{"submission_id":"1430287","keywords":[{"keyword_id":"47457","keyword_name":"barbed penis","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"987"},{"keyword_id":"37","keyword_name":"cub","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"126800"},{"keyword_id":"379","keyword_name":"domination","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"5153"},{"keyword_id":"275889","keyword_name":"flavored condom","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"2"},{"keyword_id":"33","keyword_name":"fox","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"135498"},{"keyword_id":"8976","keyword_name":"jinx","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"227"},{"keyword_id":"165","keyword_name":"male","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"640230"},{"keyword_id":"10308","keyword_name":"male/male","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"56672"},{"keyword_id":"43485","keyword_name":"oneshot","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"134"},{"keyword_id":"70755","keyword_name":"oral penetration","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"467"},{"keyword_id":"4679","keyword_name":"porcupine","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"1986"},{"keyword_id":"9102","keyword_name":"predator/prey","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"961"},{"keyword_id":"39904","keyword_name":"teacher/student","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"265"},{"keyword_id":"40221","keyword_name":"twist ending","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"6"},{"keyword_id":"2752","keyword_name":"wet dream","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"261"},{"keyword_id":"164","keyword_name":"wolf","contributed":"f","submissions_count":"111566"}],"hidden":"t","scraps":"f","favorite":"f","favorites_count":"2","create_datetime":"2017-09-02 04:40:33.68076+02","create_datetime_usertime":"02 Sep 2017 04:40 CEST","last_file_update_datetime":"2017-09-02 04:26:19.531895+02","last_file_update_datetime_usertime":"02 Sep 2017 04:26 CEST","username":"VoxVulpes","user_id":"427304","user_icon_file_name":"126422_VoxVulpes_img_6421.jpg","user_icon_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/126/126422_VoxVulpes_img_6421.jpg","user_icon_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/126/126422_VoxVulpes_img_6421.jpg","user_icon_url_small":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/126/126422_VoxVulpes_img_6421.jpg","file_name":"2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"300","thumb_huge_y":"300","thumb_large_x":"200","thumb_large_y":"200","thumb_medium_x":"120","thumb_medium_y":"120","files":[{"file_id":"2017811","file_name":"2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.doc","mimetype":"application/msword","submission_id":"1430287","user_id":"427304","submission_file_order":"0","full_size_x":null,"full_size_y":null,"screen_size_x":null,"screen_size_y":null,"preview_size_x":null,"preview_size_y":null,"initial_file_md5":"72bc64eded956f3ef456074520914503","full_file_md5":"72bc64eded956f3ef456074520914503","large_file_md5":"","small_file_md5":"","thumbnail_md5":"ce65c63bb09c647cac1d7a551d35151f","deleted":"f","create_datetime":"2017-09-02 04:26:19.531895+02","create_datetime_usertime":"02 Sep 2017 04:26 CEST","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/2017/2017811_VoxVulpes_jinx_one-shot.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"300","thumb_huge_y":"300","thumb_large_x":"200","thumb_large_y":"200","thumb_medium_x":"120","thumb_medium_y":"120"}],"pools":[{"pool_id":"46956","name":"One-Shots","description":"Miscellaneous stories that don't fit into the other series I have written.","count":"1"}],"description":"I do feel a bit embarrassed posting a story like this because of all the high quality stuff I've seen about this subject. But hear me out - I'm offering my take on it. \nI'm taking a brief break from my usual edgy gangster snuff to try some new things with one shots - of which this is the first. It's a subject that's a tad \"mainstream\" by IB standards, but with some twists of my own: a student-teacher relationship. \n\nBrilliant young fox kit Jet (the younger brother of my personal fursona, Lars Lewis, with his incarnation in my main series being their great-uncle) is down on his luck, and falls asleep in his history class taught by a porcupine named Mr. Prick. He is sent to his teacher's office, and his teacher \"jinxes\" him at one point - only this time, it's not for a Coke. (Porcupines? In MY cub erotica? It's more likely than you think)\nWill he finally have some good luck for once? The ending just might shock you. \nAnyway, enjoy! And as always, please give me your constructive criticism.","description_bbcode_parsed":"I do feel a bit embarrassed posting a story like this because of all the high quality stuff I've seen about this subject. But hear me out - I'm offering my take on it.
I'm taking a brief break from my usual edgy gangster snuff to try some new things with one shots - of which this is the first. It's a subject that's a tad "mainstream" by IB standards, but with some twists of my own: a student-teacher relationship.
Brilliant young fox kit Jet (the younger brother of my personal fursona, Lars Lewis, with his incarnation in my main series being their great-uncle) is down on his luck, and falls asleep in his history class taught by a porcupine named Mr. Prick. He is sent to his teacher's office, and his teacher "jinxes" him at one point - only this time, it's not for a Coke. (Porcupines? In MY cub erotica? It's more likely than you think)
Will he finally have some good luck for once? The ending just might shock you.
Anyway, enjoy! And as always, please give me your constructive criticism.","writing":"JINX\n[i]\nThis is a work of fiction. The story, all names, characters, and incidents are either invented or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real British foxes or boarding colleges is purely coincidental. \n\nAddendum: And in case you fellas didn't see the title or description, this story depicts a teacher-student relationship. The author does not condone the actions depicted in this story, and the situation is meant as fiction. Reader discretion is therefore strongly advised. [/i]\n\n\"Loose lips might sink ships.\"\n\nSo said the bulldog, in black and white, in that boring film Mr. Prick had made us all watch in World History. They obviously were not paying attention during this war, or they would have fought harder. At least, that's what my impressionable teen furself thought was the case, and my tired eyes wandered too much to care. And I'm still thinking I got low marks on my maths exam. And the tranquilizer I took earlier that morning didn't help. Sure, it works well with the \"as needed\" situations my GP said it was for - today, I took some before writing that incredibly stressful maths exam - but it occasionally seems to knock me out in some sort of trance.\n\nDing, dang, dung, dong...\n\nMy bleary eyes open to the sounds of the bell ringing out for class.\n\nHarry, my lupine best friend and roommate at Woodland College for Boys, jostled me up. I had passed out over my desk, tongue out and everything. I started to feel something damp as I awoke. As it turns out, I got my right paw in my mouth and there was spittle all over. The only thing that helps me not grind my teeth is to suck my paw, hence why I still have that nasty habit whilst I sleep. \n\nI don't suppose that was a good look. \n\n\"Jet, wake up! Mr. Prick can see you slept in his class!\"\n\nAnd the porcupine teacher I secretly adore is pointing at me.\n\nShit.\n\nOh, yeah, allow me to introduce myself. Jet Lewis. My great-grandfather and his three sons, including Grandpa Max, were all gangsters back in the States, and my brother is named after our great-uncle Lars. My Nan was a KGB double agent who lived underground in East Berlin and sent information back to MI6. You can say I come from a long line of doers. \n\nAt least, in theory.\n\nI'm just some random fox born to an American father and a British mother, and I moved to the UK at three because of something that happened back in the States, I still don't remember what. But I'm fine. My Year 9s are almost over and I'm staying at Woodland for Year 10, so that's all I'm worried about right now. \n\nAfter I gathered my things in my leather knapsack with the Woodland insignia sewn across it, the porcupine pointed a claw to his office again. \n\nMy heart raced.\n\nI'm one of the top students in his class, and he caught me sleeping in it. I wonder if he knows why I slept. Harry certainly didn't help either.\n\n\"Ha! Unlucky fox,\" Harry yelled to me as he walked out of the classroom. The wolf cub gave me a heart sign with his front paws. \"See ya back at Lex, Jet! Ya nonce!\"\n\nI waved back and returned his greeting with a 2-finger salute, walking into the teacher's office adjacent to our lecture hall.\n\n\"Up yours, Harry!\" I yelled back.\n\nLittle did either of them know. \n\nWhile I get very bored in Mr. Prick's history class, I excel at it, and I do like him as a teacher. How many porcupine history lecturers do you know? Not many, I'd imagine. I've even gotten help from Mr. Prick on my assignments many times. He called my paper on the Stuarts better than anything he had ever read. And he's hilarious - he speaks in Cockney quite a bit and makes terrible jokes that are nonetheless endearing.\n\nI admire that porcupine. \n\nOne could say I might even have feelings for him. \n\nBeing a grey fox as I am, I have some moments of foresight. I'm just a kit, but I can still tell if someone loves me. My brother Lars loves me, Harry loves me, our African transfer student Ferox loved me before he went...and, to be frank, I've never felt that way around a girl. But I digress. \n\nMr. Prick certainly does have feelings for me in spite of him being twice my age. It's not just me reaching the top of his class - his prick shows it, no pun intended. I can't stop staring at the bulge he's bloody awful at hiding throughout class when I write my exams, no matter how much Adam, Harry, Rupert, or the other cubs and kits at Woodland jostle me about. And I must say, Mr. Prick looks incredibly fit in those khaki pants and that tight hunter green button down shirt with his constantly changing clip-on tie. I really like his Dougal one he wears some Fridays - [i]The Magic Roundabout[/i] is one thing we've always talked about in his office during our parent teacher conferences and such, whenever my mum comes up before the Christmas break. I wonder if he wears it because of me.\n\nBut this time, just before the summer holiday, things were different. I know I'm going to be punished for sleeping in class, I just know it.\n\nMr. Prick shut the door, adjusted his little wooden footstool, and sat at his desk, full of history books and a giant poster. The most famous bulldog in Britain stared back at us in vibrant red and white next to Big Ben in blue, with a cigar between his teeth, and the phrase \"Never, never, never give up\" emblazoned in black Gill Sans. Already, I felt inspired by the quote on Mr. Prick's wall. \n\n\"Jet, my boy,\" Mr. Prick said to me in his swivel chair, crossing his little paws and drumming them atop his wooden desk, \"you are a brilliant student, probably one of the greatest we have ever had here at Woodland. I, quite frankly, am always glad at how well you do on your maths and English, or so the faculty say, and you are excellent in my class as well. I know you are going to be amazing at your A-levels when you get there.\"\n\nI blushed as I sat back in the lounge chair across from his desk. \"Thank you, sir.\"\n\n\"But must I ask - why were you knocked out and sucking your paw like a kit in World History this afternoon? You didn't show up to my class pissed, did you?\"\n\nSurprised at his bluntness, coupled with his neck quills shooting straight up as the porcupines I know always do when they're cross, I shrug and answer truthfully, crossing my legs as I rise up from the comfort of his chaise lounge.\n\n\"Kind of. It's because of my medication, sir. I take one as needed for my extreme anxiety before really stressful situations like my maths test today. Ask the nurse about it, ask my psych about it, ask my GP, ask the NHS, just ask someone, sir. I am sorry for my inconsiderate behaviour.\"\n\nBelieving me, he adjusted his small spectacles and pulled up my file on his computer - after my consent, of course.\n\n\"Uh-huh...fox with generalized anxiety...3 medications...1 taken only as needed...\"\n\nI blushed a little more when he talked with his trademark bluntness about my medical condition and mentioning my medications like that, which only Harry and I know about - my parents haven't even been notified of my constant fears. And while I know he was breaking some kind of law with getting that information, I didn't mind it. He's my teacher, after all, and one who was just looking out for me.\n\n\"Jet, I apologise for my misunderstanding,\" Mr. Prick said. \"You can leave now if you want.\" \n\nI was about to pick up my bag, when he noticed the bulge in my black trousers below my hunter green jacket, which I was terrible at hiding - I chuckle a bit, hoping that I'm not coming close to defiling my uniform with my own prick. It seems awfully close to leaking.\n\nHe took a look on at my own terrible erection and said: \"Or, I can...help...relieve your anxiety.\"\n\n\"Relieve MY anxiety?\" I asked at exactly the same time.\n\n\"Jinx!\" He clapped. \"Tough luck, innit, you owe me a wank!\" Mr. Prick laughed joyfully, changing pace from his rather droll history instructor side.\n\nThe black fur on my cheeks turned beet red at the statement my own teacher made to me, seemingly without rhyme or reason. I thought \"Jinx,\" that catch all term for shite luck watered down, involved Cokes or other fizzy drinks, not...well, THAT.\n\n\"Y-you mean a Coke, surely?\" I think to myself.\n\nGranted, I really couldn't stop looking at the attractive porcupine just as he can't stop looking at me - he was quite burly and chiseled for his size, and his tweed shorts always complemented that nice, big bubble butt of his. When I played Fuck-Marry-Kill, the most fun of childhood sports, with my Lexington boarding house roommates, he was the only teacher that those of us who like guys wanted to \"Fuck.\" And I haven't gotten any with someone older before. \n\nI would be pleased with this. Bad luck turning out good.\n\n\"A wank...like this?\" Showing my curiosity as to what he meant, I briefly gesture with my teacher, imagining my paw around Mr. Prick's...well, prick, and making a motion or two.\n\nThe porcupine nodded. \n\nHe got up from his stool and took a quick peek around the hallway, making sure no other furs were there.\n\n\"But don't you DARE bloody tell anyone,\" he remarked, paw for emphasis, as he shut the door to his office and lowered the blinds. \"Consider it a reward for a job well done, and a punishment for sleeping in my class at the same time.\" He was extremely forward with his advances. I found it kind of enticing.\n\n\"Is there anything else you want, Mr. Prick?\" I asked.\n\n\"You don't have to call me by that name anymore, Mr. Lewis,\" he responded as he sat back down. \"Call me Patrick.\"\n\n\"Patrick Prick...\" I stutter at the alliteration in his name, and how he called me by my last, also thinking again of how jealous my friends at Woodland are going to be at this encounter. I started responding in kind, my ice blue eyes staring at the little black ones that belonged to a really, really fit teacher whom I had heard isn't really into romance. \"I do owe you a wank, Patrick Prick.\"\n\nThe porcupine smiled and blushed some more.\n\n\"Can you keep another secret, Jet?\" he sheepishly asked, covering his snout with his paw a bit as the quills on his head started to arise some more - in pleasure, I think.\n\n\"Absolutely,\" I remarked, still seated, but saluting like a scout as I have done for the troop at Woodland. \"Scout's honor, Pat.\"\n\n\"I love it when a cub dominates me and leads the way. Could you do that for me?\" he whispered.\n\nSo THAT'S why he called me by my surname instead of the other way around!\n\nWow.\n\nThis is kind of daft. For a fur who is SUPPOSED to be dominant in his profession, it seems odd to me that he prefers a student would dominate him. Then again, I am the bigger fur in this situation despite being half his age - in spite of our age difference, I had a slight edge in height but not by much (just a few centimeters, I think), which made it easy for both of us to feel such intense pleasure.\n\nI can work with this.\n\n[i]I'll use my racing horny thoughts, typical of a growing boy, as starting points with this[/i], I thought. I got right to the chase.\n\n\"Yes.\" My head nodded as the magic word for agreement came out of my mouth. My ice blue eyes stared him down. I brought my paw up to his face and unsheathed my claws. \n\n\"I'm horny, you're thorny.\"\n\nCalm down, Jet. Bad joke.\n\nThen, not making any more comments, I stood behind my teacher and caressed my paw down the hardened quills on his back. The quills are spikes, of course, but I knew they would probably not hurt me at the end of it all. He started to murr softly as he felt my paw across his quills.\n\nI got back around and forced my tongue in his snout. \n\nRelishing each bit of passion, he returned the favor, pushing his own little tongue in my muzzle and licking all around the inside of my mouth. I felt the breeze from the ceiling fan above, but not even that could cool us down.\n\nAs I started to grind against the porcupine in our first of what seemed like many moments of pleasure, I could feel two distinct hard masses nudging in from the soft spots covered by our respective pieces of clothing. \n\n\"I feel your Hampton, Jet,\" my teacher said breathily. \"It's n-nice.\"\n\nMy paws massaged deeper into his quills, but not enough to hurt either of us, as we both moaned quietly enough for the other lecturers to not notice. To spice things up a bit, I whispered some filth into his ear as he had did before.\n\n\"Mr. Prick, you're my favorite teacher here...but you're also my favorite prey...do you like it when I do this?\"\n\nI lightly bit his neck on the front side - not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark on the right side.\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"Forgot to mention I-I-I'm really into Predator/prey d-d-domination,\" he stuttered.\n\nI continued my work, lifting my tongue from his neck to some of the quills near his head, enjoying the spiny sensation of my teacher's whole body.\n\nIn the heat of the moment, I cast my jacket aside - I left my tie and neckerchief in my bag - and started to strip off my white button down. Mr. Prick did the same to his own shirt and tie, both of which he also cast aside.\n\n\"That's right, I owe you a wank - but I know what you have in mind,\" I said, pointing to the tie.\n\nHe nodded, while jokingly adding, \"Tying up your teacher?\"\n\nWe both chuckle. \"It's alright, isn't it?\" I said.\n\nHe nods, and we get back into the spirit with just our white undershirts and pants.\n\nAfter a hard round of grinding and kissing, I hopped off from Mr. Prick to take my undershirt off and undo my trousers. It was easy for him to cast his eyes to a pair of solid red boxer briefs with a huge bulge. \n\n\"That IS a nice Hampton, Jet - especially for a young cub like you, but now, don't be a berk,\" he said.\n\nI remember Mr. Prick speaks cockney pretty regularly, but I had no idea he did so outside of class.\n\n\"Well, you're getting plenty of posh tonight,\" I responded in kind. \"First things first, though...\"\n\nI tried to say the most dominant command I could think of.\n\n\"Come to me, you fucking cunt.\"\n\nOh, dearest god.\n\nHow I managed to say that to my teacher, I do not know, but we were both blushing pretty hard at my newfound dominance.\n\nI kept whispering to him, \"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry\" and so on for about a straight minute as he got undressed, but I got the most brilliant response from it all.\n\n\"It's okay, Jet,\" he said. \"I like it when you use that word.\"\n\nHe moved the swivel chair away from his desk to reveal a rather large Hampton in his own right, barely hidden by a pair of tight briefs that fit his nether region like a glove. And what's more, I could already tell from seeing the bulge in a slightly clearer view that something was different about Mr. Prick's Hampton: the quills on his head, neck and upper back were certainly not the spiniest parts of his body. There were about 100 little barbs I could see on his prick from just a meter away, nearly busting through the confines of the fabric. He sat, stretching out his hot and spiky self, a small chubby belly pushing the elastic waistband of his briefs in a truly enticing way. I wafted the little bits of sweet musk emanating from that underwear towards my snout. Yet, he started blushing again.\n\n\"I know you owe me a wank, my star student,\" he remarked, \"but are you sure you want to go about this?\"\n\nI rolled with it.\n\n\"I've seen much worse than spikes soon to be covered in spunk,\" I said. \"You're still my prey. Just relax before I give it all I've got.\"\n\nLike my grandparents, I'm always prepared for an emergency situation, so I fumbled in my bag and found my secret compartment with lubricant.\n\nFerox had spikes on his dick as well - he's a fossa - so this wasn't my first time feeling barbs on my paws...or muzzle.\n\n\"You are my prey, Patrick Prick,\" I said again, \"and you're going to be doing something wild with me this afternoon.\"\n\nThe porcupine was entranced by my dominance. I undid his cyan briefs, which developed a deep indigo on the corners from his musk and sweat, and stared at the member raw - without the modest covering of his tight underwear.\n\nIt looked absolutely amazing just being so close to it. \n\nMr. Prick's prick was almost like a castle tower covered in little spines, with two adorable (but quite pleasurable) midsized nuts below - a tower I will not hesitate to get to the top of no matter the odds.\n\nMy history teacher sat in the swivel armchair in the nude, with his paws on his little love handles, eagerly awaiting his student's next move. \n\nThe fun was about to begin. \n\nI picked up Mr. Prick's rather large clip-on tie, a solid red one as opposed to the [i]Magic Roundabout[/i] one he usually wears, and tied it around his head in a makeshift blindfold - painstakingly making sure the fabric didn't go through the quills near his dome.\n\n\"See me, Patrick Prick?\" I whispered in his ear after finishing a loose knot.\n\nHe shook his head and smiled.\n\n\"I never thought I would be blindfolded like this by my st-star student,\" he whispered.\n\nI smiled and gave him a 2-finger salute as I grabbed the bottle of lube.\n\nI started to go to work. \n\nThe porcupine's member extended further from his sheath in an inviting come-hither formation, a call that not even the barbs that were in place millions of years ago to protect him from me could keep me from. Thanks, evolution, I muttered to myself.\n\nI squeeze some lube from its bottle directly onto Mr. Prick's prick. He trills a little bit and whispers \"By gosh, that tickles,\" for now still oblivious to my name and face. I wondered how cold the lube felt on that thing.\n\nI could feel every inch of Mr. Prick's prick as I stroked down. His barbs were not all that bad to the touch - they stuck out just enough for me to feel their enticing spiky nature, but not to the point where they would get me unawares. Stroking my paw across it was quite the pleasant sensation. I continued downward, hearing him murr softly as I pawed his less thorny and more furry scrotum with my other hand, using my limb as my guide, exploring every inch of the little orbs dangling from his prickly prick.\n\nTo make things a bit more fun, I gripped his prick with one paw and felt my hand over to his backside with the other. I instantly started to get hard when feeling up my teacher's incredibly bouncy but firm ass. I gave it a hand with one paw as I stroked his member with the other, feeling just a bit more pleasure with every jiggle and shake of Mr. Prick's juicy rear.\n\nOh! I just remembered I had extra strength condoms in case I fancied giving my teacher a blowjob too. \n\nI think the time has come for that, I muttered to myself as I heard Mr. Prick moan in a sense of real ecstasy, aided by a damp sensation coating my left paw, not to mention a quick slap on that fat butt.\n\nI held my paw to the light and could see it covered in pre - the light above us gave my pawpads a rainbow glow. \n\nNot forgetting about my history teacher close to climax, I flatly said to him before opening my bag:\n\n\"I'm sorry, Patrick Prick, but your body is going to have to do better than that...\"\n\nI stretched the flavored condom around his prick, whispering, \"It's okay if I do this, right? Since I'm a young fox who doesn't want his mouth to bleed from the spikes or anything. My paw is fine, but my mouth is sensitive.\"\n\nMy teacher, still blindfolded, nods. \"I understand. But Mr. Lewis, just be gentle.\"\n\nI looked up at my teacher more closely and could already tell he made the right choice spending his hours with me. For an intimidating and eccentric educator several years out of university, he looked surprisingly innocent and charming. Muscular with a bit of chub around his belly, most of it in his giant ass, covered in quills, his eyes still covered by the tie blindfold, now dripping with a little bit of sweat from his brow. \n\n\"And be gentle, but don't tell anyone.\"\n\n\"I will try,\" I whisper softly to his face as I open the condom and wrap it around the area.\n\nThe spikes only stick out so much, nearly trapped by the latex - but I'm used to this. The prick's girth was about average, and fit into my muzzle no problem. But as I gripped my mouth around the dick and started sucking, I already knew Mr. Prick was coming close.\n\nThe citrus flavoring soaked in the condom mixed delightfully with the saccharine vanilla of the lube, turning my teacher's prick into a delectably spiky lollipop. Hearing him murr over my slurps and licks made me get even harder.\n\nAt last, I could feel the porcupine grip onto my shoulders, his well rounded tummy edging closer to my face as I used my free paw to hold onto a wobbling piece of his bubble butt. The spines of his prick felt like they would burst from the condom into my mouth, but it felt no less so than my toothbrush - it felt hot.\n\nAnd then...release.\n\nThe noise coming from my teacher's mouth seemed unbearably loud. I looked up, my ice blue eyes meeting the blindfolded porcupine in front of me, and lifted my mouth away from his prick. \n\n\"Patrick, do you want the other teachers to hear you?\" I asked, looking at the condom nearly full to bursting with his spooge, also kind of admiring how it stayed on in spite of the spikes on his prick.\n\nHe shook his head, softly saying, \"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"You can take the blindfold off now, if you'd like.\"\n\nMy teacher did just that, and looked endearingly at me with his black eyes.\n\n\"Loose lips might sink ships, Jet,\" he said with a smirk. \"Is there anything else you wanted me to do, Mr. Lewis?\"\n\n\"Suck my cock.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Mr. Prick, really. I don't mean it as an insult. Just please, put my dick in your mouth.\"\n\nI also said, \"You don't need a condom.\"\n\nBlushing at my continued dominance, he moved to the stool below my chair and started to place his small paw around most of my sheath. My own cock was already hard, and looking below at the pink rod coming from my black fur, I realized my anxiety was melting away. \n\nI loved this domination thing.\n\nI loved being in control even though I lost it.\n\nI loved acting controlling to a fur who not only was my opposite and superior, but who wanted it as well.\n\nHis little snout fit the head of my prick like a glove, and feeling his buck teeth and furry paws around the member was utterly amazing. \n\nThis seemed way too good to last. \n\nNo, I think it was.\n\nIt's ending faster than I could ever think.\n\nThe rest felt like a fever dream.\n\nBang.\n\nThe moan was deafening.\n\nMy eyes were going black.\n\nI fell over.\n\nI know I blew my load all over Mr. Prick - I could see him fluttering some of my spunk from his eyelashes and the quills on his head, as my eyes started to get heavy.\n\nThat was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.\n\n\"Jet? Jet?\" he called out to me...\n\n...\n\n\"...wake up, Jet, get yourself clean, you had a really good wet dream or somethin', ya little nonce...\"\n\nI could hear some rapid-fire whispering and feel my body moving around. I still felt hard and sticky as ever.\n\n\"Mr. Prick?\"\n\nTurns out, I was asleep in my bed on the bottom bunk at the boardinghouse - I was jostled up by Harry, who was sleeping right next to me. He usually sleeps top, even after we do guy stuff, and I wondered what happened.\n\nI glance at the time on my AP watch: 3:30 in the morning. Bleary-eyed, I looked back at Harry. Poor wolf seems to have gotten some of the cum that leaked all over my pyjamas on him in the shuffle.\n\n\"Bloody hell, Jet, you are covered in spunk! And you're sucking your paw like a kit again!\"\n\nHe asks. \"Anxiety?\"\n\n\"Anxiety!\" I say at the same time, the dimly lit high street across from the Lexington boarding house giving a rather inviting glow through the window panes.\n\n\"Jinx, you owe me a wank,\" I said with a smirk.\n\nThe wolf blushes. \"I love you like a brother, mate, but...You do mean a Coke, surely?\"\n\nWe snicker a bit together.\n\n\"Oh yeah, how'd your maths test go?\" he whispers out of the blue. \"Mr. Prick said you passed out in his room when you both met because you were so stressed out over it.\"\n\n\"What?\" I reply in shock.\n\n\"I rung you but you didn't answer! I was worried about you, Jet,\" he says. \"I hope Mr. Prick didn't punish you too badly.\"\n\n\"You don't mean-\"\n\n\"He was there after hours trying to wake you up. You were pretty clearly knocked out or pissed or something.\"\n\nI shake my head. This can't be true.\n\nI fumble on the bedside table a little bit and find a slip of paper that reads:\n\n\"Harry - the poor kit was so anxious about his test yesterday that he had a panic attack in my room, so I cleaned him up and wrapped him in a towel. My apologies- watch him for me -Mr. Prick\"\n\nI look back at Harry.\n\n\"You owe me!\" the wolf loudly whispers as I put the note down.\n\n\"Shite, at least you didn't break a mirror yesterday as I did,\" I whisper back. \"I was jinxed too many times, I guess.\"\n\nI smile back at my best friend.\n\nAh, I've had worse luck.\n\nI start sucking on my paw again, compelling me to forget my anxious feelings as I drift back to my strange, lustful bedlam. The encounter of a lifetime is still fresh in my head. \n\nWas it just a wet dream? \n\nOnly me and my history teacher, Patrick Prick, know for sure.\n\n[b]END[/b]","writing_bbcode_parsed":"JINX
This is a work of fiction. The story, all names, characters, and incidents are either invented or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real British foxes or boarding colleges is purely coincidental.
Addendum: And in case you fellas didn't see the title or description, this story depicts a teacher-student relationship. The author does not condone the actions depicted in this story, and the situation is meant as fiction. Reader discretion is therefore strongly advised.
"Loose lips might sink ships."
So said the bulldog, in black and white, in that boring film Mr. Prick had made us all watch in World History. They obviously were not paying attention during this war, or they would have fought harder. At least, that's what my impressionable teen furself thought was the case, and my tired eyes wandered too much to care. And I'm still thinking I got low marks on my maths exam. And the tranquilizer I took earlier that morning didn't help. Sure, it works well with the "as needed" situations my GP said it was for - today, I took some before writing that incredibly stressful maths exam - but it occasionally seems to knock me out in some sort of trance.
Ding, dang, dung, dong...
My bleary eyes open to the sounds of the bell ringing out for class.
Harry, my lupine best friend and roommate at Woodland College for Boys, jostled me up. I had passed out over my desk, tongue out and everything. I started to feel something damp as I awoke. As it turns out, I got my right paw in my mouth and there was spittle all over. The only thing that helps me not grind my teeth is to suck my paw, hence why I still have that nasty habit whilst I sleep.
I don't suppose that was a good look.
"Jet, wake up! Mr. Prick can see you slept in his class!"
And the porcupine teacher I secretly adore is pointing at me.
Shit.
Oh, yeah, allow me to introduce myself. Jet Lewis. My great-grandfather and his three sons, including Grandpa Max, were all gangsters back in the States, and my brother is named after our great-uncle Lars. My Nan was a KGB double agent who lived underground in East Berlin and sent information back to MI6. You can say I come from a long line of doers.
At least, in theory.
I'm just some random fox born to an American father and a British mother, and I moved to the UK at three because of something that happened back in the States, I still don't remember what. But I'm fine. My Year 9s are almost over and I'm staying at Woodland for Year 10, so that's all I'm worried about right now.
After I gathered my things in my leather knapsack with the Woodland insignia sewn across it, the porcupine pointed a claw to his office again.
My heart raced.
I'm one of the top students in his class, and he caught me sleeping in it. I wonder if he knows why I slept. Harry certainly didn't help either.
"Ha! Unlucky fox," Harry yelled to me as he walked out of the classroom. The wolf cub gave me a heart sign with his front paws. "See ya back at Lex, Jet! Ya nonce!"
I waved back and returned his greeting with a 2-finger salute, walking into the teacher's office adjacent to our lecture hall.
"Up yours, Harry!" I yelled back.
Little did either of them know.
While I get very bored in Mr. Prick's history class, I excel at it, and I do like him as a teacher. How many porcupine history lecturers do you know? Not many, I'd imagine. I've even gotten help from Mr. Prick on my assignments many times. He called my paper on the Stuarts better than anything he had ever read. And he's hilarious - he speaks in Cockney quite a bit and makes terrible jokes that are nonetheless endearing.
I admire that porcupine.
One could say I might even have feelings for him.
Being a grey fox as I am, I have some moments of foresight. I'm just a kit, but I can still tell if someone loves me. My brother Lars loves me, Harry loves me, our African transfer student Ferox loved me before he went...and, to be frank, I've never felt that way around a girl. But I digress.
Mr. Prick certainly does have feelings for me in spite of him being twice my age. It's not just me reaching the top of his class - his prick shows it, no pun intended. I can't stop staring at the bulge he's bloody awful at hiding throughout class when I write my exams, no matter how much Adam, Harry, Rupert, or the other cubs and kits at Woodland jostle me about. And I must say, Mr. Prick looks incredibly fit in those khaki pants and that tight hunter green button down shirt with his constantly changing clip-on tie. I really like his Dougal one he wears some Fridays - The Magic Roundabout is one thing we've always talked about in his office during our parent teacher conferences and such, whenever my mum comes up before the Christmas break. I wonder if he wears it because of me.
But this time, just before the summer holiday, things were different. I know I'm going to be punished for sleeping in class, I just know it.
Mr. Prick shut the door, adjusted his little wooden footstool, and sat at his desk, full of history books and a giant poster. The most famous bulldog in Britain stared back at us in vibrant red and white next to Big Ben in blue, with a cigar between his teeth, and the phrase "Never, never, never give up" emblazoned in black Gill Sans. Already, I felt inspired by the quote on Mr. Prick's wall.
"Jet, my boy," Mr. Prick said to me in his swivel chair, crossing his little paws and drumming them atop his wooden desk, "you are a brilliant student, probably one of the greatest we have ever had here at Woodland. I, quite frankly, am always glad at how well you do on your maths and English, or so the faculty say, and you are excellent in my class as well. I know you are going to be amazing at your A-levels when you get there."
I blushed as I sat back in the lounge chair across from his desk. "Thank you, sir."
"But must I ask - why were you knocked out and sucking your paw like a kit in World History this afternoon? You didn't show up to my class pissed, did you?"
Surprised at his bluntness, coupled with his neck quills shooting straight up as the porcupines I know always do when they're cross, I shrug and answer truthfully, crossing my legs as I rise up from the comfort of his chaise lounge.
"Kind of. It's because of my medication, sir. I take one as needed for my extreme anxiety before really stressful situations like my maths test today. Ask the nurse about it, ask my psych about it, ask my GP, ask the NHS, just ask someone, sir. I am sorry for my inconsiderate behaviour."
Believing me, he adjusted his small spectacles and pulled up my file on his computer - after my consent, of course.
"Uh-huh...fox with generalized anxiety...3 medications...1 taken only as needed..."
I blushed a little more when he talked with his trademark bluntness about my medical condition and mentioning my medications like that, which only Harry and I know about - my parents haven't even been notified of my constant fears. And while I know he was breaking some kind of law with getting that information, I didn't mind it. He's my teacher, after all, and one who was just looking out for me.
"Jet, I apologise for my misunderstanding," Mr. Prick said. "You can leave now if you want."
I was about to pick up my bag, when he noticed the bulge in my black trousers below my hunter green jacket, which I was terrible at hiding - I chuckle a bit, hoping that I'm not coming close to defiling my uniform with my own prick. It seems awfully close to leaking.
He took a look on at my own terrible erection and said: "Or, I can...help...relieve your anxiety."
"Relieve MY anxiety?" I asked at exactly the same time.
"Jinx!" He clapped. "Tough luck, innit, you owe me a wank!" Mr. Prick laughed joyfully, changing pace from his rather droll history instructor side.
The black fur on my cheeks turned beet red at the statement my own teacher made to me, seemingly without rhyme or reason. I thought "Jinx," that catch all term for shite luck watered down, involved Cokes or other fizzy drinks, not...well, THAT.
"Y-you mean a Coke, surely?" I think to myself.
Granted, I really couldn't stop looking at the attractive porcupine just as he can't stop looking at me - he was quite burly and chiseled for his size, and his tweed shorts always complemented that nice, big bubble butt of his. When I played Fuck-Marry-Kill, the most fun of childhood sports, with my Lexington boarding house roommates, he was the only teacher that those of us who like guys wanted to "Fuck." And I haven't gotten any with someone older before.
I would be pleased with this. Bad luck turning out good.
"A wank...like this?" Showing my curiosity as to what he meant, I briefly gesture with my teacher, imagining my paw around Mr. Prick's...well, prick, and making a motion or two.
The porcupine nodded.
He got up from his stool and took a quick peek around the hallway, making sure no other furs were there.
"But don't you DARE bloody tell anyone," he remarked, paw for emphasis, as he shut the door to his office and lowered the blinds. "Consider it a reward for a job well done, and a punishment for sleeping in my class at the same time." He was extremely forward with his advances. I found it kind of enticing.
"Is there anything else you want, Mr. Prick?" I asked.
"You don't have to call me by that name anymore, Mr. Lewis," he responded as he sat back down. "Call me Patrick."
"Patrick Prick..." I stutter at the alliteration in his name, and how he called me by my last, also thinking again of how jealous my friends at Woodland are going to be at this encounter. I started responding in kind, my ice blue eyes staring at the little black ones that belonged to a really, really fit teacher whom I had heard isn't really into romance. "I do owe you a wank, Patrick Prick."
The porcupine smiled and blushed some more.
"Can you keep another secret, Jet?" he sheepishly asked, covering his snout with his paw a bit as the quills on his head started to arise some more - in pleasure, I think.
"Absolutely," I remarked, still seated, but saluting like a scout as I have done for the troop at Woodland. "Scout's honor, Pat."
"I love it when a cub dominates me and leads the way. Could you do that for me?" he whispered.
So THAT'S why he called me by my surname instead of the other way around!
Wow.
This is kind of daft. For a fur who is SUPPOSED to be dominant in his profession, it seems odd to me that he prefers a student would dominate him. Then again, I am the bigger fur in this situation despite being half his age - in spite of our age difference, I had a slight edge in height but not by much (just a few centimeters, I think), which made it easy for both of us to feel such intense pleasure.
I can work with this.
I'll use my racing horny thoughts, typical of a growing boy, as starting points with this, I thought. I got right to the chase.
"Yes." My head nodded as the magic word for agreement came out of my mouth. My ice blue eyes stared him down. I brought my paw up to his face and unsheathed my claws.
"I'm horny, you're thorny."
Calm down, Jet. Bad joke.
Then, not making any more comments, I stood behind my teacher and caressed my paw down the hardened quills on his back. The quills are spikes, of course, but I knew they would probably not hurt me at the end of it all. He started to murr softly as he felt my paw across his quills.
I got back around and forced my tongue in his snout.
Relishing each bit of passion, he returned the favor, pushing his own little tongue in my muzzle and licking all around the inside of my mouth. I felt the breeze from the ceiling fan above, but not even that could cool us down.
As I started to grind against the porcupine in our first of what seemed like many moments of pleasure, I could feel two distinct hard masses nudging in from the soft spots covered by our respective pieces of clothing.
"I feel your Hampton, Jet," my teacher said breathily. "It's n-nice."
My paws massaged deeper into his quills, but not enough to hurt either of us, as we both moaned quietly enough for the other lecturers to not notice. To spice things up a bit, I whispered some filth into his ear as he had did before.
"Mr. Prick, you're my favorite teacher here...but you're also my favorite prey...do you like it when I do this?"
I lightly bit his neck on the front side - not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark on the right side.
He nodded.
"Forgot to mention I-I-I'm really into Predator/prey d-d-domination," he stuttered.
I continued my work, lifting my tongue from his neck to some of the quills near his head, enjoying the spiny sensation of my teacher's whole body.
In the heat of the moment, I cast my jacket aside - I left my tie and neckerchief in my bag - and started to strip off my white button down. Mr. Prick did the same to his own shirt and tie, both of which he also cast aside.
"That's right, I owe you a wank - but I know what you have in mind," I said, pointing to the tie.
He nodded, while jokingly adding, "Tying up your teacher?"
We both chuckle. "It's alright, isn't it?" I said.
He nods, and we get back into the spirit with just our white undershirts and pants.
After a hard round of grinding and kissing, I hopped off from Mr. Prick to take my undershirt off and undo my trousers. It was easy for him to cast his eyes to a pair of solid red boxer briefs with a huge bulge.
"That IS a nice Hampton, Jet - especially for a young cub like you, but now, don't be a berk," he said.
I remember Mr. Prick speaks cockney pretty regularly, but I had no idea he did so outside of class.
"Well, you're getting plenty of posh tonight," I responded in kind. "First things first, though..."
I tried to say the most dominant command I could think of.
"Come to me, you fucking cunt."
Oh, dearest god.
How I managed to say that to my teacher, I do not know, but we were both blushing pretty hard at my newfound dominance.
I kept whispering to him, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" and so on for about a straight minute as he got undressed, but I got the most brilliant response from it all.
"It's okay, Jet," he said. "I like it when you use that word."
He moved the swivel chair away from his desk to reveal a rather large Hampton in his own right, barely hidden by a pair of tight briefs that fit his nether region like a glove. And what's more, I could already tell from seeing the bulge in a slightly clearer view that something was different about Mr. Prick's Hampton: the quills on his head, neck and upper back were certainly not the spiniest parts of his body. There were about 100 little barbs I could see on his prick from just a meter away, nearly busting through the confines of the fabric. He sat, stretching out his hot and spiky self, a small chubby belly pushing the elastic waistband of his briefs in a truly enticing way. I wafted the little bits of sweet musk emanating from that underwear towards my snout. Yet, he started blushing again.
"I know you owe me a wank, my star student," he remarked, "but are you sure you want to go about this?"
I rolled with it.
"I've seen much worse than spikes soon to be covered in spunk," I said. "You're still my prey. Just relax before I give it all I've got."
Like my grandparents, I'm always prepared for an emergency situation, so I fumbled in my bag and found my secret compartment with lubricant.
Ferox had spikes on his dick as well - he's a fossa - so this wasn't my first time feeling barbs on my paws...or muzzle.
"You are my prey, Patrick Prick," I said again, "and you're going to be doing something wild with me this afternoon."
The porcupine was entranced by my dominance. I undid his cyan briefs, which developed a deep indigo on the corners from his musk and sweat, and stared at the member raw - without the modest covering of his tight underwear.
It looked absolutely amazing just being so close to it.
Mr. Prick's prick was almost like a castle tower covered in little spines, with two adorable (but quite pleasurable) midsized nuts below - a tower I will not hesitate to get to the top of no matter the odds.
My history teacher sat in the swivel armchair in the nude, with his paws on his little love handles, eagerly awaiting his student's next move.
The fun was about to begin.
I picked up Mr. Prick's rather large clip-on tie, a solid red one as opposed to the Magic Roundabout one he usually wears, and tied it around his head in a makeshift blindfold - painstakingly making sure the fabric didn't go through the quills near his dome.
"See me, Patrick Prick?" I whispered in his ear after finishing a loose knot.
He shook his head and smiled.
"I never thought I would be blindfolded like this by my st-star student," he whispered.
I smiled and gave him a 2-finger salute as I grabbed the bottle of lube.
I started to go to work.
The porcupine's member extended further from his sheath in an inviting come-hither formation, a call that not even the barbs that were in place millions of years ago to protect him from me could keep me from. Thanks, evolution, I muttered to myself.
I squeeze some lube from its bottle directly onto Mr. Prick's prick. He trills a little bit and whispers "By gosh, that tickles," for now still oblivious to my name and face. I wondered how cold the lube felt on that thing.
I could feel every inch of Mr. Prick's prick as I stroked down. His barbs were not all that bad to the touch - they stuck out just enough for me to feel their enticing spiky nature, but not to the point where they would get me unawares. Stroking my paw across it was quite the pleasant sensation. I continued downward, hearing him murr softly as I pawed his less thorny and more furry scrotum with my other hand, using my limb as my guide, exploring every inch of the little orbs dangling from his prickly prick.
To make things a bit more fun, I gripped his prick with one paw and felt my hand over to his backside with the other. I instantly started to get hard when feeling up my teacher's incredibly bouncy but firm ass. I gave it a hand with one paw as I stroked his member with the other, feeling just a bit more pleasure with every jiggle and shake of Mr. Prick's juicy rear.
Oh! I just remembered I had extra strength condoms in case I fancied giving my teacher a blowjob too.
I think the time has come for that, I muttered to myself as I heard Mr. Prick moan in a sense of real ecstasy, aided by a damp sensation coating my left paw, not to mention a quick slap on that fat butt.
I held my paw to the light and could see it covered in pre - the light above us gave my pawpads a rainbow glow.
Not forgetting about my history teacher close to climax, I flatly said to him before opening my bag:
"I'm sorry, Patrick Prick, but your body is going to have to do better than that..."
I stretched the flavored condom around his prick, whispering, "It's okay if I do this, right? Since I'm a young fox who doesn't want his mouth to bleed from the spikes or anything. My paw is fine, but my mouth is sensitive."
My teacher, still blindfolded, nods. "I understand. But Mr. Lewis, just be gentle."
I looked up at my teacher more closely and could already tell he made the right choice spending his hours with me. For an intimidating and eccentric educator several years out of university, he looked surprisingly innocent and charming. Muscular with a bit of chub around his belly, most of it in his giant ass, covered in quills, his eyes still covered by the tie blindfold, now dripping with a little bit of sweat from his brow.
"And be gentle, but don't tell anyone."
"I will try," I whisper softly to his face as I open the condom and wrap it around the area.
The spikes only stick out so much, nearly trapped by the latex - but I'm used to this. The prick's girth was about average, and fit into my muzzle no problem. But as I gripped my mouth around the dick and started sucking, I already knew Mr. Prick was coming close.
The citrus flavoring soaked in the condom mixed delightfully with the saccharine vanilla of the lube, turning my teacher's prick into a delectably spiky lollipop. Hearing him murr over my slurps and licks made me get even harder.
At last, I could feel the porcupine grip onto my shoulders, his well rounded tummy edging closer to my face as I used my free paw to hold onto a wobbling piece of his bubble butt. The spines of his prick felt like they would burst from the condom into my mouth, but it felt no less so than my toothbrush - it felt hot.
And then...release.
The noise coming from my teacher's mouth seemed unbearably loud. I looked up, my ice blue eyes meeting the blindfolded porcupine in front of me, and lifted my mouth away from his prick.
"Patrick, do you want the other teachers to hear you?" I asked, looking at the condom nearly full to bursting with his spooge, also kind of admiring how it stayed on in spite of the spikes on his prick.
He shook his head, softly saying, "I'm sorry."
"You can take the blindfold off now, if you'd like."
My teacher did just that, and looked endearingly at me with his black eyes.
"Loose lips might sink ships, Jet," he said with a smirk. "Is there anything else you wanted me to do, Mr. Lewis?"
"Suck my cock."
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Prick, really. I don't mean it as an insult. Just please, put my dick in your mouth."
I also said, "You don't need a condom."
Blushing at my continued dominance, he moved to the stool below my chair and started to place his small paw around most of my sheath. My own cock was already hard, and looking below at the pink rod coming from my black fur, I realized my anxiety was melting away.
I loved this domination thing.
I loved being in control even though I lost it.
I loved acting controlling to a fur who not only was my opposite and superior, but who wanted it as well.
His little snout fit the head of my prick like a glove, and feeling his buck teeth and furry paws around the member was utterly amazing.
This seemed way too good to last.
No, I think it was.
It's ending faster than I could ever think.
The rest felt like a fever dream.
Bang.
The moan was deafening.
My eyes were going black.
I fell over.
I know I blew my load all over Mr. Prick - I could see him fluttering some of my spunk from his eyelashes and the quills on his head, as my eyes started to get heavy.
That was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.
"Jet? Jet?" he called out to me...
...
"...wake up, Jet, get yourself clean, you had a really good wet dream or somethin', ya little nonce..."
I could hear some rapid-fire whispering and feel my body moving around. I still felt hard and sticky as ever.
"Mr. Prick?"
Turns out, I was asleep in my bed on the bottom bunk at the boardinghouse - I was jostled up by Harry, who was sleeping right next to me. He usually sleeps top, even after we do guy stuff, and I wondered what happened.
I glance at the time on my AP watch: 3:30 in the morning. Bleary-eyed, I looked back at Harry. Poor wolf seems to have gotten some of the cum that leaked all over my pyjamas on him in the shuffle.
"Bloody hell, Jet, you are covered in spunk! And you're sucking your paw like a kit again!"
He asks. "Anxiety?"
"Anxiety!" I say at the same time, the dimly lit high street across from the Lexington boarding house giving a rather inviting glow through the window panes.
"Jinx, you owe me a wank," I said with a smirk.
The wolf blushes. "I love you like a brother, mate, but...You do mean a Coke, surely?"
We snicker a bit together.
"Oh yeah, how'd your maths test go?" he whispers out of the blue. "Mr. Prick said you passed out in his room when you both met because you were so stressed out over it."
"What?" I reply in shock.
"I rung you but you didn't answer! I was worried about you, Jet," he says. "I hope Mr. Prick didn't punish you too badly."
"You don't mean-"
"He was there after hours trying to wake you up. You were pretty clearly knocked out or pissed or something."
I shake my head. This can't be true.
I fumble on the bedside table a little bit and find a slip of paper that reads:
"Harry - the poor kit was so anxious about his test yesterday that he had a panic attack in my room, so I cleaned him up and wrapped him in a towel. My apologies- watch him for me -Mr. Prick"
I look back at Harry.
"You owe me!" the wolf loudly whispers as I put the note down.
"Shite, at least you didn't break a mirror yesterday as I did," I whisper back. "I was jinxed too many times, I guess."
I smile back at my best friend.
Ah, I've had worse luck.
I start sucking on my paw again, compelling me to forget my anxious feelings as I drift back to my strange, lustful bedlam. The encounter of a lifetime is still fresh in my head.
Was it just a wet dream?
Only me and my history teacher, Patrick Prick, know for sure.
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