Warning: This story sexual content, past abuse, child abuse, and sexual abuse.
Cherry stared grimly at a pile of receipts, pen in black paw as scribbled numbers on a yellow legal pad. Sapphire blue eyes darted from the latest contractor bill to the rudimentary equation she slapped together. She ran her free paw against her white chin, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, black ears flicked in annoyance as she grimaced in disgust.
"How can we spend this much on renovations?" she mumbled quietly, white tip of her tail flicking in agitation.
The red fox hated few things about her job, but expense reports were definitely number one. She never needed to write down every little thing she bought when she worked the streets, then again she rarely had money to spend. The vixen's decade working as a prostitute hardened her mentally and physically, but her heart remained soft. She did her best to help the girls who struggled, with mixed results, yet Cherry always tried. So when Mr. Big gave her the option to help Tundra Town, there wasn't any hesitation on what the vulpine wanted to do.
Cherry founded Helping Paws, a shelter and reintegration center for those prostitutes who wanted to leave the life behind. The organization was closing in on one year, and it was still difficult to judge how much they had accomplished. Her co-workers, all former working girls, wanted to reach out more to the still active streetwalkers, but the vixen had her doubts. They were still working in general secrecy, prostitutes only finding out by word of mouth. If pimps found out about their organization, the fox knew there would be immediate reprisal.
"This is painful," muttered the fox, putting down her pen. She closed her eyes, and leaned back into her chair. The metal creaked noisily, rolling back a bit.
The chair was just like the desk and the other two chairs in her office, cheap. The vixen's desk looked new, with its aluminum legs and thin metal top, but the reason for this was because she bought it on discount at a thrift store. One of the legs was missing, and she replaced it sloppily with a thick wooden leg from a unsalvageable desk. The middle was showing signs of bending under the collective weight of miscellaneous papers. Her chair was rusted, and the green seating fabric torn and stained, but at least it had all the original parts. There was no computer.
Cherry cracked open her eyes, the bright fluorescent light from above illuminated the grey concrete ceiling. All the walls were concrete, like a prison with no windows, but the vixen had all the walls painted brightly. The females who stepped through the thick steel front door didn't need reminding where they could end up. The vulpine groaned, rubbing her eyes futilely. The white light always hurt the fox's sensitive sight, but just like the walls it needed to be bright. This was supposed to be a place of hope, encouragement and growth, yet too much of Cherry's time was spent trying to make the structure like a home. It didn't help the kitchen was still under construction.
"Alright," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her muzzle, "I can do this."
The only mammal who saw these expense reports was Mr. Big, and he seemed please either way. The arctic shrew was never an ally to prostitutes in the past, but something changed in the rodent. He once told Cherry that as long as the organization did good, he would be happy. The vixen wasn't sure how happy the crime boss could be over their modest gains, but he never complained. In fact the shrew wanted to put more money into Helping Paws, with the fox the only one stopping the extra influx of cash. Even though Mr. Big wrote the checks, Cherry still didn't trust his motives.
The fox's phone vibrated. It buzzed and slid across her desk, pushing into a stack of receipts. Cherry swiped it up before it fell off the edge, and stared at the caller ID. It was Jezebel. The vulpine placed the phone back down, letting it ring. It stopped, but was followed by an immediate knock at her door.
"Doll I know you're in there," shouted Jezebel from the hallway, "Your light is on, and I definitely heard your phone!"
Cherry rolled her eyes with a groan, "Alright honey, come in."
The door separating the fox's office from the rest of Helping Paws swung open, revealing a sheep. She wore a black pencil skirt with a pale green short sleeve blouse, white wool poking out of any opening. The ewe slowly fanned herself with a bright blue fabric folding fan. With a wry grin, and a dramatic closing of her fan, the sheep pointed at the vixen.
"What are you doing, doll?"
The fox's brow rose, "Work."
Jezebel gasped, whipping open her fan and covering her mouth. "In that?!"
Cherry rolled her eyes, "Honey, sweats are comfortable and warm. Just because I got an office doesn't mean I'm sacrificing that."
"You're the Cee Eee Ooh!" groaned the ewe, throwing her hooves up in the air, "If you don't look professional, who will?"
The vixen simply stared at the ewe. She sighed and focused back on her work, ignoring the sheep's comment. Cherry picked up the paper, and continued to write. When the fox first started, she didn't realize how much toilet paper could add up. Now that she was supplying a full building, and roughly a hundred mammals a week, the vulpine needed to figure out a way to cut down the expense. As Cherry performed mental gymnastics to solve this problem, the paper was suddenly ripped from her grasp.
"Hey!"
Jezebel was standing on the other side of the fox's messy desk, using the paper to gently fan her face. "What time you get here this morning?"
Cherry frowned, "I dunno...seven?"
"Liar!" exclaimed the sheep, pointing her fan at the vixen, "Saffron definitely heard you leaving this morning around four! And it also definitely doesn't take three hours to get here!" Jezebel smirked victoriously, "Face it doll, you're lying."
The fox crossed her arms, and leaned back in her chair, "So?"
"Honey," sighed the ewe, "You're too uptight, and running yourself ragged." She leaned closer to the vulpine and whispered, "When's the last time you got any?"
Cherry turned away with a sniff, "None of your business."
"I knew it!" cried out Jezebel triumphantly, "You need to get laid!"
"Let me just go rouse my suitors," the fox shot back sarcastically, raising her paws to the ceiling, "Just march the hundreds of dicks I've seen past me!" Cherry sighed and shook her head, "...just like it used to be…"
"Doll, now you're being a bitch," retorted the ewe sternly, "I ain't saying hit a corner or anything like that. I'm just saying get someone for a night or two." Jezebel smiled motherly, "You need to loosen up, or you're gonna crack. We can't afford thar."
Cherry smiled weakly, "Honey I'm fine...but if it'll get you off my case, I'll go out tonight." She picked up her cell, and waved it flippantly in front of the sheep. "I'll give Bee a call, and we'll get a drink or two."
"Maybe more," Jezebel added with a wry grin, placing her hooves on the desk and leaning closer, "Maybe you'll finally talk to her about...you know!"
Cherry scowled, ears pinning back as she glared at the ewe. "I don't know what you're talking about," replied the vixen deliberately, "and I don't like what you're suggesting."
"No need to get mad doll." Jezebel stated flippantly, turning away from the irate vulpine. "Just a suggestion, that's all." She sauntered to the door, fanning herself aggressively, before tearing open the door and storming out of the office.
The vixen's scowl lessened into a slight frown, her gaze still focused on the door. In the back of her mind, Cherry knew Jezz was right. She was stressed and tired, a night of fun didn't sound too bad. If she were to do it with her...best friend...than that was the fox's decision.
Cherry picked her phone back up, and pulled up a familiar number. The vixen's heart quickened, and her mouth grew dry, as she considered the possibilities. Should she make it sound like a date? Or was it better for things to remain platonic between the two?
"Only one way to find out," mumbled the vulpine, clicking on Beatrice's number. It began to ring.
Mint hummed happily as she made her way through the busy halls of Tundra Town Charter School. Mammals of different species, wearing either a blue jumper with white button down or red sweater with blue pants, tie, and a white button down, moved effortlessly around one another. There were no freshmams at the moment, so the upperclassmams performed the delicate dance of moving in the hallways without a hitch. It was the first day of school, so no one carried books with them. That luxury would change as the year continued
The ewe smiled and waved to friends and acquaintances alike, one hoof clutching her new planner to her chest. Mint and her older twin sister Pepper worked at Helping Paws over the summer. They received a stipend of a thousand dollars for roughly for three months of work. Still, it was cleanly earned and the twins could use however they wanted. The younger sister bought the planner, pens, notebooks and a few cute outfits. All in all she still had eight hundred hundred left. Pep spent less than fifty, only enough for supplies and even then on the cheaper side. The twins combined their money into one bank account, something neither of them had before. Mint knew her sister would never say it out loud, but they both loved the fact they had a little nest egg.
The sheep found the opened door for her final class, 19th to Contemporary Literature. The classroom was mostly packed, but a seat in the middle row was open. A wooden desk, with an old wooden rolling chair sat at the front of the room. A traditional blackboard hung on the wall, chalk lettering partially wiped off. Normally, the ewe sat with either her sister or friend Johann, but this was the only class without one of them. Pep finished up with Chemistry, her least favorite class, and Spots finished with P.E. A blush grew on Mint's cheeks at the memory of the snow leopard in tight powder blue basketball shorts with the red and white mesh sleeveless jersey. The first time she caught sight of Johann in that uniform, the ewe couldn't help but notice how well it ...shaped...the feline. They were only friends...but changing that sound better each day.
Mint slid into the open desk, plastic top and metal tubing digging into her side. She placed her planner lovingly on the top and leaned back into her seat. Fellow students around her whispered to one another, but the ewe sat excitedly with her hooves clasped together. The teacher was new, a Mr. Ciaran Whiteley, who was taking over for an elderly bison named Mrs. Enii. The ewe hadn't seen this new teacher, and he wasn't present either. The sheep frowned.
Was Mr. Whiteley lost?
The bell rang, and still no teacher. The students murmuring turned to idle chatter as questions about their missing teacher grew louder. Mint glanced about with a frown, just as confused as her peers. Finally, a middle aged ram hurried into the classroom.
"Sorry I'm late," started the older caprid, dropping a brown briefcase the desk, "Still getting learning my way around!"
Mr. Whiteley wore a dark brown tweed suit with a white button down and an bright green tie. His face was white, with grey highlighting his brown slitted eyes. The ram's thick beige horns were curled forward to his eye level. White wool stuck out around the collar and cuffs, with grey curls peppered throughout. The teacher smiled, leaning comfortably against the desk, "Hello students, my name's Mister Whiteley and I'll be your teacher this year." He pulled his briefcase closer, and popped it open. "The syllabus has the dates for all the tests and reports. They may change, but hopefully they won't need too…"
Mr. Whiteley continued to drone on, but Mint sat frozen in her seat. She clenched the sides of her desk desperately, staring wide eyed at the ram. The ewe recognized the voice, face, and was all too familiar with those hooves. There was no doubt in the student's mind on who her teacher really was. She swallowed dryly as memories of cold nights on her knees, in the back of a windowless van, rocked back and forth as the male thrust inside of her. A hot breath whispering in her ear…
"Say my name…"
Hello Readers,
Here's a little Pre-Christmas sneak peek/ first chapter of my next story. Normally I don't put a warning like I did, but this story is going to get heavy. I've never written a Mature story before, and more than likely won't after this one. That being said, I feel like the only way to tell this story correctly is this way. I understand if this story does not appeal to some readers, and hope that they come back to read the story following this one. The title will be Weasetlon v. Zootopia, and it'll be my first Nick/Judy focused story as well. I normally don't announce future titles, but because of the content of this story I uderstand if readers will skip it. Please let me know what you think.
-CG
