So, I know it's kinda wrong to make a smutty story about dolls, but I'm so addicted to these characters :D Anyhow, the following story contains some pretty terrible and not-so-romantic things. Not for the lighthearted.
And PLEASE review! It only takes a moment :)
Alone on the casketball courts after school, Clawd was busy training himself when his iCoffin sang. He jogged over to the bench, reached into his bag and pulled out his phone, glancing at the name on the screen - Draculaura. His eyebrows creased as he realized she was probably changing their plans - AGAIN. He sighed and answered, donning a cheerful tone.
"How's my sexy little fearleader?" Clawd answered, faking a smile in his voice that wasn't matched by his expression.
"Don't call me that, it's degrading." Draculaura's Transylvanian accent replied. Clawd rolled his eyes.
"What's up, babe?" He heard Draculaura sigh on the other end.
"Are you coming over tonight?" She asked. Clawd smiled, for real this time.
"Of course baby. Might bring over some movies, have a bit of a snuggle, get real cozy-" He was interrupted by a disgusted 'ugh'.
"Clawd, stop. I just wanted to see if you could give Frankie a lift over when you're done training." Her voice perked up. "She's just rented the new Jack BlackBeard movie!"
"Uh..." Clawd rolled his eyes. Not again! "We had plans, babe..."
She giggled, as if to say 'silly Clawd'. "To watch a movie... Frankie can do that too!" She failed to see the issue. Clawd growled silently.
"Okay. I'll see you later." He muttered a quick 'I love you too' before snapping his iCoffin shut and throwing it violently into his duffel bag with a loud snarl. His ears were laid back as he stalked over to the casketball and snatched it up. That dumb bitch Draculaura... For months now she'd been teasing him to the verge of insanity and then stone-cold dropping it. If she knew just how long it had been since he'd had-
BANG!
Clawd jumped a little, realizing that he'd burst the ball with his claws. He bared his teeth and threw the limp rubber skin to the ground. He stalked back over to his duffel bag, grabbing a new casketball from the pile, being careful where his claws were this time. He took a deep breath. Pausing a moment, he then opened his eyes and shot the ball. It bounced off the backboard and fell to the side.
After a few more unsuccessful attempts, Clawd was about to give up and go find Frankie when she found him. She walked up to the casketball court, her high heeled feet stepping gracefully one in front of the other, long legs that ended at the short skirt of her fearleading uniform. She had her black duffel bag (it was much smaller than Clawd's and lined with pink and silver) slung over her shoulder and the other arm high up in the air waving cheerfully to the grumpy werewolf. Clawds expression softened. He waved back. Frankie was a nice girl. Sure, she had a tendency to fall apart (literally), but at least she had her head screwed on straight (literally also). She was consistent, at least.
"Hi Clawd!" She smiled as she came within earshot. She sat herself down on the bench beside his bag. "Did Lala call you?" She began rummaging through her bag in search of something probably long lost.
Clawd tossed the ball up and caught it, his mischievous eyes watching Frankie dig out her makeup bag. "Yeah, she said you might want a lift home, right?"
Frankie nodded, her long silky black and white hair sliding over her shoulders. "When you're done." She smiled and opened a compact as she reapplied her eyeliner. Clawd caught a glimpse of the handbag her father had made her (the one with the built in portable battery) tucked away in the duffel. Watching her reapplying her makeup, an idea began to brew. He smiled wryly.
"Well, I was just gonna spend an hour or so training..." He watched Frankie's two-tone eyes fall a little at the concept of hanging back that long. "But I'd love to give you a lift home. You wanna play some casketball?" He asked, smiling coyly. Frankie's face lit back up.
"Sure!" She returned her makeup to the bag and in a single fluid motion, took an elastic off her wrist and swept her hair up into a high ponytail. She jogged over effortlessly in her high heeled fearleading trainers and smiled widely at Clawd, ready to play.
Clawd tossed the ball up and caught it again, his eyes sliding over her perfect body in that sexy fearleading uniform. V neck top, pleated mini skirt that showed off a flash of upper thigh every time she moved. Damn, she was one hot little monster. He found himself wishing that Draculaura dressed a little... less. Why be a fearleader if you're just going to wear a long sleeved shirt and tights under your uniform? Every single one of those little fearleader bitches knew how sexy they were, and they all dressed the part. Except conservative little Lala. He snorted under his breath.
"C'mon, play already!"
Clawd's attention snapped back to Frankie, who was smiling and standing with her hands on her knees, ready for a game. Clawd wished he was behind her... That skirt would barely cover her taut little ass...
"You ready for a game, girly?" Clawd laughed and tossed the ball to Frankie. She caught it, spun on one foot, and sent the bail sailing into the net with a little jump that made her tiny skirt fly up.
Clawd smiled. This was going to be a good game.
Almost three hours later, Frankie was getting really drained. Clawd's werewolf stamina was no match for her battery powered body. Nonetheless, her points vastly outnumbered his. It may or may not have been due to the flash of panty Clawd saw every time she jumped to throw the ball.
"Time out, time out!" Frankie fanned her overheating face with one hand whilst the other sat on her smoothly curved hip.
"You okay?" Clawd asked, knowing that, of course, she was. Frankie nodded.
"I'm fine, just need a cool down and some charging." She started for her bag, but Clawd bounced in front of her.
"No, no, I'll get it." He bowed as she grinned at his chivalry. He jogged over to her duffel and unzipped it. Immediately he saw her battery-bag, nestled in between the latest issue of Cosmo. A headline in bold caught his eye. "60 Sexy Tricks To Make Him Howl At The Moon" He smirked to himself, taking out the bag and zippering the duffel shut. As he turned and started back for Frankie, he broke out into a fast jog, 'tripped', dropped the bag, and 'accidentally' stood on it, smashing it with his weight.
He feigned shock whilst his insides smiled smugly. Perfect execution.
"Oh no!" Frankie's wide eyes stared at the broken battery, her mouth a shocked 'O'. Clawd ran his hands through his hair and cringed.
"Oh man, I'm real sorry Frank..." He met her gaze with his lady-killing 'puppy dog eyes'. Her expression softened and she smiled a little.
"Oh, it's okay, plenty more where that came from." She stooped down to start collecting the pieces. She turned over a mostly intact circuit board in her hands. "Dad might be able to salvage some of this..."
Clawd stooped down too and helped pick up the pieces, still apologizing. Frankie laughed.
"Really, it's okay. This battery has lasted too long anyways." She looked up and caught his gaze, smiling. Clawd's eyes switched from her blue eye to her green eye and back. Man, they were gorgeous.
Clawd scooped up the last of the pieces and held his hand out to help Frankie up. She gratefully accepted the offer, placing her delicate mint-green hand in his huge brown one with a small zap of electricity that she probably didn't even notice anymore. But Clawd did. After hours of watching her skirt flick up over her ass, the sensation sparked right through his body straight to his groin, like the electricity surge that rose Frankenstein. Only now it was rising his-
"Clawd? Hellooo?"
Clawd snapped back into the real world. Frankie was waving her hand in his face as if he were blind. She laughed.
"Earth to Clawd? You in there?" She giggled, the sound like a chime in the wind. Clawd laughed too, thankful that mind-reading wasn't Frankie's forte.
"Yeah, I'm here." He smiled. Frankie smiled back, but her eyes seemed weak. She was going to need a charging soon if she was going to stay awake much longer. "I'd give it half an hour, tops, until she goes into hibernation." Clawd thought to himself. Frankie was giggling at him.
"Can I have it back?" She asked, shaking her hand, which was still encased in his. Clawd realised and let go, surprised that he didn't notice.
"Sorry..." He rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. Frankie just laughed it off.
"It's cool, but we gotta get back to mine for another battery before I shut down." She attempted to pick up her duffel bag, but in her weakened state, it seemed much heavier. Clawd strode over and took up both their bags over one shoulder, placed his hand on Frankie's shoulder to guide her across the courts to the adjacent carpark.
When the pair reached the Wolf family's black sedan (Clawd's was in the shop - he'd shredded the interior last week - long story), Frankie's thanked Clawd again for the lift and climbed into the passenger seat. Clawd nodded his 'your welcome', tossed the bags into the trunk and climbed into the drivers seat. Frankie had already made herself comfortable, one of her long legs crossed over the other. Her skirt had ridden up a little, just enough to see the line of stitching attaching her leg to her upper thigh. The sight of those smooth long legs almost made Clawd pant. Was he really going to do this? How would things be after this? What would happen at school? What would happen if the cops got involved? Clawd shuddered a little, but the excitement of the taboo act combined with his fiery urges quickly wiped the thoughts from his mind. He started the car and accelerated much faster than necessary out of the parking lot.
Frankie yawned, stretching her arms out in front of her. She smoothed down the stomach of her uniform and sighed.
"Hey Clawd?" She asked quietly. "You mind if I power down for a bit? Save energy?" Although it was a question, it seemed she was intent on resting a while regardless. Clawd nodded.
"Yeah, no problem." He glanced over just as she laid her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, stretching her lean body out along the seat. Her smooth bolted neck, the dip of her collarbone, the curves of her petite breasts underneath her uniform, her taut stomach and long silky legs... Clawd tightened his grip on the wheel, trying to stifle his growing erection. Just imagining all the things he could do to that minty body, seeing and hearing her moan his name in his minds eye... She was so much sexier than Draculaura, and she knew it. She wore that short little fearleader uniform just to tease the big strong boys. She knew she was making them ache every time she batted an eyelash or strutted down the hall in a tiny skirt. A muffled groan escaped Clawd's lips. Man, Frankie was almost famous for her sexy outfits. She could wear the shit out of anything you threw at her. For some reason Clawd pictured Frankie in his room wearing absolutely nothing but one of his casketball shirts, crawling across his bed on all fours towards him, her eyes trained animalistically on his throbbing manhood. Another groan escaped him, louder this time. Frankie roused from her half sleep.
"Huh? What?" She drawled in her half-unconsciousness. Her eyelids drooped heavily. Her reserve battery was the only thing powering her luscious body now. Clawd could barely contain himself. He kept his eyes glued to the road and his grip on the wheel tight. All he needed now was a place to pull over, and the fearleader would be his. His breath became jagged in his efforts to look calm. Frankie noticed and held her eyes open a little more.
"You okay?" She asked. Clawd ignored her, eyes raking the road ahead for the smallest chance. Frankie's eyebrows knitted, and she tried weakly to pull herself up straighter in her chair.
"Clawd? Hey?" She barely had a chance to say any more when her iCoffin buzzed in her bra. Clawd looked over and saw her reaching down her top to retrieve the phone, accidentally pulling the shirt a little too far out, revealing most of her supple breast to the heated werewolf. Clawd furiously tried to shove down any reaction but a low, feral growl erupted from his throat. Frankie seemed startled, but answered the phone with a wary look at the driver.
"What's up Lala?" She questioned, eyeing Clawd. Finally, he found what he was waiting for.
The sedan swerved to the side of the road with a violent jerk, knocking Frankie's head to the window and causing her to drop the phone. She cried out, half startled, half frightened. Clawd wrenched the door open and charged around the car to Frankie's side. In her shock, it was not until he almost tore her door off that she really began feeling scared.