This is my first story, and actually my first post. Please tell me what you think. Or, you know, so long as it's helpful and constructive.
EDIT: Apparently this is gonna take several posts.
Julie was just like any seventeen-going-on-eighteen-year-old girl, she thought. She was independent, attractive, generally confident and at least not dumb as a post. Naturally, this means she was not just like any other girl. In fact, if she had taken the chance to look around, she would have realized she was not at all like most of the girls at her school.
She was also an anthropomorphic fox. But, that was normal, most of the girls in her school were either foxes, horses or rabbits. There were a few other species represented, but those seemed to be the most common. What really set her apart, aside from her amazing good looks and size 38 DD bra size, was her two tails. Her mother and father had never explained that to her, despite her mother having four and her father being a anthro clydesdale. She should have had some of his traits, but for some reason unbeknownst to her, she was almost flawlessly fox.
But, she cared very little for this fact until someone noticed it for her. Usually, it was a guy who had not seen her yet. Most stared, others whistled. Some even tried to touch it, apparently to see if it was real. To each, her response was usually to blush, but those boys who tried to touch her tails, she got inexplicably angry at. Girls, however, she often stared back at, her anger still present, but not as greatly as when it was a boy.
But it was rare now for anyone to even glance at her unique tails. Mostly, people only noticed her ass, which fit her breast size quite well. Her hips we a bit small for the set, though. Her waist, she thought, could use some work. If she had ever paid attention, she would also have known that most of the girls at her school dreamed of having her waist, and hips for that matter. Even without this knowledge, it was commonplace to see Julie wagging her hips from side-to-side through the halls of Vulpine-Equine-Lapine High School, where currently she was in her Senior year.
It was the first day back from Winter Break. She wore a heavy coat that fit her figure snuggly. It was white, like her soft belly fur, while the interior was a dim orange. It was not unlike her body fur, which was a brighter shade of orange, fading to black at her hands and paws. She, like eighty percent of the school, had more animalistic feet, which bent backwards below her knee, until they came down to her paws, small toes surrounding a central mass, each with soft pads on their bottoms. These paws were covered by thick, striped wool socks that looked more like booties, and then soft leather boots that had furry ruffles at the top. These ruffles were pink, an odd contrast to her dark brown pants. The pants were winter-weight, which was really difficult to make fit her. For one, she had needed the extra tail-space, and two, her ass was larger than the opening. They eventually just cut a new zipper to fit. Her low-cut neck shirt, now visible because her bust had burst the zipper during the break, was also pink, and had the image of an airship on it, the cover of her favorite band's latest album.
She walked in to school from her car, parked near enough to walk. She pulled the makeshift-zipper on her coat up, which pushed her bust yet higher, and exposing just that much more cleavage. She walked, her hips spanning the hallway with every step, to her locker. Her combination had not changed in all previous three years, so it was literally a flick of her wrist to open it. She pulled the relevant books form the small shelf inside, and placed one of the two notebooks she had been carrying beside the others. She closed the door and spun the dial back to locked.
She turned, and was immediately met by the gaze of a new student. While he was not anywhere near her, it was rather early, and they were the only two in that hallway. He was a hybrid, part wolf, part horse. What kind of horse, she could not tell, because he had the long, blackish-gray fur of a wolf on almost every inch of his body, save his stomach. His eyes were savage, but soft. He was muscular. But he also had a gut, though he was by no means fat. He was taller than Julie, but that was not difficult, especially for his horse half. His head was canine, with fangs outside his lower lip, meaning he was descended from the Dire wolves, long thought extinct. From his waist down, however, he was all equine. His tail was the many-haired and active mane of a horse, braided slightly at the top. His feet were bent like a horses, and ended in hooves, which were bare save for two metal shoes stamped into them. He wore a vest only, which was black and blended in with his body fur, but made a stark contrast when it fell across his white belly fur. His pants were black cargo pants, the pockets filled with small things he would need during the school day.
When he noticed Julie staring, he started, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry."
Julie was taken aback as much as he was, "No, it's okay, I'm used to new people staring."
The wolf-horse smiled sheepishly, "That obvious?"
"Only noobs stare like that at these," she said, giggling and swishing her tails in his direction while turning a full three-hundred and sixty degrees, "And to be perfectly honest, I kind-of like it."
She had been lying of course, but for some reason could not stop herself. Behind her orange and black fur, she was blushing, as well. His eyes locked with hers for a second, and she saw he was blushing himself. She smiled again, asking, "So, what's your name?"
He looked at her, his canine ears twitching, "Mason."
"Well, Mason, I'm Julie, Senior."
"Pleasant greetings, fellow Senior Julie," Mason said, partly sarcastically. The silence dragged on for a moment. Then Mason's ears twitched once more, and one of Julie's friends, a Lapine named Darla, bounded up, shrieking:
"Hi Julie!" after which she giggled and hugger her friend.
Julie stared at her friend. Darla was always so bubbly, almost annoyingly so. Still, she meant well. Julie returned the hug, saying just as loudly, but more sarcastically, "Hi Darla!"
The two hugged for a moment before breaking off. Julie looked to her side, where Mason had been only a moment before. He was gone, however. There was a post-it stuck to a locker near his last location. Julie walked over and looked at it, reading aloud:
Sorry, I hate loud noises. Maybe I'll see you during the day.
Darla, of course, stared blankly after her friend. Unlike most of the girls in the school, Darla was rather like a bag of rocks when it came to brains. Most of her friends, and family for that matter, just assumed her head had gotten a little squashed in the womb, her five fraternal twin brothers crowding her out. But, without her brothers, she probably would have fallen victim to the bullies in elementary school, like the wolf gangs that all seemed to gather at Lapine primaries. They were also the stronger part of the defensive line at Vulpine-Lapine. Julie just shook her head, and the two headed for Darla's locker.
Her first class was High School Calculus, which she took with Darla. How the poor girl got into the class, Julie never knew, but she could not tell her derivatives from her divisors. Nor that from her dividends, but Julie had problems with that relationship, too.
Second period (well, third, Vulpine-Equine-Lapine had a two-day schedule) was her first elective, Fashion Marketing. Darla, bless her heart, could not get into this class, and had settled for Remedial Shakespeare. Actually, this was one of Julie's worst classes. While it was fun, and she was technically good with designs, she never had the feel for current and future fashions. And almost everyone in the class was stuck-up to some degree, so Julie never made any good friends, or good acquaintances for that matter.
Third, or fifth, period was another elective, following lunch. It was an advanced typing class that got into the next layer of computer use, such as word processing and databasing. And small bits of programming, but that was only when the teacher did not like the programs the school provided them.
Julie's last class of the day was her absolute worst class: Language and Writing. In preparation for college, "And the real world," as her teacher liked to say, the class was designed for paper-writing. "And, no, you cannot use a computer."
Julie entered the class, Darla following closely on the balls of her feet. Her energy seemed never to decline, and had been reprimanded by several teachers countless times for fidgeting in class until they got tired of telling her off and just ignored her, even when she had the right answer, which was not very often. Unfortunately, that meant that most of the time Julie was also in the teacher's blind-spot. And she had the correct answer a good eighty percent of the time. Julie scanned the room for two available seats, as they were very close on time. She found two suitable seats, and headed for them.
It was only after she sat down that she realized why they were empty. When she turned to look at her neighboring desk-mate, her gaze turned straight into the calm, wild eyes of Mason, the wolf-horse from that morning. They exchanged warm yet embarrassed smiles as the teacher entered the room and closed the door. Rather, slammed the door and made Darla lose her seat.
"Sit back down Miss Carro, and turn to page one-hundred and twenty-two in your books."
Darla at least had the brains not to ask if she meant only she had to turn to page 'one-hundred and twenty two.'" Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the only person more air-headed than Darla, Jackson, Darla's cousin. His stupidity gave credence to their families' theory about their heads and squishing.
He said, quite loudly and blandly, "Do we all have to-"
The teacher, mercifully, cut him off, saying at the higher part of the she-horse's lungs, "YES, Mister Carro, you do. As do the rest of you," she added, scanning the room with her spherical black eyes. "You will read, if you have not already, the section dealing with citations. Until now I have not made you do so, only because the school says I can not."
Mason's hand raised, and when acknowledged, asked the very question Julie had been asking in her head, "What if we have read the section, ma'am?"
The teacher looked at him, surprised. Her ears pricked upward, and she said, shrugging happily, "So long as you do not disturb the class, Mister Dirvire."
Every book in the class turned to the specified page, save for those in front of Mason and Julie. Julie's tails flicked behind her, her excitement building. She looked at the desk in front of Mason. Her general confidence was lost behind a cloud of unknown origin in her mind. She watched as he produced a notebook, covered in fresh pen ink with dark symbols, which made her a little uncomfortable. But, inside, the book was notes from the day. He flipped to a blank page and wrote small messages.
It seems my hope was not misplaced.
Julie's ears twitched, as a lightbulb might go off above a scientist's head, and she rushed to get her own paper. The flurry of motion attracted the eyes of the teacher, who said nothing, but scowled her long face at her. Looking falsely apologetically back at her and dragging her notebook and a pencil to the top of her deck.
Your ta bunny friend shook my sensitive ears pretty badly.
Sorry, she's like that.
So I see.
There was a moment of silence between them again, as each searched for something to say. Pages turned across the room.
So, where'd you transfer in from?
"Your time is up. If you have not finished the section, I suggest you taken Mister Divire and Miss Nonatagel's lead for tomorrow's reading. For now. . . "
The class passed otherwise uneventfully. Darla rode the bus with her brothers, so she went one way while Julie went another. Mason, however, had seemed to stay where he was until all had left. Curious, Julie sat, her coat easily blocking the chilling wind, on the hood of her Sport Utility Vehicle. She was one of two vehicles left in the lot by the time Mason left the building. He now carried a backpack and motorcycle helmet. This was handy, as the remaining vehicle was in fact a motorcycle. It was decorated with the same symbols as Mason's notebook.
She watched him climb atop the bike and attempt to kick-start the engine. The engine revved, sputtered, then died. He tried again, as if this were a normal proceeding. The engine gave out a second, and eventually third and fourth time. Julie, concerned and fairly generous, drove her SUV over to him.
Mason seemed to ignore her. He got down on the ground and began inspecting the bike. After a few minutes of pushing, prodding and several seemingly-arbitrary wrench-turns, he tried again to start the 'cycle. Once more, but with more gusto and a louder popping sound, the engine started sputtered, and failed. But, the bottom came out of it this time, permanently stranding him. Or, it would have if Julie had not been sitting nearby.
"Would you care for a ride?" She said brightly.
He jerked his head, still helmeted, in her direction. Unsnapping the straps holding it in, he lifted the visor. His eyes were fury solidified. But upon seeing her, their violent gaze became shielded. Not gone, but hidden.
"If you don't mind getting your carpet dirty."
"Not at all," she lied, again. She climbed out of the SUV and popped the back gate open. Mason, helmet now removed to the bike itself, lifted it as if it were no heavier than a feral dog, and set it gently into the back of the larger vehicle. He was even kind enough to put the broken oil pan directly beneath it in a vain attempt at sparing the plush carpeting of Julie's truck.
Removing his backpack, Mason climbed into the passenger seat, a hole made especially for anthros directly at the base of the seat. He set his backpack behind his seat with a light toss. From the sound of it, Julie would have guessed that only his notebooks were in it now. Her own books were set behind her own seat in a careful manner which covered her normally-unorganized manner.
"Anywhere specific I can take you?" she asked, just as cheerfully as she had been that morning.
Mason looked at the fox, his eyes calming quickly. He smiled again, but this time his fangs were more visible. He spoke in a low voice, "Labyrinth Street."
"Really?" Julie asked, "Which block?"
"The end of it, actually."
Julie was taken aback. At the end of Labyrinth Street was a large house called The Labyrinth for its well-known basement which was a giant maze. At the center there was said to be a great treasure, but to take it meant figuring the maze out from a different angle, with walls constantly moving. Nevertheless, Julie brought the truck to reverse, and backed out the space. She took one last look at Mason to be sure he was not just playing with her.
"Yes, I live in that house," he said, "My Grandfather was a powerful Black Clydesdale. A contradiction in terms. That's why I have these legs."
"Oh," Julie gasped. She had heard the stories. Two generations prior, a Black Clydesdale who happened to be a self-proclaimed sorcerer turned out to be just that. He had built the manor house, then disappeared. The house had been empty since then, until now it seemed.
The drive to Labyrinth was almost silent. The radio kept the truck from being uncomfortably quiet. Julie was afraid of asking the questioned that now burned within her mind, and it seemed Mason was not going to press them out of her or give any more explanations. But upon reaching the Street, he began to fidget. He kept cocking his head to one side, as if listening for something only he could hear. But, so far as Julie knew, nothing was out there.
"That's my house," Julie said suddenly, pointing to a three-story home with a widow's walk and gothic theme.
Mason looked, almost knowingly, at the house, but said nothing. He just sat back in the chair and watched his own house slowly rise into view. Though rise is not quite the correct word, because it was at the top of a light-graded hill. The house, like most of the neighborhood, was very gothic in appearance, with useless buttresses sticking out at almost random angles. The house looked disheveled, but it was meant to look that way. All the angles had been placed perfectly, to both look ramshackle and distort its actual height. In reality, it was just a wider version of most of the three-story houses on the street, but to anyone driving up the long, silent drive, it seemed an imposing building with several extra stories.
The gate was closed when they came to it. Mason fished a small remote from his backpack and pressed its only button, a large white one. The gate swung open, allowing entrance to the grounds. The grounds were much more cheery and just as beautiful as the house itself, with gold-gilded fountains and smaller gardens filled with unseasonal reds and blues. The front door had a circular drive int front of it. Waiting in front of the door were two people, one a mongrel-looking anthro dog in a formal suit and white gloves. The other was an old anthro tabby cat in a classic nanny dress. As Julie pulled to a stop, the dog opened the passenger door with a gloved hand.
"Welcome back, Master Mason," he said, his voice old and worn, but with a firm grasp such as a rich-kid's social guardian might have, "We were worried when you didn't call again."
"I told you my cell died."
"Yes, but that's no reason not to stop somewhere and make a call, you know," the tabby had a voice that perfectly fit her appearance, "And besides, what would your mother think if she saw you now?"
"I'd hope he was happy I'm still alive," Mason said as Julie opened the back gate again. The servants apparently had not yet noticed her. That yet turned to now and passed, and the servants looked at her in surprise.
"What have we here?" the mongrel said under his breath.
"Has he found a mate so soon in a new city?" the Tabby did not hide her voice quite so well.
"She's just a friend, oh ancient ones," Mason spat.
"Well, if she's just a friend, then you can inviter her in without a problem," Another gentleman had appeared in the group. This one was a dark grey Dire wolf. He too wore a suit, but it was more casual, and he wore a red shirt beneath it.
"Yes, I can Dad," Mason said calmly, "And before you ask-" he gestured between Julie and the new Wolf and back again, "Dad, this is Julie, Julie, my Dad."
"Nice to meet you," Julie said, tentatively.
"I'm sure," the wolf said. It sounded genuine, but there was a hint of something beneath the surface that troubled Julie. "Well, won't you come in then?"
Julie looked at Mason, who shook his head almost imperceptibly.
"Sorry, but I must get this homework finished," Julie said, closing her SUV back up, "First day back and they're already piling it on."
"Ah, well, don't let us keep you, then," Mason's father said in a saccharine voice.
Julie returned home just a little wary of Mason's family, and now more afraid of the house than she had been.
The next day's classes were: of all things to have early in the morning Gym, Government 1 in which students learned about the local, state and federal governments and their relationships with each other, Julie's Piano elective, which was Darla's favorite and best class, and Physics. Mason was in this last class, and Julie found herself accidentally beside him again.
I'm beginning to make a habit out of this, she thought, Or maybe the gods are trying to tell me something.
The class was mostly boring. Except for the lab at the end of the class. Because she had placed herself beside the new guy, she had been placed in his group to "show him how we do things here," as if they were different outside this school. They talked throughout the lab, Mason opening up about his family a little more.
"Well, my father's actually the rich one. My mother just wanted to move back in to the house. Dad seems to think the families, like your's, should be paying rent on the land he claims they're 'squatting' on."
"Well, I know my parents actually own the land our house is on."
"And they're not the only ones."
Mason had even talked about the strange symbols in his bike:
"They're native symbols that have been given spikes. Though my dad has a taste for macabre architecture, he really isn't quite as in to Macabre lifestyles. So, I thought it'd piss him off if I started drawing them," he smiled with satisfaction as his chest puffed outwards, "And I was right."
Julie giggled sincerely. She had been doing that a lot recently. Mostly just in the past two days. She had also started strutting a lot more confidently, if that was at all possible. Her hips swayed in an even greater arc, causing most of the girls in the school to look at her with even more contempt than usual. And the guys in the school were staring more now, too. She could not tell anyone why, not even herself.
Class ended with a bang, as one of the groups' project exploded off their table, singing the fur off the group's fronts. Mason had been quickest with the extinguisher, Julie only a step behind him, pulling her burnt classmates to the full-body wash for needed cold water.
Julie walked all the way down to the parking lot with Mason before telling him she had actually ridden the bus tat morning. He, laughing incredulously, offered her a ride on his bike, with an extra helmet he just happened to have today.
"Do you need to be home immediately?" he asked, his voice light and playful.
"Nope. And my cell's charged if they need me back."
"Good, I want to show you something."
As Julie held on tightly around Mason's waist, he took off down the road to a small, secluded spot not far off Labyrinth. It looked like an old rabbit-hole, but was far too large.
"It's a wolf den. Very old at that," Mason explained.
Julie bristled, now wary and defensive by instinct.
"Don't worry, it hasn't been used since before we were born."
Julie looked at Mason, her eyes narrowed, "It's also very secluded."
Mason frowned, then his face lowered in realization, "I didn't bring you here for that," he moved to the back of the small, cave-like entranceway. He slid his hand across the hand-worked stone until he found what he was looking for. Sliding his claws into the rock as though it were butter, he pulled the slab sideways, revealing a narrow tunnel.
"Behind here is a network of tunnels that lead to every house on Labyrinth, including both mine and yours."
Julie looked down the dark passage, not quite sure what to think, or feel. She decided fear was an appropriate response. Instead of screaming, like Darla would have, she stepped up to the passage, staying berry near to Mason, but far enough away so he could not push her in. He stepped closer to her. Julie turned her gaze to him, defiant and challenging at the same time.
Mason put his hands up, palms toward Julie. He stepped back.
"So. . . this tunnel leads to both our houses?"
"And every house on the street, one way or another."
Julie stepped into the darkness and shadow. A spider had recently been here, for their webs caught about her arms and chest. The tunnel was empty beyond the first few, though. But it was darker than even her vulpine eyes could see, and there were no smells save dust that hung in the air. A light came from behind her, and she turned. Mason held a small LED light in his had. It had to bee for her, for his canine eyes could surely see in such dark.
"The first left leads to your house. It comes out in your basement," he said. Julie probably should have been outraged that he had been in her house without her or her parents knowing. She could not bring herself to be so, however. He stepped ahead of her, which was a difficult task considering the space. Along that short distance, he paused. Julie, at first, wondered why. Then she realized he had brushed her substantial chest. It was good it was dark, because Julie blushed, instead of the more predictable response.
But he led the way to her home, taking things slowly as many of the passageways were strewn with rubble. But Julie maintained her species' graceful movements throughout it all, rendering his awfully kind gesture nearly useless.
They came to an opening in the rock, which was covered by a panel of wood not unlike a door. But there was no handle, and no apparent way of surpassing it. Mason, however, set his shoulder against the panel and preceded to use the horse-like strength in his legs to push it open. Julie was fairly sure she could never do that, unless there was a handle or something on the other side.
The door finally opened far enough to see in. Sure enough, it was Julie's basement. And, fortunately, there was a small bar across the other side of the panel which could be pulled to open the tunnel from the house side.
"And that is why most people never bother to block the door off," Mason said, following Julie's gaze, "Nobody believes a wolf could open the door, if any still remained"
Julie smirked, "I guess this proves them wrong."
"Not quite," he said, slapping his thigh.
They stood in silence, once again just staring at each other, their smiles betraying their own feelings. Both sets of ears twitched as the basement door's lock slid open. Shoving Mason in first, Julie dove back into the tunnel. He pulled it shut as quickly and quietly as he could, which was not very much of either. Thankfully, it have Been Julie's brother who had been trying to open the door. She knew her brother was not very dextrous. He had, somewhat comically, inherited his hands from their father. Essentially, he had hooves with an extra bend in them, and an opposable thumb that was set just a little too far back. But he still learned to write with them, and he mostly typed what he needed anyway.
In the darkness, though, only the two's frantic breathing could be heard. Then they heard hoof-steps going away from the door. Julie and Mason breathed a sigh of relief. In this closeness, Julie could smell every scent normally trapped in Mason's fur. Her eyes fluttered closed as she took in what she could. Then she snapped back, remembering how her mother had warned her of such scents.
"All men are the same, though they try to hide it. They each give off a scent that would-" Oddly, the memory ended there. She knew it was something she did not yet want, but even if a god had asked her, she could not have remembered.
"I-" Mason's soft voice came from behind Julie. She turned slightly, her eyes fixed even in the dark. "I've wanted to ask, could I-" His speech broke off again. She smiled reassuringly, knowing he could see it even if she could not see him.
He took a breath before continuing, "I've wanted to ask if I could touch your. . .," as he trailed off Julie thought he was going to say "boobs." He did not, though, and said, quickly and quietly, apparently embarrassed about it, "I was wondering if I could touch your tails."
Reflexively Julie's tails twitched. No one had ever asked before. Everyone that had wanted to seemed just to reach out in a trance and rush it with their fingers. To be perfectly honest, she was at a loss for an answer. She knew she would get inexplicably mad if he did, but then again, that was for those who just did it. But Mason had asked.
After a long moment of silence, Julie smiled again and turned her flank in his direction, saying softly, "Sure."
Mason reached his large had out, hesitating just above her tail's fur. Then, slowly, he lowered his hand into the fur, letting each hair caress his hand, but also letting his hand caress the hairs. Julie shivered, his touch causing a different fire in her. He ran his hand up her tail, slowly, pausing just above its base, then moved to the next, stroking the fur the other way.
It was a perfect moment, Julie thought. Her feelings were now solidified. She was utterly attracted to this Dark Wolfdale. His hand had not left her tail when she whipped around, bringing him into a long, passionate kiss. His hand was still wraped around the end of her tail, but that only made Julie crave this kiss more. He let go, wrapping his arms around her instead. Their lips parted, but they remained in the close embrace, Julie's head now resting on Mason's chest.