WARNING: this piece contains themes of underage sex and beastiality. Please use your best judgement when deciding whether to read on.
Perched on the edge of her bed she rolled one white sock down over her knee and kicked it off. Such articles of clothing were worn on the cusp of perverseness. Sally was young enough to slip past her parents without question, the tops of her socks just an inch below the hemline of her skirt. But walking to school, her appearance didn’t escape the notice of the men on the street, most of whom had just enough decency to be ashamed of themselves.
As for Sally herself, she was an anomaly amongst her peers. Whilst her school friends blushed and spoke in hushed voices about the boy with the sandy hair, Sally daydreamed stories of pirates and goblins and princesses. She had the wherewithal to be aware of how desperately she clung to her fast disappearing childhood, but she was determined not to release the balloons that floated above her bed until absolutely necessary.
She raised her right leg to pull the second sock from her toes; she unclipped her skirt and peeling off her vest she stood, five feet five, in er white cotton panties, pulling the ties out of her hair. The room was scattered with clothes and paper from which the crudely sketched faces of fairies and witches and cartoon creatures looked up at her, obligingly sketched and penned by better artists than she.
She paid them no attention, flicking the overhead light off as she dove into bed. Having neglected to make it that morning she struggled with the duvet, tugging it as she sought her usual position. This battle raged longer each evening, and she began to appreciate the crisp, ironed sheets her Mother provided every fortnight. Finally wrestling the covers into complacence over her near-naked little body, she reached for Brown Bear. He had always been there, protecting her from sadness and thunderstorms and memories, from frightening films and monsters lurking under the bed, in the wardrobe. Nowadays he was habit, not necessity, but still she missed him when he tumbled to the floor and disappeared with the dust beneath her bed.
Pulling him tight to her soft, gently shaped chest, she breathed in the worn, comforting smell of his head and sighed happily. When she was a toddler Brown Bear had taken up almost as much space in the bed as she did. Now she only felt his soft fur against her stomach and chest, his head tucked beneath her chin. Her hands rested on his back, where he was plucked bald from her loving childhood.
Securely positioned, with Brown Bear keeping her warm, Sally found it easy to drift off to sleep, and once there, very little could rouse her. Her snoring was infantile, her body shaking with the impact of her breaths, and in her head a convoluted mishmash of her day began to form strange dreams. She watched men in suits traverse great puddles in the supermarket car park, and mice curl up in tea cups. She ignored the darkness raging to her left as she chased her toothbrush, too ashamed to go to school without her usual dental routine. Not to mention the harrowing fear of losing her teeth and finding them like popcorn in her horrified hands. Then returned the persistent dream, forcing its way past her lulling subconscious to the forefront of her mind. Mixed with a horror film of which she had once been shown stolen clips, her mind conjured again and again the images in her sexual health book. Her vivid imagination brought the static and mechanical visuals to life, and beneath her chin, Brown Bear shifted.
Deep in her sleep, her pale slender arms clutched Brown Bear tight, willing him to remain small and comforting, cosy and close, but his fur bristled and she began to feel the power of bones building across his expanding back. She recoiled as he grew too large to nestle beneath her chin and she felt his fur grow silky and thick, his jaw move as he growled long and low behind his teeth. Sally trembled, staring up at his bright amber eyes.
Brown Bear looked but didn’t see; he glanced over her pale skin. Still her teddy bear; still there for warmth and to be held, but with his expanding frame, with his transformed muscle, other desires crashed through his childish appeal. Brown Bear was man shaped. He used his paws like hands as he manipulated her little body, turning and fawning. He didn’t mean to hurt her, but he had no intention of letting her go as he pushed her little legs apart and tore her knickers from her body with one pointed claw. Sally shook. Sally shivered. Sally was soaked. She refused to understand the heat that radiated from between her legs and how his fur, on her inner thighs, made her body pulse with delight, even beneath her cold sweat. She frowned as he moved closer, licking her shoulder, and she felt the large head of his penis nudge her sex.
No waking thought seemed to have conjured this desire, but as he pressed inside her, she filled her fists with his fur and let him fuck her.
The sensation was intimate. Even grown large and beastly, he was still Brown Bear. Still smelled like childhood, still better present than absent. She rocked against him, gasping at the extraordinary sesnation of him, inside, penetrating, again and again and again.
She felt impossibly small, but ever powerful. Although she could not push him off or distract him from his desire to fill her, he was still her teddy bear. He still belonged to her, his function nothing but the comfort and pleasure of her clasping arms.
She saw his teeth glint at her neck like blades in moonlight and she shivered, but said nothing, knowing she could trust him implicitly. Her excitement grew. His fur brushed her lips lightly, teasing her tender flesh, as the largeness of him pierced her again and again. It occurred to her that this beast would surely stretch her, making her body ache, and yet he did not. In diagrams, even human, male organs seemed impossible when her curious fingers felt the small hole of her virginity.
Brown Bear grunted and growled above her, pinning her close, and she sighed as he convulsed, pulsing and throbbing between her thighs, and withdrawing, leaving behind nothing but his heated liquid, which pooled on the sheets below her. Brown Bear curled up, satiated, shrank.
• • • • •
Sally awoke to the screaming of her clock, and grey clouds and the light patter of rain. Turning onto her back she silenced the alarm, without glancing, and sat up in the midst of her rumpled bedding which, she knew, once again, she would not straighten.
Efficient as ever, and working on little time at all, Sally washed, dressed, brushed her teeth and plaited her hair with swift nimble fingers. Sweeping papers and books from the desk and the floor into her rucksack, she took one final look around her room and her gaze fell on Brown Bear.
Discarded, lying lazily on his side amidst the collateral of her tossing and turning, his amber eyes seemed to glint at her. Sally’s stomach lurched with discomfort and guilt at the memory of her vivid dreams, the imagination of her playthings as predators and violators. She reached for him, meaning to throw him away, to forget her childhood, to grow up, but as her fingers slipped into his fur a lump rose in her throat.
Placing Brown Bear carefully back on his side, she put the duvet over him, and left for school.