Space Cubs 

Chapter 1

Light swirled in a sea of darkness. Cold. Hot. Tossing and turning. In the darkness of space, something reached across time, a force, a power so terrifying, it broke the boundaries of reality and woke Lyra with a startled scream. Her cries were drowned out by a bugle trumpeting over loud speakers. She lay in bed, eyes wide, breath hot and ragged. 
If the other recruits noticed, none would say. The morning scramble had started without Lyra. She groaned and sat up, mind swirling with thoughts about her fading dream. She sighed and stretched, her impossibly fluffy tail dancing behind her as she did. With practised elegance and discipline, she stood up, turned, and made her bed. It was not difficult, nor was it taxing, but the beds were so close together, that her tail whipped behind her and dragged the sheets off the neighbouring bunk.
“Watch that tail, Lyra!” 
“Sorry!” 
Lyra could not afford another delay. The hall outside the barracks was alive with the stern voices of her superior officers. Drill instructors stormed into the room, each barking orders at random girls before the academy commander herself strolled in.
“Rise and shine, laddies!” 
All the recruits, standing neatly attention at the foot of their beds, yelled in unison, “Good morning, commander!” 
All except one. Lyra, still naked, hurriedly tucked her sheets into the corner of her mattress and rushed to the foot of her bed. She reached for her loincloth, but her paw was smacked heavily by a very familiar cane. 
“Miss Deep-winter, late again, I see.”
Lyra held back her squeak of pain and immediately stood at attention.
“Yes, commander!”
Commander Lilian. A rat of the Sisters of Steel, combat veteran, war hero, a total bitch. She towered over Lyra with that signature toothy smirk. Her remaining eye, cold and calculating, inspected every inch of her young, little body. A lithe woman, beautiful grey-white coat, with freckles across her snout. A jagged scar ran across her entire face, from her forehead, under her eye patch, and down to her lip where it remained permanently split open. She was dressed in the finest military garb, decorated with various medals, ribbons, and accolades. The coat itself covered all of her chest, with long sleeves, but it cut off just above the waist, where a traditional loincloth kept her modest. 
“I like your thinking, Deep-winter.”
“Ma’am?”
“Of course, why hadn’t I thought of it before? I was foolish to allow my young cadets to run PT fully clothed.”
Lyra’s whiskers twitched.
Lillian turned to her assistant officer. “It’s going to be hot out there today, right Everest?” 
“Yes, Ma’am!”
Lillian nodded and turned to Lyra. “I love to reward hard work and innovation!” She smiled and patted Lyra on the shoulder. “You’ll be the first to test your theories from now on.” She grabbed Lyra’s loincloth and gave it to her assistant. “Everest, hold that till the sun sets. We don’t want Miss Deep-winter to be too hot.”
Lyra kept her eyes fixed to the front, not daring to look Lillian in the eye. 
“Good.” Lillian spun and walked in tight military fashion up and down the barracks. “PT, 0400. Chow, 0600.” She said, as she eyed each footlocker, bed, and recruit. “Impressive work here, laddies. If not for the poor performance of your compatriot, I would have awarded you all extra rations.” She smirked. “I suggest you all give Deep-winter some encouragement.” 
Lyra swallowed nervously as she felt several gazes land upon her, all with various levels of malicious intent. The room was suddenly permeated with magical energy. It flowed and swirled, like water against the shore, a storm brewing in the distance, of scorched ozone and the pressure of a thousand worlds. It took everything Lyra had to stay on her feet. 
“Am I clear?” 
“Yes, commander!” Lyra yelled, joining in with her squad. 
“Good girls!” Lillian smiled. “Go on then! On the double, move move move!” 
All the recruits hurried into the barrack halls and out to the tarmac. Lyra took a deep breath and followed the last of her bunk mates out into the hall. Sterilized bare metal, no windows, buzzing lights, doors locked tighter than a nun’s asshole, and auto-doors that had flashing yellow lights above them. The halls were packed with personnel, white coats, the laboratory types, muttering, jabbering on and on about the next horrible torture device or experiment to torment everyone with. 
It was best to never look those psychopaths in the eye. Lyra avoided all detection, keeping her head low and deep in the crowd of her fellow recruits. Buzzing overhead, ringing, then a large door opened with a hiss and fresh air swept over them. In near darkness, Lyra gritted her teeth as she filed into formation. Front and centre, as directed. There, in full view of the entire academy, naked to every vehicle that drove by, officers that wandered, and her peers that happened by. She bore it.
All the cubs in the academy were used to being naked. Near at all times they had no privacy. Always being watched, monitored, told what to do, where to do it, and when to go to the bathroom. Really, being naked outside was nearly the same, but rather than just the administration and her peers seeing her nude, the whole academy got to, including the boys. 
The pilot training program, populated by the best and brightest, mostly orphaned children, same as the space witch unit, trained every morning. And as if to further humiliate Lyra, the CO paraded the young girls past the pilot cadets. Of course, Lyra was pushed to be closest to them, her large tail her only hope to remain modest. The boys looked, how could they not? Pent up, rowdy, going through various stages of puberty. It was more of a punishment for them than for her. Each boy was dressed for PT, sweaty, worked up. They stopped almost immediately once Lyra was spotted. All staring dumbly at her naked, underage body. 
“Damn, girl!”
“I want some of that!”
“Slut!”
Hooting, hollering, cat-calling to the highest degree. Although humiliating, Lyra could not help but feel heated up by it all. Though, she tried not to look in their direction, and had hoped they would just jog by, but Everest gave her a nasty grin and stopped the unit.
“Okay, laddies, about face, twenty push ups!” 
Lyra’s eyes widened as she was suddenly presenting her rump straight towards the cadets. She kept her tail low, but she squeaked and lifted that tail quick when Everest gave her ass a sharp whack with her riding crop.
“Tail up, Deep-winter! Keep it off the ground. I want a perfect push-up, or you’ll be doing them all day.” 
Lyra growled silently to herself and lifted her tail. Her cunny, nearly smooth, with just the hint of purple pubic fur above her clit and around her soft, little petals; hinting at an early puberty for the nine year old girl, and above it all, her asshole flexed clearly under her large tail, all for the boys to oogle, with the approval of their own CO who caught on to Lyra’s punishment. 
“On your paws! About face! Twenty jumping jacks!”
Lyra was quick to her paws and spun around to face the cadet males, all of whom stared wide eyed and clearly aroused, even in the low light of early morning. She half expected the CO to let them have their way with her, not like that hasn’t happened before. She had heard horror stories of rape, sexual abuse, prostitution, and rampant pedophilia among the officers. The worst of it made her shiver, one story coming to mind of a young girl forced to bunk with the male cadets while she was experiencing her first heat. Lyra shivered and tried not to think about it while she bounced up and down. 
There, among the crowd, a familiar face caught her eye. A mouse boy, with stunning golden fur, that turned creamy white across his chest and under his muzzle, and soft, blue eyes looked to her with sympathy and worry; whilst trying to be respectful with his gaze, his cheeks still flushed red. Lyra’s heart fluttered and she gave him a genuine smile. The mouse relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief and returned the smile.
The moment did not last. Lyra was whisked away by the barking orders of Everest. The young squirrel was a sweating, panting mess. This PT was particularly tough, no doubt in part to her own fuck up, but it was quick to end. Everest marched the unit back to the barracks before the sun fully rose above the horizon. 
“I’ll see you all in the mess hall, 0600. You have time. Get cleaned up, we have a big day ahead of us.” 
“Yes, drill sergeant!”
Suddenly, it was all over. The whole unit relaxed simultaneously as Everest left the barracks. Lyra was quick to race away from the growing ire of her comrades. Grabbing a towel, she made a beeline for the showers before anyone could stop her. She knew things were coming to a head. A target had been placed on her, through the blessing of the Academy Commander herself. 
Lyra pushed her way through the crowded hall. She kept her head down, her tail low; her nudity an obvious sight to behold, one she was not so eager to give freely any longer. The showers were not far, for ease of use and efficiency. It was a small miracle. Many cadets clambered and pushed to be the first inside, all vying for the best spots; be it for the privacy that didn’t exist or for a shower head that had more pressure than a pissing child. 
Just as Lyra was about to disappear inside, a security door hissed and whizzed open with a loud clunk. She looked. Why did she look? She cursed herself under her breath as her eyes made contact with her mentor and partner, Bells. She stood more than a head taller than the little squirrel, with two large, swirling horns that looped around her big ears; with a messy mop of dark-burgundy hair flipped to the side and undercut. Posh, prim and proper, with nary an article out of place. Her loincloth was without wrinkles, her top tight and secure, squishing her developing breasts. She stood there, menacingly, her hand on her hip, her short, fluffy tail whipping with sass; her eyes a piercing gaze, shadowed blood-red with makeup. 
“Where do you think you’re going, kiddo?”
Lyra closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled sharply before opening them to reply.
“Shower before chow?” She said, rather hopefully. 
Bells gave a toothy grin. “Wrong. We’re going to the simulator.” 
Lyra cringed, and so did many of the other cadets within earshot. Those that could, the smart ones, made themselves invisible, ran, or disappeared into the showers before they themselves got pulled along. 
“News travels fast,” Lyra began, her whole body deflating. “They really want me dead, huh?” 
Bells gave the little squirrel a pat between the ears and then pulled her along by the shoulder. 
“No, not you, not us. Had they wished that, you’d have been terminated along with all the other rejects that came before you.” 
Lyra’s whiskers twitched. “You say that like it’s supposed to make me happy and proud.” 
“It should.” Bells said, rather matter of factly. “You had a very good teacher.”
“And yet, here I am.” 
“Here you are.” Bells agreed. 
The crowds thinned considerably as they walked the halls; even quiet enough to hear the whirl, hum, drone, and beeps of machines. Sounds that go unnoticed. Lyra heard it all. She heard her pawsteps, the breath escaping her lips, and the hammering of her heart against her chest as the simulator room came into view. The heavy metal door opened with a laboured hiss of screeching metal. 
“Come on, kiddo.” Bells said, slapping Lyra on the back. “We’ll have fun, right? Get this over with so I can tell the higher ups you got it good. They’ll forget all about you for the rest of the day.” 
“How relieving.” 
Bells rolled her eyes. “And you get to put on your loincloth.”
“Small miracles.”
The room lit up as they walked inside. Consoles lined the room, humming, beeping, lights flashing. Viewing ports, long, cylindrical, bay style, overlooked a vast arena. The computer groaned to life as Bells typed rapidly on the keyboard. A screen popped up, inputs flashed by, and parameters lined themselves vertical. 
Less than lethal.
Urban.
Explosives.
Magic.
Shock Bolter.
Swords.
1v1.
First blood. 
Lyra read each word, each line of code, each prompt. She ground her teeth and her tail whipped. This place would be the death of her. The mere thought alone made her blood boil. The vile treatment from her own countrymen left a lasting bad taste on her tongue. An ick she could not rid. 
Bells hit enter. “The program is set.”
Lyra said nothing.
“You will fight me to the best of your abilities.” Bells leaned in and whispered. “They are watching...” 
Lyra nodded, fighting back tears. 
“Good. Take the southpaw elevator. I will see you on the killing floor. Do not disappoint me, Deep-winter.”
Lyra shuddered as she heard her last name. A chilling reminder of how serious Bells took training. As if in a trance, Lyra walked to the elevator and left Bells alone in the control room. Thoughts swirled, swam, assaulted her as she descended. She looked to the battlefield as the room morphed, warped, and cleaned itself of debris before the hologram projector kicked on. Light shimmered, swayed, materialized, and solidified over structures that grew from the floor. The landscape went from a sterilized grid, to a war torn urban battlefield. Fires raged, hot and real. Water flooded the streets, walls crumbled, and artillery shells exploded in the distance. 
At the bottom of the shaft, the elevator door opened. Lyra walked into the staging area. Racks of weapons and ammo lined the walls. Explosives sat neatly in crates, grenades, detonators, plastics, anti-tank, not that the little squirrel could ever hope to even lift a launcher, but it was there, ready to be used on imaginary foes. 
This time, her foe was anything but false. 
89% of all Space Witch candidates perish. To survive, one must endure unimaginable hardship. In mind, body, and spirit. Upon their shoulders is the weight of a thousand stars, and yet, they look to the sky and ask for more. Bells was no exception. Not only did she survive, she thrived and dominated. The only surviving member of the bloodiest generation. The youngest witch to ever be indoctrinated. A leader of her own squad. At the age of 13, she would be granted her own apprentice, her first and only friend. 
Lyra browsed the weapons. A countdown timer flashed. One minute left. From a rack, she chose her rifle, a shock bolter, made to be less than lethal, delivering a devastating impact that discharged an immense amount of electricity. It was large and unwieldy for the young girl, but the shoulder strap was easily adjusted to fit her small frame. Of all the varieties of vibration blades, she preferred a double-edged straight sword, one handed, with no cross guard. She buckled the scabbard to her hip. It hung loosely over the front of her little mound, but it would have to do. 
10...
9...
8...
Lyra grabbed two flash grenades and clipped them to her belt.
7...
6...
5...
4...
The countdown rang in her ears and time seemed to slow. Agonizingly, she waited. 
3...
2...
1...
An alarm sounded and a red strobe light flashed as a large, mechanical door whooshed open. The sounds of the battlefield echoed through the staging area, shaking her to the bone. She charged forward into the unknown, just as her opponent would be, and found cover fast among the ruins of an old style, brick building. 
I have to get high, Lyra thought. Get a lock on her position... Can’t let her see me, can’t let her magic touch me.
Making good use of her biology, she climbed through a ruined upstairs window and scaled the siding and fallen timbers. Her muscles flexed under her fur as the ungainly weight of her rifle pulled her backwards. Even with the extra weight, she managed to clamber up to the peak, where she hid behind the chimney. She scanned the war torn buildings for any signs of movement. Fires raged, and buildings collapsed, sending plumes of smoke, dust, and debris into the air and across the cobblestone roads.
Where are you...
Several quick shots hit the chimney with resounding snaps! Lyra squeaked and took cover. Bolter shots, hard and heavy, dissipated on impact, showering her in pieces of brick and mortar. She blew dust from her nose as she wiggled away from the peak, head low, tail down. Her paws pulled her rifle from her shoulder and charged it with a single slide. There was no safety. 
The shots kept coming. A new volley aimed for the base of the chimney. The bricks groaned and shattered, and with a final, well placed shot near the top, sent the whole thing towards Lyra. She barely had time to roll out of the way before it crashed through the roof. Timbers splintered and beams flipped, sending her tumbling towards the ground. 
In that same split second, she disappeared. Gone in the shadows, faded. Into the inky blackness of her bone chilling dimension. A puddle of shadow danced between the falling debris. It skirted the edges of the road and took shelter under the lean of a fallen house. Lyra melted from the darkness, materializing from the shadows as if she herself had become one. Without missing a beat, she took a stance behind cover and aimed her bolter towards the shattered remains of her previous vantage point. 
The dust began to settle. The droning sounds of war loud and persistent. Her ears flicked to every sound, every movement. She pointed her rifle to the house down the street. Movement in the window. A shadow. A figure. She braced herself and fired! The gun kicked painfully against her shoulder. The bolter round zipped through the air and took out a window in an explosive shower of glass and wood. 
Lyra waited. Her eyes darted to every corner, window, door. Nothing. She exhaled sharply and took in new, calming breaths. She could not stay, not after giving away her position with a bad shot. Around back, flanking to the west, through yards, bushes, trees, and fallen walls. Lyra Skirted the edges of the battlefield, pushing the limits of the simulator. She ran hard and fast, laboured breaths turning to vapour in the cold air.
A row of shops lined the main road; blown out, abandoned, left as they were. Lyra jumped through the window of a candy shop and took to the back rooms. The loading dock offered an unobstructed view of the rear flank, where she was sure Bells would be slinking around. But she was wrong. Bells burst through the rafters from above, he sword coming down in a powerful slashing arc. Lyra’s body moved on its own, tilting just barely out of the way as the blade whizzed by. 
Lyra rolled away and unsheathed her sword all in one movement. Their eyes locked, teeth bared. 
“Playing with your food again, Bells.”
“Only with you, sweetheart.” 
Bells rushed forward, her blade a curved fencing sabre. Their swords clashed! Lyra parried with a flick of her paw and jabbed quickly, meeting nothing but air as Bells stepped backwards. Back and forth they swung, slashed, parried. Over rubble, in tight halls, and up the stairs to the roof, where Lyra felt the most pressure to be the first to use her magic. 
“Come on, Deep-winter,’ Bells slashed down again, missing Lyra by a hair and splitting a cinder block in two. “Jab, parry, slash, sidestep, parry, backstep!” 
It was uncanny. Bells predicted every move with stunning accuracy, as if the sheep herself was orchestrating every move. It was infuriating. With a growl, Lyra stepped backwards in the shadows and melted away. A puddle of darkness careened across the roof, between Bells’ paws, and behind her, where Lyra popped out with an expert jab!
Bells spun just in time to deflect the blade to the side. “Not bad!” 
Lyra kept up the attack, pushing Bells back with every thrust. “I’ve been thinking...” 
Bells’ nose wiggled as she balanced on the edge of the roof. “That’s a first.”
“I’m serious.” Lyra parried a blow. “I’ve been thinking about all this.”
“Not really the time to chat, is it?” Bells thrust forward with her blade, catching Lyra off guard and sending her flat on her ass. “You’re busy fighting a dangerous opponent.” 
Lyra rolled just as Bells brought her sword down and jumped back to her paws, sword at the ready. 
“Is this the life you had always dreamed of?” 
Bells stopped in her tracks and looked shocked for only a moment before wisely pressing the attack. 
“Careful, Deep-winter.” Bells lunged forward and grabbed Lyra’s sword paw, and with her free hand, she pulled out a dagger and pressed the blade to Lyra’s neck; their muzzles inches from each other. “They’re listening.” 
Lyra frowned and grabbed Bells by the arms and the two fell backwards into Lyra’s shadows. Bells had been here before, in training, and by invitation, but never was she able to fully brace for the shocking cold. 
Bells shivered. “I hate this place.” 
“I have to talk to you.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, kiddo.”
“I want to know. You’ve never told me.”
Bells let Lyra go and she shrugged as she floated aimlessly through Lyra’s magic. “You know me, slick. Shootin’ and lootin’ is the name of the game.” 
Lyra bridged the gap between them. “I want to explore the galaxy. I want to experience love. I want to live a normal life!” 
“You can fuck in the shower all you want, kid. Nothing stopping you.”
“That’s not love!” Lyra blushed and huffed hotly. “I know you get your rocks off to that, but not me.”
Bells rolled her eyes. “Kid, there’s not much out there. Trust me. I’ve been on enough missions.”
“How do you know? They play with our minds, you know that.” 
“That’s the cost of being a Space Witch. We’re valuable assets. You and I are weapons of war and that is all we will ever be. Now let me out of here, it’s fucking cold.”
“I am leaving!” Lyra blurted out. “Tonight, if all goes right.”
Bells exhaled hotly through her nose. “That is the most foolish and ridiculous thing I have ever-” 
“Come with me.” Lyra interrupted, as she pulled Bells in for a hug. “Please.” 
Bells hesitated to return the hug. Complicated feelings swarmed her mind. “You’ll be executed if you’re caught.” was all she could say.
Lyra sniffed back tears. “I know.” 
“Who has been filling your head with these delusions? Is it that little pilot boy? You’re not supposed to be fraternizing with the lower ranks.”
Lyra blushed and looked away. “Timothy has nothing to do with it.”
“He’s going with you, isn’t he?”
“He doesn’t know that.”
Bells hooted a quick laugh. “You haven’t even asked him?”
“Not yet!”
“You need a pilot to get you out of this system, that much is true. What if he says no?”
“He won’t be able to.”
“You’re going to kidnap him?”
“If I have to.” 
Bells rolled her eyes. “You were hoping I would take control of him, is that it? Part of your master plan to get three people publicly executed?”
“No, never. I have faith in Timothy to make the right choice.”
“Very romantic.” Bells snorted. “Does he know you like him?”
“N-no...” 
“Ah, see, what if he likes being here? What if he likes being a little pilot for the empire?” 
“He does not. He has told me as much.”
Bells smiled. “Having secret meetings with boys, hm?” 
“And what if I do? He’s the only friend I have in this shithole, besides maybe you, on a good day.” Lyra was crying now. Unable to hold back the flood of emotions. “I hope you are happy here, Bells. I’ll miss you so much...” 
“Come on, kid. Don’t get all sappy with me. You know it’s hard for people like me.” Bells gestured at herself, “I’m... different.”
“I still love you.” Lyra sniffed and rubbed her muzzle against Bells chest. “I’ll think of you often.”
“Damn, kid. You’re acting like I’m dead already. I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.” 
“I’ll make it, I promise.”
Bells sighed and patted Lyra affectionately between the ears. 
“It’s shower time. Get us out of here.” 
Lyra nodded grimly and let Bells go. 
“You do realize I’m going to have to kick your ass now.”
“Keeping it authentic.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment, if you got out without a scratch.”
With a lightning fast strike, Bells jabbed Lyra in the ribs, then just as fast, a left hook to the jaw. Lyra barely had time to squeak before Bells was on her. There was no chance to defend. No time to look surprised at the sudden ferocity and lack of restraint. Bells wrapped her arm around Lyra’s neck and squeezed. Panicked, Lyra’s eyes widened, she gasped for breath, and began to kick wildly; unable to just let it happen, as it was instinct to fight for air. 
“Shhh, go to sleep, kiddo...”
Lyra gasped and sputtered. Her eyes bloodshot with strain, rolling upwards as she gasped her last conscious breath and fell limp. The strange dimension instantly shattered! A violent flash of light blinded Bells as she tumbled through the dirt with Lyra’s unconscious body. The bighorn sheep snorted dust from her nose as she stood up. No emotion as she looked to Lyra on the ground. She bent down and placed two fingers on Lyra’s neck. 
A pulse. Bells turned and walked away. 
“See you in the showers, kid.”
Lyra groaned in pain. She stirred, coughed and sputtered. Her paw went to her head, nursing a splitting headache. 
I hate it when she does that...
It was the price of her treachery. Even now her jaw stung, and with each wave of pain, fear and second thoughts came and went. She pushed those feelings away as she stood and stretched. A shower is just what she needed. 
There were no gender assigned bathrooms on base, only ones segregated by rank. The grunts got their own shower and the officers had theirs. It made sense and it worked good. The showers were the only place on base that pent up soldiers, and cadets alike, could relax and let loose away from prying eyes. 
Lyra padded gently and carefully across the wet tiled floor. An ugly design, said to have come from a distant planet, historical value, they said, but not to her. The entire room was clouded with steam and the walls dripped with water. Naked creatures, kids, teens, and adults, came and went, all passing Lyra without a second thought.
Three rows of showers divided the room, not a single one private, nor was there space to shower in peace. The facility, and tradition, demanded the closeness of their soldiers, to build bonds and trust. Each shower head was barely away from the next, forcing each recruit to be shoulder to shoulder, wet fur rubbing and touching, tails tangling. Some thought it to be annoying, others, well, they took full advantage of the situation.
Lyra chose a spot far from the main door, where she would have some fleeting moments of privacy, and placed her towel to the side. The dial was tricky, ever a pain to get the proper temperature, but with a skilled flick of her wrist, Lyra had it perfect first try. She sighed as the hot water sprayed across her face and long, dark purple hair. Her sharp climbing claws combed through her hair and across her white-tipped ears, then down the bridge of her lilac snout, where she rubbed her creamy cheeks. That very same fur grew across her chest and belly, but gave way to her lilac coat at her shoulders, thighs, and back, where it grew along her tail, save for the patch of white at the very tip. 
The water melted all her stress away, even with the daunting day ahead of her. All thoughts and pains of her punishment faded quickly and her muscles relaxed. She let the water cascade across her face as she pawed blindly for the soap dispenser, jabbing uselessly at the button with wet fingers. 
“Let me help, kiddo.” 
Lyra pulled her head from under the shower and blinked the water from her eyes. “Bells?”
“Who else?”
Bells was very naked.  Her breasts, developing nicely, were soft and defined, with perky, pink nipples nestled in ashen-grey chest fur. Her equine cock twitched ever gently, slowly growing to life over those impressive balls.
Lyra smiled and went back to showering. “Go on, then. Get my back.” 
Bells stepped into the hot stream of water, lathered her hands with soap, and began to rub Lyra’s back fur. 
“Oooh, that’s the good stuff...” Lyra practically moaned. 
Bells pulled the soggy little girl in for a wet hug and nuzzled her gently. Lyra let herself relax and returned the nuzzle. 
“I’m sorry about training,” Bells said, like she had been rehearsing the line over and over in her head. “How’s the jaw?”
Lyra wiggled her jaw and shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“Let me make it up to you.”
Bells soaped up again and dragged her hands across Lyra’s chest, along those budding breasts, and the two rows of smaller nipples across her creamy belly; making sure to rub slow, little circles around each sensitive nub. Pleasure slowly seeped into Lyra’s mind, a swirling mass of lust, frustration, and desire. 
“That’s it...” Bells whispered. “Let me take care of you.”
Those roaming paws rubbed along Lyra’s sensitive belly, then, down to those pretty legs; to rub, squeeze, and comb ever teasingly through the fur on her inner thigh. The room grew quiet and the air felt alive with magical energy. The panic Lyra felt when she was touched by magic nearly instantly vanished. It wormed through her mind, crashing deep against her very soul, where it began to sooth, warm, and encourage. 
“Open those legs, kiddo. I need to get you clean.”
Lyra huffed hotly and did as she was told without any of her usual fuss. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire, a heated throb between her legs. She had felt it before, this intense desire, a need to sate an instinct she had yet to discover. It made her tail lift and her whiskers twitch. She knew, somewhere deep in her addled mind, that she was on the verge of her first heat; but, this was something different. Passion, love, desire, and lust. She could not work it out scientifically, nor logically. Her mind was a violent storm of puberty.
Even through the hot shower mist, Bells could smell Lyra’s wafting arousal. It had been so easy this time, to manipulate, to seed the thoughts and feelings. The little girl was unbalanced, confused, angry, and incredibly turned on without knowing why. Worst of all, Lyra was full of fear and growing regret. Bells took full advantage of Lyra’s mental state. Her powers of persuasion, potent, honed to the highest degree, could wiggle into the mind of friend and foe alike, and once inside, they were unknowingly at her command. 
Bells, herself, felt the waves of lust and desire rolling off the little girl. It was intoxicating. She took in that scent, devoured Lyra’s emotions, thoughts and feelings. She exhaled with a shaky moan and thrust her hips unbidden against Lyra’s wet, little bum; sliding her cock between those cheeks and resting her swollen flare against Lyra’s back. Lyra squeaked and braced herself against the wall in front of her and instinctively lifted her tail to the side. Bells large size was not a surprise to the little girl, having seen Bells naked plenty before hand, but the flare throbbing under her tail was. 
The showers were finally empty of cadets. Not a single soul to bother the two girls. A privacy Bells so desperately craved. With it, she grabbed Lyra’s butt, a cheek to each hand, and spread her, showing off that little tailhole and that perfect, underdeveloped peach. 
“O-oh gods...” 
Bells had tried before, to lewd and abuse the little girl, but never had she been able to go so far. This was her final chance. Arousal and sexual frustration got the best of Bells. She knelt behind Lyra and shoved her snout against those heated petals. Gods was she wet! The smell, musky, wet scent of squirrel and arousal, with the barest hint of little girl piss, as if the poor girl didn’t have time to wipe. 
“W-what are you doing, Bells?” 
Bells’ ears twitched and she pulled away from Lyra’s cunt, coughing out a shaky reply as she weaved magic back into Lyra’s mind. “S-still gotta clean your backside, kiddo.”
Lyra sighed and fell back into a dreamy state of lust. “It feels so good, Bells. You can be really sweet and thoughtful, sometimes...” She giggled. 
If Bells felt any guilt, she did not express it. She let Lyra calm down before moving her snout back against that pussy, where she took slow, gentle sniffs, along those wet folds and the cute patch of blooming pubic fur, and up to that cute, little star. Clean and soft. Bells took an experimental kiss, then, a full on smooch, making out with Lyra’s little asshole, making the young girl squeak and bark!
“T-that feels weird, Bells...”
“Shhh, it’s okay. Let me help you relax.”
Bells gave that little star a lick, making Lyra tense and stand up on her tippy toes. She smirked and pushed her tongue passed that tight, little rim, letting it squeeze around it. Lyra’s eyes widened as a whole new world of pleasure erupted. Her body tensed, her butt lifted against Bells’ face, and her toes curled as she chittered and moaned. That was all the consent Bells needed to push deeper. Her tongue explored that child hole, licking, probing, pushing against those walls in an effort to draw as much pleasure out of the little girl as possible; and for Bells herself, whom throbbed with growing need, leaking pre-cum out of a swollen tip. 
Little girl asshole was not enough for the sheep. Bells pulled out of Lyra’s ass with a wet pop, making the kid whimper with disappointment. 
“W-why did you stop cleaning me? It felt so good... It has never felt that good before.”
Bells giggled and rubbed her forearm across her saliva soaked muzzle. “I’m not done yet, kiddo. We just need to take a little bathroom break.” Bells smirked and nuzzled affectionately at Lyra’s wet, little petals, making sure her nose and mouth was directly under that cunt. “Go on, it’s okay, let it out.” 
Lyra was not unused to peeing in the shower, it was a natural way to go, after all, surrounded by water and the soap to clean up afterwards. It was easy to suggest for Bells, and Lyra was quick to obey. The first dribbles of child piss splashed against Bells’ nose, hitting her with that harsh, tangy scent. Knowing more was coming, she opened her mouth and let Lyra’s hot, yellow piss bath her tongue and fill her throat. She swallowed what she could, her hand slowly, teasingly jerking herself off as Lyra emptied her bladder on her face.
So much piss for such a little girl. Bells pushed her face up against that wet, pissing cunt and suckled the last of that child piss straight from the tap; making Lyra wiggle and dance in forced, unexpected pleasure. The piss Bells could not handle dribbled past her lips and down her chest. 
Bells was close. Her paw was a blur along her shaft as she took in the scents and tastes. It was simply too much for the Sheep. She stood up and aimed her cock at Lyra’s cunt. Her palm stroked the underside, up to her swollen flare, while her thumb teased the top, up and down, bringing herself to a powerful orgasm that tore through her body like a bolt of lightning. She was ablaze with pleasure! Her slender equine cock twitched, her glands swelled, and her balls tensed; sending shot after shot of hot cum across Lyra’s underdeveloped peach. 
Cries of pleasure echoed about the gaudy showers. Lyra instinctively lifted her tail when she felt the first strand of cum paint her cunny. Lust drunk and high on Bells’ influence, the little girl pressed her rump against the tip of that cock, and with a little dance and wiggle of her hips, that flared tip slightly spread her cunt and began to fill it with cum. 
The unexpected silky heat of child pussy made Bells gasp! She thrust her hips unbidden, much like a horse would, and painfully jabbed Lyra; her cock sliding up along that pussy, to empty her balls against that little asshole. The little girl squeaked and nearly fell forward, but steadied herself with her paws. 
“F-fuck...” Was all Bells could mutter as the last of her cum splattered against Lyra’s twitching asshole.
A faint splash, of paws in puddles of water. Bells’ ears twitched to the sound, and with her cock still in her paw, she looked. Timothy walked, naked, with a towel over his shoulder. 
“Hey, Bells.” Timothy said, with his usual smile and great attitude. “Hey, Lyra.” 
Bells was frozen where she stood. Not even a nod as cum dripped from her cock and Lyra’s pussy. Was this kid for real? It took a moment, but Timothy looked between the two girls, how could he not? He always looked when he could, especially in the shower. His cheeks flushed red and he squeaked, but was immediately ensnared by a panicked Bells. Her magic wormed into his mind and silenced him, formed warm and happy thoughts, and made him the perfect, obedient slave. 
“The little pilot, huh...” Bells chuckled. “That was a close one.”
Bells looked the little boy up and down. He was, admittedly, quite handsome; with beautiful pale-yellow fur, a creamy white body, and messy platinum blonde hair. She had seen him before, but not this close, and never naked. No wonder Lyra had fallen for this kid. He was quite impressive. His sack was hefty and it hung low, and he was no doubt producing cum already, despite him being no more than 9 years old. A breeder for sure, and equipped for the job, too, with a large cock that was already stiffening between his legs. 
“What to do with you...” Bells whispered to herself as she began to stroke her cock back to life. 
Lyra remained where she was left, paws against the walls, her cheeks hot, her body hotter. Her cunt was a mess of little girl arousal and dripping cum. Bells had got her good, and if she was thinking straight, she would have known Lyra was nearly in heat and very fertile, but those thoughts never crossed Bells’ lustful thoughts, but an idea came to her. 
“Come here.” Bells commanded Timothy. 
Timothy sleepily dropped his towel and walked to Bells. A sleepy, half drunk kind of walk, his eyes half lidded. 
“Good boy.’ She cooed. ‘Now kneel.”
Timothy did as commanded. He knelt in front of her, mere inches from Lyra’s heated and messy cunt; while looking up at Bells expectantly.
Bells smiled wickedly, grabbed Timothy roughly by the back of the head, and shoved his face into Lyra’s cum soaked child pussy; making the squirrel quiver and dance in place. His nose squished between those wet, little folds, where it sank deep inside, smearing cum across his muzzle and whiskers. The smell hit him hard. Being a boy in early puberty, he was horny, constantly, and now, finally, he smelled a heavenly scent, arousal of the opposite sex, and the slight, tangy smell and flavour of little girl piss. So heavy were the pheromones that his cock twitched, stiffened fully, and splattered a shot of cum, and then another, and another, as a powerful orgasm made him squeak and jolt. 
It was Bells’ turn to blush now. She snorted with some sick and twisted sense of satisfaction. Of course this kid would be this pathetic. A little virgin mouse getting his first smell of cunt, albeit slightly used and muddled. It was almost endearing, perhaps, to experience such innocence, and to be the one to ruin it. 
Timothy was in heaven. These smells! The warmth! Even in his dreamy state, he took it in, gave himself to it as the last of his hands free orgasm emptied his balls. He couldn’t quite understand where he was or why he was there, but his body shivered and shook with pleasure. Every breath was like ambrosia. The familiar smell of pee stung his nostrils, so sickeningly sweet, yet, mixed with something else, the smell of a female, so strong and tantalizing, muddled by the familiar scent of cum. 
“Clean her.” Bells commanded. “Lick that pussy, you little pervert.” 
Those words wormed their way into Timothy’s mind, caressed him soothingly, and urged him to obey. He would have done so regardless of magic, but Bells would not take the risk of being caught. She kept his head pinned to that pussy and began to rub his face in it, smearing cum, arousal, and piss across his face; all while Timothy licked eagerly, getting his first taste of pussy. 
“Yes, that’s it...”
Lyra wiggled and danced on her toes. Her tail lifted, her legs spread, and she thrust her ass against Timothy’s face; her heated asshole practically kissing his forehead as his hot, wet tongue sank inside her. He licked her clean, every little bit of cum was eagerly and happily swallowed. He never once tried to pull away, nor could he, with Bells sadistically holding his face tight to her pussy.
So arousing was the scene, Bells herself was hard again, and began to plap her equine penis across Timothy’s cheek; against his ear, and when she could, she aimed her large urethra at his eye, to shoot her pre-cum across it. 
“Yeah, I can see why you like him.” Bells teased. “Such a pretty little boy, and so eager to please his superior officers.” 
Neither of the rodents answered. Bells just smiled and took it all in. All through puberty she held back, as if it were some military tradition to be as disciplined as possible, but now? She could only let her pedophilia nag at her mind for so long. Especially with naked kids so easily accessible. Besides, this was the last time she would be showering with Lyra, right? It was perfectly justifiable to the sheep. Timothy was a happy accident. 
Lyra was squirming now, her tail wiggling wildly, and her toes curling; finally, she came, hot and heavy, splattering fem-cum across Timothy’s face, amid chitters, squeaks, and moans, her eyes heavy and lust filled, her body a trembling mess. Timothy licked, kissed, and moaned into that underdeveloped pussy. He did well to open his muzzle wide, letting that sweet nectar fill his mouth. And when he was done there, while she was still squealing in orgasm, he kissed her cummy asshole. It flexed against his lips, but gave way to his tongue, that easily slipped past her tight rim. 
“Damn, kid...” Bells whistled. “I didn’t even ask you to do that. You really are a pervert.” 
Bells’ cock was growing soft as she spoke. The excitement wore off quickly once clarity came back to her mind. The scene was cute, and she watched with hunger as Timothy smooched, licked, and made out with Lyra’s asshole. As fun as it would be to make him wake up tongue deep inside her, she decided against it. She pulled him away from his feast, amid squeaks of displeasure from both rodents. 
“Yeah, yeah. You horny kids can fuck later.” 
And with that, Bells released them both. Timothy blinked and immediately tried to hide his twitching erection. Lyra shook her head and stood up with a stretch and let the warm shower wash over her once more. She sighed in pleasure, without knowing why she felt so good. 
“Okay, kids. Have fun. I’ll see you at chow, Ly.” 
Lyra wiped the water from her eyes and waved. “See you later, Bells. Thanks for the help.” 
Bells lifted a paw and casually waved over her shoulder, not daring to let either of the kids see her softening cock. 
Timothy was a blushing, stammering mess, trying to form words. Lyra noticed him quickly enough and smiled so brightly it made him relax. 
“Timothy!” She squeaked and pulled him into a hug. “When did you get here?” 
Timothy’s eyes widened. His hard cock slipped between her thighs and slid across her wet, little pussy, where it hugged his sensitive cock. “I... uh, don’t know?” Was all he could manage.
Lyra rolled her eyes. “Whatever, dork. Come on, you can brush my tail.” She pulled away, obliviously slicking his cock with her arousal. Timothy’s legs near buckled and his cock twitched and splattered a shot of pre-cum that coated Lyra’s ass. She wiggled her nose, but otherwise didn’t notice, at least he thought she didn’t.
Timothy took her brush and her tail, and began to comb it, all while begging his cock to soften. Every breath was torture. No matter what he did, his cock would not listen. These smells, all around him, clung to his fur, so familiar, yet distant in memory. He licked his lips. Cum? He was confused, He hadn’t sucked any of the boys off this morning, like he usually does, so that was weird! He shrugged. 
Lyra’s impossibly fluffy tail was easy enough to comb. Timothy held it one paw and stroked it with the other. From the bottom, nearest her ass, in little strokes, all the way up to the white tip. Repeated till smooth and soft, with no knots. 
“Are you okay?” Timothy asked, while combing the last of her fur. “That must have been pretty rough this morning.”
Lyra wiggled her nose. “I can handle it.” 
“I wasn’t asking if you can handle it.” 
“I’m okay, really.” 
Timothy sighed. “I worry, you know.”
Lyra felt so warm and fuzzy at his words. “I know.” She wiped soap from her face. “Want me to get your back?”
“Sure.” 
Timothy turned around and placed his back into the shower. Lyra lathered her hands with soap and began to run her fingers through his soft fur. For a kid, he really was muscular, and commanded a masculine presence that made her melt; even with a soft, femboyish ass like his that would have made him look like a little girl from behind, if not for the hefty nutsack that clearly hang from between his legs. 
“We should meet tonight.” Lyra began, as she took cautious looks around the showers. “The usual spot, okay?” 
Timothy blushed. “Tonight? Did you want to practice kissing again?” 
Now it was Lyra’s turn to blush! “N-no! I just want to talk.” 
Timothy seemed to deflate, but laughed it off. “Oh, okay, sure.” 
Lyra huffed and dragged her fingers through Timothy’s fur, using her claws as a comb. Really, she could use the comb, but she preferred this, it felt right. He was so soft and warm. 
“Don’t be late.” Lyra said. 
“I won’t, I promise.” 
Timothy was never late, nor would he want to miss out on alone time with his maybe girlfriend. All he could think about was the taste of her lips, the scent of her fur, and the warmth of her hugs. Typical boy, but he was full of love to the point of bursting, and she felt it, craved it with powerful desire. Even now, her hands combed lower, to the base of his tail, where she kneaded him softly, right at the top of his little ass, getting just a tease of how soft it really was. 
“Is there a ship you like the most? Something fast, powerful, and one that you are familiar with enough to fly on your own?”
Timothy didn’t think anything of the question, but it ignited his passion for spacecraft immediately.
“Oh, lots! I get a lot of training on all our weapon platforms. Keep this a secret, okay? But, there is this new ship that arrived a few months ago, state of the art, stealth interceptor tech, made for space witch covert ops! It’s a beautiful, warp capable, first-strike warship! It even has a six cylinder rotary cannon spanning the entire length of the ship! Close air-support, anti war engine round-”
“Okay, okay!” Lyra’s head was spinning. “It sounds very impressive.” 
“It’s the best of the best. I wish I could take you for a ride, but I only got to fly it early because my instructor gave me private lessons...” Timothy blushed at that. “I-I was just lucky, is all.” 
Lyra lifted a brow, but did not pry into that. “What dock is it in?” 
“Hanger 51. Don’t be seen poking around that. Trust me. The ship is top secret. I shouldn’t have told you, I think.” 
Lyra fell silent into thought, muttering to herself. “Hmm, 51... I can do it.” 
“Do what?” Timothy asked. 
“Nothing.” Lyra squeaked. “Come on,” She turned the shower off and shook herself dry. “Let’s go for chow.” 
Timothy stretched, his uncut cock soft and dripping with water, in full view for Lyra to oogle for a moment. 
“Where’d my towel go?” Timothy scanned the bars, then the floor, and saw it floating in a puddle far away. “How?” 
Lyra handed him her own towel. “Be more careful, squeaks.” 
Timothy smiled. “Thanks.”
The walk to the cafeteria was uneventful. Timothy and Lyra walked side by side, through the crowds of cadets, officers, and enlisted personnel. The room was alive with the chatter of hundreds of voices, the clattering of trays and silverware, and the PA system that constantly churned out orders and summons. No one even bothered looking their way, for Lyra was finally dressed properly in her loincloth, and Timothy in his skin tight flight suit. 
“They really should change the menu once in a while...” Timothy grumbled, as a cafeteria worker spooned a large portion of mash to his trey, followed by beans, and a biscuit. 
“I like it.” Lyra hummed. “Double portion please.” 
The cafeteria worker, a rough looking middle aged Lynx gave the little girl a wink and an extra scoop. He always treated her good. 
“You need all the energy you can get.” Timothy squeaked. “I’m sure magic takes a lot out of you.” 
“It does, but I can handle it.”
“You seem to handle everything.” Timothy said, as he slid into a seat.
Lyra sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m a tough kid, squeaks. Gotta be strong to be a space witch.”
Timothy took a bite of his food and mumbled. “I just wish we could be kids for once.”
Lyra’s heart ached at those words. She looked to Timothy, to his beautiful fur, whiskers, and blue eyes. “We will, I promise.”
“Hiding from the Military Police at night is going to get harder.” 
“I don’t mean like that.”
“What do you have in mind? Surely, they’ll get wise to us meeting up.”
“I have a few ideas. You just have to trust me when the time comes, okay? Will you follow me no matter what?”
Timothy raised a brow. ‘You’re getting really serious, Ly...’
“This is serious. I need you to promise me.”
“Okay, okay. I promise I will follow you no matter what.”
Lyra held up her pinky and offered it to Timothy. “Pinky swear.”
Timothy smiled and wrapped his pinky around hers. “Pinky swear. I will follow you to the abyss.” 
“So dramatic!” Lyra giggled. “A chivalrous mouse.”
“Your knight in shining armour!” Timothy puffed out his chest, to look big and strong, but only managed to slop food all over his whiskers and flight suit. “Darn...”
Lyra laughed. “My knight, indeed.” She reached over and helped wipe him clean, like a dotting house wife. 
“I can get it...” 
“I know.” Lyra wiped his muzzle clean and tidied up his flight suit. “Turn your head,” Timothy did as he was told, now snout to snout, where Lyra leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss to his lips. “There. A kiss for my knight.”
Timothy blushed so hotly he thought he would melt! She kissed him, right in front of everyone! Her lips were so soft, and her scent was so comforting. He stared into her beautiful, emerald green eyes, and was lost for what seemed like an eternity, but all good things must come to an end. The bugle sounded and the day would begin proper. 
“Come on, squeaks.” Lyra got up with her empty tray. “I’ll walk you to your hanger.” 
“Sure! Maybe you’ll see me flying that ship today.” 
Lyra smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll see you fly it soon enough.”
The kids walked together, through the crowded halls, and out to the tarmac, where Timothy said his goodbyes; leaving Lyra to walk back to base alone. She took the long way, in the blind spots of the cameras. To her special spot, a place only she can reach with her powers. She took a quick look around before melting into the shadows. 
The strange, inky blackness of her magic slithered across the metallic floors, up the wall, and squished between a small crack. Deep inside the mechanical reaches of the base, where wire and metal and electricity ruled, there was a space just big enough for two kids. Scraps of metal littered the floor, wires hung and dangled from pipes on the ceiling, and cutlery, batteries, and other stolen property lined the walls. 
Lyra materialized and immediately ducked to fit in the small space. She clambered about, over the cluttered mess, to the wall of batteries and scrap wire. A device sat upon a large pipe. It was unfinished, half wrapped in duct tape, with wires connected directly to the metal shaft of a knife. She grabbed a powerful battery and attached it to the knife, without connecting the wires, and then set it to the side. 
A stack of forgery documents were stacked neatly in a corner. Some were of the civilian kind. Identification, ship registry, all pointing back to some backwater planet. Lyra worked diligently to glue and piece these documents together, one for her, one for Timothy. Another document gave her clearance to the flight hangers. Getting his picture was easy, but these documents, well, she owed Bells a lot.   
Everything was ready. Tonight, she would finally be free.