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Chapter Text

The estrous cycle, also colloquially known as ‘heat’. 

Defined scientifically, it referred to the recurring physiological changes occurring in the reproductive system of a female mammal in response to hormone fluctuations. Since Thirens belonged to that subclass in the Animal Kingdom, experiencing heat was a fundamental biological drive—one that wasn't unfamiliar to female members of the species past a certain age. 

As a Rabbit Thiren girl in her teens, this wasn’t Alice’s first rodeo with the seasonal stirrings of desire in her body. In all her seventeen years, she was proud to say she had never once let those dastardly urges tarnish the good name of Thymefield. Alice took pride in her discipline. To her, it wasn’t just a motto at the academy she attended—it was a way of life. Discipline naturally led to elegance, and elegance in itself was the defining hallmark of the Thymefield family. 

While most Thirens in her cohort took the opportunity to call in sick during one of their heat cycles—justifiably, since it was a recognized medical condition—Alice did not count herself among those shirking delinquents. In fact, one of her proudest accomplishments was maintaining a perfect attendance record at school. 

After all, she hailed from one of the noblest houses from New Eridu. As a bonafide blue blood, the concept of noblesse oblige came naturally to her. Elegance, perfection, and responsibility—these were the three principles that anchored her to her core. As the scion of a noble house, she was all too aware of the ever-watchful, judgmental eyes tracking her every move, every word she spoke. Alice couldn’t help it. After all, she’d been raised this way since birth. Since childhood, her tutors had drilled into her mind that she was to serve as a shining beacon for the common citizenry to emulate.  

As such, even at the height of her seasonal heat cycles, an outside observer would notice no discernible change in her appearance or demeanor. Between the liberal use of wet wipes, deft application of high-quality fragrances and timely private interventions at home to keep her urges in check, Alice managed to easily tame the libido of her Rabbit Thiren nature—one that was notorious even among other Thirens — and remain functional in her daily life. 

However, that was all before she found herself trapped by a vicious bully. When her phone buzzed on the bedside table with an incoming text, Alice couldn’t fully suppress the shiver of fear that ran down her spine. 

Usually, a model student like her prided herself on responding promptly to texts and emails. She waited a few minutes before replying to this particular sender. It might have been petty, but to Alice, it was the only way she could display her defiance. When she flipped open her clamshell phone, the twisting in her stomach only worsened. Alice already knew who it was—but a small part of her still held onto a deluded hope. 

‘Morning, Princess. How’s my little bunny whore doing?’ 

Alice could hear the sardonic lilt in Jacqueline’s voice, even through the cold text on the screen. The smiley emoji at the end didn’t help—if anything, it only amplified the sarcasm. Her fingers must have lingered too long on the keypad, because moments later, a follow-up message appeared—brimming with barely concealed spite. 

‘Hey bitch, what’s taking so long for you to reply? Don’t forget I can see the blue checkmarks, you know?’  

Crude, vulgar words spilled across the screen. If anyone at school saw this, they wouldn’t believe their eyes at seeing their nominally well-mannered sorority president act like this. But everyone revealed their true nature behind the safety of a digital screen, Alice supposed. 

‘I’m up. I was just getting ready for school.’ 

Alice kept her reply and subsequent explanation brief. From her previous experience dealing with this monster wearing human skin, she knew better than to give the other girl an excuse to escalate the situation. 

Obviously, she left out the part where she woke up early to comfort herself. From experience, Alice knew that when she went into heat, to stay functional in public, it was best to satisfy those urges regularly, early, and often—especially in the morning before heading off to school. 

‘Heeeeeeh? Is that so? I figured a stuck-up aristocrat like you would have your servants dress you, just like the feckless little doll you are.’ 

‘They stopped doing that once I was no longer a child. I’m more than capable of dressing myself.’ 

Alice sent the message before she could stop herself. She couldn’t help but wince. Without meaning to, her reply carried more bite than she intended. For the next few agonizing moments, Alice could only stare forlornly at her phone, watching the dreaded “recipient is typing...” message appear on the screen.  

As the next messages came through, the knot in her stomach tightened until she felt like she might unravel at the seams. 

‘Looks like someone’s acting like a little cunt today, huh? I was actually going to let you have an easy, unsupervised day off. I've got errands to run for the Professor, after all. But you know what? That’s not happening anymore. With all the sass you’ve been throwing my way, I’m starting to think I’ve been way too nice to you lately.’ 

Alice swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Jacqueline wasn’t planning on coming to school today? She caught herself before the swear words slipped out under her breath.  

Good going Alice, you could have had an entire day of peace for once and you had to mhn it up. 

‘Tell you what, that skirt of yours is an eyesore. Grab yourself a pair of scissors and chop 20 centimeters off the hemline.’ 

Her accursed asymmetrical eyes widened. Twenty centimeters!? It was bad enough having to trim that much off a regular knee-length skirt, but because she needed the freedom of movement for fencing, she wore a skirt closer to a mini, one that almost ran down to mid-thigh. 

Her fingers instantly hammered out a reply before her mind could catch up. 

‘No way! You’re insane!’ 

‘25 centimeters.’ 

‘Wait wait wait let's talk about this please I’m sorry for my earlier tone okay! I’m sorry! Please don’t do this!’ 

She was starting to hyperventilate, her breaths short and shallow. Her eyes burned with heat. Crying and blubbering like this felt humiliating, but at that moment, her mind refused to think clearly. 

‘30 centimeters.’ 

The squeal she let out was loud enough to make the maid waiting outside hammer on her bedroom door. 

“Ojou-sama!? Are you alright in there? Thymefield Ojou-sama!?” One of her maids called out from behind the ornate door.  

“N-Nothing! Just stubbed my toe, that’s all, ahaha!” Alice quickly yelped out as she scrambled for her sewing kit. 

‘Okay, okay! I got it! Doing it right now!!!’  

She texted back as she found the little pair of stainless-steel scissors in the box. 

‘Good. And don’t you even think about cheating your way out of this. Though, I guess that wouldn’t even cross the mind of a goody-two-shoes like you. Send me a photo for proof once you’re done. Now get to it, little snippy bunny.’ 

As she measured the required length with a ruler, the butterflies in her tummy sank even further, watching the marking line creep upward as if it would never stop. By the time it ended at the large red ‘30’ mark, Alice could swear the thing leftover material barely constituted a belt, much less a skirt. 

With a heavy heart, she began her accursed task. Alice drew in a sharp breath as she saw how uneven her cuts had become. She tried her best—truly she did—using the ruler to attempt to guide her hand and keep the line straight. But without a sewing machine or proper tools, the effort was doomed from the start. 

When she was finally done, it took everything she had to not break out in tears. Those pleats were perfect, their lines they drew upon her skirt utterly symmetrical. And here she was, forced to destroy such symmetry with her own hands. To Alice, it felt akin to murdering a beloved pet in cold blood. 

Her hands, already trembling with nerves, weren’t helped by the frequent buzzing of her phone. 

‘As for your underwear... Hm, I think today feels like a good day for black, wouldn’t you say?’ 

She could feel Jacqueline’s mockery in every rhetorical question. It wasn’t like Alice had a choice anyway. All she could do was respond back with quiet, reluctant affirmation. Once she finished the makeshift alterations to her school uniform, she laid out her skirt along with the undergarments Jacqueline had demanded on her bed, arranging everything as symmetrically as possible before snapping a photo of her outfit for the day, just as instructed.  

Even next to the scrappy pieces of racy black lingerie—the forced makeover from that meanie who made her toss out all her old underwear, including her favorite pair with carrot prints! —her modified skirt looked horrifically tiny. 

The worst part was that, beneath the crushing weight of her anxiety, a familiar heat ignited deep in her lower abdomen. Even now, she could feel how her mind strained against the rapid beating of her heart. Of all days, it had to be today, Alice thought forlornly.  

A day when her estrus cycle was at its peak.  

Her phone buzzed again. 

‘Put it on and show me how it looks.’ 

Mechanically, like a robot, Alice forced her limbs to comply. Unlike her usual plain bras, the one Jacqueline had forced her to buy fastened at the front instead of the back. It was a small change but knowing these provocative pieces that passed for underclothes were designed to be easily removed by someone else filled her with intense humiliation. It was a shame that gnawed away at her, making her feel like a naughty girl instead of a model student. The worst part was that wearing the lingerie kept those shameful feelings constantly flooding her mind. It wasn’t something she could just ignore. On a normal day, she hardly gave her bra, panties, or even stockings a passing thought—but wearing lingerie was like flipping a switch in her head. 

She then lifted a pale-skinned foot, one after the other as she pulled the black lacy thong up. She breathed a sigh of relief, relishing the rare moment of dryness. She knew that sensation wouldn’t last for long. The action found itself repeated, except with sleek, toned legs instead of her feet as she rolled the black pantyhose up. The bed creaked as she raised her legs higher to aid in wearing them. Her school blouse, modified skirt, belt and finally her boots came on in that following order. 

As she stood in front of her dressing mirror with her phone in hand, Alice couldn’t help but blush, her face turning a bright, tomato red. Her earlier suspicions had been correct. After the alterations she’d performed on her skirt, the hemline of it was ridiculously, and she meant *ridiculously* short. Before, her usual school skirt had a hemline of about forty-five centimeters, but after removing a full thirty centimeters of polyester, only a scant fifteen centimeters remained.  

Theoretically, Alice had already worked out the result in her head—but seeing it reflected in the mirror was an entirely different matter. How could she describe it? She had already called it ridiculously short, but even that didn’t seem to do the skirt justice. 

It almost offered no cover at all. After tucking in her blouse and clicking on her belt, the only way it even covered her thong was if she stood up straight and still. Bending forward, even slightly, made it ride up and expose her butt, and not just that! Even the simple act of standing still with her feet parted any wider than the symmetrical outline of her hip bones would expose the crotch of her thong, even if only by a small amount. Turning around to check on her supple rear, she noted with horror how the hem left almost one-fifth of her lower glute peeking out. Not to mention, it wasn’t as if she could tug her skirt to try alleviating that fact. The entire time, her phone in her hand continued recording her reflection in the mirror, as if she was mimicking one of those naughty OnlyBoo tramps posting their lewds on the Inter-Knot network to fish for Dennies. 

If she tugged the front of her skirt down to try and cover her panties, that would only expose more of her stockinged butt. 

If she did the reverse and tugged at the back instead, that would leave her thong greeting the world. 

On both ends, Alice found herself cornered into a dead end.  

Oh gosh nabbit... 

This... wasn’t... going... to... cover... anything... at... all... 

‘Kyahahaha! That’s your outfit for today. And don’t you dare sneak another skirt to school to change there. I might not be there myself, but I’ve eyes and ears all over the school. If I find out, you’re dead bunny meat. You wouldn’t want those photos released to the entirety of New Eridu, do you? Imagine how grandpa Thymefield would react if he saw them from his hospital bed. Maybe the poor thing will have a heart attack and be finally put out of his misery, LOL. Well, it won’t be such a bad thing, considering he can join Papa Thymefield in the afterlife, AHAHAHA!’ 

Something in her heart suddenly flared. Alice had thought she was immune by now to the constant barrage of insults the other girl hurled at her—but dragging her dear, departed father and her grandfather into it was too much, even for her. The anger burned hot and bright, like a white star. It clouded her judgment, and for the first time, Alice nearly saw red. 

She gripped her phone so tightly it felt like it might snap from her enhanced Thiren strength. In fact, the glass screen already had spiderweb cracks running through the edges. With trembling fingers, she typed. Letters became words, words became sentences. Her next reply came straight from the heart. 

‘You... you... deep down, I’ve always held the hope that there was something good inside you. I thought that maybe you were misunderstood, or that I’d offended you somehow to have you hate me so much. But I see now Jacqueline, that not only are you a heartless bully at your core, but you are... you are... YOU’RE AN IRREDEEMABLE MEANIE!’ 

Alice gasped for breath, the sheer catharsis of releasing her emotions feeling as intense as physical exertion. She couldn’t deny how good it felt to let everything out so wildly—even if it was an undisciplined outburst, completely devoid of the elegance so characteristic of the Thymefield family. 

And then, like all undisciplined outbursts, the reality soon quickly sat in. This went beyond anything she’d told Jacqueline up to this point. Even the messaging app on her phone seemed to have come to a dead stop. There wasn’t even a notification of typing from the other party. For one of the rare times in her life, Alice felt true fear. But as the seconds stretched into minutes, that fear slowly began to shift into something resembling hope. It was faint, more like embers than a real flame, but it was something. 

Had she really done it? Had she actually shocked—perhaps even cowed—Jacqueline into silence with that display of resilience and the unmistakable elegance of her Thymefield blood? 

Was this finally the beginning of the end of her nightmare? The one that had all begun with a simple trick by Jacqueline, who had fooled her into vandalizing the bust of Professor Benini? The one prank which’d landed her in this ordeal to begin with? 

Like Icarus of ancient legend, Alice found herself soaring too close to the sun before it all crashed down upon her. 

‘That reminds me. It’s one of your mating cycles today, isn’t it? Four pills. Good luck with that, you stupid Thiren slut 😊' 

Attached to the message was a photo of a sadistically grinning Jacqueline, a twisted coil of her midnight blue hair falling unevenly between her eyes, creating a disgusting asymmetrical look. In the foreground, a computer screen displayed the Inter-Knot network forum, where she was preparing a post with all of her lurid, compromising pictures—evidence of everything she’d been forced to do up to this point—attached. The only thing standing between Alice and the complete and utter destruction of her social life was a single, simple click. 

Her mind came to a complete, dead stop. Simply utterly frozen. Devoid of any direction from her brain, her nervous system let the phone slip from her hands and fall to the ground. If it hadn’t been for the plush carpet cushioning its fall, it probably would have broke.  

And just like that, every iota of resistance in her body crumbled. 

As she uncapped the nondescript pill jar hidden in a secret compartment of her desk, Alice couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her stomach while pouring out four of the pink, heart-shaped tablets exactly as instructed. 

They were Jacqueline’s secret weapon. Aphrodisiacs illicitly manufactured by Porcelumex using untested substances extracted from the Hollows. Unlike her family, who emphasized safe and ethical methods in their research, these pills were anything but. Just one tablet was powerful enough to act as a weapons-grade drug, driving both humans and Thirens into a frenzied state. Thanks to her Thiren biology, Alice had learned the hard way that the effects on her were nearly twice as strong as they were on a human. She didn’t know how Jacqueline had managed to get her hands on them—perhaps through some connection within TOPs. 

Jacqueline had been making her take them every morning from the very start of her nightmare. She began with one pill a day, but recently, her dose had been increased to two.  

One pill was enough to keep her on edge all day. Two left her crotch leaking heavily, not to mention forcing her to constantly shake her head at school just to clear her blurred vision and mushy thoughts. She had no idea how her body would react to the pills in combination with her heat—up to now, she’d somehow managed to avoid finding out. 

It seemed that she was about to find out. She felt like she was about to break apart, or burst into tears. Alice hated it when she took these pills, they muddled her mind and made it difficult to think. Now she was about to take four of these mhn-ed pills while her body was busy trying to cope with the stirrings induced by her Thiren biology. 

She made sure to record her usual video of herself swallowing the pills for Jacqueline, even going so far as to lift her tongue to prove she wasn’t hiding a single one. There was no point in trying to stick a finger down her throat afterward—the heart-shaped tablets dissolved and entered her bloodstream almost instantly. 

And she had to spend an entire day at school like this. It was bad enough in this too-tiny skirt and wearing naughty lingerie under her uniform. 

All the while in heat and drugged up to her fluffy ears on aphrodisiacs. 

Her body temperature ramped up instantly.  

Alice coughed as her heart rate spiked to an almost painful intensity, pounding hard enough to make her chest ache and her breath catch in her throat. Strange, animalistic noises left her larynx as she desperately tried to wheeze for air. The twin nubs on her bountiful chest, along with the little sensitive nub down below stiffened, to remain so almost permanently. She could feel the walls of her insides literally weep sticky fluid as they squeezed, only to find empty air.  

Her blood felt like it was literally boiling in her veins. Steaming, melting, dissolving away on the inside. 

It reminded her of her first heat as a young girl—inexperienced at that time, she’d been utterly non-functional when her first cycle slammed into her with all the subtlety of a cable car. She’d been reduced to rolling restlessly in bed and growling out animalistic cries. She had even tried to tackle the maid who found her, driven by pure instinct and sheer need as she tried to entice the bewildered woman into mounting her. Back then, she’d still had a full retinue of staff and doctors to support her. Over time, Alice had learned the discipline to keep herself in check—but the memory lingered, raw and humbling.  

Now, she was about to head to school in a state that made that earlier incident feel like nothing more than a mild inconvenience by comparison. 

Right as the pink fog flooded her mind and warped her entire brain to mush, distantly, the last shards of the persona known as ‘Alice Thymefield’ belatedly realized that her life as she knew it was utterly over. The only difference was when and how. 

Even as the overwhelming tide threatened to drown out the last echoes of her identity, she clung—desperately, by her fingernails—to the final, the absolute very last, fraying thread of her sanity. The only thing keeping her from slipping completely was the memory of her late father’s shining smile, glowing bright in her mind like a beacon through the chaos. 

‘A Thymefield always endures, sweetheart. We do the right thing, even when the right thing doesn’t make sense. Alice, you’ll grow up to be a good person, I’m sure of it.’ 

‘Right things don’t make sense?’ 

“Haha, you’ll get it when you grow older.’ 

Still, it was a constant fight, and it wasn’t something she could keep up forever. The desire, the need, the sheer want was so intense it almost hurt. In fact, it hurt so much it looped right back around into degenerate pleasure. 

Not to mention there was also one small problem from keeping her father so strongly in the forefront of her mind to anchor her sanity. 

“Dadddyyyyyy...” Alice whimpered out even as she stood there flooding her fresh panties with slick. She knew it was wrong, but the desire was so rampant in her body it associated every thought in her mind with sex. It felt so utterly wrong—but perhaps there was some truth to the old saying that every daughter wishes her first boyfriend to be like her father. After all, a father was the first man in every girl's life. Naturally, he served as the benchmark for all subsequent men that followed.

She tried to text Jacqueline one last time, begging for a day off and promising to make it up to her in another way. But the automated response she received was so morbid, it nearly made her laugh. 

‘This number is not in use. Please try again later.’ 

Jacqueline had blocked her. And even though she was her tormentor, the sudden, total loss of contact—especially with the terrifying material she still held over her—made Alice’s head pound so fiercely that stars nearly danced in her vision. Now, she had no idea what the mean girl was up to. For all she knew, she could be releasing her photos on the Inter-Knot right now! Jacqueline might have been her bully, but with the ability to keep in touch with her, Alice still held a measure of hope that things would turn out alright in the end.  

Now, everything seemed lost. She had nothing symmetrical to anchor herself on. From here on out, everything was uncharted territory.  

Just a little, she let the hovering despair into the castle that had once been her heart.  

She gave in. 

And just like that, Alice Thymefield was no more. Or more precisely, almost a third of her. Where Ego retreated, Id and Super-ego stepped forth to fill the empty void.  

“Ojou-sama, are you ready?” A kindly voice inquired from outside her room. 

Alice blinked. 

She must have been zoning out again. 

What was she thinking? For a moment there, she was somehow seriously considering ruining her perfect attendance record! That couldn’t do! Not to mention, she was about to be late for school! Oh gosh, what would people think if the Thymefield heiress showed up late to school one day? 

Her knees almost buckled when she took a step forward. Her large chest felt fuller than they usually were, straining against their lace prison and pressing hard against her blouse as if they wished to burst free. Her stiff nipples too, scraped themselves against her bra whenever she moved.  Down below was no better, with every step her clit found itself grinding against the front panel of her thong. The surges of pleasure were making her insides contract and as a result, cause her pussy to constantly sputter like the exhaust pipe of a vehicle. With each step she took the spool of heat in her womb coiled tauter, until inevitably the cord itself snapped in a wave of sticky, explosive release. For some reason, Alice didn’t find that thought as worrying as it should. Not that she had much running through her mind to begin with. 

Even the mere act of walking had turned into something scandalously pleasurable. By the time she stepped out of her room, her needy quim was freely, not to mention heavily leaking all over the insides of her thong. Already, her thong felt warm, sticky and sodden with her bunny slut juices. Her school day ran from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m.—eight whole hours like this. A full quarter of the day.  She hadn’t even started her day and already her panties felt as wet as if she’d spent hours in heat in them!  

With her thong already as heavily stained as they currently were. A vague part of her mind wondered how she was going to survive the day like this. 

A loud, scandalized gasp broken through her thoughts. “Ojou-sama, your uniform! It’s damaged!” One of her maids looked like she was about to faint. “Let me get you a replacement at once!” 

Her uniform...? She spent a few moments puzzling over what the maid could have meant—until a light, airy sensation against her legs reminded her. The throbbing of her core and her heartbeat pounding in her head was making it hard to think. 

Oh yes, Alice recalled as she glanced down. As expected, the high-waisted tiny micro-skirt (more like a scrap of fabric wrapped around her waist) only made the most perfunctory of efforts to stop her from exposing herself. Even that effort found itself instantly ruined by walking alone; thanks to the pleated, lightweight fabric, her skirt twirled and floated with even the slightest breeze— exposing her panties to the world.  

The maid was right; it was pretty embarrassing but what other choice she had? If she didn’t do what her bully demanded, the Thymefield name would be ruined for the rest of eternity! Firstly, she would need to summon up her reason and give her an answer befitting the eldest daughter of the Thymefield, for in the Thymefield code of conduct, even lies are treated with as much elegance as the truth. 

Easy! 

Alice swallowed. “T-T-The school has a new updated dress code so I t-t-thought to try out a new style for once. A-A-Apparently this is the new craze among girls my age these days so I wanted to show everyone in class that as a member of the Thymefield family, I do not come across as out of touch!”  

Nailed it! 

Or not. The steamy heat suffocating her body made it difficult to function. The sticky wetness below as well served as a constant reminder of how much her body was screaming for it. 

Judging by the maid’s dubious look, she clearly wasn’t convinced—but she held her tongue, mindful of the difference in their stations. Alice was sure that if her father was still alive, she would have gone straight to him to tell on her.  

Before she changed her mind, Alice quickly bounded off in the direction of the lobby. She hadn’t noticed it, but when she moved there existed a certain bounce in her hips that was obvious to anyone taking more than a moment to observe her. Even subconsciously, her body was craving for naughty things. 

By the time she reached the lobby, where the limousine waited to take her to school, Alice was already glassy-eyed and short of breath. Given her well-honed physique from years of fencing, it was obvious that none of her current exhaustion was physical. Sweat was already starting to matt her fluffy golden bangs to her forehead, and even in her uniform, Alice could feel sweat begin to build up in places like her cleavage and the undersides of her boobs along with her underarms.  

Her driver holding the door open for her rose an eyebrow. He looked about to say something, so to escape his painful gaze Alice dove into the back of the limousine as quickly as she could. When she felt her pleated skirt flutter, she couldn’t help but blush deeply, wondering if he’d caught a glimpse of her butt in the process, or even the little bunny tail she had above her tailbone. 

Even with the finest automobile technology ensuring the smoothest ride possible, there was always the faintest hint of a rumble beneath her—subtle, but impossible to ignore. The moment Alice stepped into the limo, she pressed the privacy mode button on the touchpad. Within seconds, hidden sound-dampening mechanisms kicked in. At the same time, the rear windows and the glass partition between the driver’s compartment and the back transformed into a dark, tinted black.  

As soon as the privacy notification flashed on the touchpad, Alice didn’t hesitate for a second before leaning back and allowing her stockinged legs to splay obscenely open in the back seat, the spacious interior allowing her long, sleek legs to stretch out to their full length.  

Alice couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh of honest relief in the process. Spreading her legs open and feeling the crotch seam of her stockings stretch and press against the gusset of her soaking wet thong into her quim felt right. Not even that, it felt good. It felt so good that her spine itself shivered as she felt herself continue to leak hot girly slime all over her thong.

Even before that, her stocking-covered thong-clad butt already found itself squishing directly against the leather seat, thanks to the shortness of her skirt. From the loud squelching noises her crotch made as it slid across the seat, Alice could already guess how soppy her thong must have been to make such lewd sounds. Well, to be honest, even without that, the lewd heavy musk wafting from her horny bunny pussy was already a dead giveaway. 

It didn’t help that the aphrodisiacs had fully taken hold by now, overwhelming her completely. There was no other way to describe it. Estrogen and powerful aphrodisiac drugs coursed through her bloodstream, combining to create a powerful cocktail that penetrated every inch of her body. Coated every cell even. Not a single, individual pore in her body was left untouched. With four pills in her system, Alice wouldn’t be surprised if her DNA itself was being rewritten by the corrupted Ether in them. It sure felt that way. 

Every second, every gap between each heartbeat even, Alice could feel her insides scream with need. A need for anything to fill her up. In absence of that, all her petulant quim could do was cry incessantly, endless rivulets of sticky feminine slime taking the place of tears. She’d morphed into a horny, sticky bunny in the purest sense. 

As the car rumbled onwards to its destination, Alice stared at the dark glass panel as a naughty thought cropped in her mind. Already, her hands were creeping ever so slightly to her panty-covered slit. The maddening pink fog clouding her mind stifled her thoughts. Wouldn’t it be better to deal with it here, rather than risk a disaster later in class?  

Alice bit her lip and checked her watch—8:30 a.m. Her first class, homeroom, would start at 9. That meant that if she missed this chance, there was no time left to satisfy her urges before then.  

[Select Alice’s choice] 

Choice A: Get herself off right here in the limousine.  

Choice B: Model students never touch themselves outside the confines of their bedrooms, no matter what! Endure it, Alice! 

Chapter Text

[Get herself off right here in the limousine.] 

Alice couldn't help but let out a small squeak when her hands brushed against her mound. Even through two layers of fabric, she could sense the steamy, musky heat radiating from her lower body. She didn’t need to hike up her skirt. The hemline was short enough that simply leaning back in her seat and stretching out her stockinged legs until the soles of her boots found themselves pressing against the divider wall of the limo was enough.  

She heard soft rustling noises she slid further back into her seat, the pose putting her panty-clad mound on display though her nylons. The luxurious, genuine leather seat reclined with her.  

Alice didn’t waste any time trying to navigate the restrictive barrier of her stockings. She didn’t possess the required patience nor the presence of mind for that. Both of her ugly asymmetrical pupils—one orange and the other red—dilated even further as she simply smashed herself silly against her mound. If anyone caught a glimpse of the state of her eyes, they would have easily been able to tell that she was high on something.  

As she continued working away at her quim, her free hand went to squeeze her swollen and needy boobs. Alice wasn't sure, but she could have sworn that her chest felt fuller. Not just that but they were sensitive as gosh as well—almost too much so even—considering even a prod could make gasps leak out from her lips.

In fact, all it took was one good squeeze on them for her to refresh the stains on her thong.

Even through the two layers of fabric that separated her pussy from her skin, Alice soon found out that even without inserting her fingers her mind was already quickly turning into a consistency resembling mashed potatoes. 

Loud, wet schlicking sounds echoed in the air. By now, her fingers were rapidly working away at her slit as she pressed, rubbed and even cheekily inserted a digit or two through her clothing. She could feel her clit though the layers even, a cute little protrusion that never failed to make her pussy twitch hotly and spew sweet bunny cream from its flooded depths whenever she touched it. 

The appearance of her thick white girlslime didn't surprise her. She was no stranger to being a creamy bunny during her cycles. After all, it was during this specific period of her heat when her body ovulated intensely. When her estrus cycle peaked like this, both of her ovaries on either side of her uterus went into a maniac overdrive.  

No, that wasn’t it. What surprised her was how utterly copious the amount was. From how liberally her sensitive hole expelled her reeking bunny cream constantly, it was as if her pussy had sprung a leak. It didn’t help that the motions her hands made while going at it only served to create even more of the lewd white stuff. And not only that, but it smeared it all over the place as well! It was then Alice let out an empty giggle as she overlaid an image of a milkmaid over her plunging fingers. That was what she was currently doing. Churning her sweet sweet bunny cream into butter!

And churn herself up she did.

In and out, in and out. With her slim middle finger, Alice forced both the gusset of her thong and the nylon of her stockings into the pouting hole of her creamy bunny pussy, before dragging them out all slathered in whitish girlslime before repeating the process over and over again.

With her quim still encased in lingerie like this, her bunny cream had nowhere else to go but to slather itself against the gusset of her thong, and even then, the skimpy cotton was clearly close to reaching its absorption limits. Her thong was so wet that when the part of her stockings under her hand encountered it, it couldn’t help but catch all her juice and turn damp as well. 

Well, judging by how much she was creaming up a storm. If Alice had ever wondered how the aphrodisiacs interacted with her estrus cycle, well, now she finally knew. She went from a sticky bunny to a creamy one. 

Stuck like this, Alice couldn’t help but indulge herself for a moment, her gaze drawn to the symmetry of her stockinged legs. But then a troubling thought crept in. She’d taken care to choose stockings she considered symmetrical enough, yet a part of her wanted to kick herself. 

She should had gone with thigh-highs instead! Just thinking about it—wouldn’t thigh-high socks, especially the kind with those elastic stay-up bands at the top, be even more symmetrical than any stocking ever could be?  

The thought unsettled her deeply. It clung to the back of her mind like an itch she couldn’t reach. It was persistent, looping over and over and over and over and over and over and over again 

All of a sudden the skin of her legs felt clammy. Like it didn’t belong to her. She could feel the accursed Asymmetry crawling up onto her, like a bug on her neck in summer. She wanted to tear these ugly ugly ugly stockings apart right there and then. How could she have been so blind? She needed to get out of this place and put herself in a pair of thigh-high socks asap 

She needed it She needed it She needed it She needed it it it 

So stupid so blind like everyone said she was nothing but a gosh mhned good-for-nothing empty headed bunny whor- 

That was it, she decided. At the very first opportunity, she’d throw out every last pair of those asymmetrical stockings and replace them all with perfectly symmetrical thigh-high socks instead! 

Alice watched—dilated pupils glassy in an empty haze—as whitish globs of her bunny cream began to pool and coat the front of her stockings. She couldn’t help but admire how pretty the contrast of bright white against dark black looked. Thanks to the prison provided by the nylon, her bunny cream had nowhere else to go but to find themselves smeared all over her pubic mound.  

Even through the pink clouds covering the sparseness of her empty mind, Alice still couldn’t stop the blush from appearing on her face when she saw how extremely obvious the patch of white bunny cream looked. This wasn’t something she could easily hide! But at the same time, seeing the evidence of her delinquent behavior—so far removed from a model student like herself—put so plainly on display for the entire world to see made a deep urge gnaw away at her insides.  

Faced with that urge, Alice could only schlick herself even harder. Her mind performed the mental equivalent of a howl as her fingers worked their magic. Gosh, it felt so good! She wanted to finish so badly she could taste it. Her loathed asymmetrical eyes couldn't help but keep darting furtive glances toward the black glass panel of the driver’s compartment. Oh gosh, oh gosh—oh golly gosh—what would her driver think if he saw her like this? To make matters worse, he was an old hand—hired back when her papa was still alive. He’d loyally served the Thymefield family for over a decade, and in a way, he was a living link between her and the dearest papa she’d lost.

And now here she was. The little girl he’d once watched grow up in the backseat of a car he drove. 

Completely debasing herself. 

The spike of degeneracy that lanced straight into her brain at that thought was nearly enough to push her over the edge.  

She was about to cum.  

She was about to cum.  

But even as the sloppy sounds filling the air reached a crescendo— 

She was about to cuuuuu-! 

—when a voice suddenly cut through the haze. 

“Now arriving at your destination, The Celestia School for Girls.” 

A cool, automated tone filled the limo’s cabin. The AI assistant, calm and indifferent, was announcing that she was about to arrive at school. 

Her Thiren body, already on the brink, reacted automatically. From a dark, savage place deep within her came a sound so deeply animalistic it bordered on feral—a chaotic blend of a wail, a choke, and a cry. For a moment, she'd reverted back to her uncivilized primal self, tossing aside all of her elegance in the process.

Alice stared vacantly into the distance, wide-eyed and wild, her blonde hair plastered to her face as her entire body went rigid. Even her fluffy rabbit ears stood perked upright. She could already feel the car slowing to a smooth glide. In minutes, maybe even less the driver would exit and open the door for her. 

She needed to stop. 

She had to stop. 

If she started again she was sure she wouldn't be able to stop. Not even if the door opened.

But she was so close. 

So.  

Mhn-ed.  

Close! 

[Select Alice’s choice] 

Choice A: Keep going and try to finish. 

Choice B: What was she thinking!? Doing such a dirty thing in the same spot where her papa once sat! Stop it, Alice, and clean up!

Chapter Text

[Keep going and try to finish.] 

The sheer need was too much. Too overwhelming. Too intense.  

Simply too much to bear. 

Her stockings were barring the way to her bunnypot, so she shamelessly ripped them open at the crotch seam. Alice didn’t even pause when the tearing sound of her nylons reached her fluffy ears. She’d always considered the vile assymetric seam in the center of her stockings an eyesore anyway.  

Even with her Thiren-enhanced dexterity, it took a few tries for her to find a solid grip, her fingers slipping multiple times due to all the slime that had collected on the nylon. 

“Hnngh, hyaaaa, fuuuuuua-!” 

The gust of cold, air-conditioned air against her overheated crotch was a startling relief—like a drowning individual at sea finally managing to break the surface to receive a desperate, life-saving breath. From the way the hot, musky smell filled her nostrils, exposing her panty-clad mound to the open air also carried the effect of releasing the naughty scents that had been building up in her stockings the entire time. Her gathered juices took this chance to drip onto the plush leather seat as well, leaving a slick trail on the seat whenever she shifted. 

Until now, the opaque white coating on her stockings had concealed the state of her thong—but now, Alice finally had the chance to take a good look at them.

Even without looking, she could feel how badly stained her thong was—but like the difference between a theoretical model and a practical experiment—seeing the results with her own eyes was another thing entirely. Seeing how creamy her thong had gotten sent a deep, burning shame pulsing through her veins. It was so deep that Alice couldn’t help but wince as her insides writhed at the evidence of her own naughtiness. 

All the rubbing earlier had smeared the globules of white across the front panel of her thong. Against the deep black fabric, the contrast was stark and utterly obvious. To make matters worse, the productive nature of her bunnypot meant the creamy stain wasn’t just widespread in simple diametric terms—it had a slight depth to it as well, like a layered saturation from how much of her bunny cream had accumulated. 

There was so much of the sticky, opaque fluid that it clung to her fingertips, stretching into delicate, milky threads that dangled teasingly with every movement of her hand. She didn’t even need to rub herself for it to happen. Even a light brush or graze was enough for it to catch on. 

When she pulled her thong aside to unlock access to her slit; she saw the same messy scene replay itself. Just like before, multiple strands formed, connecting to her mound as she pulled as they refused to snap away. Not only that, but the entire length of her gusset—not just the center—also found itself simply slathered in a thick layer of the off-white slime.  

She couldn’t help herself from toying with the gooey puddle. The way her bunny cream rolled and smeared beneath her finger ignited a deep spine-tingling humiliation within her as she recalled the Thymefield dinner table, where she’d greedily spread thick layers of lush, warm butter over the soft crumb of bread. As her fingernail traced a slow, sensuous line, a tight knot of anxiety grew in her chest watching it carve an infuriatingly asymmetrical path through the white ooze—only to unravel in relief moments later as the crevasse swiftly filled back with up, restoring the surface to a flawlessly symmetrical glaze of white.  

Even as she worked a finger into her soaked bunnypot and started to piston away, her mind was already contemplating the revelation she’d just discovered. Of course there would be those revolting, asymmetrical pockets of space and air leftover in her thong when she wore them. Without a fluid to serve as a lubricant, there would always be gaps—tiny, imperfect spaces that resisted contact. Why else would submersion exist as a method of achieving total surface coverage, of forcing out air and sealing every crevice? 

Stupid, so stupid! How hadn’t she seen it sooner? It was basic material science—something a model student like her should’ve understood without thinking. But no, her silly mhn-ed up bunny brain had let it slip right past her. And because of that, she’d been walking around all this time with a curse clinging to her body. That had to be it. That had to explain the streak of her recent bad luck. It explained everything. 

It all made sense now. 

But just then a solution to that problem struck her. If she intentionally kept her thong creamy from now on, every vile particle of asymmetry would be neatly coated to transform into a beautiful monument of symmetry! Even as she felt the car come to a stop, her fingers sped up to match the rambling thoughts in her mind. 

It was simple! From now on she’ll just have to make sure to keep her thong as hot and creamy as possible! At all times! To the point of compulsion if needed! She wouldn’t allow even a single nanometer of her thong to go defiled a second longer by the asymmetry she hated so much! It went without saying that like all forms of elegance and perfection, the pursuit of symmetry required sacrifice! If transforming herself into a creamy panty bunny was that sacrifice, then she would be more than happy to do so! 

Somewhere deep beneath the haze, a fragment of her subconscious still recognized how warped—how fundamentally twisted—this logic was. But that fragile spark of reason never stood a chance. Upon noticing its presence, the pink fog in her mind immediately clamped down on it like a vice, ruthlessly silencing it before it could even any further. 

If the pink fog had set the play in motion, then her sudden, sharp climax sealed the deal and finished off that distant voice.  

“Wha, wha-!? Munyaaaa-!”  

She squealed out loud as her greedy walls clamped down hard and squeezed on her digits; as if they were trying to milk them for all their worth. From her sputtering hole gushed forth a hot bunny cream, the same girly slime that’d been dominating most her thoughts up to this point.  

Alice felt herself growing intoxicated by the pleasure. Even her little fluffy tail twitched and wagged with excited delight—something she usually went to great lengths to hide from others. 

There was no way for Alice to know, but this was the final time she would ever enjoy an orgasm in private again. 

“Yesss, go away you icky asymmetryyyyyy! Go awayyyyy! Icky, yucky bad luck asymmetry be gone!”  

She couldn’t stop the babble of nonsensical words that spewed forth from her upper mouth, just as her lower mouth relentlessly spewed bubbly white slime that utterly reeked of her musk. Flooded by a rush of endorphins, her nervous system momentarily overloaded. A sharp jolt, like a sudden cramp, shot up her right leg, and Alice couldn’t help but slam her foot against the back of the driver’s seat as she reached her peak. She hated the motion she’d just made—not only because it lacked elegance, but because she’d kicked in an unappealing asymmetrical way.

“Ojou-sama!?” A sharp voice called out, followed by the limo lifting slightly as her driver stepped out of his cabin with equally brisk movements. 

Losing the support that kept her upright, Alice twisted her body sharply as she came. To her embarrassment, the automatic reclining seat responded, retracting forward along with her movement. The sudden jerk threw her off balance, and she found herself flung forward, her head smushed into her lap like a folded frog.  

That was the humiliating position she found herself in the instant the door swung open. The first sensation of the outside world was the warmth of the natural air brushing against her skin. She couldn’t see a thing in her field of view. Blonde hair fell like a curtain over her face, and with her nose pressed against her panty-clad mound, she existed in a dark hollow—each breath she took filled with the sharp scent of her own naughty bunny musk.  

Surprisingly it wasn’t as bad as she expected, although the smell was pretty thick, yet somehow, she didn’t find herself repulsed by it. In fact, the overwhelming, heady musk of her drooling quim was beginning to seep into her mind, blending with the hazy fog already drifting through her system. Alice had always known that Thiren pheromones were a bit stronger than those of humans, but this was the first time she’d ever gotten up close enough to actually smell herself. 

“Ojou-sama! Are you alright? Ojou-sama!” 

She tried to lift her head, to offer some reassurance to the worried voice calling out above her, but no matter how hard she willed it, her body refused to obey. Her body was still trembling from the aftershocks of the recent cramp, and her driver—poor thing—had probably mistaken it for a seizure. 

"Forgive me, Ojou-sama-"

“Hiiiiieeeeee-!” 

When a hand touched her shoulder, Alice let out a sharp shriek. She shuddered, her body still hypersensitive—her insides spasming as she found herself caught in the lingering waves of her afterglow. At the sound of her voice, the hand quickly withdrew, the weight on her shoulder vanishing at once. 

Deprived of her vision, Alice had no choice but to rely on her fluffy ears to guide her. She heard a rustle of a jacket collar. 

“This is Alpha,” her driver said—likely speaking into a concealed mic in his suit. 

A few seconds passed before a response crackled through. 

“Alpha, this is Homebase.” 

“Primary is down, possible seizure. Requesting immediate medical dispatch at my location.” 

“Understood. sending a recovery team your way now—” 

Alice didn’t catch the rest. She gave her head a shake, trying to dispel the fog clouding her thoughts. It didn’t help—so she tried again, this time more forcefully. Only on the third attempt did something resembling coherent thought begin to take shape.  

Wait—were they really going to strap her to a stretcher and rush her to a hospital? At this rate, it sure sounded like it! That simply wouldn’t do. After all, her perfect attendance record was on the line. Not just that, if Jacqueline found out she’d skipped school today, her life—not to mention the entire Thymefield family name—would be ruined forever. 

The face of her late papa flashed in her mind.  

She would not—could not—let that happen. For generations the Thymefields had maintained an impeccable record; the idea of it collapsing because of her weakness was utterly humiliating. A flush of renewed resolve surged through her veins, finally providing the key to break free from the sluggish chains holding her down. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Alice said, raising her head and doing her best to sound elegant— or at least as elegant as she could with sweat-matted hair and drug-dilated pupils. “I—I—I just felt a little woozy, so I was taking a nap, that’s all.” 

“Ojou-sama, please, I must humbly protest-” 

The driver looked unconvinced, so Alice willed herself to her unsteady feet and gave a shaky bow, thanking him for his service. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the slick puddle she’d left on the seat and couldn’t help but blush. Gosh, she should’ve cleaned it up earlier—what was she thinking? 

Pushing down the fresh surge of hot shame, Alice stuttered a quick goodbye and hurried past the main gate of her school.

The Celestia School for Girls. 

Often called Celestia Academy or simply “The Academy”, it was an all-female institution catering exclusively to the aristocratic elite of New Eridu. After the fall of the Old Capital and the subsequent loss of Helios Academy, Celestia rose to become the city’s premier academic institution, second only to its parent, High Ambitions Academy. As expected for such an exclusive establishment serving only the very top, its on-site campus facilities were unmatched, accompanied by a tuition fee as outrageous as its reputation. 

Any girl passing through these halls was expected—nay, demanded—to uphold the highest standards of good behavior, shaping them to turn out into elegant and refined maidens worthy of high society. 

Although as she stepped into the cool, climate-controlled hallways, Alice couldn’t help but think that, given her current state, those high standards definitely didn’t apply to her—at least not today. 

For one, she was still creaming her thong heavily. In fact, it was probably even worse than that. Between the drugs in her system and her heat, she was pretty much pumping her fertile bunny eggs directly into the gusset of her thong. Alice was pretty sure most girls in her school didn’t arrive with their panties all creamy and slopped through with their bunny honey, or their pupils dilated as if they had jabbed multiple syringes of narcotics into their arm. She was sweaty too. As such she couldn’t help but try to relish the cold air with elegance. 

The worst part was that she hadn’t thought to bring a spare. And with the school day just beginning, that meant she was stuck like this for nearly eight more hours. 

Eight whole hours. 

She couldn’t bring herself to imagine how utterly stained her thong would turn out at the end. 

Every step she took reinforced that fact. The way the sticky, slimy fabric stuck to her skin and squelched was a constant reminder to her bunny brain of her state. Her pleated skirt only made things harder. The hemline—already scandalously short—fluttered and twirled with every slightest movement. Gosh, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was flashing her panties—and freshly schlicked ones at that—with every other step!  

Alice hadn’t realized it yet, but with every foot she put forward—and even when she stood still—a subtle bounce had worked its way into her hips. Mimicking the hop of a bunny, said movement was a quiet signal to anyone observing that the rabbit Thiren part of her was starting to come out to play, even if she remained blissfully unaware how bad her heat was becoming. 

Not to mention, thanks to her earlier reckless behavior tearing her stockings, her entire crotch—along with the insides of her thighs—now lacked the cover her nylons provided, leaving her black thong completely exposed without even the thinnest of barriers to shield it. The cooling sensations of the juices that had gotten on her thighs also added to the multitude of factors threatening to snap the wound-up cable spooling ever tighter and hotter in her core. She’d just climaxed, but already her rabbit Thiren biology was making itself known with its infamously short—almost non-existent even— refractory period. 

Even if she managed to somehow avoid cumming outright, that didn’t stop her bunnypot from creaming itself silly into her thong. Again, the dang nabbit drugs saw to that.  

She wanted—desperately, more than anything—to duck into the restroom, to clean herself up or at least make herself somewhat presentable. But there was no time for that. Unless she wanted the Thymefield name associated with someone who skulked into class late, it simply wasn’t an option. She had no other choice but to head to class right away. 

Doing her best to ignore how her hard nipples rubbed against the confines of her uniform, or the way it made her bunnypot constantly twitch and sputter juices, Alice made her way to the staircases. Despite being a junior in Class 1-C, the name wasn’t at all indicative of its location—her classroom was all the way up on the third floor. Much like society itself, the school’s layout seemed deliberately designed to make the underclassmen suffer, leaving the poor juniors huffing and puffing up staircases while the seniors enjoyed the comfort of the lower levels. 

By the time she reached the staircase landing, she had to admit—her huffing and puffing had less to do with the climb and more with the heat causing her body to melt away on the inside. As she fixed her gaze on the seemingly endless steps stretching before her, a wave of dread washed over Alice.

Each individual step seemed to mock her. With her skirt as shockingly short as it was and no way to hide herself, the climb ahead felt like a hurdle she wasn’t sure she could survive.  

If anyone were to come up from behind her, she was sure that they’ll be able to look up her skirt! Maybe even take photos!  

That final thought at the end made her exhale hard through her nose. Her pupils didn't dilate, but only because they couldn't do so any further.  

Not to mention, climbing the stairs would force her to lift and spread her feet—a movement that sent a secret thrill through her drooling quim, though she wasn’t sure if stimulating herself like this just before class was such a good idea.  

Continuing that thought made her clench her stockinged toes inside her boots. Naturally, her insides coiled as well. Already, Alice could feel the stains on her thong refreshing. 

She glanced to the right, where the staff lift stood silent and tempting. Normally, the idea of breaking school rules to sneak a ride would have never cross the mind of a model student like her to begin with, but now, she wasn’t so sure.  

Also, the lift provided its own share of terrifying prospects on its own. The thought of being trapped inside that asymmetrical metal container—vulnerable and exposed if the doors opened before she reached her floor—made her already pounding heart tremble. It represented a loss of agency. A loss of her free will. The moment those doors closed, if anything untoward were to happen there would be no more choices for her, no place to maneuver or squeeze her cute bunny rear out! It was just her, the elevator wall behind her, and the people on the other side. 

And with the tight space, she was almost certain anyone nearby would be able to smell her. 

Alice bit her lip as she pondered her choices. She couldn’t afford to dwell on it. As it was, she already risked being late to class. She needed to decide now. 

[Select Alice’s choice] 

Choice A: Model students don’t break rules! Take the stairs to class. 

Choice B: Break the rules and ride the staff elevator. 

Chapter Text

[Take the stairs to class.] 

Alice squashed the thought before it had a chance to fully form. Take the staff elevator to class? She had no idea why the notion even surfaced. What would happen if she had gotten caught? What would people think if they saw the daughter of the Thymefield family sneaking around like some reckless delinquent, instead of the model student she always strove to be? Oh, if that happened, she was sure her reputation at school would be ruined. 

But as she took the first step up the stairs, she was swiftly made aware of the cost of upholding her precious code of elegance.  

“Uuuuu, oof-!”  

The bunny ears atop her head twitched upright as she fought to suppress the shiver of pleasure racing down her spine—along with the yelp that escaped her lips. To keep her movements symmetrical, she had no other choice but to shift her legs and feet in such a way that made the little slip she wore rub against her in all the right—or rather wrong—places. 

Emerging from its hood like a butterfly unfolding from its cocoon, the stiff little nub above her slit sent wicked shocks whenever it grinded against the hot bunny slime in her thong. Not just that, but it also had the effect of flaring her cute nostrils in anticipation as her traitorous bunnypot eagerly added another layer to the mess below. 

Immediately, Alice found herself needing to clutch the handrail for support. Pushing past the tight coil of heat in her core and stopping herself from dissolving into a puddle of melted bunny goo right there and then took more effort than she would’ve liked to admit. To top off her misery, beads of sweat traced slow rivulets down her face and along the curve of her neck. Even in the cool, air-conditioned air, Alice could feel the heat pulsing off her skin.  

Fortunately for her, the hallways were empty, giving her a fleeting chance to undo the top button of her blouse. The moment she loosened her blouse, a steamy hot rush of air brushed against her skin, carrying with it layers of heady musk, an intoxicating blend of her bunnysweat, soap and her favorite fragrance she liked to wear to school.  

She was sweating profusely. Alice was sure that left to its own devices, the naughty pheromones produced by her Thiren body would soon soak into her clothes until they started to smell. Encased in the tight confines of her school uniform, the heat of her body—and she wasn't referring to just her biological cycle—was so intense it felt like she was almost steaming away to mush under it all. 

That wouldn’t do. Taking advantage of the empty hallway, she slipped her fingers through the gap in her blouse, gently pinched the collar of her camisole, and blew a breath inside to coax some air circulation. The effort was akin to trying to bail out a sinking ship with a teaspoon, but at this point, every little bit counted. 

She left the top button undone to catch some cool air. It wasn’t anything scandalous—no cleavage on display on display—but it was still a noticeable break from the usual prim and proper uniform she always made sure to wear.  

But that wasn’t the real problem. No, the real problem was how the tight white fabric of her school blouse exposed the black bra she wore under it—impossible to hide thanks to the stark contrast of its color. Her sweat only made things worse. It turned the thin material subtly translucent, revealing more than she liked. From the damp feeling, she could tell that her bra had soaked up a good amount of her bunnysweat as well.  

The fact was, even if by some miracle everything went perfectly today, there was no way she could keep her choice of bra hidden from the rest of the school. The fact that it was a racy piece only added to the shame welling inside her.  

The lack of support from the lingerie she wore was another source of grief for her. Among her peers, her chest was considered on the bigger side—one of the largest in her school actually—and without the lift of an underwire or similar support, her breasts tended to shift in ways she found both distracting and obstructive whenever she moved. Naturally, the delicate brassiere she wore—designed purely for aesthetics—offered none of that support. 

That was why, even as one hand gripped the handrail for support, her other arm—still clutching her school bag—went to position themselves beneath her boobs to restrain them as she continued her ascent.  

Even as she felt the gentle weight of her soft chest resting on her arm, Alice couldn’t shake her worry about the hem of her skirt. She was acutely aware—more than she wanted to be—of her lower body, barely concealed by the most provocative of fabrics. She chalked it up to her inexperience with T-back style thongs, but she couldn’t deny the intense self-consciousness that prickled at her as she felt the naked skin of her bunny butt cheeks shake whenever she moved. Seriously, the hole at her rear was only covered by the thinnest of strips!  

Overwhelmed by the flood of sensations and thoughts, Alice forced her body to move mechanically, pushing herself onward like a robot. 

First, lift a foot and place it in front of the other. Symmetrically, always symmetrically, of course. 

Then, lower it on to the next step, shifting the center of gravity and use her toned center to carry her body upwards. 

Finally, go back to the first step and repeat the process until she reached the top. 

So far, so good. Her plan was working—well, almost, if one chose to ignore the squelching sound caused by the little bunny downward hump her hips performed after every step—just one small hiccup remained. 

“Mhnn... Muahhh...” 

First row of stairs. 

Every step she took made the thong dig into her butt and her slit. Already, she could feel her butt twitching from being rubbed by the string at the back. To make matters worse, the earlier masturbation she performed in the car had left her little lower lips down below—the minor ones—spread open. Without them acting as a protective shield, this left both of her holes—the one she used for peeing and the other she used for making babies—in direct contact with the gusset of her thong. 

“Hyan! No, no, no I-I can’t do it here, it’s too naughtyyy-”

Second row of stairs. 

To fix it, she’d have to slip her hand beneath her skirt, hook her fingers into the sticky fabric clinging to slit, and readjust it completely. Doing something like that would be fine in a private place. But out here, in the middle of school? She would have to wait for an opportunity to slip away to the restrooms. Until then, she had no choice but to endure her bunnypot grinding itself away on the gusset of her thong and turning it into a creamy mess. 

“Hiiieeeeeee-” 

Third row of stairs. 

When she reached the landing that marked the halfway point of the staircase, Alice couldn’t stop a soft, helpless whine from leaving her. Sweaty, flushed and glassy-eyed, she couldn’t help but hunch forward, hands desperately gripping the handrail to catch her breath. She hated herself for taking up such an asymmetrical pose. Her obscenely short, pleated skirt fluttered against her thighs. This school was meant to be a sacred place of learning, where good girls studied hard and blossomed into respectable members of society—yet here she was, wearing naughty lingerie under her uniform. 

Her breath hitched in her throat.  

Alice knew that the longer she stayed here, the more likely it was that someone would come up the stairs behind her—where they would most likely catch a full view up her skirt. She needed to keep moving or else- 

“Did you manage to roll the limited SSR last night?” 

“As if! My parents wouldn’t let me spend a single Denny on those types of games.” 

“Ugh, that sucks. But hey, that’s what reruns are for, right?” 

A pair of voices rose up behind her, chatting casually about the usual mundane topics—empty words with no real weight or meaning. Her spine immediately shot upright, legs snapping together as she froze in place, rigid and tense.  

For a few moments, her mind went completely blank—frozen in fear, unable to form a single coherent thought. But it wasn’t just the terror of being seen that unraveled her—it was the sudden halt in conversation behind her that did her in. The silence that followed was deafening, heavy with implication, and it might have been the one of the worst moments in her life. 

Some variation of Did they see? and It’s over looped endlessly in her mind. Anything more complex was simply beyond her. Her thoughts were simply too scrambled, too consumed by panic to process anything else. 

The two figures finally passed her after what felt like an eternity, ascending the stairs without so much as a glance in her direction. To her relief, Alice didn't recognize them. They weren't from her class at least. Only when they neared the top did their lingering giggles ignite a flutter of shame deep in her abdomen. 

“Hey, check it out. That’s the Thymefield girl I think.” 

“Uwah, what's with that skirt? Is she planning on meeting her boyfriend later or something? Yucks. Big yucks even.” 

“Who knows, but I think she’s not wearing anything underneath.” 

“Going commando!? No way! Gyaaaaaa! That’s so disgusting! Those rabbit Thirens really are the lowest, aren’t they? I'm gonna tell the rest about it! They aren’t going to believe their ears!” 

They saw her. 

They saw her. 

They saw her. 

The words echoed relentlessly through her mind, a haunting mantra she couldn't shake. No wonder Jacqueline had insisted on the thong with this skirt. From behind, the thin strip left little to the imagination—she wasn't even sure it covered her butt hole completely even—making it seem as though she wore nothing at all. 

Not to mention, her thong was in a dreadful state at the moment. Although the pair of girls had only managed to catch a glimpse of her butt and not the panty-clad front, the fact remained that not only had she just masturbated in them, thanks to her leaking bunnypot the entire thing had turned into an unsightly mess. There was so much of the whitish cream everywhere that they even showed on the outer front and crotch of her thong, a slimy white glaze that seemingly covered everything.  

The worst part of it all was that the stains on her thong were still warm and gooey fresh, with no sign of cooling off or drying at all. They simply didn’t have the chance to. Long before that could happen, her pussy would dash all hope by juicing up her thong with yet another fresh glaze of her girly cream at the slighest provocation. 

And thanks to how she’d ripped her stockings, that meant that at any given second, the full glory of her panty-covered mound was on the verge of being on complete and total display to the world. Accidentally exposing her panties was already bad enough, but the entire thing became that much infinitely worse considering how openly creamed they were. 

One misstep and everyone would be given a good look at her creamy panties. That image burned itself into her mind. Everyone would soon find out that the Alice Thymefield they once believed to be the epitome of elegance and symmetry was but in truth, nothing but the stereotype of rabbit Thirens personified. Shame and humiliation surged through her needy core, causing her whole body to tremble uncontrollably, as if seized by a sudden, overwhelming force. She began gasping for air as her mind spiraled out of control, racing a million miles an hour. 

How was she supposed to attend class like this with her panties so creamy? It was hopeless. Everyone was going to see her creamy panties for sure. Everyone would stare and jeer, her lowest moment forever immortalized by the countless phones raised to capture every humiliating detail. She would have nowhere to run after that. Nowhere to hide. It was going to be everywhere. Photos and recordings all over the Inter-Knot network. The entirety of the online space in New Eridu would be flooded with hashtags with her name on them. Everyone would see. Everyone would laugh. And everyone would use her image as nothing more than material for their own twisted pleasure at night. The Thymefield name would be torn to shreds overnight. Not just that, she would also set back the impression of rabbit Thirens in the public eye back for decades to come. For the rest of recorded history, she would be known as the nympho bunny who got off to creaming her panties at school in front of everyone, the mindless bunny whose lewd bunnypot creamed up a storm whenever she got even the slightest bit horny. It would be a horrific fate worse than death. How would she come to school the following day? Or the day after that, and after that, and after and after and after? Forget that. How was she even supposed to wake up every morning and function in a world where her most shameful, most humiliating places found itself forever saved on a combination of human memory and digital flash sticks? Her shameful self would be seared into every brain, every phone, every screen. Anyone would be able to replay the utter destruction of her life in full crystal clear ultra-high definition anytime they wanted. And then there would be the reaction online. The comments alone would hound her day after day. They would hunt her, stalk her, dox her, no peace, no mercy, always eyes, always whispers, she would have to live with utter humiliation burning away inside for the rest of her days. It would be endless. It would never stop. They would never let up. Not even a second. Even if by some miracle she didn't find herself outright expelled, she would never be able to find a job after graduting. All that tuition gone to waste. All of Daddy's hard earned money gone to waste. She would be trapped. Trapped in this asymmetrical nightmare forever. Maybe she could hide away in her room and live on the Thymefield family trust fund for the rest of her life as a recluse, but she doubted it. Her life as she knew it would be completely over. That was why she needed to stop herself before everyone in school saw how creamy her panties were. How utterly bunnyslopped she had turned them into. Even if she liked wearing creamy panties. Or else she would be known forever more as a creamy panty bunny slu-! 

The taut spool of heat in her core snapped. 

Her hideous asymmetrical eyes rolled into the back of her skull as she came. A strangled, breathless squeal tore from Alice’s throat as her knees buckled and flung themselves outwards beneath her, her body reacting before her mind could catch up, caught in the chaos of sensation and shame as it was.

Alice hadn’t realized it, but she had been frantically bouncing on her hips—her little tail going up and down as well—during her entire mental spiel. But now that she'd been made aware, the soreness of her large, barely supported chest informed her that her body had been going at it for a while. Consumed by a raw, aching hunger that threatened to overwhelm her, her body instinctively slipped back into its primal state.  

Before she knew it, she’d come apart and exploded at the seams; quite literally in mid-thought. If Alice still had any sense left, she’d know just how utterly, devastatingly humiliating something like that was. But there was none to be found at the moment, so she simply continued to climax like the bunny in heat she was. 

As she came with a downwards ramming motion, her legs splayed themselves in the most obscenely wide bowlegged pose they could. Inside her fencing boots, her nylon-clad toes clenched hard for dear life as torrential waves of hot bunny cream erupted from the interior of her dilating hole. Though the quantity of the white, reeking slime spewing out of her quim was shockingly immense, it wasn't the only thing that floored her.  

The pressure of it was intensely high as well, causing her to literally spray down the gusset of her thong into oblivion as she pumped jet after jet of her creamy juices—making sure she kept her spewing bunnypot smushed hard against it the entire time. The poor cotton did it best to absorb what it could, but its absorbency had already been pushed to the limit long before this. With her thong being pulled taut against her gushing slit by her bowlegged pose, there was simply nowhere else for her bunny cream to go other than to spill over from the sides of her gusset, past the leg holes of her thong, down her inner thighs and even through the front panel of her thong itself as it literally squeezed through the fabric weave like a sieve in long, drippy strands to pool on the ground under her. 

For a sweet, sweet moment, Alice stopped caring if anyone had been watching. All that mattered to her was the exquisite rush of endorphins flooding through her where they served to trigger the Ether corruption already present in her body from the drugs.

Creaming her panties in public felt good.

Sickening good even.

It felt so messed up that she could almost feel parts of her mind melt and drip out of her ears—as if it was being scraped away—just like how she ground her bunnypot silly into her thong. 

Her briefcase-style school bag clattered to the floor as she fought desperately to keep herself from collapsing. By the time her orgasm finished, there were indentations in the shape of her fingers left on the metal handrail. Not that she noticed. Honestly, she didn’t even notice the mess on the floor she’d made. Until the bunny OS in her brain finished rebooting, Alice could do nothing but remain standing there bowlegged—panting and drooling from both ends. She simply stood there relishing every last drop of her finish, tail happily wagging and all. Alice didn’t even care that her skirt had rode up to the point she was putting everything on display, frankly speaking, she cared for very little at the moment.  

Judging by the absence of screams in the background—or any reaction at all, really—Alice figured she’d somehow managed to escape detection. Given how hard it was to think straight right now, she couldn’t be sure, and honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to care much about it either. 

All her hazy mind could focus on was one clear goal, get to class before the bell rang. She couldn’t afford to be late—not now, not ever. From her very first day enrolled at this place, she’d never once been tardy, and she wasn’t about to break that streak today. As a Thymefield, she always prided her on her punctuality. 

As she restarted her climb, the security camera overhead went unnoticed.

Her boneless limbs felt like they were made of jelly. It took every ounce of strength left in her post-orgasm body to ascend the remaining stairs. At times, she was all but hauling herself along the handrail, like a mountain climber clinging to a rope on the final stretch to the summit. Every now and then her still-sensitive body shivered as she lightly climaxed from the movement, but even that wasn’t enough to stop her from reaching her destination. 

When she finally reached the top, she silently thanked the gods above for one small mercy, her class—1-C—was the closest one to the staircase. In her current state, Alice didn’t trust herself to make it to the other end of the hallway—at least not without debasing herself again somewhere along the way. In fact, though she hated to admit it, her usually elegant self wished for nothing more than to plop her bunny rear into the comfort of her chair and finally rest.  

As she approached her destination, Alice couldn’t help but wince at how hot and creamy her thong felt. On top of that, she was about to enter her classroom with said freshly bunnyslopped panties in a skirt that resembled a belt more than anything. One step too wide, one sudden gust of wind, even just tiptoeing and stretching her arms upwards to answer a question on the whiteboard—any of it could leave her accidentally exposing her creamy thong to the entire class.

A heavy wave of humiliation washed over her, making her sick to her stomach. What made it worse was that from the way she felt her body flush hotly and her insides contract, she could sense the thirst starting to come back again, with its usual accomplice—the curling of her stockinged toes—in tow.

Needless to say, it didn't take long for her to start creaming her thong again.

Luckily for her, her seat was at the back of the classroom. With any luck, she could keep her head down and avoid any unwanted attention until the end of the lesson—just long enough to slip away to the nearest restroom, clean up, and pull herself together. All she had to do was hold on for the next hour or so.  

Before entering, Alice glanced down to check on herself. What she saw made her want to sink through the floor in shame. All of her sweat had turned her blouse slightly translucent, the black of her risqué bra starkly visible beneath it. Not just that, but as expected if she shuffled her feet apart even more than a foot wide, from the luminous flash of off-white, she could already see the bottom of her utterly creamslopped thong exposed for everyone to see. 

Through the classroom windows, Alice could see most of her classmates had already arrived—mingling, standing, and chatting, completely unaware of the horrible state she was in. Her chest tightened as the knot of anxiety in her stomach grew heavier. She could slip in through the back door and reach her seat mostly unnoticed. But as the scion of the noble Thymefield family, the thought of sneaking in like a delinquent late for class was simply unthinkable.  

It was only natural—not to mention expected—for someone of her standing to enter through the front door like a proper lady, offering equally proper greetings to everyone she passed. Anything less would be unthinkable. And that was what she did every day. But today was an exception. Today the very thought of performing her usual routine sent deep shivers of fear and shame rippling through her.  

It went without saying why.  

Showing up all flushed and sweaty with her repulsive asymmetrical pupils fully dilated.

Nylon stockings ripped open at the crotch. 

Her frilly black bra showing through her translucent blouse. 

The fifteen-centimeter pleated skirt sitting high above her waist. 

The openly creamy state of her thong under it. 

Not to mention the smell, the mhn-ed cursed smell. A mindnumbingly lewd blend of pure sex consisting of her favorite soap, perfume, sweat, Thiren pheromones, and naughty bunny cream. The paranoia that anyone standing near her might sniff her out scraped at her mind, an overwhelming obsession that refused to let go. 

Alice took a moment to think before making her final approach to class.  

She really really really didn’t want to go through the front door today. But at the same time, neither did she wish to let her family name down. 

[Select Alice’s choice] 

Choice A: Avoid unnecessary attention just this once. Enter via the back door.

Choice B: Alice has to live up to her Thymefield name no matter what. Enter via the front door. 

Chapter Text

[Enter via the front door.] 

Of course it had to be the front door. What had she been thinking, even letting herself consider the easy way out? She wasn’t the kind of naughty girl who would jeopardize her family’s name for her own selfish desires! 

With her heart pounding in her fluffy ears and the Porcelumex aphrodisiacs still rampaging through her system, Alice stood before the closed front door, took a deep breath, and tried to steady herself. After all, as a proper heiress of the Thymefield family, she was expected to remain poised and composed at all times, no matter the circumstances. She might have been unable to control the dilated state of her eyes or the trembling in her body—or even the lewd musky smell wafting from her—but she could still project an outward air of dignity and elegance. 

Though even with her best efforts, Alice couldn’t completely stop the pink thoughts from slipping into her mind. It was impossible, given how her disheveled uniform and overheated body served as a constant, screaming reminder that yes, she was still incredibly horny right now. Each time one of those pink lances pierced through her rationality, her nylon-covered toes inside her boots clenched tightly as the stains in her thong found themselves refreshed with another fresh dollop of bunny cream. 

It was now or never. Nothing would change by lingering any longer, and besides, standing outside too long might arouse her classmates’ suspicions.  

Steeling herself, Alice slid the door open. The well-oiled rollers squeaked softly as it glided ajar. 

“Good morning, everyone!” she raised her voice and called out loud. 

As expected, the sound of the door along with her voice drew attention.

A lot of attention actually.

Multiple heads swiveled in her direction.

If they hadn’t been looking before, they certainly were now.

But she’d no choice, even if it wasn’t something she wanted to do, she had to uphold the image of her Thymefield name. Plus, it went without saying that a Thymefield faced everything before them head-on and with their head held high.

Not everyone turned to look at her when she spoke her greeting but more did than she would have liked. She could feel their eyes tracing over every inch of her body. Starting at her face, then her chest, before moving downwards to her skirt and legs. With each focal point their gazes paused. The stunned, judgmental looks on her classmates' faces twisted the humiliating knot tighter and tighter. Her breath hitched painfully in her throat, panic clawing its way up as Alice struggled desperately to push back against the creeping heat in her core. The last thing, the absolute last thing she wanted was to burst apart in a torrent of shame in front of her entire class. 

As if to make things worse, the weight of every gaze and the burning shame pressed down on her like a physical force. With so much attention directed her way, her oversensitive body—already operating on a razor’s edge—betrayed her completely. Before Alice could stop herself, the breath trapped in her throat burst out in a sharp, painful hiss.  

Like a misericorde, the lewd thoughts solidified into a glistening, sharp blade that pierced through her mental armor; where it proceeded to plunge deep into the soft, vulnerable, spongy matter inside her skull. 

Immediately, her stockinged toes curled inward hard, causing her needy, twitching insides to contract along with it. Her horny bunnypot followed suit—gleefully expelling a thick white cream into her already saturated thong—even as her stubby little tail behind her quivered. She wasn't cumming, not outright, but the hissing her voice made resembled a steadily deflating balloon rather one that went pop when pierced.

Alice was sure it was her sensitive bunny ears picking up sounds no ordinary human could notice, yet she still couldn’t tear herself away from the utterly humiliating slimy noises as she creamed her thong again.

Not just that but she was creaming it hard.

Publicly creaming her panties in front of her classmates like this felt so outrageously lewd, so utterly naughty that her bunny brain almost fried itself into uselessness. It was as if she stood at the very edge of a cliff in her mind, the ground slick with puddles of her own bunny cream. One wrong step on the slippery surface, even the smallest slip, threatened to send her flying over the edge into a devastating freefall she might never recover from. 

The keyword being ‘almost’, that was. 

But having said that, even as she stood ramrod straight—spinal cord locked in place as if she'd been forced into a harness—with her legs tightly shut. It took every last ounce of willpower to keep the expression on her face from twisting into something obscene and ruining her reputation for all of eternity. Alice bit down hard on the insides of her cheeks, not stopping even when the taste of copper filled her mouth. She clung to the pain like a lifebuoy—the only thing keeping her Thiren heat from overwhelming her and pushing her into a fit.  

It took time and several swallows of copper-tasting saliva, but eventually she managed to take a step back from the bunny cream slick edge of the cliff. 

She thanked every single deity that existed in the sky she could think of—and she meant EVERY last one—that the release of her juices had been limited to a heavy drool, and not the uncontrolled spraying an actual orgasm would have caused. Such a thing would have been impossible to conceal. 

The humiliation burned so deeply it almost hurt to breathe—trust her, it really did. Yet at the same time, a small, stubborn shard of happiness flickered in her heart. She could have chosen the easy way and slipped in through the back, but she had rejected that as an insult to her proud Thymefield heritage. Of course, the proper path of a Thymefield was never meant to be easy. If it were, it would be meaningless. Through struggle, meaning was born. Let no one from this day forward dare accuse her of not having earned her Thymefield name! 

Do you see me now, Daddy? What a good girl I am? I did the right thinggggg! It wasn’t easy but I did ittttttt- 

Even as she stood there glazing her panties with her bunny cream, Alice couldn’t help but feel like the biggest daddy's girl in the entire universe at that very moment. The giggly sensation flooding her nervous system raced up her spinal cord to her cerebral cortex, threatening to warp her mind permanently. A renewed sense of confidence filled her, leaving everything around her feeling strangely warm and oddly fuzzy, as if she didn’t need to think. 

It was this confidence that allowed her to maintain a composure worthy of any Thymefield, even as a classmate approached with a look of concern.  

Wait, had she already greeted her class? She couldn't recall such a critical thing. After all, a good girl always made sure to greet her classmates. Well, if she couldn't remember, it was better to be safe then sorry!

"Goooooood morning, everyooooone❤️~!" She blurted out again, this time much louder than before. After all, she needed to make sure everyone heard her!

"Um, Alice... are you okay? Your uniform... it's..." Her voice faded away.  

All eyes were on her now.

Thirty-nine pairs.

Watching her cream her thong.

Despite the numbing ecstasy of the pink goop filling her brain, her facade of composure threatened to crack. 

“T-there’s a…there’s a good reason for…” Oh gosh, she could feel her heart thumping. Her large chest too was rising with quicker breaths, drawing attention to her frilly black brassier. Adding to her humiliation, her stockinged toes clenched and unclenched in rapid succession inside her shoes. Her quim sputtered as it repeatedly spat out thick globs of her girly slime in response. It felt like her little skirt would hike up any moment now and expose her completely.

She was freaking out! She was freaking out! She was freaking ou-

To stop her mounting panic, Alice swallowed the lump in her throat. At the same time she mentally slurped down a large gulp of the goopy pink slime that was currently marinating her brain to steady herself. It tasted sweet, saccharine even, like a sugary macaron that threatened to send her into a hyperactive nymphomaniac high if she consumed too much of the stuff.  

No—she was Alice Thymefield, and Thymefields didn’t lose their composure that easily! 

She gave a haughty flip of her hair, the symmetrical accessories on either side of her twintails jingling in perfect unison. “M-My uniform tore yesterday, so I checked the school rules, and it turns out the dress code just says we can wear whatever we want within reason… so I just threw on something comfortable!” 

Nailed it! Her stubby tail at the back wiggled, a sign of her glee—in fact, she nearly bunny bounced in place before she managed to catch herself—that was exactly the kind of response she was raised to give! 

“Are you sure? Your face is flushed… Do you have a fever, maybe?” The girl seemed unconvinced. Alice winced as she noticed her classmate stealing glances at her chest. It was clear she didn’t want to address the elephant in the room.  

“I didn’t want to be late to class, so I ran up the stairs—no need to worry! I appreciate your concern, truly!” To add weight to her words, Alice gave a slight bow. A sudden draft of cold air against her stockinged butt told her she’d just flashed her panties to anyone who happened to be watching. Luckily for her, no one was behind her at that moment. But the mishap hammered into her mind the importance of watching her movements and being more careful. 

Taking only the steadiest, most careful steps, Alice slowly made her way between the rows of desks to her seat by the back window. She dared not walk too fast, fearing that any sudden movement or breeze might flip her airy pleated skirt.  

She forced herself to ignore the hushed whispers—and the sharp stabbing sensation of their gazes—throughout it all. Throughout the walk to her seat, Alice maintained the flawless outward image of noble elegance. Which was a miracle considering how hot and slimy her slip felt. 

Symmetrical steps, but not too wide, Alice repeated to herself. 

Keep going, don’t look back. One foot after the other. She repeated to herself again. 

“What’s going on? Did Thymefield lose a bet or something?” 

“Hey, did you see? Ew, she’s wearing naughty underwear. What a shameless girl. I bet her parents would have a heart attack if they were still alive.” 

“Do you smell something weird? Like ripe fruit?” 

Ignore it, don’t listen to any of it. La-la-la-la-la-la. Over and over again, Alice repeated. 

After hanging her school bag on the hook to the side of her desk, Alice couldn’t stop herself from letting out a most inelegant sigh of relief once she reached the safe haven of her seat. She cringed in humiliation at the soft squelch that reached her ears as she sat. To avoid staining her skirt, she had to position herself in such a way that the gusset of her thong made direct contact with the seat. Thanks to the hole around the crotch of her stockings, there was no barrier—not even the thinnest or most perfunctory layer—between the wooden seat of her chair and her panties. She didn’t even need to look to know that letting her slimy, bunnyslopped thong touch the chair would only dirty it.  

Whenever she shifted in her seat, Alice was pretty sure she was leaving a trail of her own creamy slick behind. 

She couldn’t do anything about her seat, but at least she could try to hide her bra from showing through her shirt. By resting her arms crossed on her desk, she created a barrier that gave her a reasonable amount of coverage. She planned to keep it that way for the rest of the lesson. 

“Alright, settle down. Take out your textbooks and turn to page 96,” Professor Benini said as he walked into the classroom. A tall man of average build with ashen gray hair that betrayed his advancing age, he was known at Celestia Academy as a strict taskmaster—quick to hand out harsh punishments and detentions to rulebreakers, or sometimes simply because he’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.  

But simple dislike wasn’t the reason that drove Alice to vandalizing the sculpture in his likeness. No, what fueled her intense aversion was the utterly vile monocle he usually wore over his right eye—something that sent her asymmetry radar into overdrive. Thankfully, that radar was at ease today, as—for some reason—Professor Benini had come to class without any eyewear adorning his blocky face. 

She pulled out her textbook and writing pad, ready to jot down her usual notes, but the pounding in her head was growing harder to ignore. The heat coursing through her body only intensified it, like a relentless nutcracker behind her eyes.  

Her body was hot, unbearably so even. It burned—feverish and flushed. Not even the cool blast of her school’s air conditioning or the droplets of bunnysweat evaporating off her skin could ease the heat. If anything, they only teased her with the illusion of relief, leaving her simmering just beneath the edge. 

One of the main heat sources in her body were her boots. All the walking and climbing generated so much heat they became unbearable—trapping heat like an oven around her feet. It felt like they were embers, desperate for escape, for air, for anything that might cool the smoldering. Unable to endure it any longer, Alice subtly pressed one boot against the other, using the welt to pry them off—one after the other, in quiet succession.  

“Oof, it feels so good...” 

Freed from their cage, Alice let out a soft, pleased whimper as her stuffy, stockinged feet finally tasted the cool air that had already kissed the rest of her skin. The moment her nylon-clad feet met the cold floor, a thrilling shiver ran down her spine. Whenever her warm nylon-clad soles lingered for more than a few moments in the same spot, they left behind moist prints on the tiles in the shape of her feet.  

When she splayed her nylon-clad toes, her eyelashes fluttered as she felt the cooling sensation lick the skin between her lower digits. Wiggling them, Alice couldn’t help but giggle softly at how perfectly symmetrical the toe seams on her black stockings looked. The nylon around her toes was woven with a higher denier, making that area slightly darker than the rest of the stockings. Still, she could see her nail polish peeking through the delicate black fabric. Light pink peeked out faintly, adding a pretty contrast of color beneath the dark nylon.  

The shiver that traveled down her spine was borne from more than simple relief alone. It carried with it a quietly blossoming spark of naughty pleasure, hidden deep within. She searched for a reason behind it, and it didn’t take long for her model student intellect to uncover why. After all, like most people, she only removed her shoes at home or in private—rarely did she have the chance to go without footwear in public. So of course, taking her shoes off like this sent thrills through her body. 

To her surprise, her normally conscientious mind barely protested when she slipped off her shoes in class. Maybe it was the pure pleasure of the cold tiles beneath her stockinged feet overriding it—or perhaps the pure self-satisfied glee of having been a good girl that’d successfully followed every rule. By now her head was so fuzzy she wasn't even sure herself.

Alice had climbed the stairs instead of taking the staff elevator.  

Alice had entered her class through the front door instead of sneaking in the back like a naughty girl. 

Alice had been a good girl this entire time. 

Just like her daddy had raised her, good girls always found themselves rewarded for choosing to do what was right over what was easy.  

Yes, indeed, Alice here had been a good girl, so it was only right that good girls like her got their reward! It was only fair!  

Alice didn’t realize it, but she had already begun thinking of herself in third person.  

The pleasurable chill on the soles of her stockinged feet sparked ideas in her mind. Why did she have to endure the painfully uncomfortable heat inside her body? Why did she have to suffer through the sticky, unpleasant sweat while trapped in her uniform? Why couldn’t she just cool herself down? What was wrong with that? After all, cooling off would ease the pounding in her head and help her think—so her desire wasn’t motivated by purely selfish reasons. After all, a model student needed their brain more than anything else!  

Yes, that was it. She just needed to cool off, and everything would be alright. Besides, she’d earned it for being such a good girl; nay, she deserved it even. 

Fueled by this reasoning in her heat and drug-addled mind, Alice unbuttoned the next three buttons of her blouse, revealing her glistening cleavage and the tops of her naughty black bra. The large ribbon she wore on her chest felt like a barrier, so with a heavy heart, she gently removed the delicate, symmetrical accessory and tucked it into her school bag. 

More steamy air, heavy with the musky scent of bunnysweat, poured from beneath her blouse. The relief that coursed through her body was instant and palpable. Immediately, Alice could feel the scorching heat in her blood cool down by a couple of degrees. The pounding in her head and ears eased, giving way to a wave of bliss that had her shoulders shuddering.  

Her slurry mind slurred out equally slurry thoughts.  

She needed more of that cooling sensation—there was absolutely no way she was stopping here. With her feet and her cleavage already receiving their ration of fresh circulating air, only her underarms and lower body were left. She couldn’t do much about the heat in her armpits without taking her blouse off completely, but her lower half was another story. The tiny skirt she wore helped with that—just enough to give her ideas. 

In the first place, good girls didn’t go around with their panties utterly slopped through and reeking of bunny cream, so she could kill one ugly asymmetrical bangboo with two delightfully symmetrical stones by airing out her panties and cooling off her overheated body at the same time. Not to mention, with her seat tucked near the back of the class by the window—and everyone either focused on the lesson or at least pretending to be—Alice figured she was safe enough. 

But even with her little bunny brain reduced to mush, Alice still had just enough sense to know better than to do it somewhere she might get caught. That’s when the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place in her mind—a true eureka moment that lit her up with glee from the inside out.  

Professor Benini had shown up today without his monocle. The same Professor Benini notoriously known throughout the school for his terrible eyesight. After her artistic redesign of his hideous, asymmetrical sculpture—privately commissioned by the school board—he must’ve realized how ridiculously disgusting his previous asymmetrical looked. It was either that or he wished to avoid being a walking contradiction next to the new, beautifully symmetrical version she’d made. In other words, the aging professor had clearly ditched the monocle to save face. 

Without his monocle, there was a good chance that anything beyond the length of his own palm was nothing but a blurry haze—just vague, featureless blobs in the distance.  

That meant she could cool off her steaming lower body without getting caught! The risk was still there, but now it felt deliciously possible! 

But to be certain—after all, as a model student, Alice knew better than anyone to verify her theories with empirical data—she raised her hand, pretending to ask a question or request permission to go to the bathroom. 

Professor Benini droned on, his eyes gazing vaguely into the distance. Even when they seemed to settle on her, he made no sign of noticing her. 

Just to be absolutely, completely, a hundred and ten percent bunny nabbit sure, she even kept her hand stuck in the air for a couple of moments longer, even going so far as to wave them repeatedly in the air. Since her desk was located at the back of the class, no other student noticed her as well.  

When Professor Benini showed no sign of noticing her, Alice had to fight hard to keep from slipping back into her rabbit Thiren self and squealing aloud in pure euphoria. Her revolting asymmetrical eyes—their pupils still dilated—widened as a frantic urge gnawed away at her insides, desperate to be fed.  

The good girl Alice was going to get her reward!  

Alice knew that being a good girl was worth it! 

The little bunny had earned her carrot and by gosh was Alice going to get it! 

The only thing that Alice needed to decide was how greedy her reward was going to be. On one hand, she could simply spread her legs open at her seat to air her panties out—but even that felt like an insult against the effort she’d made to stay a good girl earlier. Sure, it was less risky—and she could quickly shut her legs if she felt someone was about to catch her—but the truth was, that option didn’t appeal to her at all. Doing something like that felt like it demeaned all her efforts, like there was no point to being a good girl if she wasn’t going to get her promised carrot at the end.  

On the other hand, she could go all out and put her stockinged feet right on the seat of her chair. No one was going to catch her anyway, so what difference would it really make? None at all really! Gosh, that sounded like such an amazing idea, her mushy bunny mind almost squealed at it.  

Alice wanted it

Alice wanted it

Alice wanted it

wanted

it

carrot

Even as she smushed the gusset of her thong into the seat of her chair and rubbed away—she was already sitting in a hot puddle of her juices anyway—the pink fog wrapping around her brain was making it hard to think.

All Alice knew was that she needed to decide, and soon.

[Select Alice’s choice]

Choice A: Why settle for half a carrot when she could have the whole thing? Put her stockinged feet up on her chair and spread them wide. 

Choice B: So*eth*ng do*sn’t *dd *p. J**t s*ick t* spreading her legs ben*a*h her d**k.  

Chapter Text

[Put her stockinged feet up on her chair and spread them wide.] 

Alice didn’t waste a second. She wasn’t even sure why she’d hesitated in the first place. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she scooted forward—ignoring the slick squelching sound beneath her—and smoothly lifted her legs, placing her dainty stockinged feet on the chair. Putting her feet up like this was already naughty enough, but she didn’t stop there. From her bed of fluffy pink clouds, she watched dully as her knees and thighs slowly spread, stopping only when both limbs were stretched to a perfectly symmetrical distance.  

By the time she was done, her stockinged legs were elegantly bent and spread in her chair, arching and folding in a way that perfectly traced the symmetrical shape of the letter ‘M’. With her stockings ripped at the crotch, this left her thong on complete and open display to anyone who cared to look.  As if to draw even more attention to that area—with her bunny tush pushed forward in the chair in that manner—it naturally placed all the emphasis on her panty-clad mound.  

Her blood pressure spiked, shame and humiliation surging through her veins as she saw how badly stained her panties were stained. No—calling them stained wasn’t even accurate. The entire front of her thong was simply slathered in her cream, there was no other way to describe it. The whole thing was so completely covered with her white girly slime that not a trace of the original black showed through.

Even through the pink fog clouding her mind, seeing the creamy state of her thong still made hot shame cut straight through to her bones. It was both unsightly and humiliating—an obscene display that made her want to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

It was official now—she was now at the back of her class, racy bra exposed, stockinged feet perched on her seat, and showing off her creamy panties out in the open for anyone to see. Just the thought alone had her nylon-clad toes scraping against the wooden seat beneath her. Her own bunny musk filled her nostrils, deepening the sickening wave of humiliation already flooding her body. 

The worst—and also the most terribly exciting—part was whenever Professor Benini glanced her way. Alice knew his eyesight was too poor to truly see her, but that didn’t stop her mind from erupting in white-hot flashes every time his gaze landed on her. Or her stockinged toes from scraping wood again and squeezing fresh bunny cream from her entrance. With her thong pulled taut against her slit by her spread legs, there was nowhere else for her sticky girl juices to go other than to be pumped directly into the cotton material. 

Her insides were flooded with her feminine lubricant. Her panties were never going to air dry at this rate! She needed to do something about that. In an effort to aid the expulsion of her girly slime, Alice used her fingers to splay her entrance open by pulling at her puffy labia from behind her thong. Maybe she could expel the aphrodisiacs out this way. 

Her stockinged toes clenched along with her insides as she held herself open. More hot girly slime splattered out noisily. 

She giggled.

The way she saw it, her thong was already creamed beyond recognition—or salvation, really, so it didn’t matter how much sloppier they got if it meant there was a chance for her to get rid of the drugs in her system.  

Her nylon-clad toes wiggled happily, before curling hard again. 

Until now, she’d never had the chance to witness it herself, but with her panty-clad mound front and center like a showpiece at a display, she was able to—literally—receive a front row seat to the process that usually happened out of sight under her skirt. 

Watching through her revolting asymmetrical eyes, she saw how her white creamy juices slowly forced their way through the cotton fabric where they went on to form visible globs on the front. Seeing how heavily creamed her thong looked sent a sickly mix of humiliation and twisted pleasure, one that to her horror served to trigger the corrupted Ether within her to mutate even further.  

But that wasn’t even the worst part. 

The worst part was that with her bunnypot so obscenely spread open with her fingers, even through her thong, she could see a small, wriggling area pulsing beneath the thin slimy fabric. Her face flooded with red the moment her mind made the connection.  

She was so desperately needy that even her most private bunny hole winked and dilated open, like a child throwing a tantrum. Whenever that part of her twitched, Alice could feel herself expelling even more of her bunny cream. 

Splaying herself open like this and creaming her panties in public at the back of her class made her feel naughty. It made her feel so utterly naughty and lewd that she found even the spit in her throat difficult to swallow. She had no choice but to clamp her mouth—the upper one, for her lower one still freely drooled all over the place— to silence herself. The best she could manage was a choking, ragged gargle. 

Her winking, pulsing hole ignited a desperate urge she couldn’t control. With a facial expression that found itself contorting into something utterly inelegant and unlady-like—her tongue was even out for gosh sakes— Alice couldn’t resist plunging her fingers inside. 

Through her thong itself. 

She didn’t bother with removing her thong or even sliding the gusset to the side this time—her melty brain couldn’t summon the clarity required, not even for a thought that simple. No higher thought function remained in her bunny cranium—just the spool heat coiling low in her core, the pounding of blood in her ears, and the overwhelming need to satisfy her most primal, aching Thiren desires. That was when her restraint finally cracked. 

There, right in broad daylight. 

At the back of Class 1-C. 

In one of the most prestigious schools in all of New Eridu. 

With her stockinged feet up on her chair and splaying them wide open.

Alice started to move her fingers. 

She started slowly, small fragments of reason still clinging on. Her rabbit ears twitched at the soft, wet squelch of her finger sliding in and out. Each sound rang louder than it should have, echoing in her cerebral cortex like a cruel reminder—each squelch driving a fresh spike of shame straight through what was left of her dignity. By now, her other hand had moved to squeezing her large boobs. 

Shame and humiliation flooded her, and hot, vicious white girl slime flooded out in exchange. Gosh, what would everyone say if they saw her? Stockinged feet up wide open on her chair with her creamy panties on display like this while fingerbanging herself during class? Her life would be over. Over! It would be like everything she’d thought up on the stairwell and then some. 

She started to ram her fingers.

It didn’t take long before Alice found herself pistoning rapidly—pretty much using her fingers to jam the soggy, slimy fabric into her sticky, creamy hole. 

In and out.  

Out and in.

In and out.

WIth each rotation, a fresh flood. The schlicking sounds became louder, nastier. Her thong was getting so creamy and sloppy, but she loved it like nothing else.

Gosh, she was such a nympho bunny wasn’t she? Nothing but a good-for-nothing bunny brained pervert who got off to touching herself in class! What was she even thinking? That she deserved a normal life like anyone else? No! It was her fault Papa died! All because of those cursed, asymmetrical eyes she had! If only she’d been born as a good symmetrical girl, none of this would have happened! None of her bad luck would have touched him! It was her fault. Every last bit of it. All of it! 

All hers. 

Maybe it was a good thing if she got caught like this—perched with her stockinged feet on her chair—degrading herself by using her fingers to pound her bunnypot into a creamy, sloppy mess for everyone to see! If she were caught, the Thymefield family would have no choice but to disown her to protect their reputation. At last, the cursed, asymmetrical child known as Alice Thymefield would be completely erased from the family tree—restoring its perfect symmetry once and for all! There might be no way for her papa to come back, but her grandpapa could still recover and get better!

Going by that logic, her mhn-ed up bunny brain reasoned, the best outcome was for her to keep going all the way to the very end. The thorny path ahead might be painful, but like her daddy always said, the right things rarely come easy! If all it took was her sacrifice to save the Thymefield family from this curse, then so be it! It wasn't as if asymmetrical garbage like her had any value anyway! 

For some reason, even as she stared as Professor Benini, she couldn’t help but overlay an image of her father in his place. 

Look, daddyyy~! Do you see how much of a gooood girl Alice is? Pet Alice on the head and call Alice a good girl! Seeeeeee, all your hard work raising Alice didn’t go to wasteeeeeeee❤️  

Alice was determined to be a good girl until the very end. Alice was sure this was exactly what her daddy wanted. Just like Alice, he would do anything to protect the Thymefield name—Alice was certain of that! 

You were right daddy! Right things do feel good! 

Her eyes were dilated, blind to reality around her even as her fingers continued their frantic pounding. Her stockinged toes curled and uncurled rapidly as her quim spewed bunny cream all over her thong. Somewhere deep in her mind, buried beneath the pain, grief and drugs, the voice of a little girl screamed in the distance. 

[Select Alice’s Choice] 

Choice A: Something’s weird. This doesn’t make sense. Stop everything and put her feet down.  

Choice B: Did someone say something? It must be the evil asymmetrical monster trying to turn her into a bad girl. Ignore it and keep going until the very end.