The little vulpix did not want to leave the hill. Not. At. All. She begged Lexi that she could stay, but the mean weavile wouldn’t budge, and practically dragged her away from Lance and Charlie. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she hang out with them? Charlie was fun, and now that he was a girl, she had sooo many new things to talk about with her! Such as how stupid boys could be and how much better being a girl was. Because ew: who would want to be a boy? 

The very thought made her stick her tongue out in disgust, catching a snowflake in the process. Lexi gave her a funny look. "Are you sticking your tongue out at me?"

"Nope! Just thinking about how icky boys are." 

Lexi nodded, acknowledging her wisdom.

Half a minute of dragging her paws through the snow later and Sasha was groaning with boredom. "Can I pleeease go back?" she asked nicely, totally not begging. "I won't bother them, I prooomise! They'll have loads more fun with me there! Because three is funner than two!"

Lexi didn't stop this time. "Sorry, sweetie, but your brother and Charlie want to be alone right now," the no-fun weavile said. “Let’s get you home, then you can play with your other siblings, like your older sister. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

No, it would not. Dara was a boring stick in the snow, especially since Charlie became a girl. But she was smart enough to realize Lexi wouldn’t budge, so another strategy needed to be had. Something clever, something smart, something totally unexpected: she had to pretend to agree.

Plan in motion, she lowered her head in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go play with Dara. Let’s go.”

Lexi quirked an eyebrow, but Sasha kept up the grumpy act—else she might get suspicious!—and shrugged.

Yes! She doesn’t suspect a thing! All I have to do is go into my den, wait a few seconds, and then pop back out and go back to play with Charlie and Lance! Genius!

“Sucker,” Sasha sing-songed, all but strutting through the snow on the way back to the hill, without a chaperone looking up her tails. “Now to see why my brother wants to hog Charlie all to himself!”

She hummed on the way, uncaring that the sun would soon set and land herself in the dark. She wasn’t scared of the dark. The dark could *suck it*, as Sammy liked to say. Whatever that meant. All she knew was that it sounded like it meant business.

Even though she wasn’t exactly sure which way to go, she didn’t have to be sure. Retracing their steps was too easy. 

A few minutes later, said hill popped into view, and Sasha had to resist the urge to rush up there and pounce on her brother. He’d just get mad at her, and a mad Lance was booooring. Might make Charlie mad too, which would suuuck. 

She kept her belly low to the ground, brushing against the snow as she made her way up the hill. Like a stealthy, uh, something stealthy. Failing to hide her giggles upon reaching the rim of the crater at the top of the hill, she peeked over it, little head popping out, only to freeze at what she saw. 

Now, Sasha wasn’t unaware of adult stuff. She knew where babies came from—kind of—and she knew her brother had balls and a sheath, she had a spade, and some other boring stuff. But that knowledge couldn’t prepare her for Charlie trying to bite off the thing inside her brother’s sheath, whatever it was called. 

Her heart raced as she witnessed the brutal scene. What do I do, what do I do?! Has Charlie gone crazy?! Why isn’t Lance trying to escape? Isn’t that part sensitive? Daddy says it’s sensitive! Why else wouldn’t he let me touch it?

But the more she stared, the more she realized something wasn’t right. Lance was groaning, but it didn’t sound like he was in pain. Quite the opposite! Closer to how Mommy sounded during her and Daddy’s ‘private time’. He sounded really girly when moaning, too!

Convinced of Lance’s safety, Sasha watched with curious eyes and perked ears as this strange new event played out. Charlie bobbed her head back and forth, revealing her brother’s dark-blue, glistening thingy with every pull-out. She’d seen it like that before a few times. Lance always told her to go away whenever it happened, and like a good little sister, she obeyed. Well, sometimes. One time she stuck around, hidden of course, until he began to rub it, to which she gagged and ran away, pretending she didn’t see anything.

She never looked again.

But now, as she watched his length sliding in and out of Charlie’s beak, as she stared with open-mouthed awe, she wondered what had been so gross about it. It didn’t seem very bad at all. In even looked like it felt good to have it stroked. Felt good to feel the soft fleshy bits at the back of Charlie’s throat sliding against his thingy. 

Did her thing feel good when touched, too? She frowned and glanced down at her body. Her tails flicked. She’d never tried making herself feel good there, never even thought about it. At most, she’d lick herself clean and giggled when it tickled, but that was it. She never felt the urge to do whatever Charlie was doing to her brother. 

Maybe only boys felt it? 

Lance suddenly stopped thrusting. He seemed to be… holding himself inside? Oh my gosh, I think I can see him in her throat! Ouch! Doesn’t that hurt?

Apparently not, because the fletchinder wasn’t pulling away. Could she even pull away? Could she even breathe? Lance had his paws on her head, holding her there… was he forcing Charlie to do this? She seemed into it a few moments ago.  

Whatever her thoughts on if Charlie needed help or not were, Sasha didn’t act on them, because she was far too busy breathing heavily and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. She even imagined herself in her brother’s place, holding still as Charlie’s beak cradled her privates. 

Without even realizing it, she migrated a paw down between her hind legs, which she pressed firmly against her tingly mound. It felt wet. Like she had finished peeing, only she was quite sure she hadn’t peed for a few hours. Sure, she had to go—she usually did, given the size of her bladder—but she didn’t feel like she was peeing. Just warm, wet, and sticky.

A whine escaped her throat, one she strangled to not give herself away. Her parts felt weird. All squishy and warm and tingly. She pressed harder, following that feeling, teasing her little mound, shivering as the tingly heat grew into a pleasant buzz of sensation. 

Sasha lost herself to this new activity, her entire world narrowed down to a single, glorious part of herself. Her spade had never felt so good, so distinctly alive. She fumbled with her paw to catch more flashes of sensation, whined every time she touched a particular spot furthest from her tailhole, muffled her whimpers as warmth bloomed in her belly like sunshine on the fur. She paid special attention to a particular patch of sensitive flesh just under her tip, and like when scratching a particularly insistent itch, she pressed hard and rubbed in quick, frantic circles, mouth parted as she huffed and panted, never tearing her eyes away from the couple as her imagination plopped herself in Lance’s place, a fantasy she didn’t understand, but one that set her mind and body abuzz regardless. 

Something was building inside her tummy. It began as a small snowstorm but soon swelled into an unstoppable blizzard, threatening to coat the world in a flurry of white. The unfamiliarity and urgency of the sensation nearly made her stop rubbing, but she wanted—no, needed to know where this feeling led. She couldn’t stop, not know, not when she was so close; couldn’t even dream of doing anything except to continue rubbing her most private of parts. She bit her tongue to strangle her whimpers, trying not to get caught. Because this felt… wrong, somehow. Like she’d get in trouble if they knew she was watching, if they knew she was touching herself to them.

After holding himself inside Charlie’s throat and squealing like a girl, Lance eventually pulled out, revealing the entirety of his glistening, blue thingy, so big and shiny with spit and squirting stuff all over Charlie’s face it was so— it looked— so cool, she— 

The snowstorm swelled into a blizzard, then beyond, and Sasha shoved her left paw into her mouth to hide her squeal as stars speckled her vision. Relief rippled through her, powerful and overwhelming, so intense that she almost couldn’t breathe. Like she was literally dying and being born all at once. Nothing in her life up to now was even comparable to this feeling. Her toes flexed, her legs quaked, and her spade throbbed hard against her paw, dancing to a tune she couldn’t hear but felt deep within her core.

“Oh gosh, oh gosh, what is this, oh gosh,” she repeated, trying and failing to process the rapid throbbing happening deep inside, each internal clench sending out enough drizzling pleasure to knock over Articuno herself, let alone a little vulpix. Which was why she wasn’t ashamed to admit she fell over, her legs too wobbly to support herself. Because how could she stand with this happening to her body?

Hot pressure spiked in her underbelly, only to fall as suddenly as it appeared. Warmth soaked her paw, trickling down her thighs and onto the snow, causing a slight sizzling noise as she stained her immaculate white fur. Relief filled her, a relief almost as good as the waves of pleasure. Her ears fell. She was peeing! Why was she peeing? And why did peeing feel so good? She didn’t know, but the relief of relaxing her bladder merged with the waves of pleasure, and suddenly she didn’t care if she was getting it all over her fur. 

“So good,” she squeaked, holding her paw firmly against her twitching, peeing spade. “Sooooo, soooooo good.”

Time passed with Sasha laying there experiencing that wonderful something in the snow, hidden behind the rim of the crater. The scent of urine was strong, though it was mixed in with sweat and another aroma she wasn’t familiar with. The smells snapped her out of her stupor. She felt all sticky, messy in ways a simple accident couldn’t explain. She was used to accidents, having a weak bladder, but this one was new. This was… wow. Like experiencing awesomeness so insane, so pure, her muscles simply couldn’t keep up, failing spectacularly. 

She didn’t know what this was, what the purpose of it feeling that good could be, or why her brother was doing it with Charlie, but one thing was for sure: now that she knew playing with her spade felt this good, she’d never stop.