
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11715852.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Lilo_&_Stitch_(2002)
  Relationship:
      Lilo_Pelekai/Stitch_|_Experiment_626, Jumba_Jookiba/Wendy_Pleakley
  Character:
      Lilo_Pelekai, Stitch_|_Experiment_626, Jumba_Jookiba, Wendy_Pleakley
  Additional Tags:
      Experimentation, Sexual_Experimentation, Mutual_Masturbation, Frottage,
      Xenophilia, Alien_Gender/Sexuality, Animal_Play, Community:_seasonofkink
  Collections:
      Season_of_Kink, Anonymous
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-05 Words: 1961
****** No Boys Allowed ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Jumba presses his fingerpads together before turning to Pleakley and
     releasing a heavy sigh. “Just as I suspected. Little girl is going
     through what humans call ‘puberty.’ The change in her hormonal
     balance is activating sexual response in 626.”
Notes
     For the seasons of kink bingo prompt "animal play"
Nani’s shrill scream pierces the air like clockwork. Pleakley jumps despite the
routine of it all, while Jumba watches from his chair at the kitchen table. He
thumbs through a couple articles on his tablet, barely digesting the headlines.
There’s another revolution on Alternia; something about the Irken Armada
announcing an official snack shortage. What else is new?
“He did it again!” Nani shouts, voice echoing throughout the house. “What is
your problem you little creep?”
She appears through the kitchen doorway, face twisted into a frown. Jumba
reaches for a piece of toast and ignores Pleakley's incomprehensible rambling.
“Oh come on,” David says, looking sympathetic. He follows her out from the
bedroom while Jumba spreads jam with a knife. “It can’t be that bad.”
“He ate another one of Lilo’s underwear.” Nani gives David a serious look and
lowers her voice. “And the other day I found him humping a couch cushion.”
The two of them have been married for a while now, several earth years. It was
a quaint ceremony Stitch had promptly destroyed. Jumba since was forced to
extend one of the rooms and deconstruct half the house to fit him in, but he
became part of their ohana, so they made it work.
David shrugs. “Dogs do this kind of thing all the time.”
“And maybe that would be fine except for the fact that he’s not a dog!” Nani
throws her hands in the air. “He’s supposed to be intelligent...he should know
better.”
“I can teach him to be better!” Lilo cries defiantly, leaping out from where
she was hiding behind the doorway.
“Uh-uh, no way. You stay out of this.” Nani turns to Jumba and lowers her
voice. “And I don’t want him sleeping in her room anymore.”
“That’s not fair!” Lilo cries, stomping her foot. “You’re ruining my life on
purpose.”
“It’s gross,” Nani says definitively. “Besides he could - he could get a block,
or something. I don’t know!” She stares expectantly at Jumba and then Pleakley.
“Keep an eye on them, okay?”
Jumba rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure we are needing to watch them all
the time? Little girl and 626…”
They’ll do what they always do; figure it out. The screen door rattles as Nani
rushes out for another Saturday morning shift while Lilo starts her mission,
dragging Stitch behind her. Jumba watches them play from a crack in the tiny
curtained window.
Although only a negligible amount of time has passed, little girl is nearly
double in size since they first met. Comparatively, 626 appears completely
unchanged, but it isn’t so. In addition to behavioral abnormalities, he has
begun showing unprecedented signs of physical growth and an influx of hormones,
especially around certain days of the lunar calendar.
Lilo pats Stitch’s head. “It’s okay, you probably just need a girlfriend.”
Stitch frowns, mouth struggling to imitate the sound. “Girlfriend?”
The idea is as laughable as it is fruitless. Unlike organic lifeforms,
experiment 626 was never hard coded with the ability to experience romantic
love or sexual attraction.
“Not like Angel,” she clarifies. She presents Stitch with a stuffed toy
comparable in size, girlish with big floppy ears. “What about this, do you like
it?”
Stitch buries his nose into the creature’s soft flesh before inhaling sharply
and tearing it to shreds. Pieces of fabric fly through the air and rain down
around them like monochromatic confetti.
“You’re not supposed to wreck it! You’re supposed to love it.” She puts the
torn arm back in place and watches a piece of stuffing fall to the ground.
“None of the boys at school like me,” she admits softly. “Not that I would want
a stupid boyfriend anyway.”
Stitch stares at her, ears wilted. He can sense Lilo’s sadness and stress, and
on a purely analytical level, he can even understand her conflicted feelings.
She wrings her hands in her pajamas, twisting her legs, eyes trained on her
bare feet. One of his ears swivels and flicks in the air when she speaks,
dissecting the tone of her voice.
“Okay,” Lilo says after a long pause. “I’m going to let you in on a little
secret.”
Jumba eyes the little green bar on his tablet while Stitch perks up; he can
smell the pheromone shift in the air. Lilo rubs her thighs together and crosses
her arms over her developing chest.
“Some things you only do in private time, okay?”
“Okay, okay,” Stitch nods his head as he tries to digest the new information.
“Private time. I understand.”
Jumba clamps a hand on Pleakley's shoulder when he tries to pass through with a
basket of laundry. He stops in his tracks to watch Lilo and Stitch through the
kitchen window, spread out in the backyard under the early morning sunlight.
“Just as I suspected. Little girl is going through what humans call ‘puberty.’
The change in her hormonal balance is activating sexual response in 626.”
“Puberty? You mean sexual maturation?! Oh no! How do we stop it?” Panic is fast
and fleeting. “This is bad, right?”
“That,” Jumba takes a deep breath. “I do not know.” He levels his hand back and
forth. “Could be bad. Could be...less bad. Depends on circumstance.”
Pleakley furrows his brow. “What’s the circumstance?”
“Not sure.” Jumba braces his palms on his knees before forcing himself into a
creaky stand. The space outside is empty. “Circumstance has moved upstairs.”
By the time they make it to the observation deck Lilo and Stitch are already
barricaded inside her room, sitting cross legged on her sleek bed. Pleakley
stares at the video feed, while Jumba redirects the camera for a better angle.
It’s been awhile since he’s used the control room for anything more than
escaping Pleakley's criticism.
On the biggest screen, Lilo bashfully threads the bedsheet through her fingers.
There’s a graph on a parallel screen assessing various stats. Stitch lifts
Lilo’s nightgown, exposing her undergarments for a flash of a second. The
second screen beeps, indicating a significant temperature increase.
“Hey!” Lilo’s face turns a violent shade of red. “Don’t look at me!”
Stitch freezes, releasing his hold on her clothes and ducking his head. He
shudders and turns away while Lilo takes a deep, bracing breath.
“You don’t know how to…” She gestures sheepishly with her hands. “You know.”
Stitch cocks his head to the side and scratches his leg. Lilo sighs,
approaching him more tentatively than usual. “Alright, this is one of those
things you only do in private time. Like crying into a pillow or humping the
couch.”
That’s what feels the most invasive about this whole thing, all these human
feelings overcomplicating simple matters.
“You don’t have any nipples, or a belly button, I guess cause you got created,
instead of born.” His tail rises, helicoptering when Lilo runs her hands over
the fur on his chest. “See?”
Stitch thumps his foot when Lilo reaches for the pink tapered cock poking
between his legs. He starts to pant as she tentatively explores the slick,
exposed organ. Jumba covers his face and turns to his partner.
“Little girl is teaching Stitch how to - you know.” Jumba gesticulates with his
hands and a grin splits his face.
“Oh.” Pleakley shakes his head, graspers trembling. “Oh no. No, no, no, no!”
A deep laugh rumbles from his chest. “And from the looks of it he is pretty
fast learner.”
“This can’t be happening,” Pleakley cries. There’s a big, fat tear welling up
in his one huge eye. “This is it, this is the end!”
“What?” Jumba grunts. “Where is harm?”
Pleakley presses his hands to his cheeks. “They’re not even the same species!”
Jumba shrugs. “Neither are we.”
Pleakley dries his eye and peers over Jumba’s shoulder. “Can he really be
taught to...?”
“Who knows.” Jumba tilts his head, scanning another monitor and struggling to
keep up with the raw stream of data. “I never programmed him to surf, either.”
Stitch sniffs around under Lilo’s pajamas until his snout bumps her crotch. He
breathes out, damp and warm. His claws curl carefully around her legs as he
inspects the smell of her more intimately, trying to understand the biological
impulses driving her recent changes in behavior.
“Hey, don’t!” she shrieks, when Stitch reaches for her underwear. “I’ll take
them off!” She hooks her thumbs in the elastic waistband. “This is my favorite
one. Because it has a heart on the front. So be careful, okay?”
She pulls them down around her thighs and Stitch steps forward, wavering as he
scents the air. Every muscle movement is premeditated with carefully calculated
precision. His tongue is strong enough to spread the delicate folds of flesh,
rough enough to titillate. He seals his mouth over the orifice and hollows his
cheeks.
Lilo yanks her underwear back up, pushing his head away and shying away from
direct contact. Stitch huffs, bending over to lick and nuzzle his own erection,
snorting impatiently. He sits dazed, half hypnotized by lust while Lilo looks
embarrassed enough to burst.
Pleakley makes a face like he’s trying not to pass out. “But Lilo isn’t the
proper age for human reproduction!“
Jumba rolls his eyes as he reaches for a control switch. “Does that look like
reproduction to you?”
Stitch is still rutting against her relentlessly, making use of all six legs
and sliding his slimy organ over the front of her underwear. He tries to mount
her, once on her knee, and once on her head, until she shrieks and topples him
off the mattress.
“Well, no.” Pleakley sniffs. “I suppose not.”
They watch her try to pin him from above but Stitch braces for her weight
before turning them over. Stitch worms himself between her legs, trembling with
the desire to tear through the fabric covering her body. The garment rides up
to reveal part of her developing chest, round and mammalian. He slips clumsily
against her a few more times, Lilo wriggling beneath him.
“Let me up, let me up!” Lilo shouts, alarmed. “You’re scaring me.”
Stitch leans back on his haunches and Lilo sits up on her elbows. She stares at
the darkening wet spot on her green nightgown. It’s not always been so easy to
gross out little girl. It as if planet itself influences individual physiology,
like one massive, collective beast.
“Ew.” Lilo drags her fingers through the translucent goop. “What is it?”
Stitch clasps his hands together and ducks his head. “Creek.”
She giggles when he licks the whole mess from her nightgown, cleaning her up
and covering her in drool. It looks too innocent for what preceded it. Lilo
tumbles out of her nightgown, bold and adventurous.
“That’s what you’re supposed to do - alone,” she insists, face flushed. Her
arms push her breasts together when she shoves two hands between her thighs,
rocking against her wrists while Stitch watches. “But we can do it together,
sometimes.”
His antennae twitch with interest and he bounces on his heels, itching for
another taste. She invites Stitch to look closer with a wave of her hand, and
when she has his attention she gives him a serious look.
“Under two conditions: firstly, that you stop eating my panties, and second...”
She pulls Stitch closer by the collar, twisting her toes in the carpet. “We
have to take turns.”
This is merely the tip of the iceberg - the big trouble leading to even
biggerer trouble further down the line. Jumba’s favorite kind. He slams his
palm onto a button to cut the video feed. They’ve seen enough.
Pleakley turns to him, jaw unhinged. “What should we tell her sister?”
Jumba’s eyes bulge. “I vote nothing.”
“Fine,” Pleakley huffs, “but you have to have ‘the talk’ with Stitch later.”
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