Serafina sat with her hands in her lap, waiting alone in the nurse's office.
She squirmed. No place for her to rest her eyes. They were everywhere, the mirrors. One on the wall. Another on the nurse's desk. All gleaming from the sunlight, all sneering at her inhuman traits. They were like eyes, human ones, but far worse. Never blinking. Never relenting. They wanted her to look They wanted her to see what they saw.
A monster was among them. A monster who had the nerve to wear a school skirt.
Just who did she think she was, the mirrors seemed to say, to be allowed in a human-owned institution. No. Not allowed. We separate the beast people for their own benefit! What need does she have to learn magic and history not of her own?
To home she should go! Take to the stables! Produce good milk for her human betters!
If Serafina angled herself so slightly, she could push her tan horns out of the reflected image. Tuck her brown tail under her school skirts. So she struggled. Escaping the endless hatred from one mirror to the next. It didn't matter much. Her struggle. Her flailing. To look human in one mirror was to look more monstrous in the next.
And her breasts
- Serafina's eyes watered and she took a breath. Blinked away the tears that try to spill.
There was nothing she could do about them.
It was that time of the month again. Amare il latte, love milk.
Serafina's breasts were swelling, rippling under her poor bra and blouse. Her soft mounds moved of their own will. Instinctively attempting to push out and present. Wanting to be milked and milked until dry. They fought her hold, sensitive flesh pillowing up against Serafina's crossed arms. They weren't nice about it either. Liquid rattling around. Squishing. Squelching. A public embarrassment.
Her nipples weakly throbbed, promising soreness and pain if she didn't use a suppression aid soon.
Not yet perked, her nubs dribbled a light and cream-thin liquid that was not quite milk just yet.
Amare il latte was a biological defense mechanism from a darker time. In the days of old when the kingdoms sealed themselves in and the lands were lawless, the bovine cattalia were forced to produce a sacred liquid to spare their lives. Milk. Love milk. Nectar that was once only given to the gods.
The unique liquid, creamy and moon-white, changed life in Surfeit.
It is true that many of tyrants used the magical properties of love milk to wage violence on all they caught. But the holy substance eventually trickled down. From the palms of dictators to the peasant folk they terrorized.
Where in such a time potions and enchantments were rare, milk was not.
A man who was on his last leg could be revived. Could live on to sire children. Then grandchildren. Then great-grandchildren. It took time. A few miserable centuries under hellish rule. But the enslaved humans reclaimed the lands by sheer numbers than the ruin-kings of old could kill.
Soon enough the humans were able to go to distant lands. Create trade routes. Even open the isolated kingdoms that turned on their own kind. But what of the bovina cattalia that made this happen? Oh. Their story is a sadder one. It would be a very, very long time before they were freed.
The master of the chain merely switched hands.
The bovina of then. Chained together. Stricken into a frenzied state by drugs and poison and worse, and well- Her people were nearly wiped out. Bred and milked to almost extinction. But that time were then. Not now. There are still plenty of bovina that go to the stables. Those of Mammelle descent for one. Cousins to the Cornicello clan that Serafina belongs to. And conditions were greatly improved.
But that isn't how Serafina wanted to live her life.
To be worn down to the size of her breasts and the quality of milk she produced.
If she didn't have to see herself, Serafina could have carried on. Head high. Back straight. Could have pretended that all of her unwanted parts weren't there.
But the mirrors were there, everywhere.
Directing her eyes to the open door, Serafina looked for a distraction. Twenty-one and she was still unable to face her own reflection. Her gaze ran along the academy's gray marble floors and royal blue arched halls. And then she saw it. Another mirror. Hanging in an oddly shaped room. The walls almost coffin-like as they curved towards the hall.
Serafina stared at it. Teeth biting hard into her lip. Could she not escape them! Smooth and a frame a sharp ivory-white, it hung from wall to floor. All the contents of the nurse's lounge reflected in its glass.
This one was crueler than the rest. It reflected all of her.
Horns. Tail. Ginger-red hair. Inflating bust. Wide chunky hips. Even her undergarments weren't spared, showing the lewd view under her skirts. Black thigh highs on pale olive-brown hips. White cotton panties snug on her lower lips.
Serafina twitched, cheeks pinking at what she saw.
Arousal was there as well. A damp spot prominent on the front of her panties.
Serafina fiddled with her clothing. Trying to block out the mirror's probing sight. Little worked. She pushed the bulk of her crimson skirts between her legs. But it left the sides of her thighs bare. The implication it gave to her curved rump and rear... The morning light lingered on the waistband and hipsy cut of the undergarment. Serafina gawked at how the sunlight fell against the glass.
Giving the mirror the impression it was
leering
.
Oh, what a better look for her! It said. They all said. Mirrors. Staring. Ogling. Having at her. Just like the humans. Just like all the humans she met. Take them off. Take them all off. Show us. Show us what you really want! Monster in a skirt? What need does a bovina have for such modest clothing? Strip and lay and present. That is what a monster like you is only good for!
Serafina slammed her legs together and brought her knees onto the waiting couch.
But her panties peeked through the curve of her rounded hips, rudely clinging to her hidden slit. Why on Surfeit did she decide to wear whites today! The contrast of that against her light brown skin couldn't be ignored. Her kept on honing in on it in the mirror. Spellbound. Entranced by the proof of her own sex. And if she could see that, anyone else could!
Thank god, it was still winter break. Any other time and the halls would have been brimming with students. A single fast-paced sea of eyes just waiting to judge her.
Serafina readjusted her posture. Smoothed down her skirts.
Good thing, Ms. Chadwick hadn't arrived yet. She would have caught her new student acting a fool. A bovina cattalia skittish about her own body? Absurd! Insane! Serafina smiled grimly. And yet she was. She hated herself. She hated her body. She hated being along in this school. Not a single fellow cattalia or beastbane in sight. And there was nothing she could do about it. Couldn't clip her tail and horns.
Bind her breasts and play pretend.
But enough of these thoughts. She was here now. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Serafina sighed, tail lazily wagging. What was she here so early again? A letter or a missive would have been nice.
On the bequest of the temporary headmistress, Lydia Chadwick, she'd been asked to arrived three days before Spring Orientation. Serafina couldn't fathom why she might have been needed to come early. Her grades were high. Tuition and board paid for the rest of the year.
This couldn't be a disciplinary thing could it?
No student would be interested in reporting her. Serafina kept her mouth shut and let them bully her. It was easier that way.
Rumor has it that Helms Academy, the oldest school in all of Surfeit, was to be closed by the end of the year. It was the very last still open. Its historical status kept the funding flowing until power and favors decided to divert the money elsewhere.
Academies were irrelevant these days.
They only made all-rounders, students that had a balance in magic, skills and stamina. The demand these days were for specialists. Elites that could be easily categorized and regulated.
When Serafina was a child, hearing tall tales of people venturing out and fighting monster, she though she could have that too. Join a party. Live on the land. Have friends. Save people. The whole hero deal.
All that was gone now.
You only had three options if you wanted that kind of like now: Royal Army. Guilds. Freelancer. Each came with their own drawbacks. And nowadays freelancers meant future bandits. Especially considering all the ways they were taxed and charged for the right to be their own employers.
For Serafina, continuing her education at Helms was purely for the novelty now.
She'd spent too much time petitioning to be allowed in. What kind of a person would she be to leave now? A better-off person for sure. And even though her dreams had been shattered, Serafina stuck with it. What was wrong with seeing the worse decision of her life through? But Ms. Chadwick wasn't here to be the savior of the school. People speculated she was actually here to do the opposite.
Nobody knew which drawstring she belonged to.
But everyone knew she was only here to evaluate the ancient structure and the magical relics within. The guilds wanted to buy the academy. Turn it into a hub center for their latest raid project. The aligned kingdoms of the Central Continent wanted to tear it down. Build a fort to secure their interests. That interest being to stop the guilds from committing more tax evasion.
It was, in short, a pissing contest.
Finally, Ms. Chadwick walked into the nurse's lounge.
Early thirties and curly blonde hair in a messy peacock-like bun, the mature woman crossed the floor on blue heels and an even bluer dress. Tight on her hips, the fabric clung to every angle and line that made up her slim figure. A pair of ample and petite breast sat on her chest. The cut of the dress pushing them up on display. Serafina noted that Ms. Chadwick wasn't professional. It seemed relaxed. Even a bit showy for the nature of this meeting.
But then again, Serafina didn't know what they were meeting for.
