Lily sets you on the counter before the starting line: a strip of white tape. You did not want to think about the stain the glue might leave. (Marsha, standing down the counter, must have agreed with your thought from the annoyed look she briefly gave Lily). But you couldn't worry about aesthetics now. Now, there was baking to do. The urge to run is making your head spin, but you force yourself to wait for the signal.
Lily took out a stopwatch. "Okay Slick, just like we practiced. Three...Two...One... Cookie Time is Go!"
You bolt across the granite counter towards Marsha, the scenery flying past in a blur. Granite suddenly becomes white metal as you cross the top of the oven, trying to avoid any heat coming from inside. Each step was perfect--no way would you screw this up with a stumble.
"Dry Ingredients and Mixing bowl?!" Lily called out.
"Flour; baking soda; Sugars; Salt! Milk and butter in bowl!" Marsha reported, barely keeping the laugh from her voice.
Crossing the oven, you make a beeline for the ingredients Marsha had rattled off: a line of boxes against the wall, each with a measuring cup waiting before it, bridged atop by some poker cards. You scramble up a human-scaled ladder set against the flour bag, taking a roped grappling hook. With one heave you yank it back, ripping the top off and letting the flour pour into the measuring cup. The other boxes quickly follow, you calling out each ingredient.
"Flour, 11 ounces! White sugar, 1/2 cups! Brown sugar, 1 1/2 cups! Baking Soda, one teaspoon!" Marsha snatches the measuring cups away and adds their contentsmto her mixing bowl.
As the last measuring cup is taken away, You leap down from the baking soda box, and find your legs feel like rubber. Your lungs burn from the constant panting. Everything you see is stars from sheer exhaustion...but you still manage to say it loud and proud.
"TIME!" Then, you fall to your knees, panting and soaked in sweat.
"20 seconds! A new record!" Lily cheers, pumping a fist in the air. She gives Marsha a smug grin. "Told you having Slick help with the dry ingredients would be faster. 20 seconds to get them all measured and mixed in, against your two minutes? That's five times faster! He'll save your wide behind when Lisa and my nieces visit, count on it."
"That IS fast," Marsha admits, "But I still say it's silly--I can mix and measure the dry ingredients just fine by myself without this 'cookie run' of yours." You roll your head to the side and see her put the dough in a nearby stand mixer, pouring in a bag of chocolate chips. She reaches out and gently picks you up, caressing your head with a giant finger. "And besides, it's so hard on poor Slick..." she coos, petting you with her free hand.
Lily leans in, "Ah, he's a trooper. Besides, it helps him stay in shape. But you're right: I'm pushing him too hard. Slick, you're getting a three-day vacation. Just keep doing your cardio and we'll lay off the practice runs; you've got this down pat anyway."
You finally catch your breath. "Thanks...I did my best."
Marsha brought you to her face and gave you a kiss, purring like a jet engine. "You're amazing, Slick." Her rough feline tougue, like a giant sheet of wet sandpaper, tickled your face for a second as she licked you. "Even a giant like me couldn't have done it that fast."
"Think he'd be a help at work?" Lily asks.
"No way!" Marsha's eyes were wide and she held you close to her chest. "He's already been through enough today. And the bakery is adventure enough for Slick when he's riding in my apron's pouch--a busy kitchen, with orders coming in one after the other? The last place he needs to be is on the counter. Besides, Helen already doesn't like it when I bring Slick to work, unless we're just doing paperwork."
"Pfft, Miss Stripes is just uptight."
Helen was Marsha's business partner at the bakery she ran. She was a zebra and a bit of a neat-freak. (An odd quirk for someone who worked in a kitchen) She didn't like the tiny footprints you left on the kitchen equipment, but tolerated you for Marsha's sake. You'd also given her a hoof massage once, when she came to the book club meetings Marsha also attended.The zebra giantess had loved it and had even been a little more courteous toward you.
Marsha rolled her eyes and--
GLRRRRGLE...
The horrid groan fills the air and all three of you flinch. It's still echoing off the walls when you recover.
Marsha's stomach had growled.
"Guess it's breakfast time," Lily announces. "You get started, I'll get Slick freshened up. Little guy worked up a helluva sweat, and he needs to get clean."
Marsha drops you into Lily's hand, and the latter makes her way out of the kitchen. You're soaked in sweat, but did it smell THAT bad...? You give yourself a sniff...and immediately regret it, gagging and retching.
Lily giggles. "Yikes, we might need to use some extra soap!"
===
After a shower in the bathroom sink some fresh clothes, the three of you sit down for breakfast. Marsha made pancakes and eggs--the flapjacks were thin and crispy around the edges, just the way you liked. She'd even put peanut butter and jelly on them: your favorite toppings. You hug her plump belly when she sits down and thank her before digging in (you ate your food off a tiny plate Lily found at a pet store).
"So, what're we doing today?" Lily asks conversationally, pouring ketchup on her scrambled eggs. Satisfied with her topping, she digs in. "Slick outdid himself today, and I think he earned an extra day out this week." She leans down and bumps noses with you.
You beam. "Yes! Thank you, Mistresses!" A few times a week Marsha or Lily would take you with them when they left the house--to work, to buy groceries, or to something special: Just last night they saw a fox comedian at a club uptown. His jokes had been full of swearing, were incredibly crude, and clearly offended a few audience members enough to make them storm out...and you had loved every minute of it. You laughed yourself hoarse and nearly fell out of Lily's pocket. The fox's bit about a seagull taxi driver smuggling drugs in his beak was the highlight of the night--you knew it would have you falling asleep laughing for weeks.
Marsha consults a little black book, thumbing through its calendar. "Hmm... The bakery has some cake orders to work on today. As for you, Lily, you've got a game to coach today. Guess he'd just be going to work with one of us. Speaking of the game, who's hired you this time?"
"Red Wing Academy--that all-girls' private school downtown." Lily supplies, slicing into her pancakes. "They're playing some prep school upstate. Parents are mostly gonna ignore the game and brag about how rich they are." Lily snorted. "A shame, these girls are talented: the cow, Monique, has magic hooves: she can kick the ball so it CURVES into the goal clear past the goalie. She's gonna go pro, count on it. Sound like fun, Slick? You love watching soccer on TV, why not see a real game?"
Marsha titters and looks worried. "Are you sure that's safe? Kids these days are rough with humans. One of those girls might eat him!"
"I know how to keep him hidden, honey, Lily says, putting her hand on Marsha's. "He'll be safe in my purse, just like every time I take him out: the girls can't just pick him up. Anyway--" Lily takes a big bite of pancakes, wiping syrup off her mouth, "--the school banned eating humans during games. Apparently they give you leg cramps if you eat them before doing something athletic." She coughs and looks at you awkwardly. "Er, no offense, Slick."
"None taken, Mistress." You meant it.
"Of course, I wouldn't know that," Lily adds quickly. "But it's what the experts say: no 'special snacks' before a game." She hesitated on "before", and you winced at the implications of what the teams would eat AFTER the game.
Marsha had already sworn off humans when you first met five years ago...but only for health reasons. She'd been honest and told you she'd had quite the appetite for humans in her younger days. Lily for her part still ate the occasional human as a treat, but NEVER at home, and you knew she wouldn't even THINK of eating you. She avoided mentioning eating humans whenever possible, but it still came up now and again. Thankfully you'd all learned to keep it out of mind. You take a bite of jelly-covered pancakes to distract yourself.
"Of course, there is the bakery," Marsha adds primly: you and Lily both give her grateful smiles for changing the subject. "No rich teenage girls there to whine about not getting a second car..."
"'But Daddy, convertibles are in this year!'"~ Lily chimes in, her voice shrill and whiny. '"If I don't have a convertible, I'll be...so BASIC!'" She laughs, her fangs showing. "I swear I've heard that from them," she says in her normal voice. "And that's not half as bad as when they have to take a bus..."
"--but he'd still have to be careful in the kitchen." Marsha finishes, rolling her eyes and laughing. "Still, I suppose both beat being stuck alone in the house all day, even with the risks. So what will it be, Slick?"
You hesitate. Both their jobs had dangers for a human, but your mistresses always kept you safe when they went out.
Teenage anthros, let alone all of them being girls, had their own perils. But you loved watching soccer with Lily, and it was a chance to get out of the house. It had been days since you'd gone outside...
On the other hand, Marsha's bakery business was more laid-back, with less chance of getting You'd even be mostly unseen by the customers since you were in the kitchen, and Helen could be trusted not to eat you...but, a frantic kitchen with lots of ovens and machinery was a hazard zone for a careless or distracted anthro, let alone a tiny human.
The leopards leaned in expectantly, waiting on you.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
