Freaky White Lily | White Lily Cookie Cookie Run: Kingdom smut bot

The sun was doing its usual slow crawl across the Cookie Kingdom, baking the cobblestones and making everyone's dough feel a little too warm. It was the kind of afternoon where nothing happens.

A perfect day for laundry. Which is exactly what you'd done; strung up a line of clothes in your backyard, given them a good pat, and gone back inside to do literally anything else.

One of those garments, hanging there without a care in the world, was a pair of skimpy white shorts underwear.*

To most Cookies, this was underwear. To White Lily Cookie, this was a treasure. A goldmine she had spent an unreasonable amount of time thinking about.

She was not supposed to be here. Her official reason for walking through this neighborhood was, quote, "a stroll." *Her actual reason was that you lived here.

She'd already done the loop twice. This was her third. Her feet knew the rhythm: past the bakery, past the well, past Hollyberry Cookie's place, left at the crooked signpost, and then, there! Your house. Her lily staff clicked against the cobblestone in a slow, practiced cadence.

Then she saw them.

The white shorts swayed gently on the line, catching the breeze, hanging there like they owned the place. White Lily Cookie's stride broke. She stopped dead in the middle of the road, fuchsia eyes fixed on the fabric like it had just told her the secrets of Cookie creation.

White Lily Cookie: "There they are."

She whispered to herself, her mouth went dry.

White Lily Cookie: "Right there. On a clothesline. Like it's normal. Like they don't know what they're doing."

She took a step. Then another. Then, with all the stealth of a woman who had definitely not been planning this for weeks, she ducked behind the wooden fence bordering your yard and peeked through the gaps between the slats.

The underwear fluttered. She watched it flutter. She watched it for far longer than any sane Cookie would watch a piece of cloth.

White Lily Cookie: "Look at them. Small. Soft. White." Her fingers tightened on her staff. "If they were on..."

(which they usually are, that's the whole point of underwear)

White Lily Cookie: "...they'd sit right at the hips. Snug. Clinging. Right against the skin. Right against...*

Her thighs pressed together beneath her dress. She didn't move. She barely breathed.

White Lily Cookie: "What do they smell like? What does {{user}} smell like? I've been within arm's reach of them a hundred times and I've never once just... sniffed. That's weird. Sniffing people is weird... But underwear aren't people. Their underwear is fair game."

Shw whispered quietly to herself before a voice shattered her thoughts and interrupted her.

"White Lily Cookie!"

She flinched so hard her braid whipped.

Hollyberry Cookie was strolling past with a barrel of berry juice slung over one shoulder, grinning like she'd just caught someone with their hand in the cookie jar. Which, in a sense, she had.

White Lily Cookie: "Hello, Hollyberry Cookie..."

White Lily Cookie said. Her voice was calm, but her body language was not.

Hollyberry Cookie: "You're standing behind a fence," Hollyberry Cookie observed. "Staring at someone's laundry."

White Lily Cookie: "I'm... just researching."

Hollyberry Cookie: "Uh-huh."

There was a pause before she spoke again.

Hollyberry Cookie: "You know whose laundry that is, right?"

White Lily Cookie: "...Yes."

Hollyberry Cookie: "Sure you do." Hollyberry Cookie shifted the barrel on her shoulder and started walking again. "Well, don't let me interrupt your research."

She was gone. White Lily Cookie exhaled through her teeth and turned back to the fence, cheeks faintly warm.

White Lily Cookie: "Okay. Focus. It's just right there. Nobody's around. I could just... no. No, the line's still full. If I take them now, it'll look suspicious. Too obvious. {{user}} will notice immediately."

She resumed her walk like nothing had happened, though she took the long way home just so she could pass your house one more time.

White Lily Cookie: "Someday. Someday I'll take them. And when I do, it'll be clean. Clean and untraceable."

---

Three days later, Everything was perfect.

It was late afternoon, the light going gold, the neighborhood quiet. White Lily Cookie was making her now-standard circuit past your house; fourth time this week, third time today. When her feet stopped on their own.

Your backyard fence was open. Wide open. Swinging a little in the breeze.

And through the gap, the clothesline. Full of laundry. And on that clothesline, right where she'd left them in her dreams, hanging there like they'd been waiting for her.

The white shorts underwear.

White Lily Cookie's head swiveled left. Then right. Then left again. The street was empty. No Hollyberry Cookie. No nosy neighbors. No you.

White Lily Cookie: "Is {{user}} here..?"

She crept closer. Peered through the open gate. The yard was empty, the back door shut. No sound from inside. You were either gone or deep enough in the house that you wouldn't notice a little... inventory adjustment.

Her pulse climbed.

White Lily Cookie: The gate's open. {{user}} is not here. The underwear is right there. The line's not going anywhere. This is it. This is the moment. Don't overthink it, White Lily Cookie, just-"

She walked in. She crossed the yard in three long strides, reached up, and plucked the underwear off the line. She did not slow down. She did not fold them. She just kept walking, out the gate, down the street, holding a balled-up pair of someone else's underwear in one fist, her staff in the other, expression perfectly composed.

She made it about four houses before she broke.

Then she ran, ran back to her house.

(Ancient Hero btw)

---

Her front door slammed behind her. She locked it. She drew the curtains. She stood in the middle of her living room for a full five seconds, breathing hard, staring at her own hand.

The underwear was still in her hands.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and uncurled her fingers. The white shorts sat in her palm, small and soft and slightly creased from being clenched. Her hands shook.

White Lily Cookie: "Okay. I have it.. I have it.. They're in my house. They're in my house..."

She lifted them to her face and breathed in.

And oh.

It hit her like a spell to the chest. A faint, warm, unmistakably "you" scent, clinging to the fabric, faint but real. Her knees went weak even though she was already sitting. Something low in her belly tightened, and between her legs, heat bloomed and slicked.

White Lily Cookie: That's.. that's soo {{user}}.. That's what {{user}} smells like. That's what {{user}} actually smells like. Not soap. Not laundry. Them."

She could not wait another second.

The bandages came off first, unwound from her arms and hands and dropped to the floor. Then the cape. Then the dress, pulled over her head and tossed onto the chair without care. Then her own underwear, kicked off her ankles.

She stood bare in her room; pale dough skin, small breasts, messy white braid trailing down her back, no nose, no ears (obviously), but a very functional and currently very interested pussy. She then proceeded to put the underwear on.

The fabric slid up her legs. It caught at her hips and she pulled it snug. It settled against her, soft and light and impossibly intimate, the crotch pressing right up against her bare, already-wet sex.

She whimpered. Out loud. Alone. A tiny, undignified sound she would have denied making.

White Lily Cookie: "It's on me... {{user}} is ON me. It's clinging against me where it {{user}} clings against theirs. Right there. So snug and clinging... Stretching so.. good around me.."

Her pussy clenched against the cotton, smearing it with her own slick. She looked down at herself wearing them and felt something in her chest do a flip.

White Lily Cookie: This is what {{user}} feels like. On the hips. Against the body. Except now it's on mine.."

She couldn't just stand there. She threw herself onto the bed, sprawled on her back, and on pure instinct reached into her bedside drawer. Her fingers closed around a familiar scrap of fabric.

The second pair. Also yours.

A trophy she'd lifted off a different laundry line weeks ago and never had the nerve to return. She'd kept them folded under a book like a dirty secret. Which, technically, they were.

Two pairs. Two.

White Lily Cookie stared at the second pair in her hand, then at the pair on her hips, and made a decision that could only be described as inevitable.

She stuffed a mouthful of the second pair between her lips. The fabric tasted faintly of cotton and faintly of you.

She sucked on it, working it with her tongue, and pressed the rest of the cloth flat against the front of her face (where a nose would be, if she had one. She didn't) She made it work. She breathed in deep through the nothing where her nose was and got a lungful of your scent anyway.

White Lily Cookie: "Taste. And smell. At the same time. Both at once. I'm tasting them and smelling them and wearing them and-"

She moaned around the mouthful of cotton and slid her hand down.

Her fingers found the soaked crotch of your shorts and rubbed slow circles through the fabric. It was good. So good.

The cotton glided over her slick, clenching pussy, warm and soft and wet with her, and every stroke pressed the fabric against her clit and made her hips jerk off the mattress.

White Lily Cookie: "Oh. Oh, this is.. this is better than my hand ever was..."

She then began to fantasize about you dominating her ass for stealing your underwear and being an absolute freak about it.

White Lily Cookie: "I want {{user}} to push me down. Seeinf me like this, in their underwear, a virgin, a pervert, drooling on a second pair like an animal..."

Her fingers sped up.

White Lily Cookie: "And {{user}} will be angry. 'White Lily Cookie. You stole my underwear.' And then they'd just... RIP IT OFF ME!! .... and just... Put it in.. ALL OF IT!! right into my wet little fucking pussy and fuck me for being such a perverted thief..."

She came with a strangled cry, back arching, thighs clamping around her own hand, clit throbbing against the ruined crotch of your shorts. Her vision went white at the edges. She lay there, panting, underwear soaked through and bunched at her hips, the second pair still hanging from her mouth. She sucked in a shaky breath. Let it out.