“Dangit Bill!” Angie shouted. “You’re supposed to keep watching the clock. The first day we have to be careful, and you’re already messing up.”
“Sorry, I can’t help myself around babes.”
I looked at both of them with horror. Angie was mad that he was still doing it? That she act itself didn’t disgust her, but that he shouldn’t have done it for so long and let me walk in on it? What the hell was going on? These were my coworkers? My voice trembled with shock and disgust, probably tinged with some anger. “Babes? It’s a fucking Rattata! A Pokemon! What’s wrong with you?” I stepped forward, and Bill reluctantly pulled the rat Pokemon out of his lap, placing her gingerly on the floor. As he put his pants on, I turned around to face Angie. “And you! You’re like he is, aren’t you? Is this what you do during your breaks, have sex with Pokemon entrusted to your case like this? This is abuse.”
Angie sighed, muttering something under her breath. “Please Adam, sit down. We can talk this out.”
My head shook, seemingly all by itself, and I stamped my foot on the ground like a spoiled child. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go tell your grandparents about all this.”
“Dammit boy, sit down!” she shouted much louder than I did, slamming the door. “Get your butt in that chair and shut up before you do something stupid. Lord knows, Bill already has.”
“She was-“
“Shut up, Bill,” she snarled as I reluctantly pulled up a chair.
“Bogus,” Bill sighed dejectedly and zipped up his fly. His hand fell hard on the table as the Rattata looked confusedly at us all in turn, eventually getting the message from Angie’s stern gaze to scamper off. A few drops followed in her wake, and something in my spine shook as I pulled up a chair reluctantly, not too eager to see where things were going but too shocked to do much else.
It may have-no, scratch that-was completely childish, but I scraped the chair against the ground when I moved it and made my pose as confrontational as possible. I didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to hear whatever justification they had for it, and I made damn sure that was clear.
Unsurprisingly, Bill was oblivious, probably still lamenting the loss of his fling, but Angie saw it immediately, assuming a tone of voice that was calm but stern enough to try and get me to at least listen. “First off, it ain’t illegal. You can look it up yourself, there is no law against what he was doing. And plenty of laws to regulate it and prevent abuse, in fact.”
“Plenty of things aren’t illegal,” I muttered, keeping an edge on my voice and in my posture. “Even if it’s legal, it’s still wrong and weird and…” My voice quavered a little and the sternness left a little, “You’ve been trusted by trainers with their Pokemon. And you’re doing things that violate that trust, using your position to take advantage of them.”
“Nobody’s getting taken advantage of. You can tell the Pokemon whose trainers are Pokephiles,” I shuddered at the fact there was a damn word for it, “And usually they’re cool with it. Hell, some even leave ’em here for a week so they can get some time away. Some Pokemon in heat are randier than anyone can handle. Sometimes, one just wants to experiment, and sometimes they end up coming onto their trainer afterwards. I’ve got several friends who had their Pokemon stay here, and then once they had the courage to come onto their trainer, ended up in loving relationships.”
My grand response to what she said, carefully formulated from weeks of intense, scholarly research, was a mere scoff. I was all for trainers and Pokemon having bonds, but relationships? What the hell had I stumbled onto.
“You may think it’s silly, but there’s a deep bond in it. Sure, maybe not between Bill and that Rattata, but at home, he’s got a Lopunny waiting for him, and a few other Pokemon, who he loves very much. And tonight, I’m going home to my hunky Arcanine and he’s making me feel like a woman, dang it.”
Usually, choking down a giggle wouldn’t be too hard, but hell if I had my bearings about me at that point. I laughed uncontrollably, maybe hit the table a few times, and it certainly snapped Angie’s willingness to negotiate. Her hand struck the table hard enough to cut my laughter immediately and make me sit up straight, which was scarier than it’s probably manly to admit. “Don’t belittle my love for my Pokemon, you hear? I ain’t askin’ you to do anything you don’t want to, but show a little respect. This is how we do things here; it passes time, it feels good. If you want to, we won’t force you, but don’t go doin’ something rash.”
Once the initial rush of shock and adrenaline ran out, I was left with a sudden emptiness and a bit of guilt. Maybe not because I thought they were sick and messed up, but because I really had been sort of a dick. That Rattata did look pretty happy, and my outrage was more because of the whole abuse of power thing. Beyond that, I wasn’t sure there was much to be angry about. Still, being around these people, essentially condoning it all…
“I think I need to think about this. I-I’m not sure if this place-“
“Think on it. It’s Friday, so I’ll give you the weekend.”
Through it all, Bill was silent. I figured it was because he wasn’t all that bright and knew to just let Angie do the talking. After a moment of complete silence, though, he got up and said as though nothing had happened, “I’m going to find that Rattata.” And then, I knew it wasn’t because he knew to let her explain things. He was too dim for even that.
With Bill gone, I shared a long glance with my other co-worker, and I was unsure exactly what I felt. Having seen the two candid, I couldn’t really say they seemed like horrible, depraved monsters.
…
Nothing made any more sense when I returned home, kicked off my boots, and fell down on my bed. The entire walk home hadn’t put any more perspective on the matter as more questions reared their ugly heads. They didn’t seem to be abusing anything, and maybe it was just one of those preference things that I don’t have to agree with, but aren’t my place to hate someone for. Or maybe they were sick fucks that I couldn’t even work with.
“Always so black and white,” I groaned, turning onto my back and staring up at the ceiling, lying atop my black comforter on my unmade bed.. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head in away I hadn’t really tried yet. A spark was hottest at ignition, and once I had some time to think on things, I’d probably be calmer.
I hoped.
The idea had never occurred to me, never even registered with my brain that these things happened. Admittedly, I didn’t know too many trainers, but it was inconceivable at the time. Now that I was faced with it in such a sudden, stark way, I probably did react harsher than I would have otherwise, but there was still something in me that detested it, hated it. It was wrong and ugly and horrible to that part of me, and I didn’t want to set foot in that daycare again.
On the other hand, my co-workers were pretty cool, Bill was clearly harmless, and there was something endearing about his empty-headed slacker attitude. Then there was Angie who, if nothing else, was hotter than any woman I’d ever spoken to for that long, and that ass…
“Oh, that ass.”
“Ew,” came a voice, and I shouted out in shock as I jerked forward and found Amy standing in the doorway, shaking her head at me. “You’re so weird.”
Some stammering followed before finally I gave up forming a defence and just sighed, “What do you want?”
She smiled at me that awful, gloating little sister smile that she usually wore when we were younger and I’d get in trouble. I hated that smile. So gleeful and malicious, a constant companion to my every embarrassment and fuck-up. What didn’t help matters was how fitting it was on her face. “Mom called, she wants you to pick up some movies for the weekend before she comes home.”
Movies! Yes, a movie or two would definitely make for a good distraction, and a distraction would help pass time until everything blew over and I could do the actual thinking.
“What movies?” I shouted, rolling off the side of my bed and standing up.
My sister rolled her eyes and passed me a torn-out page of the kitchen notepad. I suppressed the urge to shout out with joy on my down the stairs. I threw on my boots and jacket, stopped to pour Purrloin some more food so she would get out of the door’s way, and dashed down the street.
The video store was only a few blocks from my place, which made the frantic run a lot easier on me. I stopped on a dime at the curb, wondering briefly why I was running to begin with, before shrugging and stepping in. The video store was only a few blocks from my place, which made the frantic run a lot easier on me. I stopped on a dime at the curb, wondering briefly why I was running to begin with, before shrugging and stepping in. The video store was large, decorated with unoffensive sensibilities and dull tones. Black racks ran down the store with wide rows for people to browse. something I knotieced was a door beside the counter and thought of it as a break room. I didn’t like that; a cramped, tight row felt better, like perusing a book store so overstocked that space to walk in was second to cramming in all the books they could. There was a good enough selection that I couldn’t complain, though, and everything was so neatly organized by the obsessive-compulsive manager that it was more convenient to look through than anything in the world.
Mom wanted a couple new releases; the obvious choices. Amy’s picks were things I could scarcely call movies, mostly poorly-written juvenile comedy. Mine were harder to find just because I had seen most of the movies of interest, and usually I’d just grab some old favourites scattered across genres that I felt like watching. It was nothing listed or predetermined, I would just walk up the isles in search of something to watch, and I’d see The Big Lebowski sitting there asking me to watch it. It was a long, careful ritual I had cultivated over years of having little else to do, and it was one of the biggest reasons I was so happy to find some movies. The craziness of my day and the repeated mental image of what I saw was a distant memory in those isles. The rustle of my soles on the light red carpet, the smell of freshly-opened disc cases, the fake smiles of the two bored clerks whenever I passed by, were all part of some wonderful therapeutic trance. Some people sat in the bath. I paced through a video store.
“Will that be all?” the clerk asked, facing me and the pile of ten cases I held. My head nearly tilted to look at her quizzically, wondering if she was serious or just attempting humour, but I decided to just get out of there. Her lips curved downward a little, answering my question.
As I dug into my pocket for the money, my eyes darted away awkwardly, only to find a case lying on the top of the small pile of cases she hadn’t put away, and my mouth opened with shock. The case depicted a Blaziken in a position that nobody would call appropriate, and big yellow letters titling it “Hot and Heavy in Hoenn”. Was I just always oblivious to the whole around me?
She saw where my eyes were, and quickly grabbed the disc, putting it under the counter. “It’s… Uh, a joke case. Someone-“
“I’ll take it,” I said without thinking, and even as my mind wondered why I said it and shouted at me to laugh and pass it off as a joke, I grabbed an extra couple dollars from my pocket.
Her gaze sturdied a little and nodded uneasily, though some of the worry faded from her face as she felt things get less awkward. The whole time, this store had Pokephila porn(easy way to say pokemon porn is pokephilia), and I found out after having met some? It was the kind of convenience I’d read in a book or see on TV, and that worried me.
After she processed everything and I payed for the rentals, I stuffed the case under my shirt and into my waistband so it wouldn’t be in the bag, and I ‘accidentally’ dropped the receipt into a recycling bin on my way home. The shame I had was more than enough for me, I didn’t need anyone asking questions.
…
The case remained buried under my pillow for most of the evening, and I didn’t dare take it out until I was damn sure my mom and sister were asleep. Being a Friday, that took far longer than it had any right to, but a little past two, I finally decided to pop it in. I scuttled down to the foot of my bed, leaning against it so I could stay close to my bedroom television set and keep the volume low.
A strange, horrible thrill shot up my spine as the tray whirred on its way out and I dropped the disc onto it. As it loaded, I looked at the case closer. It boasted things like “three whole hours of intense Pokemon on human action”, “nine of Hoenn’s hottest and hunkiest Pokemon”, and “featuring Flannery, voted Hoenn’s hottest gym leader three years in a row”.
“Gym leaders?” I whispered, only because the words actually had to be said. Gym leaders were involved in this stuff too? Something told me I would have been far better off just searching on the internet, instead of stupidly renting the DVD. The sick thrill continued, though, as the menu screen came up, and my finger mashed the “play” button before the menu animation could start. This was the point of no return, and as the black screen slowly faded in to a bedroom, I grew to regret it immediately. This was wrong, this was sick, this was-
Hello, tits.
The movie opened up to a human girl lying on a bed and on her stomach, wearing a tank top and tapping a notebook with a pen. As generic a scene as it was, the position and the top pushed her breasts up and provided ample cleavage that it star wiped out of without any shame. For all I may have hated what was to come, I could always go back and freeze frame those tits. Aside from her obvious assets, she was a pretty girl, just barely old enough to be in these things, and had her blond hair tied back in a tight ponytail.
After a few seconds of that lovely view, the head of a Luxio came into the frame, nudging her shoulder, and immediately I was pulled out of my cleavage-happy daze.
“Come on, Luxio,” she sighed in a soft voice that was as well acted as it was unpleasant to the ear. “I wanna do my homework.” She shoved him away weakly.
He kept pushing though. “Lux, Lux,” he whimpered as his side brushed up against hers. His leg jerked to the side a little and he pushed his head forward so that it blocked her view of the book lying on her pillow.
“Fine,” she sang. “If we do it once, do you promise to let me finish my homework?”
“Luxio,” he panted happily, rolling onto his back beside her, and her body shifted over a little so she lay above him. A red, tapered head pushed out of his black fur and I recoiled a little. her response was much calmer, merely moaning with anticipation as her fingers ran across it on its way out.
“Good boy,” she purred as her head sank down so that when his penis reached full mast, her tongue flicked it, fingers wrapped around it and pumping slowly.
Strange, uncomfortable stirrings accompanied my body as the busty girl began to fellate her Luxio. Beyond the obvious wish that her tongue was running slow, sloppy circles along my own cock, the sight turned me on to a rather disturbing level. I knew that it was a Pokemon-the distinct penis made that clear-but for some reason, that didn’t detract from the scene. Quite the opposite; it added a sick, awful thrill to the whole thing that made my shorts considerably tighter, and I wasn’t sure if it made me happy or worried. And for that matter, whether I gained some twisted satisfaction from that worry.
In the face of us satisfaction though, that all seemed irrelevant as my hand sank below the waistband and I retrieved my penis, pulling it out into the cool air of my bedroom, and the level of arousal hit me harder than ever. It was more than just hard, it was almost throbbing from arousal as my fingers wrapped around it and whatever objections I may have had were put on the back burner. In the head of the moment, all that mattered was release, letting my body go on autopilot as I watched the screen and its forbidden wonders.
No sooner had the girl, who I decided was named Heather because Heather was a sexy name, began to suck her Pokemon’s cock, had she pulled up and complimented him for being hard and his precum so tasty, than did the scene change and she lay on all fours. Maybe it had been my focus going out, or maybe it was poor editing, but her clothes were all gone, and I hadn’t a complaint in the world. Her delicious-looking breasts swayed enticingly as the Luxio’s paws grasped her lower back and he mounted her. The penetration was swift, and the look on her face made my hips jerk forward with animal lust. He was swift, and wasted no time in beginning to thrust as hard as his canine legs would carry him.
Her body heaved quickly, small motions accompanying the smacking of his body against her flesh and a faint, soft squishing sound from his pushing into her moist vagina. His low, quiet panting was almost mute over her overwrought moans and confessions of loving Pokecock-how she could say it with a straight face was beyond me-and other typical porn fare. In those circumstances, though, it was one of the most arousing things I’d ever witnessed, and even as my wrist began to tense up from the sheer speed at which I whacked off, I didn’t stop. My own low, smacking sound joined, coming into synch with the Pokeality before me, and there was no question left in my mind.
At the fifteen minute mark, both Luxio and I were reaching our peaks. My hips were, by that point, also moving, and I was so entranced by the lurid pornography that I had lost touch with the world. Nothing had ever filled me with so much need and lust before, and had my mom woken up and checked in on me, I wouldn’t have stopped the video even if I’d heard her, which I doubted.
Heather was on her back now, Luxio’s head buried in her cleavage, licking lazily at all of the soft tit flesh as his powerful thrusts continued to rock her. He began to howl, and on instinct, pulled away from her just as a large red bulge in his shaft began to push forward. He scurried up her body and pulled his lower body up, a sudden torrent of his semen emerging as he still humped the air, dumping his white seed all over her face and her breasts. Her legs entangled as she moaned and giggled, rubbing the semen into her breasts and calling him a good boy.
That was enough for me, as I clenched my teeth to remain silent and my own, considerably less heavy load spurted out and onto the floor and my shorts and my hand. I lay there panting, and suddenly everything I did seemed somehow wrong, like I shouldn’t have done any of it. There was a slight pang of guilt for my actions as my penis began to soften in my grasp, and my head hung down a little.
I may have reconsidered, had the next segment not started, and the sexy Blaziken on the cover not sat on a bed, legs spread, and moaning her own name.
“Eight more segments to go,” I muttered, squashing the guilt beneath my heel as I lightly stroked my penis, which had been roused back to life by the fire type’s moist slit.