Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hey there! Thanks for clicking on this little idea I had. I know AI gets a bad rep, and for valid reasons- We don't want it stealing anybody's jobs, after all- But for little mini-projects like this one, it's a handy tool to get some new stuff out there that doesn't exist already. Obviously, if it were written wholly by a human being, the quality would definitely be higher... But that's where I come in!

Here's how this will work: Pop your ideas in Chapter 1's Comment section, I create a plot around it, I guide the AI as it puts it to words, and I finish it off by going through and giving the writing some actual personality.

The Rules:

• No Gore, Snuff, Amputation, Inflation, or Death of any kind (they're just not my thing)
  
  
• No Pokemon-Rule-Everything worlds (example: Pokemon own humans instead of humans owning Pokemon)
  
  
• No stuff from the Pokemon Anime, since I haven't seen it and have no plans to (sorry Anime fans!)
  
  
• No Male/Male sex or Female/Female sex- Platonic stuff is fine (and so is futanari!) (Clarification about this rule below)
  
  
• No Transformation (This is about humans, guys, kinda misses the point...?)

• No Anthropomorphic versions of quadruped Pokemon (Already-humanoid Pokemon like Gardevoir or Lucario are fair game, and even encouraged)

• Please give prompts that focus on the Role-Reversal aspect of the collection (humans being caught and trained)

Other than the above, everything else is fair game, including Non-Con, Underage, and the like! (Unless I forgot something...)

Things I'm a particularly big fan of are Big-Dom/Small Sub and Petplay and I prefer human females over human males- But that doesn't mean ideas that don't contain those are guaranteed to be denied! Just less likely. If you want to see something with a human male, make 'em a femboy- That'll get my attention!

Below are the formats for character and plot submitting! Note that these don't have to be directly duplicated, you can format your prompt in any way, but this the best way to include everything necessary. You're allowed to submit multiple prompts, but you're less likely to get accepted in favor of a different person's first prompt.

Here's how you'll submit Prompts:

-Desired Name for the story (pointless, but fun!)
   -Desired Rating: (General, Teen, Mature, or Explicit)
   -Desired Tone: (Serious, Humorous, Self-aware, Casual, etc.)
   -Desired Focus: (If this is M or E, put the kinks you want here)
   -Things to Avoid: (THIS IS PRETTY DARN IMPORTANT)

Write your idea here, using as much or as little detail as you'd like. This can be anything from a simple "Make the characters have this relationship" to an entire summary of the story with a beginning and ending! Anything you don't add will be up to the me (and maybe the AI), so be careful to include everything you want to.

Here's how you'll submit Characters:

-Name/Species: (Character's Name and/or Species)
   -Personality: (Five words that describe their personality)
   -Design: (Five words that describe their looks)
   -Age: (Character's age, only for humans unless specified)
   -Gender: (Character's Gender, Male, Female, or Futanari)

 ^^^
Repeat the above for each character you want to include!

Any content warnings for a specific Prompt will be put in the Author's Notes at the start of the story. Also, unless asked to be Anonymous, I'll give credit the one who posted the comment.

A VERY IMPORTANT SECTION ABOUT AI ART:

I will NOT, under ANY circumstances, be putting any AI-generated art anywhere in this project. This work is not meant to be a replacement for any type of fanfic like this, but rather, more of an experiment or game. So, I'll be avoiding AI art out of respect to the artists who pour a lot of time and money into their work.

And, with that... I believe that's all! I look forward to seeing what you guys all cook up for me. I won't be doing everything that's submitted, but I'll be doing most of the ones that catch my fancy, so shoot whatever is you desire into that comment section!

Chapter Text

Akari liked to think she'd handled her new situation pretty well, all things considered. Time travel was usually the type of thing that showed up in fiction, with people meeting Legendary Pokemon and being picked for some sort of grand purpose- Unlike Akari, who had just been dumped back in time for seemingly no reason.

But hey- She'd always been good at taking things in stride. She had her own house now, which was pretty crazy. And all she had to do was throw herself into the wilderness and put herself at risk of being mauled by Wild Pokemon! Which was something she'd always wanted to do anyway, so, win-win, right?

Case in point: the huge Alpha Kangaskhan that had taken up residence in the Coronet Highlands, eyes glowing red with ferocious might.

It was kind of funny, if you thought about it that way. Akari had been terrified the first time she'd encountered an Alpha, but nowadays, they were pretty standard. The baby also having red eyes was pretty funny, though.

Akari tiptoed through the tall grass, her heart as calm as ever. They didn't seem to have noticed her, which was good- This was going to be tricky. She had a plan... Sort of. It was the plan she used for every Pokemon, but hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

All she had to do was get within range behind them without spooking them...

Akari took a deep breath and began her slow, painstaking approach. The sun was setting, casting the highlands in a warm orange glow that made the mother Kangaskhan's leathery skin look like it was on fire. The baby, with its little paws and stubby tail, was frolicking around its mother, completely oblivious to the human lurking nearby. (Though 'little' was a bit of a misnomer, given it was nearly as big as her...)

Akari kind of felt like a ninja every time she did this, except her ninja suit was a bit too colorful and definitely didn't blend with the grass.

"Alright, Kangaskhan, don't mind me," she whispered to herself, "I'm just here to borrow your baby for a bit. You know, for science." She held her Pokéball out, finger poised over the button, ready to throw...

But apparently, the baby had other plans. It looked up from the little rocks it had been playing with, spotted Akari, and leapt up, letting out a loud cry of "Kang!" To its mother.

Kangaskhan's head swiveled around like it had a spring in its neck, and she locked eyes with Akari. It kind of reminded her of that time her friend's mom caught her with her hand in the cookie jar, except significantly more murderous.

"Oh, crap," Akari murmured, noticing the mother's stern look. She had to catch the kid and run!

Her arm whipped back and the Pokéball shot through the air like a glittering meteor aimed at the unsuspecting baby, but its mother wasn't going to let that happen. In a move that would put plenty of modern-day athletes to shame, Kangaskhan caught the ball in mid-air with one paw, her eyes never leaving Akari's.

...That's not how this usually goes, Akari thought to herself, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. The mother, still not breaking eye contact, tossed the Pokéball back at Akari with the same ease as if it were a tiny berry. It hurtled through the air like it had a vendetta, and Akari was kind of ashamed at how badly she froze.

But what happened next was even more bizarre. The ball hit her in the chest, but instead of bouncing off, the ball opened, and with a flash of red light and a familiar *click!*, the Pokeball opened...

...And then everything went dark.

Kangaskhan watched the human with mild amusement, her tail flicking idly behind her. This one was bold, she had to give her that. Most humans she'd encountered ran at the first sign of teeth, especially when those teeth were attached to an Alpha. But not this one. This one thought she could sneak up and swipe her baby. Classic.

But this? The human being the one getting pulled in? This was new. Kangaskhan couldn't help but give a little chuckle. Her daughter, though, looked just as shocked as the human had, her little paws covering her mouth, her usual reaction anything that surprised her.

"Khan, gas? (Mama, what happened to the human?)" Her daughter squealed, her eyes wide. The mother just shrugged. It wasn't like she had a manual for this sort of thing.

Her daughter cautiously approached the Pokeball, poking it with her paw. It smelled faintly of metal and apricorns... definitely not food. The human inside had gone quiet. Kangaskhan couldn't help but feel a bit smug; she'd seen humans mess up a lot and do some silly things, but none had ever ended up in their own Pokeball before. It was quite the sight.

Her daughter gave it a curious nudge, then another, and another. "Khan, kang? (What is it, Mama?)" she chirped, eager for answers. Kangaskhan looked on, bemused by the curiosity in her offspring's gaze.

With a final, decisive poke, the Pokeball cracked open. The human appeared in a flash of red light, then spilled out like a ragdoll, the wind knocked out of her. Her dark hair fanned out around her, and she lay there, eyes closed and unmoving. The mother Kangaskhan leaned over her, sniffing the air for signs of trouble, and found nothing- The human was unconscious.

But her daughter was already there, poking and prodding the girl with excitement. "Kang, kang! (Wake up, play with me!)" she squealed. It was clear her daughter had taken a liking to the human, which was surprising, to say the least. Usually, she was more keen on throwing rocks at humans than playing with them.

When the human failed to react, Kangaskhan stepped past her daughter and picked up the limp form of the human. "Khan, kangas kang? (Can I keep her?)" she asked, her voice full of hope. Kangaskhan considered it for a moment. Humans weren't dangerous on their own- only their interesting creations were. So, if she took away the human's things...

With a sigh, she nodded. "Ka, Kang. (Yes, but only if you promise to be careful.)" Her daughter's eyes lit up, and she took the human's hand, hanging down from her place in Kangaskhan's arms, in her paw- Which, being an Alpha, was almost as big as the human's.

"Kang, kang, gas! (Thank you, Mama!)", she exclaimed, her voice full of glee. Kangaskhan couldn't help but smile at her daughter's excitement. It was rare for her to show any interest in anything that didn't involve food or play.

But when her daughter tried to pull the human out of her arms, Kangaskhan quickly stepped back. "Khan! Kangas. (Hold on! I need to make sure she's not dangerous first.)"

Kangaskhan kneeled down and placed the human on the ground- Then, with surprising dexterity, she took off the human's bag, and started searching through the tiny fabric container.

The human had a bunch of... well, human stuff. Various chunks of ore and Apricorns, some more of those Pokeballs, some colorful stones... Her daughter looked on, fascinated by the treasure trove of, uh, junk.

Kangaskhan carefully picked through the bag, tossing aside the obviously dangerous items. There was a big pile of paper held together by metal rings; There was a bunch of stuff written on it in human language. Odd, but not harmful. Then she found the Potion bottles. They smelled faintly of berries and something else... something she couldn't quite place. Medicinal, she figured. Safe enough.

The human's clothes were a bit more concerning. They were flimsy and would never survive the wild. Plus, they were so... colorful. Who'd want to wear something that screamed 'Eat me!' to every predator around? So, careful not to hurt the human, she tore them off, one by one. Her daughter watched with wide eyes as the human was stripped down, allowing her to see what the human looked like without those fabrics covering her.

"Kang, gas? (Why'd you do that?)", she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Khan, gas kangas. (It's for her own good. She's going to stay here, and she can't go around dressed like that.)" Kangaskhan's voice was firm but gentle. She tossed the scraps of the human's clothes aside- Though, as she kind of expected, her daughter chased them down, looking like she wanted to play with them.

Kangaskhan sighed. She had a feeling this was going to be interesting. With a few more efficient movements, she had the human fully stripped of everything that wasn't her underclothes. The human looked so... fragile, lying there with only a hint of modesty from her second layer of fabrics that only covered her private areas- Kangaskhan couldn't help but be impressed with the ingenuity of wrapping fabric around her chest to support those two things mammals had on their chests.

Her daughter looked up at her, tail wagging. "Kang, kang? (What now?)", she asked, holding up one of the colorful strips of fabric the human had been wearing. Kangaskhan took it from her and tossed it aside with the rest of the clothes- She wasn't going to risk keeping those anywhere nearby. "Khan, kangas gas. (She's your pet now. Remember, you're in charge of taking care of her, alright?)" She gave a stern look at her daughter, making sure she knew that this wasn't just a new toy to break.

Her daughter squealed in excitement and nodded, her eyes lighting up. She took the human's hand again and tugged. "Kang! Kang! (Wake up, play with me!)", she chirped, her little tail smacking the ground like a drum...

Akari groaned as consciousness trickled back into her. Her eyes fluttered open to find herself staring up at the sky, the stars just beginning to wink into existence. She felt... odd. Wet grass under her bare skin, cool and damp. And what was that noise? It sounded like something was stomping the ground...

With a jolt, she realized it was a tail. A Kangaskhan tail. And she was pretty sure that tail belonged to the baby that had been playing with the rocks. Akari bolted upright, looking around frantically. The last thing she remembered was throwing the Pokéball and...

...Ah. Right. The Kangaskhan had caught her. Akari's mind raced as she took in her new, unfortunate situation. She was surrounded by the wilderness, stark naked except for her underwear, and in the 'care' of a creature that could crush her without breaking a sweat. Classic.

Speaking of, the creature in question- The Kangaskhan mom- was staring down at her with a look that could make a Garchomp apologize for breathing too loudly. Akari swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest like it was trying to break out and make a run for it. She'd been in a lot of scraps before, and had seen some pretty crazy things happen in her time in the past, but this really took the cake... Unfortunately.

"Well, that's just peachy," she murmured, her voice a bit hoarse from the surprise. "I go for a quiet hike, and I end up as a Pokémon's chew toy."

But the baby Kangaskhan wasn't biting her, or even trying to. It was just sitting there, looking at her with those big, adorable eyes, tail thumping away like it was trying to get her attention. It was like someone had swiped the 'fierce predator' sticker off and slapped on 'playful puppy' instead... Which was very weird to look at since it was nearly as tall as Akari was.

Akari tried to ignore the presence of the mom and took a deep breath, ignoring the way the wind blew over her nearly-naked body HEY WAIT A SECOND!

Her eyes widened as the reality of her situation hit her like a cold shower. She looked down at herself, and sure enough, she was dressed in nothing but her panties and the cut bedsheet she'd used as replacement for a bra, the fabric feeling ridiculously flimsy against her skin. "Oh, no, no, no, no," she murmured, a blush spreading across her cheeks like a wildfire as she slapped her hands over her chest and crotch. "This is not happening."

But it was. The baby Kangaskhan's eyes lit up with curiosity at Akari's sudden distress, and it tilted its head, paws reaching out to poke her in the cheek. Akari squeaked and scooted away from the baby's grasp, her heart racing. "Don't touch!" she barked, her voice sharp with panic. The baby's ears drooped a little, and it made a sad noise that sounded suspiciously like 'Kang'.

It was then that the mother Kangaskhan stepped forward, her bulk looming over Akari like a mountain. Akari's eyes went wide, and she felt her whole body shrink back. "Khan! Kangas, gas! (Don't you dare shout at my baby!)" the mother Kangaskhan scolded, her voice a stern rumble that seemed to echo through the highlands. Akari had no idea what she'd just said, but she got the message loud and clear: she'd messed up big time.

"Okay, okay," Akari said quickly, her voice a shaky whisper. She lowered her hands slightly, showing she meant no harm. "I'm sorry. I'm not... I'm not trying to be mean."

Kangaskhan looked a little appeased, but still was a little angry. She jerked her head in the direction of her baby, and said in that language Akari couldn't understand. "Kangas, gas. (Apologize to her, not me.)"

Akari felt a sudden, overwhelming feeling to make it right with the baby Kangaskhan- and, yes, while it could have been the intimidation factor, something felt... Off about the urge. Like someone had stuck their hand into her brain and turned the 'apologize' dial up to eleven.

Instead of thinking about that, though, Akari instead spun around to face the baby, dropped to her knees, and found herself doing something she never thought she'd do: bowing to a Pokémon. "I-I'm so sorry!"

The baby Kangaskhan tilted its head, looking utterly bewildered by the human's sudden change in behavior. Akari felt ridiculous, but she had a feeling that upsetting these two was not the way to go. The mother was still giving her the stink eye, so she had to tread lightly. "Please, I didn't mean to scare you," she continued, her voice squeaking slightly.

The baby's tail thumped the ground again, and it leaned in to sniff Akari's hair. Akari froze, her heart racing faster than a Rattata on a sugar rush. But the baby just gave her a nudge with its nose, then gave a happy little "Khan! (I forgive you!)"

In an instant, as though the switch that had been flicked earlier was set to off, that desperate urge to apologize vanished as, nearby, Kangaskhan nodded, satisfied.

It was about that moment that Akari realized, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that 'being caught' by Kangaskhan wasn't just a symbolic thing. If what she was thinking was right... The Pokeball had done something to her. mind.

Oh, no.

That was the only coherent thought Akari could muster as she took in her new... 'owner'. The Kangaskhan's baby had seemingly forgotten Akari's earlier shout, and was now beckoning her to come over to it with the same motion a person would to call a dog. The compulsion to obey the Pokémon's gesture impossibly strong, and it didn't even feel like a separate voice in her head, or even like her thoughts had been hijacked- It felt like her own desire.

Akari sighed, then stood, and walked over towards the baby Kangaskhan. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was acting like a programmed robot. The baby's eyes lit up as she approached, and it let out an excited "Kang! Gas, khan! (Yay! Now, have some pets!")

Akari's eyes widened as the Kangaskhan's baby reached up, placed her paw atop her head, and started to pet her. It was weird, having the strong, clawed paws run through her hair, down her neck, and over her shoulders. It was like someone had just told her she was a pet, and her body was reacting without permission. She could feel the Kangaskhan's gaze on her, watching, making sure she wasn't going to do anything stupid.

Akari had to admit, it was a little... nice. The baby was surprisingly gentle, and there was something oddly comforting about it all. The claws scratched her head, but in that really good way that made her want to lean into it like a cat.

Her thoughts raced as she tried to figure out what was happening. Why did she want to be petted by a wild Pokémon? Why was she just going along with it? But the more she fought it, the more the urge grew, like it was planted in her very bones. "Kang, kang! (Good job, human!)" the baby Kangaskhan chirped, and Akari felt a strange sense of pride at the little creature's approval, despite the fact that she couldn't understand its words. What in distortion was happening????

Akari took a deep breath. This was fine- She could just play along until she figured out what the heck was going on. And if she played nice, maybe she could convince them to let her go.

So, with a mental shrug, she leaned into the pets, letting the baby Kangaskhan's paws scratch away at her head.

'Hopefully,' she thought to herself, 'it won't take long before they get bored and let me go.'

That was the hope, at least.

6 months later

Akari let out an annoyed grunt as she felt the frustratingly bright and accurate light of the sun stream into her owner's home and wake her up, landing right on her eyes and probably nowhere else.

"Seriously, you have no respect for personal boundaries," she murmured to the sun, not that she could actually hear her voice over the younger Kangaskhan's snoring. The no-longer-little beast had decided that she liked her new 'human pillow' and had taken to curling up with Akari every night, effectively trapping her in a warm, scaly prison of affection. Fortunately, cuddling with her owner's daughter was very nice, and that morning had been no exception.

Her eyes finally blinked open to meet her owner's, who was looking down at Akari with a mix of curiosity and excitement. "Gas, kangas! (Wake up, human!)" the not-little one exclaimed, her paws poking at Akari's cheek. Akari managed a weak smile despite the early morning light. "Could you not be so chipper at the crack of dawn?" she asked, her voice groggy.

The baby's only response was to poke her harder, which elicited a giggle from both the human and her owner. "Okay, okay, I'm up," Akari sighed, sitting up and stretching. The baby Kangaskhan immediately took the opportunity to pounce on her, knocking her back down onto the bed of furs. Akari yelped, her laughter mixing with the baby's as they 'wrestled,' her owner's tail thumping happily against the ground... Not that Akari really had any chance in the 'wrestle' at all.

In the past six months, the baby Kangaskhan had grown at an astounding rate, now nearly as tall as her mother. Her paws had become massive, and her tail had grown thick and strong, perfect for swatting at Akari when she was feeling playful- And she was always feeling playful. It was like having a never-ending source of energy bouncing around the den, eager to play 'fetch' or 'catch the human', though, fortunately, the baby had gotten much better at gauging her strength. Sure, she still had moments where she forgot how fragile humans were, but she'd learned to tone it down. No more bruises from accidental tail slaps, no more close calls like with that 'catch' game that still gave Akari nightmares. Her owner had learned to be gentle, to treat Akari more like a fragile Pokémon egg than a chew toy.

Akari, on the other hand, had gone from being a scared, confused teenager to... well, a slightly less scared, slightly less confused teenager who'd learned to live with being the pet of two Alpha Kangaskhans.

The 'baby' had really taken to her, and Akari had to admit that she'd taken to the baby too. Sure, she missed her own clothes and the ability to make her own choices without the Pokeball overriding everything she did with Kangaskhan's commands, but there was something oddly comforting about the routine. Not having any responsibilities beyond keeping her owner entertained and not getting crushed by her love was surprisingly liberating and a lot less stressful than high school ever was before she got shot back in time.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," Akari groused, pushing the baby off her with a laugh. "What's on the agenda today, little miss boss?" The baby looked at her with a mischievous glint in her eye, and Akari couldn't help but feel a stab of excitement. What crazy, slightly dangerous game would she come up with today?

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that breakfast was probably ready. The mother Kangaskhan had taken to cooking for her after she'd realized that Akari couldn't handle raw meat. It was a weird dynamic, sure, but at least it meant she didn't have to eat berries and grass all day. And it was rather easy to light a campfire when one of the two creatures that owned you was able to spit massive jets of, well, fire.

"I'd say it's the little things, but let's be real, it's the big, scaly, fire-breathing things," Akari quipped to herself as she climbed out of bed. She knew that neither her owner nor her mother could understand her jokes, but she was totally allowed to find herself funny. Right? Right.

She followed her owner as the younger Kangaskhan enthusiastically speed-walked over to the fire. "Kang, gas! (Breakfast time!)", she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with the kind of excitement reserved for someone who hasn't yet discovered the existential dread of adulthood.

Akari couldn't help but smile at the baby Kangaskhan's energy. It was infectious, even if it did mean waking up earlier than she'd ever had to for school. "Yeah, yeah, I know," she mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Breakfast was always a little surreal, sitting cross-legged in her owner's lap as she devoured her meal. Akari quickly had discovered that the laps of Kangaskhans were surprisingly comfortable- And kept her safe from any accidental tail swipes or playful nibbles that might come her way, so that was a plus. Now, it was just another part of their morning routine.

The mother Kangaskhan placed a skewer of what smelled like chargrilled berries and some sort of roasted meat in front of her. Akari took a tentative bite, the smoky flavor reminding her of BBQs back home. It was a decent breakfast, all things considered. Yeah, it wasn't pancakes with syrup, but it had its charms. She chewed thoughtfully, watching as the mother Kangaskhan began her own breakfast, a whole Sneasel that she'd brought back from the hunt the night before. "Classy," Akari mumbled, biting a berry off of the stick.

Her mind wandered as she ate, thinking about what she would do if she ever got back to her own time. Would she tell anyone about this? Would anyone even believe her? Would she miss the simplicity of her life here with the Kangaskhans? Akari sighed and took another bite of the roasted meat. It was definitely more flavorful than the packaged crap she used to eat in the present/future.

Before she could get too lost in thought, she felt the baby Kangaskhan's paws around her waist, lifting her off the ground with surprising ease. "Gas, kangas! (Come on, human, let's go play!)", the baby exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. Akari couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Is it even legal to have this much energy before 10 AM?" she asked, not expecting a response from the creature that had never heard of a clock. But the baby just grinned and bobbed her head, eager to show Akari the new game she'd thought up.

As she was carried off, Akari took one last look at the mother Kangaskhan, who was now busy gnawing on a bone. She couldn't help but wonder if the mother ever felt guilty about turning her into a glorified pet. Probably not, she thought, considering the way they both treated her. But hey, at least she got fed and didn't have to deal with algebra anymore. Small victories.

The baby Kangaskhan strutted out of the cave, her tail wagging so hard it looked like it might knock over a small tree. "Gas, kangas! (Today, we're playing 'tag'!)" she exclaimed, her voice full of the kind of excitement that could only come from someone who hadn't discovered the horrors of taxes and deadlines.

Akari sighed, but smiled at the same time. It was a strange thing to be happy about being treated like a pet, but here she was. Being whisked away by the baby Kangaskhan was something she'd grown accustomed to, even started to enjoy in a weird, Stockholm-syndrome kind of way.

Really, it could be worse.

Those were the thoughts that often ran through Akari's head as she played 'tag' with the baby Kangaskhan. Sure, she could be back in the future, worrying about homework, or what to wear to prom, or why her crush still hadn't noticed her, but here? Here, she was free from all of that. Here, the biggest decisions she had to make were whether to run to the left or the right to avoid getting tagged.

But as the months went by, Akari's thoughts of home grew fainter, like the distant echo of a forgotten melody. The Coronet Highlands had become her new normal, the Kangaskhans her unlikely family. The baby had grown into a young adult, still just as playful but with a touch more maturity. She had learned to listen to her mother's warnings, and Akari had learned to appreciate the simplicity of their life together.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery shades of red and orange, Akari sat outside the cave, leaning agianst the younger Kangaskhan's side. The mother watched them from the entrance, a rare smile on her face. She knew that Akari had become a cherished part of their lives, and she had grown to love the human girl in her own strange way. Akari looked up at the mother, who nodded in approval. "Kang, gas. (Good job, pet.)" she said gruffly, and Akari felt a warmth spread through her chest.

She didn't need to understand her words to know what she meant. Akari had learned to read the subtle cues of their gestures and tones. She had become a part of their lives, a permanent fixture in the dynamic between mother and daughter. And as she sat there, watching the mother Kangaskhan's proud gaze, she realized that she didn't mind it anymore. This was her life now, and- frankly- it a dang good one.

Chapter Text

People had a tendency to assume that Dittos were rather unintelligent creatures, since faces like theirs- Black dots for eyes and a constant, dumb-looking smile- didn't exactly bode well for their IQ levels. But, as the purple blob lurked through the dense foliage, it was clear that this particular specimen had more on its mind than just copying other Pokémon.

Serena hummed to herself as she set up camp, her cheerfulness echoing through the otherwise quiet woods. She didn't have a single clue that she was being watched. The trees cast long shadows as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and she worked efficiently, setting up her tent and starting a small fire. Her thoughts were elsewhere, probably on her Pokedex entries or her plans for the next Gym battle.

The purple blob that was a non-transformed Ditto observed her from a safe distance. Its black dot eyes studied her every move, its smile twisted in a way that no human smile could be. It had been searching for its missing comrade for what felt like an eternity, and the trail had led it straight to this oblivious girl.

Serena sang softly as she worked, a gentle tune that seemed to calm the wild Pokémon around her. The fire crackled, casting flickering lights across her fair skin and thin frame. Her fluffy brown hair bobbed as she moved, and the setting sun painted her in a warm, golden glow. The Ditto watched, its thoughts a whirlwind of malicious intent and grim determination.

It had a plan- one that would not only lead it to its missing friend but also give it a chance to indulge in a bit of petty play...

With a grunt of effort, the Ditto began to morph, its jelly-like body stretching and contorting in a way that would make even the most stoic observer cringe. It grew arms and legs, elongating them to match the length of Serena's. Its blob-like form began to take on the curves and angles of a human, the purple flesh shifting to a paler, more natural shade of skin. The face stretched, the smile warping into a disturbing facsimile of Serena's cheerful expression.

The transformation was painstakingly detailed. Each strand of brown hair grew from the blob's surface, perfectly mimicking the style and texture of Serena's own hair. The blue eyes formed, the dots stretching into perfect, albeit slightly lifeless, replicas of her own. The body grew taller, thinner, and more defined, until it was an exact copy of the girl it was stalking.

But something was off. The Ditto had never transformed into a human before, and it hadn't anticipated the intricacies of human anatomy. When it looked down at its new body, it realized with a start that it had made a mistake. Instead of the soft, welcoming folds of a vagina, there was a penis standing proudly between its legs. It cocked its head in confusion, then a slow, wicked smile spread across its face. The mistake was unexpected, but it saw potential in this development.

The Ditto, who will be referred to as Not-Serena from now on, felt a thrill of excitement as it- Or rather, she- completed her transformation into the spitting image of the unsuspecting trainer. She had never transformed into a human before, and the sensation of having legs and a torso was oddly exhilarating. The addition of male genitalia was a surprise, but it could be a tool for the horror she was had plans to unleash...

-

Serena's peaceful slumber was abruptly interrupted by the sound of rustling outside her tent. Her eyes shot open, her heart hammering in her chest. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a dim, flickering light through the fabric walls. She could make out the silhouette of something moving around her camp. Her first thought was of the wild Pokémon she'd seen earlier, but they'd been so small and harmless- These were, without a doubt, human footsteps.

Panic gripped her as she reached for her backpack, fumbling in the dark for her trusty Fennekin's Pokeball. The zipper made a sound that seemed to echo through the silent night, and she winced. The steps outside paused, and she held her breath. Then, she heard a voice.

Her voice.

It was Serena's voice, but it didn't come from her own mouth. The cheerful melody that had been serenading the woods only moments ago was now being sung by someone else. Or something else.

With trembling hands, she unzipped the tent and stepped into the night. The moon had risen, casting a pale glow that made the shadows dance eerily around her. The voice grew louder, and she could see a figure in the clearing, bathed in the silvery light. It was her, or so it seemed. The same brown hair, the same blue eyes, the same fluffy pajamas. But something was wrong, something that made her stomach churn. Not only was the other-her naked, but... Serena could've sworn she saw something swinging between her legs...

The voice grew closer, and she realized with dawning horror that the figure was approaching her. The song grew sinister, the cheerful tune now tainted with an underlying menace that sent cold shivers down her spine. She took a step back, her hand tightening around the Pokeball. "Who are you?" she called out, her voice wavering with fear.

The figure stopped, and for a moment, it was as if time itself held its breath. Then, the doppelgänger turned to face her, the smile on its- Her- face widening into a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Why, I'm you, human," her voice sang out, the sweetness of it a stark contrast to the malevolence that lay beneath. Her body was identical to Serena's, but... She had a dick hanging down from her crotch, one that seemed to be just a bit too large in scale to her.

With a dramatic flourish, Not-Serena pulled a Pokeball from where she had been holding it behind her back. The red and white sphere glinted in the moonlight, and a sickening sense of déjà vu washed over the real Serena. She took another step back, her eyes wide with terror. "What do you want?" she whispered, her voice barely carrying in the stillness.

The grinning doppelgänger tossed the ball into the air, catching it with ease. "Oh, just a little borrowing," she said, her voice still Serena's but with a chilling lilt that made the words sound foreign. "You see, I need to be you for a while. Just until I find what I'm looking for."

Serena took another step back, her eyes flickering to the Pokeball in the creature's hand. "What are you talking about?" she stammered, trying to make sense of the horror before her.

"My dear, you're so naive," Not-Serena said with a chuckle that didn't quite match the tone of Serena's laughter. "You see, your little games with these creatures... They're just a bit of fun for you, but for me, it's survival. And I've got a score to settle. You just happen to be the perfect vessel for my little quest."

The creature took another step closer, the smile never leaving its face. Serena's fear grew with every word, her mind racing. "Why me?" she managed to ask, her voice shaking.

Not-Serena shrugged, the movement so eerily human that it made Serena's skin crawl. "Why you?" she repeated, her voice a mocking echo of Serena's own. "Because you're here, and because you're convenient. My selection process wasn't all that detailed, in all honesty."

Serena felt a flicker of anger amidst the fear. "Get away from me!" she yelled, her voice stronger than she felt. She raised her own Pokeball, and moved into her best battle-ready pose, ready to loose her trusty Fennekin. "I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!" she exclaimed, her hand trembling as she pointed at the creature.

But Not-Serena only laughed, a sound that was so wrong coming from the mouth that looked just like hers. She tossed the empty Pokeball she had been holding in the air, watching it arc through the moonlit sky before catching it with a cruel twist of her wrist. "How quaint," she said, her smile never faltering. "But I think we can skip the formalities, don't you?"

With a swiftness that belied its blob-like origins, Not-Serena darted forward and threw the Pokeball directly at Serena's chest. The real Serena's eyes went wide with shock as the ball made contact, the sudden weight of it surprising her. The moment the ball hit her, there was a brilliant flash of red light, and she felt herself being sucked into it, her vision swirling with stars.

Panic surged through her as she realized what was happening. She was being caught by a Pokémon. The world around her shrank to a pinpoint of light, and she was consumed by darkness. The last thing she heard was Not-Serena's laughter, echoing through the void.

-

Not-Serena watched with gleeful anticipation as the real Serena disappeared into the crimson light of the Pokeball, her own laughter bouncing off the trees like a twisted lullaby. The ball bobbed in the air for a moment before it settled into her outstretched hand with a soft click. The weight was oddly satisfying, a tangible victory in her quest for revenge. She had the girl exactly where she wanted her.

The pile of clothes and gear that remained on the ground served as a bizarre testament to the reality of what had just transpired. The fabric of her pajamas now lied limp and lifeless on the ground without the presence of their owner. The backpack lay open, its contents spilled out around it like the discarded remnants of a life stolen away.

The only sound that pierced the silence was the rustle of leaves as Not-Serena approached the now empty pile of Serena's possessions. She picked up the trainer's shirt, holding it to her new, unnaturally formed chest. The material was soft and warm, unlike any bed of leaves could hope to be- And, frankly, Not-Serena was a fan.

She pulled on the shirt and pants, stretching the fabric over the curve of her newly formed breasts and the protrusion of her borrowed male member. The clothes fit almost too well, hugging her form in a way that made her feel more physically present than she had ever felt in her blob-like existence. The sensation was oddly thrilling, a hint of arousal flickering through her inhuman mind.

The panties, however, presented a challenge. With a snort of amusement, she realized that the simple act of wearing underwear was far more complicated than she had anticipated. After a few clumsy attempts, she gave up and simply tucked her penis into the waistband of the pants, deciding that this was close enough to how humans did it. The skirt hid the bulge well enough anyway.

Once dressed, Not-Serena took a moment to survey her new domain. The tent looked inviting, a beacon of human comfort in the alien world of the woods. She stepped inside, the fabric of the doorway brushing against her new legs, and took in the sight with a mix of curiosity and contempt. The smell of Serena's perfume lingered in the air, a sickly sweet scent that she found both repulsive and fascinating.

Her eyes fell on the backpack. With a smirk, she knelt beside it and began to sift through the contents. The girl had packed light, but there were a few interesting items that caught her eye. A phone, a water bottle, some snacks, and, of course, a Pokedex. Not-Serena picked up the device, flipping it open and watching the screen light up with the image of a Pokémon she didn't recognize. It was clear that this human had been living a life of relative ease- One that had led up to this single, unfortunate moment.

But before anything else, she had to deal with the original Serena's Pokémon. Not-Serena's smile grew thoughtful as she considered the tiny fire fox trapped in the red and white sphere that lay on the ground just outside the tent. She had to admit, the human had good taste. Fennekin was a rare and powerful Pokémon. It would be a huge help in Not-Serena's journey, if she could get its willing assistance.

With a flick of her wrist, she sent the Pokeball soaring into the air, catching it again with a snicker. The power contained within was thrilling, and she couldn't wait to see how it felt to command such a creature. But first, she had to get into character. After all, Fennekin would be suspicious of its trainer's sudden change in behavior. She had to play this right.

Not-Serena stepped out of the tent, her heart racing with excitement. The moon cast long shadows across the ground, and she practiced Serena's gait, trying to mimic the way the human's hips swayed as she walked. The feeling of legs moving beneath her was still strange, but she was adapting quickly. She called out to the darkness, "Fenn-e-kin! Time to wake up, buddy!"

A burst of firelight pierced the night as Fennekin emerged from its Poké Ball, looking around sleepily. Its eyes fell on Not-Serena, and it tilted its head in confusion.

"Good morning, sunshine," Not-Serena said in her best imitation of Serena's cheerful tone, her voice a little too bright, a little too forced. She waved at the fire fox, hoping she wasn't overdoing it. "You slept like a rock!"

Fennekin blinked sleepily at the human-shaped figure before it. Something felt off, but the warm light and familiar scent of its trainer's clothes were comforting. The fox-like Pokémon had seen many strange things in its short life, so a slightly different Serena wasn't that much of a concern. It yawned and stretched, the fluff around its neck and tail fluttering in the early morning breeze.

"Alright, let's get going," Not-Serena said, her voice a perfect mimic of Serena's. She was relieved that her plan had worked so flawlessly. The human was captured, and she had assumed her identity without raising any alarms. Now, all she needed was to keep the ruse up long enough to find her missing comrade and get her revenge. "We've got a big day ahead of us!"

Day 1

The world swirled around Serena as the crimson light of the Pokeball faded, leaving her standing in a small, cramped space. The walls of the ball felt like they were closing in around her, the sensation of confinement sending waves of panic through her body. She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm herself down. Her heart raced as she heard the click of the ball's mechanism, and with a gasp, she was released.

The sudden change in environment was jarring. Gone were the comforting smells of the woods, replaced by the sterile scent of a hotel room. She took a moment to gather her bearings, looking around the unfamiliar space. The walls were a garish shade of pink, and the bedspread was covered in an ugly pattern of roses. The only light came from a single, flickering lamp on the nightstand, casting eerie shadows across the room.

"Hello, Serena," Not-Serena's voice was a cold whisper in the darkness. The real Serena spun around, her eyes widening in horror as she saw herself standing in the doorway, the grin on her doppelgänger's face sending chills down her spine. She was holding a familiar Pokeball- The one Not-Serena had just earlier used to catch Serena.

"What...what have you done?" she stuttered, her eyes never leaving the sphere.

Not-Serena stepped into the room, her smile never faltering. "Oh, come now, don't be so dramatic," she said, her voice a perfect copy of Serena's, yet carrying an undertone of malice that was entirely alien to the cheerful trainer. "I've just done what any Pokemon trainer would do." She sauntered over to the bed, her movements eerily human, and sat down with a bounce, crossing her legs. The bulge in her pants was impossible to miss, and she petted it idly, watching the real Serena's face twist in revulsion.

"You see," she began, her eyes gleaming with malevolence, "I've been looking for a friend of mine. A very special friend. And you, my dear, are going to help me find them." She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, the Pokeball with Serena's Fennekin sitting atop the nightstand. "But before we get to that, let's talk about your new role..."

Serena felt a shiver run down her spine as she took in the unsettling sight of herself explaining a plan of vengeance. The creature looked so much like her, yet the coldness in her eyes was a stark reminder of the alien mind behind that smile. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"It's quite simple, really," Not-Serena said, her voice a mockery of Serena's own cheerful tone. "You're in my world now, my little pet- And I'm in yours. You belong to me, and as your owner, I can do whatever I wish with you." She held up the Pokeball she had used to catch Serena in her hand. "And this little toy here is the key to keeping you right where I want you."

Serena's eyes filled with tears as the gravity of her situation sank in. She was trapped, a mere possession to this... thing that wore her face. The thought of what it could do to her, of what it could make her do, was too much to bear. But she knew she had to keep her wits about her.

"Now, of course, there are going to be some rules... You must do exactly as I say, when I say it. If you're a good girl, I might even let you out to play with your little Pokémon friend." She gestured at the Pokeball that contained Fennekin.

Serena felt her stomach turn at the thought of being controlled by this monstrous imposter. "What do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

Not-Serena's smile grew broader, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "I want you to get down on your knees," she ordered, her voice firm and commanding. "Come on, don't be shy. It's just like you're begging for a treat, isn't it?"

Serena's legs felt like jelly as she stumbled over to the bed, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. She dropped to her knees, the plush carpet soft against her skin. She couldn't believe this was happening, that she was kneeling before a creature that looked like her but was so fundamentally wrong.

With a wicked smirk, Not-Serena hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her borrowed pants and skirt, and with a flourish, pulled them down. The fabric fell to the floor, revealing what had been hidden within the bulge Serena had noticed earlier.

Serena's eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of her doppelgänger's new anatomy. The creature had transformed its lower body to have a penis- And it looked so normal, like a human's penis should look like, but on the wrong person. It was a stark reminder that this being was not truly human, no matter how well it had mimicked her appearance.

"Now, don't be shy," Not-Serena said, her voice still a perfect imitation of Serena's, yet carrying a dark edge that sent shivers down the real girl's spine. "You're going to suck it like it's the last thing you'll ever do."

Serena's eyes filled with revulsion as she stared at the grotesque appendage that jerked slightly before her, but she knew that fighting back would only make things worse. With trembling hands, she reached out, touching the alien flesh tentatively. It was warm and firm, and the sensation made her want to gag. She took a deep breath and leaned in, her eyes watering as she closed her mouth around it. The taste was salty and bitter, and she had to force herself not to pull away as the tip brushed against the back of her throat.

"That's a good girl," Not-Serena cooed, her voice a twisted echo of Serena's own. Her hand stroked the trainer's hair, guiding her movements. "Just like that. Show me how much you want to be a good little pet."

Serena's cheeks burned with humiliation and anger, but she forced herself to comply, bobbing her head in a mockery of pleasure. Her eyes remained locked on Not-Serena's, a silent plea for this to be over. The creature's smile grew wider, enjoying the power she had over her victim.

As Serena's mouth moved, she couldn't help but feel a sense of violation, her mind reeling from the sheer wrongness of the act. The cock grew harder in her mouth, and she could feel the Ditto's excitement through the slit at the tip. She gagged slightly, and Not-Serena's grip tightened in her hair, pushing her down further.

"Good," Not-Serena praised, her voice a chilling echo of Serena's own. "You're a natural. But let's see if you can take it all, shall we?" She pushed the trainer's head down, her own hips bucking slightly as the full length of her shaft slid into the warm, wet cavity.

Serena choked, her eyes watering as she struggled to accommodate the monstrous intrusion. Her mind raced, desperately seeking a way to escape this twisted game of cat and mouse. But as much as she wanted to fight back, she knew that the power dynamics had shifted dramatically in favor of her malevolent copy.

"Mm, yes," Not-Serena crooned, her hand fisting in Serena's hair as she guided the rhythm of her head bobbing up and down. "That's what I like to see. A good little human, doing as she's told." The words were a mockery of any kindness or affection Serena had ever known, and they only served to fuel the rage simmering within her.

But fear held her in check, her mind racing as she felt the creature's penis swell even more in her mouth. The smell of arousal was thick in the air, and she knew that if she didn't play along, the situation would only get worse. With a gulp, she took Not-Serena's entire length, her throat tightening around the shaft as she gagged.

The monster above her chuckled, a sound that was all too familiar yet utterly wrong. "That's it," Not-Serena said, her voice a sadistic purr. "You're such a good little pet, aren't you?" Her grip on Serena's hair tightened, and she began to move her head with more force, making her bob faster and faster on the shaft that invaded her mouth. It was like she was a toy, a doll to be used for the creature's amusement.

Serena's eyes watered, and her cheeks hollowed as she fought not to gag. The smell of Not-Serena's arousal was overpowering, a sickly sweet scent that made her stomach churn. She could feel the creature's thighs tense, and the pace grew even more frenzied. The bed squeaked in protest every time Not-Serena shoved Serena's face into her crotch, the only other sound in the room the wet smack of her own mouth and the creature's gleeful gasps.

The horror of the situation was almost too much to bear. She was being used like some sort of living sex doll, her own body being manipulated to satisfy the twisted desires of this alien creature. She took a deep breath through her nose and tried to ignore the taste, focusing instead on the task at hand.

The pressure grew, and she could feel the creature's climax building, its thighs trembling with anticipation. Not-Serena's eyes were closed, her head thrown back in a silent scream of pleasure. Then, with a grunt that sounded eerily human, she came. The warm, sticky fluid filled Serena's mouth, and she had to fight every instinct to keep from retching.

"Swallow," Not-Serena ordered, her voice a harsh whisper that echoed in the quiet room. Serena's eyes watered even more as she did as she was told, the seed sliding down her throat, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. It yet another victory for the creature, one that left Serena feeling more disgusted and used than ever before.

As Not-Serena pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, Serena couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and despair. She had never felt so low, so powerless. She looked up at her tormentor, the creature that now owned her, and saw something new in its eyes. It wasn't just satisfaction or amusement anymore- There was a spark of something darker, something that hinted at the depths of its depravity.

"Good girl," Not-Serena said, her voice a mockery of praise. She reached down to pet Serena's cheek, and the real human had to fight the urge to slap it away. "I'm going to have so much fun with you..."

The horror of the situation washed over Serena like a cold, dark wave. She had been made into a mere plaything for this sadistic creature's amusement. Her own identity stolen, her body used against her will. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, despair clutching at her heart.

With a smug smile, Not-Serena grabbed the Pokeball from the nightstand, the plastic cool and smooth in her trembling hand. She could see the creature's reflection in the glossy surface, her own face twisted into a parody of pleasure, and she realized with a start that she was crying. The room spun as she felt herself being drawn into the crimson light, the walls of the hotel room vanishing from her vision as everything went dark once more...

Day 3

The Pokeball's light faded, and Serena stumbled out into a new environment, her legs wobbly from the disorientation of being released. This time, she found herself in a dirty alleyway, the smell of trash and urine assaulting her senses. The cobblestone street was illuminated by a single flickering streetlight, casting eerie shadows on the grimy walls.

"Welcome back to the outside world," Not-Serena said, her voice a chilling echo of Serena's own as she leaned against the alley wall, her transformed body stretching out in a lazy, cat-like fashion. She had changed into a new outfit, this one a tight-fitting t-shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination. "How was your time in the Pokeball?"

Serena wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, still tasting the remnants of Not-Serena's climax. She glared at the creature that had stolen her identity. "What do you want now?" she spat out, her voice tinged with anger and fear.

"Oh, I just felt like relieving some stress," Not-Serena said, her tone light and airy as if she were discussing the weather. "You know, after a long day of pretending to be you. It's surprisingly taxing, all that smiling and acting cheerful. I figured we could have some fun together before I let you go back to your little... confinement."

The alley was eerily quiet, the distant sounds of the city muffled by the tall, grimy buildings. Serena's eyes darted around, searching for any sign of escape or help. But she knew better than to try and run. But maybe she could call for help...?

Her hope was quickly dashed as Not-Serena stepped closer, her grin widening. "Now, now," she cooed, her voice a chilling imitation of Serena's own. "Let's not ruin the moment."

With a swift movement, she pulled out a rolled-up strip of cloth from her pocket and before Serena could react, the gag was shoved into her mouth, the knot pulled tight behind her head. The gag was thick and rough, filling her mouth and cutting off her words into muffled sounds of protest.

"There," Not-Serena said, her smile wicked as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Now we can play without any interruptions."

Her transformed body stepped closer, the bulge in her shorts more pronounced than ever. Serena felt bile rise in her throat as she stared at the grotesque sight. The creature's penis grew before her eyes, elongating and growing erect as it slid free from the fabric. It was as if she was watching a nightmare unfold in slow motion, unable to look away or scream.

Not-Serena grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against the cold brick wall, her hands unyielding as she positioned Serena's legs apart. The alley was cold, the rough stone digging into her skin, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. The creature leaned in, her breath hot against Serena's ear as she whispered, "You're going to take this like the good little pet you are, aren't you?"

Serena felt the pressure of the monstrous cock pushing against her, the head nudging her wet folds open. The sensation was a mix of fear and unwanted arousal, a perverse mockery of the intimacy she had once wished to share with another. She whimpered into the gag as Not-Serena's shaft sank into her, inch by inch, stretching her to accommodate the alien intrusion. The creature's grip tightened, her nails digging into Serena's skin as she thrust deeper.

The walls of the alley closed in around her, the cold brick pressing against her back as Not-Serena's hips ground against her. Each thrust was a violation, a reminder of her new role in this twisted game. She could feel the rough fabric of the shorts against her inner thighs, a constant friction that sent bolts of pain through her body. Her eyes watered, and she squeezed them shut, trying to block out the sight of herself committing this act of depravity.

The creature's movements grew more erratic, her breathing heavy and labored as she fucked Serena with a ferocity that seemed to come from a place of anger. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the narrow space, the only other noise the occasional distant yowl of a stray Pokémon. Each push was accompanied by a twisted parody of a moan, Not-Serena's voice a grotesque mimicry of pleasure.

"You know," Not-Serena panted, her voice a sadistic mockery of Serena's cheerful tone, "You're not half bad at this. If only you weren't so... human." She spat the word like a curse, her hips slamming into Serena's with renewed vigor. "So fragile, so weak. It's a wonder your kind has survived this long."

Serena's eyes stung with the combination of pain and humiliation, her muffled protests lost in the fabric of the gag. She felt like a ragdoll, used and abused at the whim of this monstrous imposter. The creature's cock filled her completely, moving in a rhythm that was both painful and degrading.

"You humans are all the same," Not-Serena jeered, her voice a twisted reflection of Serena's own. "So eager to capture and control, yet so utterly defenseless when the tables are turned." Her thrusts grew more vicious, each one driving the air from Serena's lungs. "Look at you," she continued, her breath hot against Serena's neck. "You're nothing but a worthless piece of meat to me now. A toy to be used and discarded when I tire of you."

The words cut deeper than the pain, each insult a dagger twisting in her soul as Not-Serena's thrusts grew more brutal. The creature's eyes bore into hers, a twisted mirror reflecting her own fear and despair.

"But I get the feeling," Not-Serena continued with a wicked smile, "that I won't be getting tired of you anytime soon."

The creature's hips bucked even harder, her cock slamming into Serena's pussy with a force that made the human girl's eyes roll back in her head. The pain was unbearable, but she couldn't help the involuntary whimpers that escaped her gagged mouth. Each thrust sent waves of agony through her, but also a strange, unwanted pleasure that made her feel even more disgusting.

Not-Serena's eyes gleamed with excitement as she watched the fear and pleasure mix on Serena's face. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a serpent's hiss. "Take it like the toy you are." The creature's thrusts grew erratic, the sound of her hips smacking against Serena's flesh echoing through the alley.

Serena's body responded against her will, her pussy clenching around the invading cock. The sensation was alien and wrong, yet she felt a twisted pleasure that made her stomach churn. Her own arousal was a betrayal, a reminder of the power Not-Serena had over her. She whimpered into the gag, her eyes squeezed shut as tears streaked down her cheeks.

The creature's pace grew frantic, her breathing ragged as she approached climax. Serena felt the warmth of her own juices mixing with the creature's pre-cum, a slippery mess that only made the violation feel more obscene. The creature's hips stuttered, and she knew it was close.

With a final, brutal thrust, Not-Serena came, her entire body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Her seed filled Serena, a thick, hot sensation that made her stomach churn. The creature pulled out with a wet sound, leaving her feeling empty and used.

Serena slumped against the wall, the gag still in place, as Not-Serena stepped back, panting heavily. The creature's eyes glowed with a perverse satisfaction, a look that sent chills down the trainer's spine. The alley was quiet except for their heavy breathing, the cobblestones stained with their mixed fluids.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up," Not-Serena said, her voice still a perfect imitation of Serena's. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of tissues, tossing them at the trembling girl. "You wouldn't want to go back to your little ball like that, would you?"

Serena's eyes narrowed in anger, but she knew better than to argue. With shaking hands, she wiped herself clean, the fabric sticking to her tender skin. The gag was removed, and she spat out the taste of dirty laundry. Her mouth felt almost as bruised and sore as her pussy, a stark reminder of both violations she had just endured.

"Good girl," Not-Serena said, her voice a chilling imitation of Serena's own. She leaned in close, her breath hot against the trainer's neck. "Now, let's get you back in your ball- I have a big day of searching ahead of me."

Serena's eyes were filled with a mix of anger and despair as she was shoved back into the confines of the Pokeball, the crimson light enveloping her once again. She had never felt so small, so utterly powerless. But wanted to fight, wanted to resist...

But that just wasn't who Serena was at her core, was it? She'd always been the passive, quiet, girl that everyone said was so obedient...

Serena's last thought before her consciousness faded was of Fennekin, the one thing she had left to hold onto. Her last hope- If she could just tell her starter what had happened...

Everything went dark.

Day 7

Not-Serena walked out of the Gym with a triumphant smirk, the gleaming badge pinned proudly to her shirt. A small crowd of nearby onlookers cheered and applauded, none the wiser to the horror that lurked beneath her human façade. She had done it- she had bested the Gym Leader and earned her first badge as a trainer. It was a thrilling victory, one that she had savored with a twisted glee that was not her own.

She glanced beside her, down at the red-furred fox Pokemon that had lead to the victory- The one who had evolved mid-battle, growing more fiery and powerful than ever before. Fennekin had evolved into Braixen, its fur now a brilliant orange that seemed to crackle with untamed energy, its tail carrying a stick its species oh-so-loved to use as a wand. The transformation had taken even Not-Serena by surprise, a rare moment where the creature had felt a genuine thrill of excitement rather than malicious pleasure. Its evolution was the only reason they had won the battle, and Not-Serena couldn't help but be proud.

But the pride was short-lived, as the creature's mind snapped back to the task at hand- finding its missing friend. It had used Serena's charm and determination to win the hearts of the people and the battles, but deep down, it was still a sadistic imposter with a vendetta. The real Serena remained a silent, terrified witness to her own life, trapped in the confines of a Pokeball, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and despair.

Not-Serena called Braixen back into its Pokeball before she began to make her way through the bustling city streets- But while she did so, she couldn't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction. Her plan was working. Everyone believed she was the cheerful, hopeful trainer they knew, and she was using that trust to further her own twisted agenda.

Turning down a narrow, dimly lit alley- a rather familiar one, in fact- she slipped into the shadows, away from prying eyes. The concrete were slick with rainwater, the stench of trash and damp earth thick in the air. It was the perfect place for what she had in mind.

With a flick of her wrist, the Pokeball opened and released a burst of crimson light. Serena stumbled out, blinking in the sudden brightness, her eyes wide with fear and anger. She had hoped that the creature would let her go, that she'd be able to escape and find help. But she knew that was a foolish hope.

"W-why..." She stammered, "why did you let me out again?" The gag was gone, but the fear remained, thick in her voice like a knot that couldn't be untied.

"Oh, I just thought you might like to see what I've been up to," Not-Serena said with a wicked smile, her eyes glinting in the dim light of the alley. "After all, you're missing out on all the fun!"

Serena blinked in confusion. "W-wait... Didn't we just..."

"Four days," Not-Serena interrupted, her voice cold and calculating. "You've been in there for four whole days since I fucked you in this alleyway. Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

Serena's stomach churned at the memory, and she couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of fear wash over her. The creature had been out in the world, living her life, while she was trapped in a hellish cycle of fear and darkness. "What have you been doing?" she managed to ask, her voice shaking.

"Why, the usual," Not-Serena said, her smile growing even more sinister. "Training, battling, making friends- all while keeping up the charade of being you. It's surprisingly easy, really. All that cheer and hope you're so full of- it's like you're a walking billboard for positivity. And the best part? They all believe it."

The creature pulled out the badge, holding it up to the flickering light of the alley. It glinted, as Serena's eyes followed it, a mix of anger and despair swirling in their depths. That badge was supposed to be hers, a symbol of her own growth and strength. But now, it was a mockery of everything she had ever worked for.

"Look what I've earned," Not-Serena said, her voice a cold imitation of Serena's cheerfulness. "Isn't it pretty?" She twirled the badge on its pin, watching the light dance across the metal. "It's a testament to your... talents, I suppose. After all, it's your face that got us this far."

Serena stared at the ground, her thoughts racing. She had to find a way out of this nightmare. Her eyes fell on the Pokeball in Not-Serena's hand, and her idea from earlier resurfaced. If she could talk to Fennekin...

"You're so quiet," Not-Serena said, her voice dropping to a purr. "It's almost like you're thinking of something naughty."

Serena's mind raced as she tried to come up with a way to convince the creature that she wasn't planning anything. "I'm not thinking of anything," she lied, her voice shaking. "Just...just enjoying the, um, fresh air."

Not-Serena's smile grew even wider, a chilling sight that sent shivers down Serena's spine. "Good," she said, patting the Pokeball in her hand. "Because if you're a good little pet, I might just decide to let you out again soon."

The creature stepped closer, her eyes lingering on the human's trembling form. "But for now," she continued, "I think it's time for you to go back to your cage." She held out the Pokeball, the red light pulsing with a sinister energy. "You've been such a good girl, letting me take over your life."

Serena's eyes widened with terror, her heart hammering in her chest. The alley was claustrophobic, the walls seemingly closing in on her. But she had to try. Summoning all her courage, she took a step forward, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please... don't put me back in there."

Not-Serena's smile didn't waver, but there was a glint in her eye that suggested she was enjoying this newfound power. "Oh? You want to have a little bit of time outside?"

Serena nodded frantically, trying to keep the desperation out of her eyes. "Y-yes," she stuttered, "I've been a good girl, haven't I?"

Not-Serena's grin grew, a malicious twinkle in her eye. "Very good," she purred. "But you still have a little left to go before you've earned a reward."

Not-Serena pressed the button on the Pokeball, and after a familiar flash of red light, Serena lost consciousness once more.

Day 18

Not-Serena groaned with frustration, her eyes scanning the dusty, cobweb-covered room. They had been searching for days, and she was no closer to finding her missing comrade. The abandoned house they'd stumbled upon was eerie, the creaking floors and dust motes dancing in the shafts of moonlight piercing through the broken windows the only movement.

But none of that was what was causing Not-Serena's annoyance. No, it was the shelf that was just barely too high to reach- The one that had the book that the fetch-quest she'd accepted on a whim wanted her to grab.

"Why," she growled, her transformed body flexing with irritation, "Couldn't they have just left it on the table?" She'd already encountered more than enough creepy crawlies and jump-scares for one night, and now she had to deal with poor interior design.

But as she stepped back, considering her next move, she had an idea. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the Pokeball, her thumb hovering over the button. "I suppose," she said, a twisted smile spreading across her face, "You could be of some use beyond stress-relief after all."

The light flared, and with a gasp, Serena was pulled from the confines of the Pokeball. She stumbled, her legs unsteady from the prolonged captivity. The room spun around her, and she had to grab onto the nearest wall to keep from falling. The stale, dusty air filled her lungs, and she coughed from the sudden invasion.

"Look at you," Not-Serena said with a sneer. "So pathetic."

Serena gritted her teeth, the words stinging more than she'd like to admit. But she knew better than to argue. Instead, she tried to focus on her breathing, willing her legs to stop shaking.

"I need your help," Not-Serena said, her voice still a mockery of Serena's own. "You see, I can't reach this book. And I can't very well transform into something else while I'm looking like you- I can't risk messing up any details, after all. Fortunately," Not-Serena's smile grew, "you're here to lend a hand."

Serena's stomach turned at the thought of being used yet again, but she nodded, desperate to escape the confines of the Pokeball. The creature had become so much more creative with her torments, and she lived in fear of what was next, and this was only the third- fourth?- time she'd let Serena out of the Pokeball.

"Good girl," Not-Serena cooed, her voice still a sickening imitation of Serena's own cheerful tones. "Now, get on your hands and knees."

Serena's heart sank as she realized the creature's intentions. The last thing she wanted was to be used for something so degrading again, but she had little choice. With trembling limbs, she lowered herself to the cold, dusty floor, feeling the grit and dirt dig into her knees and palms. The creature watched her with a predatory gaze, her own body a mirror of Serena's, yet filled with a malevolent power that was utterly alien to the real trainer.

"Now, crawl over there," Not-Serena pointed to the shelf, her voice a chilling parody of kindness. "And don't you dare collapse."

Serena's heart raced, but she obeyed, her body moving sluggishly after so much time in the cramped Pokeball. She approached the shelf, her eyes darting around the room for any sign of escape or aid. The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional scuttle of a bug-type, and she felt a deep sense of dread settle in her chest.

"Careful," Not-Serena warned, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "You wouldn't want to mess up my pretty dress, would you?"

With a silent nod, Serena positioned herself beneath the shelf, her trembling limbs bracing against the floor. Not-Serena stepped onto her back, her heels pressing into the human's spine. The pain was sharp, but she gritted her teeth and bore it, desperate to keep from crying out. The creature's weight was lighter than it should've been, given her human form, but the thought of what she was doing was almost too much to handle.

Not-Serena reached up, her fingers brushing against the dusty book spines. "Hold still," she ordered, her voice a cold imitation of Serena's cheer. "I don't want to fall and mess up my outfit."

Serena's muscles burned as she supported the creature's weight, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The bookshelf was so close, yet so far out of reach. Not-Serena's heels dug into her back, the pressure unbearable. She couldn't take much more of this, she thought, her eyes watering with pain.

But the creature seemed unfazed, her eyes scanning the bookshelf with a scholarly intensity. It was as if she had forgotten Serena was even there, a mere stepping stone to her goals. The human's body was a vessel, a tool to be used and discarded as needed.

Serena felt the weight on her back shift slightly as Not-Serena pulled a book from the shelf. The pressure eased, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the ache in her muscles begin to subside.

The creature flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the text with an intensity that seemed almost hungry. The room was silent except for the rustle of pages and the distant sound of a tree branch scraping against a window. The moon cast a pallid light over the dusty floorboards, throwing eerie shadows across the pages. She wasn't really reading the book for any reason- She was just curious to see what was so important that the human needed it. Well... That, and to torment her pet a little more, of course.

Serena, for her part, remained as still as possible, the creature's weight still pressing down on her back. The heels of her shoes had left small indents in the human's skin, but she didn't dare move. Each page turn was a silent command to hold still, and she complied, her muscles trembling from the effort. The book Not-Serena held was old, the pages yellowed with age, and it took quite a bit of effort not to accidentally tear any of the pages.

But then, something strange happened. The trembling grew more intense, until it was clear it wasn't just from the strain of holding her position. Her legs began to quiver, and she felt a single drop of warm wetness start to trickle down her thigh.

No, she thought, horrified. Not here. Not now!

The creature looked down at her with a puzzled expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice still a disturbing copy of Serena's own.

Serena felt her face flush with humiliation. "I... I need to go to the bathroom," she desperately asked as she felt her bladder nearing its breaking point. The pressure was intense, and she couldn't hold it in much longer.

Not-Serena's eyes narrowed, the smile never leaving her lips. "Oh, my," she said, feigning concern. "Well, I suppose we can't have you making a mess, can we?" She stepped off of Serena, her heels clicking against the floor as she landed. "Let's go find you somewhere to relieve yourself."

The human trainer's legs wobbled with relief as she stood up, her cheeks flushed with a mix of pain and embarrassment. She followed the creature out of the room, her mind racing. Could she somehow escape? Use this moment of weakness to her advantage? But the futanari's grip on her arm was firm, almost painfully so, a constant reminder of who was in control.

They emerged from the gloom of the house into the moonlit night, the cool air a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. Not-Serena's grip didn't loosen as she led Serena to a nearby tree, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Go ahead," she said, her voice still a mockery of Serena's own. "Pee on the tree like a good little pet."

Serena's cheeks burned with humiliation, but she had no choice. She pulled away from the creature's grip and stumbled over to the tree, her legs still shaking from her ordeal. The rough bark scraped against her palms as she leaned against it, the coldness of the wood grounding her in the reality of her situation. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the creature's smirking face, and let go. The warm stream of urine pattered against the tree trunk, a sound that seemed far too loud in the otherwise silent night.

The relief was immediate, a brief moment of respite in the sea of horror that had become her life. But it was over all too soon, and she opened her eyes to find Not-Serena watching her with no small amount of amusement.

"Look at you," the creature sneered, her voice a harsh imitation of Serena's own, "reduced to a mere animal, pissing in the dirt like the pathetic creature you are."

The words were a knife to Serena's heart, each one twisting deeper than the last. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn't dare let them fall. The creature had a way of using her emotions against her, feeding off her pain like some kind of twisted vampire.

"Come on," Not-Serena said, her voice a cruel parody of Serena's own. "Don't tell me you're going to start crying like a baby now? That's not very trainer-like, is it?"

The real Serena flinched at the barb, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she knew it was pointless. The creature had all the power, all the control. She was nothing but a plaything, a pawn in its twisted game.

"Don't you ever get tired of being so mean?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

Not-Serena tilted her head, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Mean?" she repeated, her voice a mocking echo of Serena's sweetness. "I'm just doing a little thing called 'being honest.' Really, you should be thanking me!"

Serena's eyes shot up, anger flaring in her chest. "Thank you?" she spat, her voice trembling. "For what? For making my life a living hell?"

"...Well, yes. What else?"

At Serena's disbelieving face, Not-Serena chuckled, the sound sending chills down her spine. "Oh, you're so melodramatic," she said, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm just giving you what you deserve. After all, if you weren't so weak, none of this would've happened, would it?"

The creature's words stung, hitting a nerve that Serena hadn't even realized was exposed. She'd always been so focused on becoming a strong trainer, on making her mother proud, that she'd never stopped to consider that she could be seen as weak by others. It was a stark realization that made her feel smaller than she ever had before.

But anger began to replace the fear and despair. "You don't know anything about me," she said, her voice stronger than she felt. "You're just a... a thing that takes what it wants. You don't know what it's like to have dreams, or feelings, or friends!"

Not-Serena's smile grew colder, if that was even possible. "Friends?" she repeated, her voice dripping with scorn. "Have you even been listening to me this entire time? I've been chasing after a friend this whole time!"

The mention of the missing comrade sent a shiver down Serena's spine. It was a stark reminder of the creature's true nature, and the lengths it would go to for revenge.

"Y-yes," she stuttered, trying to keep her voice steady. "But friends... they don't do things like this to each other."

"Exactly," Not-Serena said, her smile growing wider, revealing perfectly clean teeth. "But we're not friends, are we? You're just a human, a means to an end. And when I've found what I'm looking for, I'll have no use for you."

Her words hit Serena like a cold, hard fist to the gut. She knew the creature had no affection for her, but to hear it spoken so bluntly was like having her soul ripped out.

"But..." she began, her voice shaking, "What about your... your friend? What will you do when you find them?"

Not-Serena's expression grew thoughtful, as if the question had never truly occurred to her. She tapped a finger against her cheek, the gesture eerily similar to one Serena had done herself a hundred times before. "Hmm," she murmured, "I never really thought about it, to be honest."

The silence that followed was almost deafening, the two figures bathed in the cold light of the moon. The creature's gaze grew distant, and for a moment, Serena could almost believe she was looking at a real person, not the twisted mockery of one.

"But," Not-Serena continued, her voice growing darker, "I do know one thing." She stepped closer to Serena, her eyes gleaming with malice. "When I find them, I will make the human who took them pay. And you... you'll be there to watch it all unfold."

Serena's stomach turned at the thought. To be forced to witness such horror, all because she'd stumbled into the creature's path... It was a fate she didn't wish on anyone. But she knew better than to argue. Instead, she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Without a word, Not-Serena nodded back, satisfied. Then, she wordlessly pulled out the Pokeball, pressed the button, and after another flash of red, everything went dark once more.

Day 31

Not-Serena let out a satisfied groan as she slammed the rented room's door closed, the echo of the sound reverberating through the narrow hallway. The journey to find her missing comrade had led her to a quaint little town, and she had wasted no time in booking a room at the local Pokémon Center. The place was a hotbed of rumors and information, and she knew that if she played her cards right, she'd find some clue as to her friend's whereabouts.

But as the days stretched on with no leads, the stress began to take its toll. The human form she had stolen from Serena was starting to wear thin, the constant need to maintain the illusion of cheer and innocence was exhausting. She collapsed onto the bed, the springs protesting with a groan beneath her. The room was a mess, a stark contrast to the pristine exterior she presented to the world. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and the bed was unmade, a clear indication of her priorities.

The creature rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger, feeling the beginnings of a headache creep in. "This is ridiculous," she murmured to herself, her voice a gruff imitation of Serena's. "Why can't I find a single trace of them?"

With a sigh, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Pokeball, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of her hand. She had to admit, she enjoyed letting the human out to take the edge off every now and then. It was like a twisted form of therapy, allowing her to take out her frustrations without any real consequences.

As the light from the Pokeball faded, the real Serena stumbled out, her eyes wide with fear. The creature could almost taste the human's terror, and she felt a thrill run through her body. "Looks like it's time for your next workout," she said, her voice a mockery of cheerfulness.

Serena's eyes searched the room frantically, looking for any sign of escape or hope. "How long has it been?" she asked, her voice shaking. "How long have I been in there?"

Not-Serena glanced over at the trembling human, her smile never wavering. "Oh, not too long," she said breezily, tossing the Pokeball onto the bed. "Just a few weeks."

Serena felt her knees buckle at the revelation. Weeks? It had felt like she had only been in the Pokeball for less than a minute!

"You're joking," she whispered, her voice barely a croak.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Not-Serena's smile grew, the corners of her eyes crinkling in a way that sent chills down Serena's spine. The human felt her stomach drop as she realized the true extent of her captivity. She had lost track of time in the confines of the Pokeball, the endless darkness and the creature's depraved games blurring the days together.

"Now, let's get down to business," the futanari said, her voice still a twisted parody of Serena's own. "I need to blow off some steam, and you're just the tool for the job."

Serena's heart raced as she watched the creature saunter over to the bed, her movements sinuous and predatory. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room, the only source of light in the otherwise dim space. She could see the lust in Not-Serena's eyes, the hunger for power and control that had driven her to do such monstrous things.

"On the bed," Not-Serena ordered, her voice a chilling imitation of Serena's own. "Face down, arms at your sides."

Serena's stomach twisted into a knot as she did as she was told, her legs shaking as she climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight, the springs protesting slightly as she lay down, her cheek pressed against the cool fabric. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear into the darkness, to escape the horror that was her reality.

Not-Serena didn't give her time to process before she climbed onto the bed as well, her transformed body straddling Serena's hips. The human could feel the heat radiating from the creature, and she couldn't help but whimper as she felt the firm press of the futanari's erection against her lower back.

"Please..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not again."

But Not-Serena ignored her pleas, her eyes burning with a cold, sadistic fire. She reached down and grabbed a fistful of Serena's hair, pulling her head back. "You're going to take it like a good little pet," she growled, her voice a harsh imitation of Serena's sweet tone.

With a swift movement, the futanari positioned herself behind the human, her cock pressing against Serena's pussy. The trainer's body tensed as she felt the intrusion, a scream of pain and horror caught in her throat as Not-Serena pushed inside without any preamble. The creature's movements were rough, almost violent, each thrust a declaration of dominance.

Serena's eyes watered with pain, her body trembling with each powerful surge of the creature's hips. The room was filled with the sickening sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the scent of sweat and fear thick in the air. Not-Serena's breath was hot on her neck, her hands digging into Serena's hips, holding her in place as she drove into her with a brutal force that spoke of the anger and frustration that had been festering inside her.

All of a sudden, though, Not-Serena paused.

"What's wrong?" Serena's voice was barely a whisper, hope fluttering in her chest.

"Oh, nothing," Not-Serena casually said, her breath hot against Serena's neck, "just realized I stuck my dick in the wrong hole."

With a twisted smile, she withdrew from the human's pussy, the wetness and heat leaving a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. Serena felt a brief moment of relief, only for it to be replaced with a new, gut-wrenching fear as the futanari's cock moved to press against her anus.

"Please," she whimpered, her voice trembling with dread. "No, please, not there."

But Not-Serena was already pushing, the tip of her cock breaching the tight ring of muscle. The pain was searing, and Serena could feel herself tearing as the futanari invaded her body in the most personal and degrading way possible. She bit her lip hard to keep from screaming, her nails digging into the bed sheets.

With a sadistic chuckle, Not-Serena began to move again, her hips slamming into Serena's ass with a brutal rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of pain and humiliation crashing over the human, her body struggling to accept the unyielding intrusion.

Serena's eyes squeezed shut, her teeth gritted against the pain. The creature's cock was thick and unforgiving, stretching her beyond what she thought was possible. Each movement felt like a violation, a desecration of her very soul. But she knew better than to fight back, to do anything that might provoke the creature's wrath.

The bed squealed in protest with each brutal thrust, the sound a grim counterpoint to Serena's muffled sobs. The creature didn't care for her pain, didn't care about the tears that slipped down her cheeks to dampen the pillow. All she cared about was the release she sought, the power she held over her captive.

The pain was unbearable, a living, pulsing beast that consumed her every thought. Yet, she knew she had to endure it. If she didn't, if she didn't play the part of the obedient pet, who knew what fresh horrors Not-Serena would dream up? So, she bit down on the pillow and took it, her body shaking with each invasive push.

The futanari's hips slapped against her ass, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet hotel room. The creature's grunts of pleasure were music to her own ears, a symphony of pain and suffering that she had to endure. Each time she felt the futanari's cock hit her deepest depths, she had to bite back a scream. But she knew she couldn't. She had to be silent, had to be the perfect little toy.

But something strange began to happen. With each thrust, the pain began to give way to something else. It started as a small spark, a flicker of sensation that grew with each passing moment. The fear and horror began to meld with something... else. Something warm and... enjoyable. It was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn't ignore it. Her body was responding in ways she never thought possible, her pussy growing wet with need, her nipples hardening against the rough fabric of the bed.

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at the wall, not quite believing what was happening. Was she really... enjoying this? The creature's cock slammed into her over and over, and she couldn't help but arch her back slightly, silently begging for more. Her mind rebelled at the thought, but her body was betraying her.

With each deep, hard thrust, she felt her orgasm building, a strange sense of pleasure coiling in her stomach like a serpent. The pain was still there, but it had transformed into something darker, something more primal. It was as if she was being claimed, marked as the creature's own, and a part of her reveled in it.

Her hips began to move in time with Not-Serena's, her body responding of its own accord. A small, desperate sound escaped her throat, and she felt the creature's grip on her hips tighten. The futanari's breath grew heavier, her movements becoming more erratic. "That's it," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "You're mine now."

The words sent a shiver down Serena's spine, even as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm building within her. It was as if her body had turned against her, seeking pleasure from the very thing that brought her pain. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop. The feeling grew stronger with each thrust, the pressure building until she felt like she was going to shatter into a million pieces.

And then it hit her. The pleasure crashed over her like a wave, a scream torn from her throat as she climaxed. The creature let out a growl of triumph, her own release following swiftly after.

The room was silent for a long moment, save for the harsh panting of the two intertwined on the bed. Serena felt... empty. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. What had she become? How could she find any pleasure in this monstrous act?

Not-Serena pulled out with a satisfied grunt, the sound of her cock slipping out of Serena's abused ass making the human shudder. The futanari's weight lifted off of her, and she collapsed onto the mattress, her body feeling boneless and used. "Good girl," Not-Serena purred, her voice a sickly sweet echo of Serena's own. "You're learning your place."

Serena's face was buried in the pillow, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her forced climax. She didn't dare move, didn't dare acknowledge the creature's words. The room was still, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the distant hum of the Pokémon Center's machinery.

Not-Serena climbed off the bed, her cock still hard and gleaming with Serena's fluids. She stretched, her fake body moving with an eerie grace that made Serena's skin crawl. "Now, let's get cleaned up," she said, her voice still a mockery of Serena's own. "We have a big day tomorrow."

Not-Serena grabbed Serena's hair in her tight fist, pulling the human's head up from the pillow. "Move," she ordered, her voice still a disturbing mimic of the cheerful tone Serena had once used. The pain washed over her in a fresh wave as she was dragged off the bed, her body feeling like it had been run through a wringer.

The floor was cold and unforgiving as Not-Serena dragged Serena across the room, her body leaving a trail of sweat and tears. The human's knees scraped against the harsh carpet, sending jolts of pain up her legs as she was pulled into the cramped bathroom. The futanari didn't spare her a second glance, her eyes focused solely on the task at hand. The bright light from the bathroom washed over Serena's bruised and beaten form, casting harsh shadows across the wall.

The creature's grip on her hair was unyielding, and she could feel the blood rushing to her face as she was yanked upright. "You're going to clean up," Not-Serena said, her voice a cold imitation of the cheerful tone that had once been so familiar to her. "You're a mess."

Serena's eyes remained fixed on the floor as she was dragged into the small, cramped bathroom. The harsh light was blinding after the relative darkness of the hotel room, and she had to blink rapidly to adjust. The tiles were cold under her, sending a shiver through her body.

With a final, cruel yank, Not-Serena pulled her to the edge of the bathtub and hoisted her over. The human's legs dangled for a moment before she was unceremoniously dumped into the empty tub. The sudden change in position made her cry out, her bruised and abused body protesting the movement.

The cold porcelain was a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed, and the shock of it sent shivers down her spine. She curled into a fetal position, her arms wrapping around her knees protectively. Not-Serena reached into the tub and put her hand on the faucet, twisting it until the water began to spurt out. It was cold at first, the icy spray making Serena gasp, but it gradually grew warmer, filling the room with steam.

The creature grabbed a bottle of shampoo and squirted a generous amount into her hand. "Hold still," she ordered, her voice still a chilling echo of Serena's own. She didn't dare move as the futanari began to wash her hair, her rough fingers scraping against her scalp, the shampoo stinging her eyes. The water washed over her, carrying away the evidence of her violation, but the memory remained, seared into her very soul.

As Not-Serena scrubbed her down, Serena couldn't help but feel like she was being marked, claimed once again. The water grew pink with blood and cum, swirling down the drain as if it were carrying a piece of her dignity with it. Her eyes remained fixed on the tiles, unable to meet the creature's gaze.

The creature's touch was surprisingly gentle as she soaped up Serena's body, her hands gliding over the bruises and cuts with a disturbing tenderness. It was almost as if she was caring for her, but Serena knew better. This was all just part of the game, part of the sick dance they were caught in.

"Turn over," Not-Serena said softly, her voice a gentle whisper that seemed to lack any of the malice she had had so much of a moment ago. Serena hesitated for a moment before complying, rolling onto her back and letting the warm water cascade over her. The futanari began to wash her chest, her soapy hands cupping her breasts with surprising care.

The human couldn't help but let out a small moan as the creature's fingers danced over her nipples, teasing them into hard peaks. Not-Serena's eyes flickered with something that looked suspiciously like affection, and for a brief moment, Serena allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a shred of goodness left in her captor.

The futanari leaned down and whispered, "You're doing so well." The words sent a shiver down the human's spine, a strange mix of fear and... something else. Something that felt suspiciously like hope.

With a soft sigh, Not-Serena turned the water to a gentle trickle, the warmth enveloping Serena like a lover's embrace. She grabbed a towel and began to dry her off, her movements tender and almost loving. For a moment, it was as if the creature had forgotten their twisted roles, as if she were truly caring for a beloved friend instead of a kidnapped human whose body she had copied.

Serena stared up at her, confusion swirling in her eyes like the water down the drain. The creature looked down at her, her expression unreadable. "You're... you're treating me like..." she trailed off, her voice small and trembling.

Not-Serena didn't respond, just continued to dry her off, her movements methodical and gentle. The human's body was a canvas of bruises and marks from their previous encounters, but she didn't seem to see them. Instead, she treated Serena as if she were a fragile, precious thing, her touch almost tender.

The futanari helped Serena to her feet, wrapping the towel around her shaking body. "You need to rest," she said, her voice a soothing imitation of concern. "You've had a... taxing day." The real Serena felt a twinge of anger at the mockery, but it was quickly doused by the overwhelming sense of defeat and confusion.

Not-Serena led her back into the hotel room, the warm light from the bathroom casting eerie shadows on the walls. She sat her down on the edge of the bed, the soft mattress a stark contrast to the hard porcelain of the tub. The creature's eyes searched hers, looking for something, but Serena couldn't fathom what.

"Where do you want to sleep tonight?" Not-Serena asked, her voice a disturbing facsimile of Serena's own. "In the Pokeball or on the floor?"

Serena's eyes darted to the Pokeball on the bed, then to the cold, hard floor. She felt a shiver run through her, but, even despite the discomfort, the option was far better than potentially missing even more time. "The floor," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The futanari nodded, a smirk playing on her lips. "Good choice," she said, her voice still a mockery of Serena's cheerful tone. "Now, let's get you ready for bed."

Serena watched, numb, as Not-Serena pulled out a small pillow and blanket from the closet. The creature's eyes never left hers as she laid them out on the floor, creating a makeshift bed. It was a strange sight, seeing her own form so casually dismiss her humanity, but she was too drained to fight back. The softness of the pillow beckoned, promising a brief reprieve from the horror that had become her life.

"Thank you," she murmured, the words sticking in her throat.

Not-Serena nodded, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "You're welcome, dear," she said, her voice a chilling parody of kindness. "But you'd better not try anything stupid."

With that, she shooed Serena down onto the makeshift bed, her own body slipping into the softness of the hotel mattress. The human curled up on the cold floor, the thin blanket doing little to ward off the chill that had settled into her bones. She lay there, listening to the futanari's even breathing, her mind racing.

The earlier brutality still lingered, a raw ache between her legs that seemed to pulse with every heartbeat. But overlaid on that pain was the memory of the gentle bath, the tender touch that had almost made her forget the horror of her situation. It was a strange and confusing contradiction, one that left her feeling even more lost than before.

Serena stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. Why had Not-Serena treated her with such care? Was it part of the game, a new level of psychological torment? Or could it be something else? A flicker of hope, something she hadn't dared to consider in the weeks she'd been trapped in this nightmare.

The bath replayed in her mind, each tender touch a stark contrast to the brutal violation she'd endured. The futanari's eyes had held a glint of something almost... affectionate. It was as if, for a brief moment, she'd been treated not as a plaything, but as a living, feeling being. Serena's thoughts swirled like the water down the drain, trying to make sense of the bizarre shift in Not-Serena's behavior. It was a puzzle she couldn't solve, a piece of the creature's psyche that remained frustratingly out of reach.

Her body, still slick with soap and pain, felt alien under the rough towel. Every stroke brought a reminder of the creature's power, of the way she'd claimed her so completely. Yet, as she lay on the cold floor, the memory of those gentle hands lingered, offering a glimmer of something she hadn't felt in weeks—humanity. The softness of the pillow called to her, a siren's song promising a few hours of reprieve from her hellish reality.

Exhaustion pulled at her eyelids, and she gave in, allowing sleep to take her. Her dreams were a tumult of fear and confusion, the futanari's face switching between a twisted sneer and a concerned smile. She was lost in a sea of doubt, the gentle strokes of the creature's hands in the bath melding with the harshness of their earlier coupling. Her mind was a battleground of hope and despair, the lines between reality and nightmare blurring until she could no longer tell which was which.

She didn't feel very rested.

Day 32

Serena's eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of the new day piercing through the cracks in the hotel curtains. She was acutely aware of the cold floor against her back, and the rough fabric of the blanket. For a moment, she was confused, her thoughts tangled in the fog of a restless sleep. Then reality crashed down on her, a cold, hard weight that she couldn't shake off.

She sat up slowly, her body protesting every movement. The ache between her legs was a stark reminder of the night before, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She looked over at the bed, where Not-Serena lay, still and silent. The futanari's chest rose and fell with the steady rhythm of deep sleep, her serene expression a stark contrast to the monster she had become.

Serena took a deep breath, the scent of the hotel room's stale air filling her lungs. The quiet was almost eerie, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of sounds that accompanied their days. The TV was off, the curtains drawn, the only noise the faint murmur of humans and Pokémon outside, the distant sounds of the center's comings and goings.

Her eyes fell on the Pokeball on the bedside table, a silent sentinel of her captivity. Her heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of fear and anger that she had to force down. Not-Serena slept peacefully, her breaths slow and peaceful. The thought of trying to escape was tempting, but she knew it was futile. The creature would wake in an instant, her predatory instincts honed from weeks of playing this twisted game.

But then she noticed something she hadn't before. Fennekin's Pokeball lay there too, right next to hers. Serena's eyes widened- The idea she'd had all that time ago... Was it time to put it to action?

Summoning all her courage, she inched closer to the Pokeballs, her eyes darting back to the sleeping form of Not-Serena every few moments. Her hand trembled as she reached out to pick them up, her heart hammering in her chest so loudly she was sure it would wake the creature. But the futanari didn't stir.

The Pokeballs felt heavier than she remembered, the weight of her hope and desperation contained within its smooth, cold shell. She clutched it to her chest, feeling the warmth of the creature inside, the bond they shared despite the horrors she'd endured. Carefully, she tiptoed across the room, each step feeling like it could shatter the fragile silence.

When she reached the bathroom, she closed the door with a soft click that seemed to echo through the room. The tiny space was a haven of white tiles and porcelain, a stark contrast to the chaos of her thoughts. She leaned against the sink, her breathing shallow and fast. This was her chance, a sliver of hope in the sea of despair that had become her life.

With trembling hands, she held Fennekin's Pokeball aloft and pressed. A burst of light filled the room, and she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the familiar shape of her Fennekin.

When she opened her eyes again, she gasped. In the place of her fiery little fox, a majestic Delphox stood before her, its fur a radiant mix of orange and white, with a long, flowing tail that danced with flames. The Pokémon looked surprised, its eyes wide and gleaming with intelligence. "F-Fennekin?" she stuttered, her voice shaking.

But Fennekin had evolved. It had been weeks, and she hadn't been there to see it. The guilt stabbed at her heart, a fresh wound on top of the old ones. But now wasn't the time for despair.

"Fen- Delphox," Serena corrected herself as she whispered, "I don't have a lot of time but I need you to listen to me! The one out there, the one that looks like me, she's not me. She's a Ditto, a shape-shifter, and she's been taking my place-"

Delphox cocked its head to the side, curiosity piqued. It was clear that it hadn't understood everything she'd just said, but the urgency in her voice was palpable.

"It's okay, I know it's a lot to take in," Serena assured her, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to trust me. That thing in the bed, that's not me. It's a creature called a Ditto. It can copy anyone, and it's been using my body to... to do terrible things."

With trembling hands, she offered both Pokeballs to Delphox. The Pokémon's eyes grew even wider, its fur ruffling with tension. "You're going to help me, right?" she begged. "You're the only one who can tell the difference. You're the only one who can help me get my life back."

Delphox took the Pokeballs in its paws, its eyes never leaving hers. It felt strange, entrusting her fate to a creature she hadn't seen in weeks, and had only really known for a day, and only barely resembled what she had looked like when she had known it, but she had no other choice. The fire fox took both Pokeballs from Serena, a conflicted look crossing its features.

For what felt like an eternity, the Delphox just stared at her, as if trying to discern the truth in her words. Its eyes darted from her bruised and beaten body to the Pokeballs, then back to her face. The weight of the decision hung in the air, thick and palpable.

Serena watched the creature's expressions, her own heart racing. Every second that ticked by was a second closer to Not-Serena waking up and discovering her plan, and she had no doubt that the creature would retaliate in a way that would make the past weeks of torment seem like a gentle caress.

Delphox, meanwhile, was deep in thought. It had only known the real Serena for a single, frenzied day, when it was just a Fennekin- And it had been quite clear that Serena hadn't been the best Trainer. Not-Serena, though- She had led Delphox through many battles, had made it stronger, had been the one to feed it and give it commands for all these weeks. The futanari had been its trainer, had cared for it, had made it stronger. The bond between them was stronger than the one it'd had with the human that was now asking her to betray its trainer- But weeks of being with Not-Serena had changed everything. And, considering how much all Pokemon valued growing stronger... Well, the choice was obvious. 

With a heavy heart, Serena watched as the Delphox shook its head, its gaze never leaving hers. It didn't need to speak; she could see the answer in its eyes. The creature didn't understand the full extent of what had happened, but it knew that Not-Serena had been the one to evolve it, to give it purpose and power. And in the Pokémon world, that bond was sacred.

"No..." Serena whispered, as her final hope for salvation was dashed- But she didn't get the chance to say anything else before Delphox raised her Pokeball and pressed the button.

With a flash of light, she felt the cold, metallic grip of her own Pokeball clamp down around her. She was yanked back into the tiny space, the light of the bathroom winking out in an instant, leaving her in complete darkness once again.

Serena's heart sank, the weight of her failure crushing her spirits. She had hoped, against all reason, that Delphox would see through Not-Serena's deception, that their bond would be enough. But she had underestimated the creature's loyalty to the one who had made it strong.

Everything went dark once more, and Serena lost consciousness.

Meanwhile, back in the bedroom, Not-Serena's eyes snapped open the moment the bathroom door clicked shut. Her breathing remained even, her body still as she listened to the muffled whispers on the other side of the door. She had been faking sleep, her senses honed from weeks of playing the role of Serena, and she hadn't missed the human's sneaky approach to the Pokeballs.

Not-Serena smirked as she heard the sound of a Pokeball's capturing mechanism activating. It had been a bit of a gamble, to treat Serena so nicely last night to lower her guard, and to trust Delphox to make a certain choice, but Not-Serena was a Pokemon too- She knew how they thought, and she knew just how much Pokemon valued strength.

The gamble had worked out beautifully- Now, with her last hope dashed, Serena would finally accept her place. The futanari slid out of bed and sauntered over to the bathroom door, her bare feet padding softly against the floor.

"It seems your little escape plan didn't work out," Not-Serena said, her voice a mix of amusement and mock pity. She turned the doorknob, her smirk growing wider as she stepped into the room. "Looks like you're going back to where you belong." She knew Serena couldn't hear her, being inside the Pokeball... But she couldn't help herself.

She opened the bathroom door, and caught sight of Delphox holding both Pokeballs. The creature looked up at her, its eyes reflecting the flickering flames of its own tail. Without a word, Delphox offered her the Pokeball containing the real Serena. Not-Serena took it with a smug smile, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the human's failure.

"Good girl," she cooed, stroking Delphox's soft fur. The Pokémon leaned into the touch, its eyes half-closed in pleasure. The bond between them was undeniable, a testament to the care and training Not-Serena had provided. "You've made the right choice. Now, let's get ready for the day."

Day 50

The fire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows across Not-Serena's furrowed brow as she sat cross-legged on the campsite's picnic blanket.

Her thoughts were a tumult of worry and anger as she stared into the dancing flames. The weeks had turned into a blur of battles and towns, but still no sign of her missing comrade. She'd hoped that taking on Serena's form and her journey would lead her to some clue, some whisper of where the trainer had taken her friend. But the trail had gone cold, leaving her with nothing but a burning desire for vengeance.

The night air was thick with the scent of roasting marshmallows, the sweetness doing little to lighten the mood. Not-Serena poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes narrowed in contemplation. She'd talked to so many people, seen so many places, but the answer remained elusive. It was infuriating, a taunting game of hide and seek that she was desperate to win.

Delphox laid beside her, its majestic form sprawled out on the blanket. The creature's eyes were half-closed, watching the flames with a serene expression that grated on Not-Serena's nerves. Since that morning in the hotel, she had allowed it out of its Pokeball more frequently, now that she didn't have to worry about it finding out about her deception.

"This is ridiculous," Not-Serena groused, poking at the fire with a stick. "Fifty days of searching and nothing. Just battles and badges and a bunch of useless humans who don't know anything about what's really important."

Delphox looked up at her, its eyes reflecting the flickering flames. It could feel the tension rolling off its trainer in waves, the same tension that had been present since their journey had begun. Not-Serena had become increasingly frustrated with every passing day, her anger at the elusive trainer mixing with her fear for her missing friend.

"I know, I know," Not-Serena sighed, scratching the fox's ear. "But we have to keep looking. I can't just give up."

Delphox tilted its head, its fiery tail swishing behind it. It knew Not-Serena was getting desperate, the frustration clear in her tightened jaw and clenched fists. It hadn't actually known about Not-Serena's purpose for the journey, but it could feel the urgency in her commands and the desperation in her voice every time they stopped to ask about the missing Pokémon.

The Delphox closed its eyes and took a deep breath, focusing its psychic powers. It had picked up bits and pieces of Not-Serena's thoughts over the weeks, the worries and fears wrapped around the search for her friend like a tight coil.

Delphox's mind reached out, stretching beyond the confines of their campsite and into the vast expanse of the region. It sifted through the thoughts and emotions of nearby Pokémon, searching for the one that matched the sadness and longing that it felt from its trainer. It was a subtle art, one that took patience and practice, but the creature had grown adept at it during its time with Not-Serena.

The fire crackled, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky, and suddenly, Delphox's eyes snapped open. It had found something—a faint presence, echoing through the psychic maelstrom of the world. The presence was faint, but it was unmistakable—it was Not-Serena's friend, the one she had been searching for.

But instead of the desperation or fear it expected to find, there was...

Delphox burst into laughter.

The sudden sound was jarring, a stark contrast to the tension that had been building around the campfire. Not-Serena's head snapped up, her expression one of confusion and irritation. "What's so funny?" she snapped.

Delphox couldn't contain itself, its laughter bubbling up like a spring, the flames on its tail flickering with each giggle. Not-Serena's irritation grew into anger, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of purple. "What is it?" she demanded, her voice tight. "What could possibly be so amusing?"

Delpfox's laughter subsided into a series of soft chuckles, its fluffy tail still twitching with mirth. It took a moment for the Pokémon to regain its composure, its eyes sparkling with amusement as it looked up at Not-Serena. Her eyes narrowed, before she let out a sigh, and let go of her anger, likely assuming Delphox's amusement had nothing to do with her.

Eventually, once Delphox had managed to compose itself, it refocused its power, and sent a telepathic message to Not-Serena's missing friend.

The response was a simple understanding, and an assurance of being on its way.

For a while, the two of them simply sat there, with Not-Serena being completely unaware of the silent communication that had just occurred between Delphox and her friend. The fire danced, throwing grotesque shadows on the trees around them, almost seeming to mock the grim reality of their situation.

And then, it happened.

The sound of rustling leaves grew louder, and a figure emerged from the darkness, its form illuminated by the flickering firelight. Not-Serena jumped shock, her heart racing in anticipation.

"Meeeeeewwwwww! (Heeeellllllloooooooooo!)" A voice cheerfully cried, piercing through the stillness of the night.

Not-Serena's eyes widened as a flash of pink light coalesced into the shape of a small, pink, feline creature. It had wide, blue eyes that sparkled with mischief, and its fur looked softer than the plushest blanket- But the miniature suitcase it held and the flower necklace it was wearing around its neck were in stark contrast to its mythical appearance.

"Mew, (Long time no see,)" it happily giggled as it floated closer to the campfire, its eyes sparkling with mischief. Not-Serena's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the creature immediately—it was a Mew, the elusive and legendary Pokémon that had been the target of her relentless search. The sight of its tiny, pink form, bobbing towards them with an unmistakable spring in its step, filled her with a mix of relief and rage.

"You little shit!" Not-Serena roared, leaping to her feet as the Mew floated closer. Her fists clenched at her sides, the fluffy tails of her hair whipping around her in a fiery halo of anger. "Do you know what I've been through to find you? The humiliation, the battles, the...the...the indignities!"

Mew looked up at her, its expression one of utter confusion. It tilted its head to the side, its eyes blinking rapidly. "Mew, mew, (Wait, wait,)" it chuckled nervously. "Mew mew, mew? Mew! Mew? Mew, mew... Mew! (You're not mad at me, are you? I was just on vacation! Didn't I tell you? You know, in the human world, they have these things called 'all-inclusive resorts'... it's where you go to get pampered and eat all the food you want without worrying about anything!)"

Not-Serena's eyes narrowed, her rage barely contained. "You think this is a joke?" she hissed, her voice a dangerous whisper. "You think disappearing for weeks on end, leaving me to deal with the mess you left behind, is a vacation?"

The Mew's cheerful expression faltered, its eyes widening with realization. "Mew mew! (Oh no!)" it gasped, paws flying to cover its mouth. "Mew! Meeeew! (I forgot to tell you! I am sooooooo sorry!)" It didn't sound very sorry, though, its giggle bubbling through its words like a brook through rocks.

Not-Serena felt the tension in her body ease, the anger draining away like water from a bathtub. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a sigh that was half relief, half exasperation. "You forgot?" she said, her voice flat. "You just forgot to tell me you were going on vacation?"

The Mew nodded vigorously, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Mew! Mew! (It's all those massages and those fancy drinks with umbrellas in them! They make you forget all your troubles!)" It giggled again, and Not-Serena felt the last of her anger dissipate like mist in the morning sun.

"Fine," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "But next time, maybe send a postcard or something?" Despite her words, she couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. The relief washed over her like a cool breeze on a hot day. Her friend was safe, and she had found her.

The Mew, seemingly oblivious to the horror it had put Not-Serena through, giggled again. "Mew! (I'll keep that in mind!)" it said, floating closer to the fire. "Mew? (So, what have you been up to?)" It glanced over at Delphox, who was watching the interaction with a bemused expression.

"Oh, you know," Not-Serena said, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Just the usual—faking being a human, fighting in battles, taking over gyms, getting a little... extra curricular action." She gestured to the bulge in her pants' crotch with a smirk, and the Mew's eyes widened even further.

"Mew!? (You what!?)" it squealed, a look of pure, unfiltered amusement crossing its features. "Mew!? (You pretended to be a human!?)"

The Mew's laughter was like the tinkling of a bell, light and infectious, despite the horror of the situation. Not-Serena's smirk grew wider as she watched the pink creature's eyes dart to the bulge in her pants again, the humor in the situation not lost on her. "It's not all fun and games," she said, trying to keep the grin from her voice. "There's been a lot of...'hands-on' work involved."

The Mew's giggles grew louder, its body bobbing up and down as it floated in the air. "Mew, (Oh, I can just imagine,)" it squealed, waving its tiny paws in the air. "Mew, mew, mew! (You, pretending to be a human, playing with those little creatures like you're one of them!)" It couldn't contain itself, doubling over with mirth, its fur ruffling with each gasping breath.

Delphox watched the exchange with a mix of confusion and amusement. It had never seen its trainer like this—so genuinely cheerful. But it couldn't deny that the relief was palpable in the air, a welcome change from the constant tension that had been present since their journey had begun.

"Mew? (So, where is this human?)" Mew asked, still giggling. "Mew! (I want to see what kind of trouble you've gotten into!)"

Not-Serena's smirk grew into a full-blown grin, and she leaned closer to the fire. "Oh, she's right here," she said, patting the Pokeball on her waist. "Just taking a little break from the whole 'human' thing."

Mew's eyes grew wide as saucers, and its laughter abruptly stopped. "Mew... (You didn't...)" it whispered, "Mew... (You couldn't have...)"

"Oh, but I did," Not-Serena said with a wink, a smug smile playing on her lips. She reached down and picked up the Pokeball, holding it up to the light. "Would you like to see?"

Mew's eyes went even wider, if that was possible, and it nodded frantically. "Mew, mew mew! (Yes, yes, I absolutely must see this!)"

With a flick of her wrist, Not-Serena released the real Serena from her Pokeball. The human stumbled out, blinking in the firelight, looking utterly dumbfounded by the sight of the legendary Pokémon before her.

Mew's amazement was palpable, its eyes darting between the human and the futanari who had been her tormentor for the past fifty days. "Mew! (Wow!)" it murmured, floating closer to inspect Serena's bruised and battered body. "Mew! Mew, mew! (You really put her through the wringer! Look at her, she's barely holding herself together!)"

Not-Serena couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at the Mew's words. She had indeed broken Serena's will, turning the once hopeful girl into a quivering mess. The human's eyes darted around the campsite, confused and terrified. Her naked body was adorned with bruises and marks from weeks of abuse, her spirit visibly crushed under the weight of her captivity.

"Mew, mew, (Well, well,)" Mew said, floating closer to Serena. "Mew, mew? (You've had quite the adventure, haven't you?)" It reached out a paw and poked Serena's cheek gently, the girl flinching at the sudden contact. "Mew. Mew. (You're lucky to have a trainer like her. She's really looked after you.)"

Serena stared at the ground, her eyes wide with fear. The Mew's touch was light, but it was a reminder of the power dynamics she'd been forced into. Not-Serena's grin grew wider, watching the exchange with amusement.

"Mew, (Oh, don't be shy,)" the Mew chided, poking Serena again. "You're quite the little trooper, aren't you?" It chuckled to itself, fluttering around Serena in a circle. "Mew, mew. Mew. (Look at you, all beaten up and bruised. What a good little pet you've been for her.)"

The realization that even this legendary Pokémon saw her as nothing but a plaything for her captor brought a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over Serena. She flinched as the Mew reached out and began to pet her, its tiny hands smoothing over her tangled hair, its touch feather-light and yet suffocating in its condescension.

"She's learned her place," Not-Serena said, her voice dripping with pride. "And she's going to keep on learning, aren't you?" She stepped closer to Serena, her eyes boring into the human's soul, a silent threat that sent chills down her spine.

Serena took a deep, shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "I-I thought," she stuttered, "after you found your friend, you'd let me go."

Not-Serena's smile never faltered, but her eyes grew cold. "Well, yes, that was the plan," she mused, her gaze flicking from the Mew to Serena. "How naïve of you, dear. I've grown quite attached to having you around."

Serena's heart sank as she took in the words, feeling the weight of her new reality settle around her. "But, but you said you were just looking for your friend!" she protested weakly.

"And I found them, didn't I?" Not-Serena said, her smile as cold as ice. "But I've also found something else along the way—entertainment." She stepped closer to Serena, her eyes glinting with malice. "You see, you're much more fun to have around than I ever anticipated."

Serena's eyes filled with tears as she stared at the Mew, desperation clawing at her chest. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please, let me go. I'll do anything."

The Mew looked at her with a mix of curiosity and amusement, as if it couldn't quite decide if it should feel pity or continue to find the situation hilarious. It hovered closer to Not-Serena, eyeing the human with a coy smile.

"Well, now that we're all reunited," Not-Serena said, tossing the Pokeball to Mew, "why don't you decide what to do with her?"

Mew caught the ball with surprising grace for something so small, holding it up to the light to examine it. Its eyes twinkled mischievously as it considered its newfound power. "Meeewwww... (Hmm...)" it mused, tapping a finger to its chin. "Meeeewwww... (Let me think for a bit...)"

The silence stretched on, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the stillness of the night. Serena's heart hammered in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears like a drum. Not-Serena watched the exchange with a smug smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the human's desperation.

Finally, Mew spoke up, its voice light and airy. "Mew, mew, (You know, I've always wanted a pet human,)" it said, twirling the Pokeball between its paws. "Mew, mew. (Someone to clean up after me, to do all the little things I can't be bothered with.)" It looked over at Not-Serena, its eyes gleaming with excitement. "Mew. Mew. (I think we should keep her. She's obviously well-trained.)"

The words were like a knife to Serena's gut. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized that not only was she not going to be set free, but she was now going to be passed around like some kind of trophy between the two monstrous Pokémon.

"You hear that?" Not-Serena said, her smile growing even more smug. "Your new master has spoken. And I think we should honor its wish, don't you?"

Serena felt the last shreds of hope slip through her fingers like sand. The weight of despair settled in her stomach like a cold stone as she realized the futility of her struggle. She had tried so hard to escape, to regain her dignity, but it was clear now that she was nothing but a toy to these creatures. A plaything to be used and discarded at their whim.

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, her eyes fixed on the flickering fire. The flames seemed to mock her with their freedom, dancing and leaping without care. Not-Serena and Mew looked down at her with expressions of smug satisfaction, their laughter echoing through the night like a chorus of demons.

Day 812

"Wakey-wakey, pet!"

Serena's eyes snapped open, the all too familiar voice of Not-Serena piercing the quiet solitude of her cage. The dim light seeping through the cracks told her it was morning again, and she felt a dull ache in her body from the night's 'play'. She had lost track of the days, but she knew it had been years. Years of being passed around, used, and abused by the trio of sadistic Pokémon.

The apartment was small but well-kept, with various Pokémon items scattered around. The smell of burnt toast filled the air as Mew floated over to the kitchen, its laughter echoing off the walls. Not-Serena's futanari form strutted over to the cage, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. She unlocked the door and gestured for Serena to come out, her naked body trembling slightly.

The collar around Serena's neck was cold and heavy, a constant reminder of her status. It had been a gift from the trio on their one-year 'anniversary', a symbol of ownership and control. It didn't just signify her captivity; It had a shock mechanism that Not-Serena had used frequently in the early days to keep her in line.

Serena crawled out of the cage, her body moving stiffly from the lack of movement. She had long ago given up on the hope of escape, resigning herself to a life of servitude to her Pokémon captors. The collar was tight, but she had grown used to it, the pain now a dull throb that she barely noticed unless it was activated.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice hoarse from disuse. She kept her eyes downcast, not wanting to incur the wrath of Not-Serena.

"Mew, mew, mew! (Hello, hello, human-pet!)" Mew chirped, popping into the room, a plate of charred toast in its paws. It hovered over to the table, setting it down with a clatter. "Mew? Mew! (Are you ready for another wonderful day? I know I am!)"

Serena forced a smile, her eyes flickering over to the plate. Her stomach growled, but she knew better than to reach for the food without permission. The last time she had done so, she had been zapped by the collar. She had learned the hard way that she was only allowed to eat when and what they decided.

Delphox, having noticed the hungry gaze, sauntered over with a smug look on its fox-like face. It had grown larger and more powerful with each victory, its fur sleek and well-groomed. It picked up a bowl with its telekinetic powers and began to fill it with what looked like dry kibble. Serena had used to hate the taste, but nowadays, she didn't particularly mind it. It was food, after all, and she had learned to be grateful for what she was given.

With a flick of its wrist, the bowl floated over to her, landing with a gentle clatter on the floor. "Phox! (Breakfast time!)" it announced, cheerfully acting as though their dynamic were a perfectly normal situation to be in. Serena wanted to beg for anything else, any other kind of food, but she knew better than to ask for anything else. She had long ago lost the luxury of choice.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she picked up the bowl and began to nibble at the kibble. It wasn't much, but it was something to fill the void in her stomach. The three Pokémon watched her eat, their expressions a mix of amusement and pride.

"We've got a big day ahead of us," Not-Serena said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "We're going to the Pokémon League! Can you believe it, pet?"

Serena looked up from her meal, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear. The Pokémon League was the ultimate challenge for trainers, a place where dreams were made and shattered. She knew the trio had been aiming for it, but she had never thought she would be part of it.

"Y-yes, mistress," she stuttered, setting the bowl aside. "What can I do to help?"

Not-Serena leaned in close, her expression one of mock concern. "You're going to help us train, of course," she whispered, her breath hot against Serena's ear. "You're going to be the perfect little sparring partner for Delphox and Mew. Won't you?"

Delphox's eyes narrowed, the flames on its tail flickering in anticipation. It knew what that meant—another round of 'training' where it could unleash its power without holding back. The human was surprisingly resilient, but she always ended up on the floor, bruised and broken.

Mew hovered closer, a wicked smile spreading across its face. "Mew, mew! (Oh, this is going to be fun!)" it exclaimed. "Mew! Mew, mew! (I always love testing out my new ideas on you! Gosh, it's like playing with a live action figure!)"

Serena swallowed hard, her heart racing in her chest. She had become all too familiar with the 'training sessions'. They were a twisted blend of pain, humiliation, and fear that, thankfully, only occurred ever-so-often. Still, she knew better than to argue. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Good girl," Not-Serena said, her hand trailing down Serena's cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. "Now, let's get started, shall we?"

Serena never did get free from her new life.

Months turned into years, and the once vibrant and hopeful trainer became a mere shadow of her former self. The Pokémon League had long since been conquered, the trio's reign one of terror and laughter. They had moved from town to town, their infamy spreading like wildfire. Everybody knew of the Trainer who defeated whole teams of six with only two Pokemon- but none of them knew of the human who was nothing but a silent spectator to their power.

Serena had learned to accept her role, to some extent. The collar around her neck had become a part of her, a constant companion that whispered silent threats of pain with every movement. She had grown accustomed to the pain, to the humiliation, and to the fear. It was all she knew now.

The world outside the apartment had grown fuzzy and distant, a memory of a life she could never return to. In its place, she had found a new purpose—to serve her Pokémon masters. She had become a silent witness to their endless games, a living prop in their quest for power and amusement.

Fortunately, her obedience was rewarded- The shocks from her collar grew less frequent, and the 'training sessions' grew less intense. The trio had settled into a routine, and Serena had become a well-behaved pet. They had even started to treat her with a twisted sense of affection, of sorts. Delphox in particular had developed a fondness for her, often bringing her treats when she had performed particularly well in her 'sparring' sessions, or followed orders beyond simply doing what she was told. It sometimes even allowed Serena to watch the television with it, curled up on the couch together in the evenings.

Mew had grown bored of the constant abuse, and had moved on to more elaborate pranks that didn't always involve physical harm. It had discovered a knack for transforming into various objects and jumpscaring the apartment's fellow inhabitants, including Serena, who by this point had learned to laugh along with the Mew's antics, even if the fear never truly left her eyes.

Not-Serena had grown accustomed to her new life as Serena's tormentor and caretaker, the thrill of vengeance slowly morphing into a strange sense of responsibility. She had become a master of her human form, the lines between herself and the body she'd been transformed into for so long blurring until she could hardly remember what it felt like to be a mere blob of purple goo. The once sadistic impulses had been tempered by a peculiar fondness for the human girl she'd once used for her own twisted amusement. The human was obedient, almost too much so, and it was both comforting and eerie to see her unquestioning acceptance of her role. Whenever Not-Serena fucked her, Serena took it with a quiet grace that spoke volumes about the depth of her defeat. She'd even kind of come to look forward to the pleasurable feeling of Not-Serena's thick dick pistoning in and out of her holes, though she'd never admit it out loud.

Serena had long ago lost count of the days, the weeks, the years she had spent as a captive. The once-bright spark of hope had faded to a dull ember, smoldering in the ashes of her shattered dreams. She knew the world had moved on without her, that her friends and family all thought she was living the dream as a legendary trainer, mistaking Not-Serena for her. But she remained, a silent servant to the whims of her captors. In a strange way, Serena had found a twisted peace in her new existence. Her days were filled with mundane chores and 'training' sessions that had become almost ritualistic, a dance of pain and submission she had learned to endure. The trio had become so accustomed to her presence that they often forgot she was once a human trainer with dreams and ambitions of her own. They had become her entire world, and she had become a silent spectator to theirs.

It wasn't much of a life, but at least it was a life at all.

Chapter Text

"Squrit, (You're not serious,)" Squirtle said, his eyes wide with incredulity. "Squirt? (You actually want to catch a human?)"

Murkrow, the ambitious avian with a plan larger than his usual midnight snack, nodded his sleek black head with the confidence of a Pokémon Master. His beady eyes gleamed with the light of a thousand feverish thoughts, each more ludicrous than the last. But to him, they were all perfectly logical steps to achieving his dream. Unfortunately, what tended to be considered 'logical' to Pokemon was usually seen as 'insane' by regular humans.

"Why not?" he shot back in the regular human language, a smug grin spreading across his beak. "They're obviously the top of the food chain. They've got all those fancy gadgets and clothes. If I can get one to do my bidding, I'll be unstoppable!"

The other Pokémon in the clearing exchanged hidden glances, trying to gauge if Murkrow was serious or just playing another one of his bizarre jokes. They'd known him for years, and his schemes had always been a mix of genius and absurdity.

"Squirt... Squirt, (But Murkrow, humans... When they catch Pokemon, they don't make them pets,)" Squirtle said tentatively. "Squirt... Squirt? (They're more like... partners, I guess?)"

Murkrow rolled his eyes. "Partners, schmartners. I've seen enough of those trainer-Pokémon duos to know the score. The Pokémon do all the heavy lifting, and the humans get all the glory. No, I want one that's all mine. One I can mold into the ultimate tool for glory!"

This time, none of the Pokémon bothered to hide it as they looked at each other, unsure if they should laugh or be concerned. Pikachu, who had been quietly munching on some berries, content simply to listen, suddenly spoke up. "Pika Pi? (But how are you gonna do that?)" she squeaked, curiosity piquing through her usual indifference.

Murkrow spread his wings, puffing out his chest. "Simple. I've studied them for months. Their tactics, their weaknesses. They're not as clever as they think they are." He paused dramatically, his sharp gaze sweeping over the group. "The key is to find one that's young and naïve, one that isn't too stubborn..." With a smirk, he added, "And I know just the human!"

Dawn, the human girl he had in mind, was the epitome of excitable and eager. She was a bit of a ditz, but that was just what Murkrow was looking for. He'd observed her from the shadows of the forest, her clumsy attempts at catching Pokémon with a throw that often sent the Pokéball in the opposite direction of her target. She was ripe for the picking.

It was later that very sunny afternoon of the conversation that Murkrow put his plan into action. He waited until he saw Dawn, her blue hair stuffed up inside of her white beanie, stumbling after a wild Bidoof with her Pokédex in hand. The perfect moment. He swooped down to a nearby branch, perfectly in view of the girl.

"Hey there, hon!" he called out in the human language he'd put so much effort into learning, using a tone that was half taunt, half challenge.

Dawn looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of a talking Murkrow. "You can talk?!" she exclaimed, dropping her Pokéball in surprise. The Bidoof, of course, took the opportunity to run away.

"Sure can, sweet cheeks! And I can do a whole lot more than that," Murkrow replied with a smugness that would make a Gym Leader blush. He flapped his wings, landing gracefully on the ground in front of her. "You're just the human I've been looking for, pretty girl."

Dawn's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice filled with a child-like wonder that was music to Murkrow's ears.

"You see," he began, his voice as smooth as the feathers on his body, "I've got a proposition for you. You've got this whole 'Pokémon trainer' gig going on, right, sweetie?" He gestured towards her Pokédex with a wing. "Well, I've been watching, and I've gotta say, you're..." He had to be very careful with how he phrased this, otherwise he could potentially drive her away. "You're... Not great."

Dawn's cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of pink, and she clutched her Pokédex to her chest. "H-hey! That's mean!" She protested, though there wasn't much bite behind her words.

Murkrow chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and condescension. "Now, now, don't get your feathers ruffled, sugar. I'm just keeping it real."

Dawn's pout grew more pronounced, but she remained frozen in place, curiosity keeping her rooted to the spot. "What's your deal, bird brain?" she retorted, her voice quivering slightly.

Murkrow's grin grew wider. "I'll cut to the chase, darling. Toss me a Pokeball, and you'll find out exactly what I've got in mind."

Dawn titled her head slightly, obviously skeptical... But curiosity eventually won out as she reached into her pocket, pulled out one of those red and white spheres, and tossed it to him without much thought.

Using his wings like hands, Murkrow caught the Pokéball with surprising deftness, his eyes gleaming with victory. "Ah, the sweet taste of success," he murmured to himself, his voice a little too smug for comfort. "Now, let's see if you're the right fit for me, shall we?"

With a grunt of effort, he threw the ball at her. It was a good throw, straight and true, hitting her square in the chest- And the moment it collided with her, there was a flash of light and a pop, the ball opened and a stream of red energy engulfed her.

Dawn's eyes went wide with shock, her hands shooting up to her face. "What the-!" she squealed, before she was abruptly yanked into the ball. The light dimmed and she was gone, leaving only the ball bouncing once on the grass before it came to a stop.

Murkrow couldn't believe it. He'd actually done it. He walked over and picked up the Pokéball, feeling a strange thrill. It was warm in his grasp, and it vibrated slightly, as if alive.

"...Finally. Finally!" Murkrow cheered, his squawk echoing through the forest as he clutched the Pokéball tightly in his wings. The plan had worked like a charm. He'd seen humans use these contraptions a hundred times, but to actually pull it off himself? Unbelievable!

He took a moment to appreciate the weight of the ball, the power it contained. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he called out, "Human, I choose you!" The ball burst open, and out popped...

Well, Dawn didn't exactly pop. More like she flopped out, landing on her butt with a thump. Her eyes were as wide as Pikachu's when he saw a good piece of fruit. "What the...?" she started, but Murkrow was already swooping up to perch on her shoulder.

"Surprise!" he cawed with glee. "You're mine now, sweetie!" He couldn't believe his luck. This was going to be the best thing since breadcrums!

Dawn blinked a few times, looking utterly dumbfounded as she took in the previous events of the last few seconds. "What's going on? Did I just... Did you just catch me?!" Her voice squeaked with disbelief, and she stared at Murkrow as if he'd just pulled a Buneary out of his feathery hat.

Murkrow couldn't contain his pride as he bobbed his head. "You bet your sweet human lack of tail I did! Welcome to the world of being a Pokémon, darling!" He gave her cheek a nudge with his wing, his beak curving into a grin.

Dawn's eyes narrowed as she scrambled to her feet, her hand shooting up to rub her forehead. "Get off me, you creepy bird!" she yelled, trying to swipe him off her shoulder. But Murkrow was nimble, and he simply fluttered back a few inches, out of reach.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he chuckled, moving to fly directly in front of her face. "Not so fast, Missy. First, you're going to let me stay on your shoulder." He pointed his beak at the empty space next to her head, his feathers ruffling with excitement.

The urge came suddenly. The moment Murkrow finished saying his command, Dawn's hand froze mid-swipe. She stared at him with a mix of anger and confusion, her arm hovering awkwardly. It was as if her body had decided to ignore her brain's order to swat the pesky bird away.

Murkrow chuckled, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he landed on her shoulder. "You see, my dear, it's all about the bond. The Pokémon inside the ball, they follow the voice of the one who threw it." He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "And guess who that is now?"

Dawn's eyes widened as the reality of the situation dawned on her. "Wait, what? No way, that's... that's not right!" But even as she protested, she could feel the compulsion to do as he said, as if her body had been hijacked by an unseen force.

Murkrow's chuckles grew louder, his grin spreading ear to ear—or beak to beak, in his case. "Oh, it's more than right, darling," he crooned. "It's the way of the world. Now, don't be shy. Let's get going."

Dawn's face was a picture of disbelief and annoyance. She didn't understand how this was happening, but she felt the strange pull to obey. Her body seemed to move on its own accord, and she found herself walking down the path, Murkrow riding shotgun on her shoulder. She tried to fight it, to tell him where to stick his "bond," but she couldn't even get the words out.

Murkrow, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He'd always been the odd one out, the Pokémon who didn't quite fit in. But now, with a human puppet at his beck and call, he was going to show everyone what a real trainer looked like...

"Guess who's back, everybody!?"

Murkrow strutted into the clearing where Squirtle, Pikachu, and a few other Pokémon lounged about, his new human acquisition in tow. Dawn followed behind, her eyes still wide with shock and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The Pokémon looked up, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and amusement.

"...Squirt? (...Murkrow, what in the name of Arceus is going on here?)" Squirtle sputtered, his eyes darting between the trainer and his new... trainee?

(Meanwhile, Dawn's eyes widened as she realized that she just understood the Squirtle's speech- but nobody cared, so it went unnoticed.)

"Now, Squirtle, don't get your shell in a twist," he said with a chuckle, strutting over to the group with a spring in his step. "This is my new servant! Isn't she just the cutest?" He gestured to the girl, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else but here.

Dawn's face was a mask of humiliation as she was paraded in front of the Pokémon she'd spent weeks trying to befriend. She couldn't believe she was now under the control of a creature she'd been trying to catch herself. Her legs moved almost of their own accord as Murkrow led her into the middle of the clearing.

"Now, darling, tell the nice Pokémon your name," Murkrow said, his voice a blend of smugness and amusement.

Dawn felt her cheeks burn as she opened her mouth, the words seemingly pulled from her by an invisible string. "Dawn," she murmured, her voice sounding strange in her own ears.

The Pokémon looked at each other in bewilderment, their tails swishing and their ears perking up. Pikachu's cheeks sparked with electricity, her eyes flicking between Murkrow and the girl. "Pika...? Pika pi!? (You actually...? You actually did it!?)" she squeaked, obviously questioning the bird's sanity.

"Yep, that's right," Murkrow said, puffing out his chest. "Meet Dawn, the human I caught to be our new... well, human." He grinned, enjoying the way the word 'human' rolled off his tongue. "Isn't she a delight?"

The Pokémon stared at Dawn, who squirmed under their gazes. She felt like a rare Pokémon on display at the Pokémon Contest, except she wasn't getting any applause or treats.

There were five Pokemon currently watching as Murkrow showed Dawn off. There was a male Squirtle, who seemed pretty calm, overall; A female Pikachu, heart-shaped tail in great contrast to her uninterested expression; A Leafeon who was extremely focused on trying to break a stick in half; A Gothita, who was looking up at Dawn with figuratively starry eyes; and a Sneasel, who had a terrifyingly sadistic expression on her face.

"So, what do you think, team?" Murkrow said, with a grin that was somehow too wide for his beak.

The Pokémon stared at Dawn, who stared back at them with a look that was a mix of 'please save me' and 'how do I get myself out of this mess'. Gothita looked at her with a mix of wonder and admiration, while Leafeon was too busy playing with his stick to really care. Sneasel, on the other hand, had a glint in his eye that made Dawn's skin crawl.

Murkrow strutted around his 'team', his head held high. "As you can see," he announced, gesturing to Dawn with a flap of his wing, "I've managed to acquire the perfect tool for our journey to the top! With her by our side, we'll be unstoppable!"

Squirtle, the calm and collected one of the bunch, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Murkrow's bravado. "Squirt, squirtle, squirt? (You expect this human to... to just go along with this?)" he asked, trying to get his head around the situation.

Murkrow just smirked. "Don't you worry your little blue head, Squirtle. I've got it all under control. She'll do what she's told, won't you, love?" He gave Dawn's cheek a nudge, and she nodded, though it was clear her mind was racing.

"Sel... Sneas? (Oh... Anything?)" Sneasler asked, his voice filled with a dark curiosity. He hadn't moved from his spot, his toothy smile growing wider as he observed the human girl's discomfort.

Murkrow nodded, his eyes glinting with excitement. "That's right, Sneasel. She's going to be the best little servant we could ever ask for." He leaned in closer to whisper, his beak brushing against Dawn's ear, "And who knows, maybe she'll be a little more than that, hmm?"

The Pokémon couldn't help but exchange glances, a mix of confusion and horror. Gothita's eyes grew wide with curiosity, and she tilted her head, a question bubbling in her thoughts. "Goth, gothita? (What do we do with her?)" she asked, her tiny hand gesturing towards Dawn.

Murkrow's grin grew wider. "She," he said, gesturing at Dawn once more, "is going to be our ticket to fame and glory!"

Dawn felt a weird mix of emotions, from the embarrassment of being talked about like some kind of prize to the strange thrill of being part of an actual Pokémon team. She'd always dreamed of this, but not quite like this. She opened her mouth to protest again, but nothing came out. It was like Murkrow had her on a leash, and she couldn't do anything but follow his lead.

Pikachu finally broke the silence, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Pika, pi? (What's your deal, human?)" she squeaked, tilting her head to the side. Her tail twitched with a spark of electricity, and she took a few steps closer to the newest member of their... team?

Dawn blinked in surprise as she  felt a twinge of annoyance at being talked about like she was a new toy, but she also felt a weird sense of relief that Pikachu had at least acknowledged her existence. "My deal?" she replied, trying to keep the resentment out of her voice. "I don't know what's going on here, but apparently, I've been caught by Murkrow and now I'm his... his... whatever."

Pikachu nodded, as though than answer made perfect sense, before she cocked her head to the side to look at Murkrow, her ears perking up slightly. "Pika, pi? (So, what, do we, like, share her?)" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.

Murkrow chuckled, the sound low and a bit wicked. "No sharing, Pikachu. She's all mine," he said as he placed his wing behind Dawn's neck- An obvious warning. "But you can all benefit from having her around. She can fetch food, carry our stuff, and- this is the best part- look cute!"

Squirtle, ever the pragmatic one, broke the tension with a straightforward question. "Squirtle? Squirt. (How exactly do you plan to use her for 'fame and glory'? You know humans aren't exactly known for their fighting prowess.)"

Murkrow chuckled, his feathers ruffling with amusement. "Ah, Squirtle, you're thinking too small. She's not going to be fighting. She's going to be our... let's call her our 'Fake Trainer'. We'll have her wander around the region with all of us, posing as our Trainer- Not that I intend to let her order any of us around, of course," he quickly added, "she's just going to be the 'face' of the team. The one that humans will look at and think, 'ah, she got us here!' When really, all she did was stand there and look pretty."

The other Pokémon exchanged glances, some looking intrigued while others were still confused. Gothita, however, was nodding along, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Goth, gothita! (So, she's like our little mascot!)" she exclaimed, her curiosity piqued.

Murkrow nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! A mascot, a decoy, a... a human shield!" he added with a cackle, which only made Dawn's discomfort grow. "We'll have her strut around in a cute little outfit, and while everyone's distracted by her, we'll be the ones doing all the heavy lifting!"

The Pokémon looked at each other, murmuring and chattering in their own languages, trying to process this bizarre turn of events. Their discussion was going too fast to understand, even for the strange translation ability she'd gained after Murkrow had caught her. But the gist of it was clear: they were talking about her. What else would they be talking about?

After a moment that felt like an eternity, they all turned back to Murkrow, who was watching them with a hawk-like gaze. "Well?" he prompted, his beak curving upwards in anticipation. "Are we all agreed?"

The Pokémon looked at each other, still not quite sure what to make of the situation. But in the end, the lure of adventure and the promise of not being the ones doing the fetching won out. Squirtle shrugged his tiny shoulders. "Squirt... Squirt. (I guess it's worth a shot... It could be fun, after all.)", he said, his voice trailing off with a shrug.

Pikachu nodded thoughtfully, her curiosity now piqued. "Pika, pika- pi... (Hmm, if she's gonna be our new pet, then we should get her a new outfit- The one she has isn't all that interesting...)" she considered.

Gothita's eyes sparkled as she heard the idea, and she clapped her hands together. "Goth, gothita! (Oh yes, we could totally make her look adorable! We could tie bows in her hair or dress her up in cute dresses!)"

Dawn felt a bit queasy at the thought of being dressed up like a doll by these Pokémon, but she couldn't exactly say no. Not when Murkrow's wing was pressing down on the back of her neck, a not-so-subtle reminder of who was in charge here, and especially not with the Pokeball's power keeping her completely obedient to him.

Sneasel's gaze grew more intense, his eyes gleaming with a twisted excitement. "Sneasel... sneas, (We could have so much fun with this... human toy,)" he murmured, his voice excited yet low and menacing.

"Then it's decided!" Murkrow declared, his feathers fluffing with excitement. "We're going to show the whole region what a real team looks like!"

The Pokemon cheered, or at least, as much as a bunch of critters could cheer. Gothita clapped her tiny hands, Pikachu smirked, and even Sneasel's tail swished in excitement. The choice was made- A journey it was!

Leafeon looked up from his stick, finally tuning in. "Leaf? Leaf? (What's going on? Did I miss something?)"

Dawn stumbled along the path, the weight of her overstuffed backpack- which was filled to the brim with everything the six Pokemon had wanted to bring with them- heavy on her shoulders. 'It was the least she could do, Murkrow had assured her, as she 'wasn't contributing anything else to the team.' She shot the bird a glare, but his only response was a smug squawk. He was enjoying this way too much.

The group of Pokémon followed her, chattering away in their unique languages. Occasionally, she'd catch snippets of their conversation, but mostly it was just a cacophony of sounds that made her head spin. It was weird, she had to admit, being able to understand them. It was like someone had flipped a switch in her brain, and suddenly she knew what Pikachu meant when she said 'Pika'.

They'd been walking for what felt like hours, and she was about ready to collapse when Murkrow squawked in her ear. "Hey, look alive, sweet cheeks. We've got company." She looked up to see a figure approaching in the distance, and her heart sank. Another trainer. Great.

The trainer was a young boy, younger even than her, with messy brown hair under a hat and a determined look on his face. He had a Rattata on his shoulder, which she recognized as a fire type. The boy spotted them and his eyes lit up. "Hey there! You guys look like you're on an adventure!" he called out, his voice full of enthusiasm.

Dawn felt a pang of jealousy. Here she was, lugging around a bunch of Pokémon who saw her as their personal assistant, while this kid was out here, living the dream she'd had since she was little. She managed a weak smile and waved back. "Yeah, we're just... traveling," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

The trainer grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "That's awesome! My name's Joey. What's y- Wait, hey, hey!" He cut himself off, clearly losing his own train of thought. "You're a Trainer too, right? That means we gotta battle now! It's like, the rule of the road!" His Rattata squeaked in agreement, its thin tail waving back and forth like a little flag of challenge.

Dawn gulped, her heart racing. Battle? As if being a puppet wasn't enough, now she had to pretend to be a competent Pokémon Trainer? But before she could protest, Murkrow whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, darling, I've got this. Just act natural," he said, self-assured.

"Sure," she murmured, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "I'm Dawn, and these are my Pokémon." She gestured awkwardly to the group. "Um... I guess... Uh..."

Murkrow quickly gave her his first command. "Send out Sneasel- He knows 'Counter,' which is a Fighting-Type move."

"Y-yeah. Sneasel, you're up!" Dawn pretended to command, though all of the Pokemon in 'her' party knew where the command really came from.

Sneasel smirked, his sharp eyes gleaming with anticipation. He'd been looking forward to this moment since the second Murkrow had caught her. He enjoyed the power dynamics here, the way he could manipulate this human to do his bidding. He strutted out confidently, his tail-feathers swishing from side to side as he faced the Rattata.

"Let's do this, Sneasel!" Dawn called out, her voice shaking just a bit. She had no idea how to actually win a battle, but she hoped it was enough to make it happen. She watched as Sneasel leaned back, taking a lazy stretch casually. The trainer took the bait, shouting "Rattata, Tackle!" with a fierce look in his eyes.

The Rattata rushed forward, his tiny body a blur as he threw himself at Sneasel. The Rattata made contact, and Sneasel let out a grunt of surprise as he was pushed back a step. But it was clear he'd seen it coming. As soon as the Rattata had made its move, Murkrow had whispered another command into Dawn's ear, and she'd called out, "Counter, Sneasel!"

The Sneasel's eyes narrowed, and with a swift, almost graceful, move, he swiped at the Rattata with his claws. The move hit true, and the Rattata was sent flying backwards, landing with a thump. The boy, Joey, looked shocked as his Rattata laid there, fainted- defeated in a single attack.

"Wh- Rattata!?" He cried, eyes wide. "But... You were supposed to be in the top percentage of Rattata!"

Murkrow chuckled to himself, enjoying the boy's shock. "Looks like his precious little rat got outsmarted by a 'bird brain,'" he whispered in Dawn's ear, frustratingly proud of his own joke.

Dawn forced a smile, trying to keep her cool in front of Joey. "I-it's okay," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "It was just a friendly battle."

Joey nodded, looking down at his defeated Rattata with a frown. "I guess so," he mumbled before pulling out his Pokédex and scanning the fainted Rattata. He took a deep breath and returned his Pokémon to its ball before digging into his pocket. He pulled out a few PokéDollars and handed them over to Dawn. "Here, you earned it," he said, trying to hide his disappointment.

Dawn took the money, feeling a bit guilty. "Thanks," she murmured, slipping the bills into her pocket. She didn't know how to explain that she hadn't actually done anything to win that battle. But before she could say anything more, Murkrow whispered in her ear.

"Remember, darling, it's all part of the act," he said, his beak so close to her cheek it tickled as Joey fast-walked away, giving a cheerful wave- clearly, he hadn't been affected too badly by his loss. "Now, let's get going. We've got more battles to win, and more humans to fool. Oh, and be a dear and give that cash to Squirtle," he added, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. "He's the best at counting, and we're going to need all the funds we can get our... various appendages on on if we're going to be the best."

Dawn couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd just been forced to battle another trainer's Pokémon, and now she was being told to hand over the prize money to a Pokémon. But she did as she was told, her cheeks flaming as she handed pulled the Pokedollars out of her pocket and turned towards Squirtle.

"Squirt, (Wait,)" Squirtle asked, some surprise in his voice as he took the money, "Squirtle? Squi... Squirtle! (Murkrow, you want me to keep this? Oh, wow, well, uh... Squirtle's got you, buddy!)" He took the Pokedollars with a happy hum, his tiny arms shaking a bit with excitement. He had always been good with numbers, and now he had actual money to count. It was like a dream come true for the little blue turtle. Squirtle stowed the cash in his shell, his eyes glinting with excitement at the prospect of counting and storing their newfound wealth.

Dawn watched as Squirtle tucked the money away, feeling more like a puppet than ever before. But she couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement at his childlike glee. At least someone was happy with this arrangement. "Alright, let's keep moving," Murkrow said, patting the top of her head as he uttered his next command...

The door to the hotel room clicked shut behind them, and Dawn let out a sigh of relief as she dropped her backpack on the floor. "Finally," she murmured, rubbing her sore shoulders.

Murkrow hopped off her shoulder and landed gracefully on the bed, flapping his wings to straighten his feathers. "Yes, well done, my dear," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've performed your duties admirably today."

The other Pokémon looked around the room with wide eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Gothita ran over to the TV, her curiosity piqued by the glowing box. Sneasel sauntered over to the minibar, eyeing the snacks with greed. Pikachu's tail began to spark with excitement as she spotted the plush chair by the window, perfect for lounging. Leafeon padded over to the bed and plopped down with a contented sigh. "Leaf... Leaf, (Ah... Perfection,)" he murmured, already half-asleep.

Murkrow strutted across the bed towards the side table, his eyes on the remote control sitting atop it. "Make yourself comfortable, my dear," he said, flapping his wings at Dawn. "But remember, you're here to serve. Get us all something to eat, won't you?"

Dawn bit back a retort, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to be anyone's servant, but she was trapped in this bizarre situation, unable to do anything but what Murkrow told her to. She marched over to the minibar, her eyes scanning the overpriced snacks. "What do you all want?" she asked, her voice flat.

Gothita looked up from where she was poking at the TV with a finger. "Goth... Gothita? (Can I have some of those... those little triangle... things?)" she asked, pointing at a bag of chips.

Dawn nodded and tossed them over, trying to keep the irritation from her face. "Here, don't go nuts," she said, hoping the snack would keep Gothita occupied for a bit. She turned to the others, who were all eyeing her expectantly. "And what about you guys?"

Pikachu leaped into the plush chair and kicked her feet up. "Pika pi, pika. (I'm totally fine, I just need to suck some electricity from that socket over there.)"

Murkrow's beak twitched in amusement. "Oh, darling, you're just too much," he said before turning to Sneasel, who had already helped himself to the minibar. "Sneasel, what's your poison?"

The sneaky Pokémon's eyes lit up at the question. He scanned the offerings, his gaze lingering on the most ludicrously priced chocolates. "Sneas, (Those look absolutely divine,)" he purred, pointing at the gold-foil wrapped sweets.

"Those are a hundred PokéDollars each!" Dawn exclaimed, horrified at his audacity. "We can't just-"

But Murkrow put a wing over his beak, the non-verbal command causing Dawn to instantly shut her mouth. "Oh, come now, Dawn. Live a little. We're going to be the greatest Pokémon team this world has ever seen. A little splurging never hurt anybody."

Squirtle looked up from counting the coins he'd been given, his expression serious. "Squirtle... squirt. (If we keep buying chocolates at those prices, we're going to be broke before we even hit the next town,)" he said, his tiny voice filled with a surprising amount of wisdom.

Murkrow rolled his eyes. "You and your practicality," he groused. "Fine, but if you're going to be our treasurer, you're going to have to find ways to make sure we're rolling in cash, too."

Dawn's cheeks burned with humiliation as she turned back to the minibar. She grabbed a couple of small snacks that weren't too expensive, hoping they'd be enough to satisfy the Pokémon. She tossed a bag of peanuts to Murkrow and handed Sneasel a cheaper chocolate bar. "Here," she said, trying not to sound too defeated. "This will have to do for now."

Murkrow took the peanuts with a sniff, but Sneasel's eyes lit up with greed as he caught the chocolate in mid-air. He tore into the wrapper, his teeth sinking into the sweet treat with a crunch that made Dawn's own mouth water. She hadn't had anything to eat since that morning, but she wasn't about to admit it. Instead, she flopped down on the bed beside Leafeon, who was already snoring lightly.

Gothita had managed to turn on the TV with a few button smashes and was now engrossed in a show about a detective Pikachu, which Pikachu herself found utterly uninteresting and, according to something she muttered, 'terribly inaccurate.' Dawn watched for a moment before sighing and turning to Murkrow, who was preening his feathers with his beak. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.

Murkrow looked at her, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Plan? Oh, you mean for our glorious rise to the top of the Trainer's League!" He paused dramatically, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice. "We're going to win every battle we come across, of course! We're going to be unstoppable!"

Dawn couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Sure, they'd won that one battle against Joey's Rattata, but that didn't mean they could beat everyone. Plus, the idea of being a 'Fake Trainer' didn't exactly sit well with her. But she didn't have much of a choice, did she? "Okay, so how do we do that?" she asked, trying to sound more enthusiastic than she felt.

Murkrow looked at her, his eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and cunning. "First things first, we need to train. We can't just waltz into the league without putting in some serious work." He paused, considering his words.

"But tomorrow, we're going to the local battle circuit," he continued, his voice growing more animated. "We'll start with the amateur league, build up your reputation. And with each victory, we'll climb higher, until we're the ones everyone's talking about."

Dawn nodded, trying to ignore the way her stomach churned at the thought of being in the spotlight. "What about me?" she asked. "I mean, I'm not exactly a battle strategist or anything."

Murkrow waved a wing dismissively. "You don't need to be. You just have to look the part and do as I say," he said, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "You'll be the face of our operation. Think of yourself as the team's poster girl."

Dawn couldn't help but feel a bit insulted at that. Poster girl? That's all she was to them? A pretty face to distract while the Pokémon did all the real work? But she didn't argue. What was the point? Instead, she leaned back against the wall, watching the TV with a sigh. The detective Pikachu on the screen was giving a dramatic speech about justice and friendship. How ironic.

One by one, the Pokémon began to gather on the bed, their tiny forms piling up like a collection of plush toys. Gothita was the first to settle in, snuggling up against Leafeon's fluffy tail. Sneasel followed, his sharp eyes never leaving the minibar as he laid his head on a pillow. Pikachu joined them, her cheeks still pulsing with occasional sparks as she watched the show with a critical eye.

Murkrow, feeling quite satisfied with the day's events, fluttered down to the bedside. He took a moment to admire his 'human pet' before giving her a final command for the night. "Alright, darling, it's time for bed. But remember, no stepping out of line." He nodded towards the floor.

Dawn's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had hoped to at least get a cot or something, but apparently, the 'Fake Trainer' didn't rate that high. With a sigh, she grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from the bed, laying them out on the cold, hard floor. The Pokémon watched her with varying degrees of interest, but she did her best to ignore their gazes. "Goodnight, guys," she said, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.

They all murmured their goodnights, except for Leafeon, who had been asleep for hours already.

Dawn lay on the floor, the plushness of the rug doing little to cushion her weary body. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the snores of the Pokémon piled on the bed above her. The TV had been turned off, blanketing the room in darkness except for the occasional moonbeam that slipped through the curtains.

Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to break Murkrow's control. But how? Every time she tried to think of a plan, a loophole, anything, her own mind immediately shut it down, her thoughts as trapped as she was. It was maddening. She felt like a marionette, her strings being pulled by a smug, bird-brained puppet master.

Dawn closed her eyes, trying to ignore the snores and rustling above her. She focused on her breathing, willing herself to relax. Maybe if she could get some rest, she'd think more clearly in the morning. But sleep was elusive, taunting her from the edge of consciousness.

Eventually, she gave in to the quiet rhythms of the night. Her thoughts grew fuzzy, and her body grew heavy. The last thing she heard before drifting off was the faint sound of Murkrow's feathers shuffling against the bedspread. And with that, she was out.

Dawn shuffled in her seat as she surveyed the other Trainers in the Locker Room. They were all chattering away, their Pokémon eager for the battles ahead. She felt so out of place, especially with Murkrow perched on her shoulder, whispering instructions and reminders about her 'role'. She couldn't help but feel a knot in her stomach tighten as she saw the confident smirks on some of the other Trainers' faces.

The Battle Circuit was a bustling hub of activity, with screens displaying the matchups and a constant murmur of anticipation filling the air. The lights were bright, the music upbeat, and the smell of popcorn from the concession stand was tantalizing. But all she could focus on was the weight of Murkrow on her shoulder, and the sound of the other Pokemon's chattering behind her.

"Alright, darling," he whispered, his beak brushing her ear. "Remember, act like you know what you're doing."

Dawn nodded, trying to keep her cool. The floor was smooth and cool under her feet, and the walls were plastered with posters of famous Trainers and their Pokémon. The locker room smelled faintly of sweat and antiseptic cleaner, with a hint of something faintly metallic in the air.

The locker room was filled with the sounds of Trainers discussing strategies (and trash-talking. A lot of trash-talking.) The air was thick with tension and excitement as everyone prepared for the battles ahead. Dawn tried to tune out the whispers and stares as she laced up her sneakers. The other Trainers had their Pokémon safely stored in their balls, but here she was, with six of them just hanging around like they were old pets. It was definitely raising a few eyebrows. It wasn't every day you saw a human surrounded by Pokémon who were so obviously not in their Pokéballs. Dawn felt their stares like a weight, but she held her head high, not wanting to give away their secret.

"Remember, if anyone asks, you just say they're out of their balls for 'bonding' purposes," Murkrow had whispered to her earlier, a smug grin on his face.

"Bonding, right," she murmured under her breath, trying not to roll her eyes. She knew that was just his way of spinning the truth to make her look like a caring, devoted Trainer. But it was better than admitting she was basically their servant.

The door to the locker room swung open, and the chatter went silent as one of the many 'security guards-' who were functionally just fancy-looking guides- stepped inside. "Dawn!" they called out, their voice echoing off the walls. "You're up!"

Dawn's heart skipped a beat, and she shot to her feet, her nerves a tangled mess. She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face, turning to her 'team' of Pokémon. "Alright, let's do this," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

The group of Pokémon looked at her, their expressions a mix of excitement and skepticism. Gothita bobbed her head eagerly, while Leafeon stretched out his legs with a yawn. Squirtle gave her a thumbs up from where he sat, his tiny body bobbing up and down. Sneasel just smirked, looking as if he was already thinking of ways to make this battle interesting for himself. Pikachu looked as disinterested as ever.

With a deep breath, Dawn stepped out of the locker room, her heart racing. The corridor leading to the battlefield was lined with posters of past champions and their Pokémon, their fierce gazes following her as she walked. The floor was sticky from spilled drinks and trodden gum, a stark contrast to the gleaming arena that lay ahead.

The Battle Circuit itself was a small, makeshift setup in the middle of the town's fairground. The stands were filled with townsfolk, their eyes glued to the battlefield, munching on popcorn and sipping sodas. The stage was a simple circle of well-trimmed grass surrounded by a waist-high barrier, with a few flashy lights and a Jumbotron overhead playing the theme song of the Pokemon League. The atmosphere was charged with energy, the kind that only a bunch of overenthusiastic small-town fans could generate.

Dawn stepped out into the light, her heart hammering in her chest. She felt like a fraud, a kid pretending to be a master chef in a Michelin-star kitchen. The crowd cheered her name, and she waved awkwardly, hoping nobody could see her sweating. The Pokémon followed her, their steps light and graceful compared to her clumsy gait.

The announcer, a loud, boisterous man with a handlebar mustache, boomed into the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome our next contender, Dawn, with her unique team of Pokemon! It's not often we see a Trainer willing to deal with so many different Types like this simultaneously, and- Whether she wins or loses- I'm sure she'll put on quite the show!" The crowd's murmurs grew louder as they craned their necks to get a better look at the unusual lineup.

Murkrow took his position on her shoulder, whispering his plan. "Introduce each of them, darling. Make sure to play up your 'bond' with them. It'll win over the audience, and that's half the battle right there."

Dawn took a deep breath and waved to her first Pokémon, Gothita. The crowd oohed and aahed at the adorable psychic type, her eyes wide and curious as she walked onto the field. "This little cutie here is Gothita," Dawn announced with a forced smile, feeling Murkrow's grip tighten slightly on her shoulder. "We've been working on her psychic powers, and she's just dying to show everyone what she can do!"

Next was Squirtle, who marched out with surprising confidence, his little arms swinging at his sides. "And this is Squirtle," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "He's our water-type powerhouse, ready to drench the competition!" The crowd clapped once more, some of the kids squealing in delight at the sight of the cute turtle Pokémon.

Then came Leafeon, who sauntered out with a yawn, looking like he'd rather be taking a nap than fighting. "Leafeon is our grass-type, with moves so fast you'll think he's dancing in the breeze," Murkrow whispered, and Dawn repeated it, trying not to laugh. She was also barely able to add before Murkrow could cut her off, "Just don't bother trying to keep him awake for more than an hour at a time, haha."

The crowd chuckled, and she felt a bit of the tension ease. Pikachu was next, and she gave a little twirl, her electric cheeks pulsing with excitement. "Pikachu here is our electric-type," Dawn said, playing along. "And she's... Well, she's Pikachu, isn't she?" She shrugged. "I mean, everyone knows Pikachu- I doubt she needs any introduction."

The audience roared with laughter, and even Murkrow had to chuckle. "Good one," he whispered, his feathers fluttering with approval.

As the last of the laughter died down, Dawn felt a sudden gust of wind and a sharp poke in the back of her head. She spun around to see Sneasel, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sneas! (You forgot me!)" He sneered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Right! This is Sneasel. He scares me." Murkrow's response to that was a harsh whisper, but the crowd took it as an endearing quirk. The sneaky Pokémon grinned, showing off his sharp teeth. "And last but certainly not least, is the guy you've probably noticed has been sitting on my shoulder the whole time: Murkrow, our mastermind." She paused, trying to ignore the way Murkrow preened under the spotlight. "We're here to win, and we're going to do it together," she finished lamely.

The crowd clapped with great excitement, and the opposing Trainer- who, based on their red jersey, was a Fire-type Trainer- took their place opposite Dawn. She felt her heart racing as she tried to remember everything Murkrow had told her. "Just do what I say, and we'll be fine," he murmured in her ear. "You're the face, I'm the brains. Let's not mess this up."

The referee, a stern-looking woman with a sharp palette of blue and white, called for the match to begin. The crowd grew quiet, their anticipation palpable. The Fire-type Trainer sent out a Chimchar, its fiery tail waving proudly. Murkrow whispered, "Start with Squirtle. Use Water Gun."

Dawn nodded and called out, "Squirtle, go!" Squirtle took a deep breath, and a jet of water shot out from his mouth, soaking the Chimchar. The crowd gasped. Murkrow's plan was simple: keep the pressure up by constantly switching who was on the battlefield. It was an untested strategy, but hopefully an effective one.

The Chimchar looked surprised for a moment before its Trainer called out, "Chimchar, use Ember!" Tiny flames shot from the monkey-like Pokémon's hands, but Squirtle casually let the fire wash over him, barely even feeling the effects. The water from the Water Gun had left the grass slippery, and Chimchar's footing was compromised.

Murkrow nodded in approval. "Good. Now, use Tackle," he whispered, and Dawn called the command. Squirtle charged, his little body sliding across the wet grass. The Chimchar's eyes widened, and it stumbled backward, trying to dodge. But Squirtle's tackle hit home, sending the Chimchar flying into its Trainer's arms. The crowd gasped, then erupted into applause.

The Fire-type Trainer's face fell, and he recalled his Pokémon with a sigh. "Alright, let's see what you've got," he called out, reaching for his next Poké Ball. He threw it into the air, and a flaming Cyndaquil appeared, its fiery tail a beacon in the night. Murkrow leaned in. "Have Gothita use Confusion," he instructed.

Dawn nodded, and Squirtle moved back while Gothita simultaneously stepped up, her tiny hands glowing with psychic power. The Cyndaquil's eyes swirled, and it looked momentarily befuddled before it snapped out of it, shaking its head. The crowd murmured, and the Fire-type Trainer smirked. "Cyndaquil, use Flamethrower!" he ordered. Gothita's eyes widened as a stream of fire shot towards her, and she stumbled backward.

"Perfect! Have Gothita use Torment!" Murkrow hissed in her ear, and she relayed the command. Gothita's eyes narrowed, and a wicked smile played across her lips as she sent a psychic wave at Cyndaquil. The fire type flinched, its fiery spirit momentarily dampened.

"Switch to Leafeon, and use Growth!" Murkrow instructed, his voice a mix of urgency and excitement. Dawn nodded, calling out to the bored-looking grass-type. Leafeon's eyes snapped open, and he took a deep breath. His vines grew longer and greener, his whole body looking rejuvenated. The crowd murmured in amazement as the transformation was complete.

The Cyndaquil looked a bit more nervous now, and the Fire-type Trainer's smirk had disappeared. He knew he was in for a challenge. "Cyndaquil, use Flamethrower again!" But as Cyndaquil tried to use the move, it shuddered, the effect of Gothita's Torment preventing it from using the same move twice in a row.

Leafeon took advantage of the opening, charging with a Leaf Blade that sliced through the air. It hit the Cyndaquil, and, despite Grass not being very effective against Fire, the boosted power that Leafeon had gained from Growth combined with a lucky critical hit dealt enough damage to instantly knock the Cyndaquil out. The crowd erupted into a mix of shock and amazement.

Murkrow cackled with glee on Dawn's shoulder, flapping his wings in excitement. "Yes! Yes! That's the spirit!" he squawked. The Fire-type Trainer looked defeated, but he recalled his Pokémon with a nod of respect. "Good match," he mumbled.

Dawn felt a strange mix of pride and embarrassment. They'd won, sure, but it wasn't because of her. It was all Murkrow's doing. She was just a puppet, and everyone here was watching her like she was pulling the strings. She stepped up to the prize podium, accepting the prize money with a forced smile. The crowd was chanting her name, and she felt like a fraud.

"Good job," Murkrow whispered in her ear, his beak poking her cheek. "Now, let's get out of here before anyone starts asking questions."

Dawn nodded, still feeling a bit dizzy from the battle, and the Pokémon followed her off the field. They were met with a barrage of questions from eager audience members and other Trainers, all eager to get a closer look at her unusual entourage. She plastered on a smile, trying to keep the conversation light and avoid any probing about her relationship with her Pokémon. Gothita, ever the social butterfly, flitted around, charming everyone with her wide eyes and fluffy petticoat-thing, while Sneasel smirked at the attention, obviously enjoying the chaos he could sense beneath the surface.

They managed to slip away into a quieter corridor, and Dawn leaned against the cool wall, breathing heavily. "You did good," Murkrow said, his voice softer than usual. She looked up at him, surprised by the almost-compliment. "But don't get too full of yourself," he added, his beak twitching with amusement. "We've got more battles to win."

The next few days passed in a blur of battles and training sessions. Each victory brought them closer to Murkrow's grand plan, and with each step, the pressure on Dawn grew. She was the face of their operation, the one who took the bows and answered the questions, all while Murkrow whispered commands into her ear.

One evening, after a particularly grueling battle, Dawn slumped onto the bed in their shared hotel room. Her 'team' was scattered around, enjoying their post-battle rewards. Gothita was playing with a plush of her evolution she'd picked out from the gift shop, Squirtle was splashing in the bathroom sink, and Sneasel was helping himself to another chocolate from the minibar. Murkrow preened his feathers, his beady eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she finally asked, the words slipping out like a tired sigh. She'd been holding them in since the day she'd been caught, afraid of the answer she might receive. "I don't get it. What's the point of all this? Did I do something to you? Are you mad at me?"

Murkrow looked up from his grooming, his feathers ruffling slightly. "Mad at you? No, not at all. This is about greatness, darling," he said, his tone casual yet earnest. "I want to be the best, and to be the best, I need the best tools at my disposal. And, let's face it, you're pretty handy to have around."

Dawn couldn't argue with that. With each victory, she had to admit that their strategy was working. The crowd loved her, and she had become a sort of local celebrity. Trainers whispered about her 'unique bond' with her Pokémon, and some even approached her for autographs. It was strange, being treated like she was something special when she felt like nothing more than Murkrow's mouthpiece.

But she couldn't deny the thrill of the battles. As much as she hated being controlled, there was something exhilarating about watching her team work together so flawlessly. It was like watching a dance she didn't know she'd choreographed, each Pokémon moving in sync with her (well, Murkrow's) commands. And she had to admit, it was pretty cool to have a bunch of Pokémon that listened to her- even if it was only because Murkrow was making them.

And that was just the thing, wasn't it? Murkrow. The driving force behind her new 'career'. As she watched the Pokémon revel in their success, she couldn't help but wonder what he really thought of her. Was she just a means to an end? A tool in his quest for greatness? Or was there something more? She took a deep breath and turned her head to look at him. "Murkrow," she began, "What am I to you?"

Murkrow stopped his grooming and looked at her with a tilted head. "What do you mean, darling?" he asked, his eyes sharp despite the casual tone.

"Well," Dawn began, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. "Am I just... a tool for you to win battles?" It was a question she'd been holding onto for a while now, one that had been eating away at her during the quiet moments between battles and interviews.

Murkrow looked at her for a moment, his dark eyes gleaming. "A tool, yes, but not just any tool," he said, his tone light, almost teasing. "More like... a servant, or a pet, really. But a cute one, obviously. You know, the kind that wins hearts and minds." He preened a bit, looking quite pleased with himself. "And might I just say, I clearly chose quite well- You're far more adorable than I could have guessed at a glance!" He winked at her. "There's a reason I've kept you around for so long, darling."

Dawn felt her cheeks flush hot, and she turned away, trying to hide her blush. It was both flattering and infuriating, being talked about like that by a Pokémon. A Murkrow, of all things! "Thanks," she mumbled, feeling both embarrassed and oddly... satisfied? It was hard to tell, really.

Murkrow cackled, his beak snapping shut as he leaned closer to her. "Oh, don't worry, you'll come around," he said, his voice a low murmur. "You're doing splendidly as our little puppet trainer. And who knows," he added, his tone dropping into something that sounded suspiciously like a purr, "Maybe you'll even start to enjoy it."

Dawn felt a knot twist in her stomach. "Enjoy being your servant?" she asked, her voice strained. "Is that what you think of me?"

Murkrow shrugged, his feathers ruffling slightly. "It's not the worst gig in the world," he said, his voice light. "Think about it: you get to hang out with all these cool Pokémon, you're the center of attention, and you get to be part of something big. What's not to love?" He shot her a cheeky wink, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement.

But then the seriousness returned to her voice. "I'm not a tool, Murkrow," she said, her jaw setting. "I'm a person, with my own thoughts and feelings. And I don't like being used. There is surely, utterly, absolutely, no chance I would ever enjoy being your servant."

1 Year Later

"Oh, Dawnie~!" Gothitelle's high-pitched voice pierced the serene silence of the high-class apartment as Dawn's eyes snapped open to the light of the morning sunrise streamed through the windows. "I do believe it's time for our breakfast, yes?"

Dawn stretched, smiling despite the early wake-up call. She casually tossed aside her blanket, hopped out of bed, and raced over to the closet, where she slipped into her frilly maid's outfit with a surprising amount of glee, feeling the soft fabric brush against her skin.

The apartment was indeed high-class, with gleaming hardwood floors and plush carpets, the walls adorned with rare Pokémon art, and the smell of fresh flowers filling the air. It was a stark contrast to the small, cluttered room she'd grown up in. But the best part was the view of the bustling city below, where Pokémon and humans mingled freely in the streets.

In the kitchen, the Gothita that had long ago evolved into a Gothitelle hovered politely, if impatiently, beside the fridge as Dawn raced over, still unused to moving quickly in the high-heels that were supposedly a necessary part of any Maid's uniform. The Pokémon's excitement was palpable as she watched Dawn set herself to work on a breakfast feast for her Masters.

"Now remember, Dawnie," Gothitelle chirped, "Leafeon adores strawberries in his crepes, and Weavile enjoys his eggs with a dash of hot sauce, quite the spicy little thing, he is." She giggled at her own joke, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she watched Dawn crack eggs and whisk batter.

Dawn nodded, already knowing the preferences of the Pokémon that owned her like the back of her hand. It had been a year since she'd first been captured by Murkrow, and in that time she'd become surprisingly accustomed to her role as their human servant. She cracked eggs into a bowl with the ease of a seasoned chef and began to whisk them into a frothy batter. Gothitelle flitted around her, chattering about the latest gossip in the Pokémon Championship league.

"...And apparently Cynthia- You know her, right?- She's added a new Pokemon to her team that's supposed to be absolutely terrifying! A Garchomp, was it?" Gothitelle chattered away as Dawn carefully poured the egg batter onto a hot pan, her thoughts drifting to the days when she used to cook for her own enjoyment, not under the watchful eye of her Pokémon captors. She had to admit, though, that cooking for them had become a sort of art form. Each breakfast had to be perfect, a symphony of flavors and textures that would satisfy their picky tastes.

Leafeon stumbled in, yawning and stretching his quadruped body. "Morning, Dawnie," he yawned, his voice a sleepy drawl. "Smells fantastic, as always." He ignored his dedicated chair and instead just jumped right on top of the polished oak table, his emerald eyes watching her with a mix of affection and boredom. He was the only one who hadn't changed over the many months that had passed- In fact, if anything, he seemed even more sleepy than he used to be.

Dawn giggled, serving him the first plate of crepes, artfully arranged with a bouquet of strawberries and a sprig of mint. "Thank you," she said, genuinely happy to see the Pokémon she'd grown to care for despite their unusual relationship. She knew they weren't her friends- Friends didn't typically force each other to wear maid uniforms and 'serve their every whim,' at least Dawn was relatively sure of that- But she couldn't deny that she had grown fond of her owners. They were a quirky bunch, each with their own personality that she had grown accustomed to.

Weavile sauntered in, his fur looking particularly shiny from a recent grooming session. "Oh, breakfast already?" he asked with a yawn. "I was planning on sleeping in."

Dawn rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "It's 11 AM, Master Weavile. Hardly sleeping in." She served him a plate of eggs with a side of crispy bacon, the sizzling scent making her stomach growl.

Leafeon took a dainty bite of his crepe, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Mmm, perfect, as always," he murmured, his vines swaying lazily as he chewed. Gothitelle nodded in agreement, her petticoat-like body fluttering as she took a seat at the table, sipping from a teacup that floated in midair before her.

Dawn felt a strange sense of satisfaction at their praise, even as she tried to ignore the fact that she was dressed like a caricature of a French maid, serving Pokémon breakfast. She'd come to accept her role, but that didn't mean she didn't miss the simplicity of her old life. The quiet mornings spent with her mom, the freedom to choose her own outfit, the ability to leave home whenever she felt like it instead of having to wait for one of her Masters' approval first... But she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand.

"Alright, who's next?" she called out cheerfully, turning back to the stove. Blastoise, who had used to be Squirtle, poked his head out of his bedroom, his heavy shell creaking with the effort. He'd grown so much that his room had to be custom-fitted to accommodate his size. "Master Blastoise, I've got your usual," she said, placing a plate of waffles with a dollop of whipped cream on top of the fridge, where he could easily grab it with his cannon-like arm.

The Pikachu who had long ago evolved into Raichu strutted in last, looking as bored as ever. She took her usual spot at the head of the table and waited for her breakfast without a word. Dawn couldn't help but feel a little irritated by her indifference, even after having to deal with it for a whole year. She'd worked hard to perfect her Pancake flipping technique, and not a single one of them had noticed... Other than Gothitelle, because she was sweet like that.

Dawn served Raichu a stack of fluffy pancakes with a side of crispy bacon. The electric type's tail crackled faintly with energy as she picked up her fork and knife. "Is this it?" she asked, glancing over at the other plates.

"Yes, Mistress," Dawn replied, placing the final plate in front of her. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

Raichu took a bite and shrugged. "It's fine," she mumbled, not bothering to look up from her plate, which coming from her was quite the high level of praise.

Dawn took a step back, surveying her work with a critical eye. Each plate was a masterpiece, tailored to the specific tastes of her Pokémon masters. She'd learned a lot about cooking since she'd been caught in that fateful Poké Ball. She'd had to. There wasn't much else to do in between battles and serving her masters, except cook. And clean. And do whatever else Murkrow demanded of her.

Speaking of Murkrow, he strutted into the room with a new confidence that came with his recent evolution into Honchkrow. He'd picked up a fancy hat along the way, a little accessory that made him look like he belonged on the cover of a Pokémon fashion magazine. "Ah, breakfast," he announced, his voice deeper and more refined than it used to be. "Looks like we're starting the day off right."

Honchkrow took his usual seat at the table, his hat tipping slightly as he eyed the spread before him. Using his wings as hands, he picked up a slice of perfectly toasted bread, slathered it with butter, and took a bite with a satisfied crunch. "Mmm, the crunchiness is just right," he said with a nod of approval. "You've outdone yourself again, Dawn."

Dawn couldn't help but feel a bit of pride swell within her. Despite her initial reluctance to serve these Pokémon, she had to admit that she'd become quite good at it. She'd learned to read their moods, to anticipate their needs before they even had to ask. And in return, she'd gained a strange sort of respect from them. Sure, she was still their servant, but she'd become... necessary. Indispensable, even.

As the Pokémon ate, Dawn cleared her throat. "M-masters," she began, her voice a bit shaky. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you all." They all looked up at her, surprised by the interruption. Gothitelle's eyes widened, and Leafeon paused mid-chew.

Honchkrow raised an eyebrow, setting his toast down. "What is it, dear?" he asked, his tone curious.

Dawn took a deep breath, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. "I... I've been thinking," she began. "I know this might seem weird, but I kind of like being... this." She waved her hands around, trying to encompass her entire life in one gesture. "Your servant, I mean." She looked down at her apron, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

"But I can't help but feel like I'm not... enough," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, sure, I've got the cooking down, and I can serve you all breakfast without breaking a sweat. But what if there's more to this?" She looked up at them, her eyes pleading. "What if I could do more for you all?"

The Pokémon exchanged glances, a silent conversation that she'd long ago learned to interpret. Gothitelle looked surprised, Leafeon intrigued, Weavile amused, and Raichu remained unfazed, continuing to stuff pancakes into her mouth. Only Honchkrow's expression was unreadable as he took a sip of his tea, his sharp gaze never leaving hers.

"More?" he echoed, his beak tilting in curiosity. "What do you have in mind?"

Dawn's cheeks flushed, and she struggled to meet his gaze, but surprisingly enough, actually managed to keep her eyes on his. "I... Um... Well, I don't really know," she admitted, "I didn't exactly have anything in mind when I offered... That."

"Ah, I see," Honchkrow said with a knowing smile. "You're just eager to please, aren't you, Dawn?" He took another sip of his tea, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Very well, let's take this outside. We can have a little chat on the balcony, just the two of us."

Dawn's heart skipped a beat at the idea of being alone with Honchkrow. Despite his haughty demeanor, Honchkrow was her favorite by far- He gave her the most praise, and called her fun names... She nodded eagerly and followed him out of the kitchen, the sound of their Pokémon companions' chatter fading behind them as they stepped into the cool morning air.

The balcony was as luxurious as the rest of the apartment, with a beautiful view of the bustling city. Honchkrow settled onto the plush outdoor couch, patting the spot beside him. "Come, sit," he said, his voice still casual but with an edge of authority that made her knees wobble a bit. She sat down, smoothing her apron and folding her hands in her lap.

He shifted, his wings fluttering as he readjusted himself. "Alright, Dawn," he began, "What's on your mind? What could you possibly want to do for us that you're not already doing?" His eyes twinkled with amusement, as if the very notion was adorable.

Dawn took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. "Well," she said, looking down at her hands. "I want to be... better for you all. Like, not just posing for you in battles, or cooking for you," She looked up at him, her eyes hopeful. "Could I maybe help with training more? Or, I don't know, manage your schedule? Or, or..." She trailed off, suddenly feeling silly.

Honchkrow leaned back into the couch, his laugh a deep, rolling sound that seemed to rumble through his entire body. "Oh, Dawn," he said, shaking his head with mirth. "You're such a precious little thing. Always eager to be of more service." He leaned in closer, his feathers brushing against her arm, making her shiver.

"But you already do so much for us," he purred, his eyes twinkling. "You're our little battling star, aren't you?" He nuzzled her cheek, and she felt a strange warmth spread through her. "And you just look so adorable in that little dress- I would pinch your cheek if I had fingers."

Dawn giggled, feeling both embarrassed and flattered by Honchkrow's sudden affection. "T-thank you, Master," she said, blushing furiously- And there was that twinge again, the one that told her she liked this weird, twisted relationship a little more than she probably should. But hey, if it got her what she wanted, who was she to complain?

Honchkrow leaned back, his wings folding behind him. "You know," he mused, "I think I see what you're after. You're not after more responsibility, or jobs- You just want me to shower you with more praise, don't you, darling~?"

Dawn nodded shyly, feeling like a Pokémon eagerly awaiting its Trainer's approval- Which she technically was, in a way. "Y-yeah, I guess," she murmured. "I... Um..." Looking back, that really had been the only reason she'd asked, hadn't it?

Honchkrow chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. "Very well," he said, his voice a velvet purr. "You've been a very good servant, Dawn. You've done everything we've asked of you and more." He leaned in closer, his wing wrapping around her, pulling her towards him in a gentle hug. "In fact, I've been thinking of giving you a little... reward."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she leaned into his embrace, the fabric of her apron crumpled between them. "R-reward?" she stuttered.

"Mmhmm," Honchkrow murmured into her ear, his beak nuzzling against her neck. "How do you feel about a collar?"

Dawn froze, her heart racing. A collar? She felt a strange thrill at the thought. It was like admitting her place in this... whatever this was, but she couldn't deny that the idea of it made her feel... safe, somehow. "I... I think I'd like that," she whispered, her voice shaking a little.

Honchkrow pulled back slightly, his gaze searching hers. "Really?" he asked, his smile widening into something that looked suspiciously like excitement. "Well, I'll be. I wasn't expecting you to be so eager." He leaned in again, his beak brushing against her ear as he whispered, "But you've earned it, darling. You've been the perfect little servant, and now it's time for you to get something to show it off."

Dawn couldn't help but let out a cute little squeal as Honchkrow spoke about the collar. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a Pidgey taking flight. It was something she hadn't quite expected, but the more she thought about it, the more it felt right. A collar, a symbol of her belonging, her purpose. It was almost like a badge of honor, acknowledging her role in their bizarre little family.

And with a badge like that with her, who needed any League Badges?

Chapter Text

A fun fact that a surprising number of people were ignorant about: Gardevoirs were NOT an all-female species. Sure, females were a lot more common, but there could be male Gardevoirs as well...

Which was why it was so annoying when very time Gardevoir was out in public, it was met with the same old song and dance. "Oh, she's such a pretty Gardevoir!" "She's so graceful, like a ballerina!" "What's her nickname?" It was all too much for the Pokémon to handle. He'd roll his eyes so often he'd probably give himself a migraine if he were physically capable of having one.

"W-wait... So that means..."

But today? Oh, today was a new low. His trainer had really outdone himself- Wally, with his own green hair that was suspiciously similar to Gardevoir's, had apparently thought Gardevoir was a girl all along. Gardevoir felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He'd been fighting alongside this human all these weeks, and the boy hadn't noticed? It was like being in a relationship with someone who didn't know your favorite color was blue, despite you wearing it every single day.

Wally looked up at him, his cheeks the same shade of red as the pokeballs he threw around so enthusiastically. "G-Gardevoir?" he stuttered, eyes widening like he'd just realized he'd been wearing his underwear inside out. "You were a boy the whole time!?"

Gardevoir let out a long, dramatic sigh as he lowered his dress back over his privates. "Gar, de. Voir, voir. (Yes, Wally. For the love of Arceus, yes.)" He placed a delicate hand on his hip. "Garde? (Is it that hard to believe?)"

In a way, he kind of understood why people always thought he was female- his movements were elegant, his voice was as smooth as a jazz saxophone, and his figure... well, it was definitely more hourglass than WWE wrestler.

Not that it stopped it from being utterly infuriating. Gardevoir had a gender, and it wasn't 'she'. It was 'he'. With a capital 'H' for 'hot', because he looked damn good in a mirror, thank you very much.

But hey, Gardevoir wasn't one to hold a grudge... unless it was really, really, REALLY worth it- And, in his opinion, Wally had definitely earned a grudge for his absurd levels of short-sightedness.

"W-well, I mean," Wally stammered from his place sitting on the bench in the park the two had stopped to chat in, "I just thought... I don't know, you're just so... you know, not boyish."

"Voir. (Not boyish.)" Gardevoir repeated, raising an eyebrow so high it might've disappeared into his hairline if he had any eyebrows to raise.

Wally blushed, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. "I-I mean, no offense! I just..."

"Gar, voir, (Oh, none taken, darling,)" Gardevoir said, batting his eyelashes dramatically and striking a pose, the skirt of his dress fluttering in the breeze. The trainer's cheeks grew even redder. "Gar. Garde? (But let me ask you something, Wally-Walrus. If I'm not 'boyish' enough for you, then what does that say about you, hm?)"

Wally's eyes widened. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"De... (Well...)" Gardevoir began with a smug smirk, "Garde... Voir~ (If you can't even tell that I'm a boy, then maybe you're the one who's a bit... girly~)" The last word dripped with a teasing lilt that Wally felt deep in his soul.

Wally sputtered indignantly. "What? No way! I'm totally not girly! I'm manly! I can bench press... well, I can't, but I can catch Pokémon!" He paused, realizing his argument might not be the best. "Okay, so maybe I'm not the strongest trainer out there, but I'm definitely not a girl!"

Gardevoir giggled, a sound that was surprisingly high-pitched and musical coming from a creature with no actual mouth. "De, garde~ (Oh, Wally, you're adorable when you're flustered like this~)" He waved a hand dismissively, his long, graceful fingers glinting in the sun. "Garde. Gar. (But if you say so, darling. If you say so.)"

Wally's cheeks puffed up like he'd just eaten a sour Gummi Berry. "I'm not adorable! I'm a... a..." He paused, trying to think of something that didn't make him sound like a total lame-o...

...

...And thought of nothing.

Gardevoir took the silence as an opportunity to saunter over to Wally, his hips swaying as he leaned down, placing a hand on the trainer's shoulder. "Gar... de, garde? (Maybe you just need a little... help, seeing that girliness?)" He winked, and before Wally could react, the Gardevoir had plucked his own Pokéball from the belt around the human's waist.

Wally's eyes widened as Gardevoir casually took a few steps back away from him. "What are you doing?"

Gardevoir tossed the ball up and down, his smile growing sly. "Voir~! Garde. (Oh, just a little experiment~! You know, for science.)"

With a casual flourish, Gardevoir tossed the Pokéball into the air and called out, "Garde! (Wally, I choose you!)" The ball clicked open and a beam of red light shot out, encircling the trainer in a flash of light. Wally's eyes went wide, his mouth agape, but he only had the chance to stammer out "Wait, Ga-" before the light enveloped his vision, and everything went dark.

When Wally came to, the world was spinning. Or was it just the hotel room? He groaned, his head feeling like someone had stuffed it full of feathers and shaken it like a snow globe. He blinked blearily, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was Gardevoir saying something about an experiment, and then a Pokeball, and...

Oh no.

Wally's head pounded like he'd gone ten rounds with a Slaking. His vision swam, and everything looked... pink? He blinked hard, willing the spots away, and that's when he noticed it. The fabric. The unmistakable feel of something soft and frilly against his skin.

He looked down and his heart plummeted to the floor. "Oh, no way, no way, no freaking way," he murmured to himself. He was dressed like a doll. A very, very, very pretty doll. He had on a cute little, overly-frilly dress, a corset that was tied on FAR too tight to be comfortable, a set of matching socks that came up to his knees, a pair of glossy pink high-heels that made his feet feel like they'd been dipped in jelly, and- the pièce de résistance- his hair had been restyled into an elaborate set of buns with pink ribbons woven through, as well as a pair of pigtails that bobbed whenever he moved his head.

Wally groaned and fell back, the back of his head smushing into the softness of the pillow. "What did I do to deserve this?" He'd been pranked before, sure, but never like this. And definitely not by his own Pokémon.

The door to the hotel room creaked open, and in swept Gardevoir, looking as smug as a cat who'd just gotten away with a very obvious fish murder. "Voir, (Ah, my dear Wally,)" he said, his tone dripping with faux sweetness. "De. Voir? (You're awake. I trust you enjoyed your little nap?)"

Wally was pretty sure he could feel the fabric of the dress chafing in places that weren't meant to be chafed. "What the heck is this, Gardevoir?!" he demanded, trying to sit up and failing spectacularly. The corset was not made for sitting. Or breathing, apparently.

Gardevoir glided over to the bed, his own dress fluttering around his legs as if it were made of silk and not just Pokémon fabric. "Gar de-de, (Oh, Wally-Walrus,)" he cooed, patting the human's head like he was a pet Chihuahua who'd just learned to sit. "Garde, voir~? (You see, since you couldn't tell the difference between a boy and a girl, I figured, why not just make you one~?)"

Wally's eyes widened to the size of Pikachu's. "You've gotta be kidding me," he murmured, his voice barely carrying over the sound of his heart doing a tap dance in his chest. "This isn't funny, Gardevoir!" He pushed himself off the bed and tried to stand up, but the corset and high-heels had other plans for him, the unusual combination of restriction and wobbliness sending him face-first into the floorboards with a thud that echoed through the room.

"Gar-de-voir! (Whoops-a-daisy!)" Gardevoir exclaimed, not even bothering to hide the laughter in his voice.

Wally glared up at his Pokémon from the floor, the dress bunched up around his face. "You think this is funny?!" he yelled, his voice muffled by fabric. "I'm dressed like a-a... a... girl!" He managed to sit up, the corset digging painfully into his ribs.

"Gar, gar, (Oh, hush, darling,)" Gardevoir said, waving a hand dismissively. "Voir. De! Voir. (You look fabulous. Absolutely stunning! The belle of the ball.)" Gardevoir's words stung, but Wally couldn't deny the odd thrill that bubbled up in his chest at the compliment, even if it was just a twisted way for the Pokémon to mess with him.

"De, (Now,)" Gardevoir said, waving his hand upward, "Garde! (Stand up so we can get started with the rest!)"

Wally's cheeks burned, and his eyes narrowed at his own reflection in the shiny high-heels. He was definitely not enjoying this, but he had a feeling that fighting back right now was like swimming against a tsunami made of glitter. So, with a grumble and a lot of wobbling, he managed to get to his feet, the dress swishing around him.

"Alright, fine," Wally muttered, trying to balance on the heels, "But if you think I'm going to just go along with this, you've got another thing coming!" He stomped his foot down, only to realize that it just made his wobbliness worse. Gardevoir watched him with a look that was the human equivalent of someone holding in their laughter at a terrible karaoke performance.

"De~. De- Garde! (I disagree~. Here, watch- From now on, I order you to speak all girly-like!)"

Wally's face went from red to nuclear. "What? No way!" But as the words left his mouth, he felt his mouth move to say them in a tone that was softer, higher pitched, and... well, pretty darn cute. Wally slapped his hands over his mouth in shock. "Wha-what just happened?"

Gardevoir leaned in close, smirking, as he held up a familiar red-and-white sphere. "Gar. Garde~? Voir! (Oh, it's simple, darling. I caught you in this Pokéball, remember~? That means, unless I release you, you're under my command!)" He waggled his empty hand in a 'tada' gesture. "Voir? Garde! (Now, isn't that just fabulous? You'll be speaking and acting like a proper lady until I decide otherwise!)"

Wally's eyes darted to the Pokeball, then back to Gardevoir, his mind racing. "You can't be serious," he squeaked, his voice uncharacteristically high pitched and adorable. He tried to stand firm, but the heels and corset weren't exactly conducive to a strong stance. "I won't do it! You can't make me!"

What had previously been a fun-looking expression on Gardevoir's face had suddenly become far more ominous. "Gar, de. Voir. (Oh, but Wally, darling, I can. And I will.)" He paused dramatically. "Garde, gar! (Now, I order you to take three graceful steps forward and twirl on one heel, like the belle of the ball that you are!)"

Wally's eyes bulged in horror. But when he tried to protest, his legs moved of their own accord. He took the three wobbly steps forward and, with a complete and utter lack of grace, spun around on one heel. The skirt of his dress fluttered up and around him, showing off the lacy underthings he'd somehow ended up in.

"G-Gardevoir!" he shrieked, his voice hitting a pitch that would've made a Chatot proud. "This isn't funny! You've got to let me out of this!"

But Gardevoir's smirk only grew wider as he watched Wally struggle. "Garde, Garde. De~ (Oh, but I'm just getting started, darling. Now, I want you to turn around and bend over. You know, so I can appreciate the view~)"

Wally felt his cheeks burn hotter than a Charmander's tail. "I'm not doing that," he said firmly, his voice wobbling only slightly. But as much as he wanted to stand his ground, his body betrayed him again, turning him around to face the floor. His knees bent and his back arched, and before he knew it, he was staring at his own reflection in the glossy pink heels. His face was a mask of horror as he felt Gardevoir's gaze rake over him, his mind racing with thoughts of what this Pokémon had in store for him.

"Gar, garde! (You're a natural, Wally-Walrus!)" Gardevoir clapped his hands together in glee. The room spun as Wally tried to fight the order, his body refusing to cooperate. He was utterly powerless against the will of his trapped form. "Voir! (Now, hold that pose while I get some cute pics!)" The sound of Wally's phone being turned on made Wally gasp in shock.

The camera app on his phone opened up, and he watched in horror as Gardevoir held it up, the lens pointing directly at Wally's exposed backside. "No, please, not this," Wally begged, his voice high and panicked. But his protests only seemed to encourage Gardevoir, who took a step closer, zooming in on the delicate lace of the lingerie. The click of the camera shutter was the only response he got, followed by a string of giggles that were definitely not coming from the trainer.

Wally felt his face burning. He was utterly humiliated, his dignity in tatters around him like the confetti at the end of a parade gone wrong. "Gardevoir, please stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible over his own panting.

"Gar, de~? (But where's the fun in that, darling~?)" Gardevoir said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he held the phone at just the right angle to capture the most embarrassing shot possible. "Voir. Gar! Devoir! (Now, stand up so I can get a nice profile view. Yes, just like that! Hm, hold up two fingers in a V-sign- that'd be cute!)"

Wally felt his face heat up even more, his cheeks feeling like they might just catch fire at any moment. He begrudgingly complied, his body moving against his will. He posed with two fingers up by his face, trying his best to keep from falling down as he stood awkwardly on the heels. "G-Gardevoir, please," he whimpered, his voice pathetically high.

"De, gar~ (Hold on, darling~)" Gardevoir sang out, snapping a picture. The phone's camera flashed, blinding Wally for a moment. He could feel the Pokémon's glee like a physical presence in the room. "Garde! (You're so adorable when you're embarrassed!)"

Wally's mortification grew with every click of the camera. Each snap was another nail in the coffin of his dignity, each giggle from Gardevoir a twist of the knife. "P-please," he squeaked, his voice as high and desperate as a Chimecho's cry, "I'll do anything, just stop!"

"Voir? Gar? Gar... Devoir~! ('Anything,' darling? Really? Hm... I think I might just hold you to that~!)"

Wally's heart hammered in his chest as he realized he'd just given Gardevoir the perfect opening to really make his life a living hell. Gardevoir set his phone down with a grin and clapped his hands together. "De, gar, garde, (Alright, sweet Wally, it's time for you to pay for your ignorance,)" he said, his tone a blend of sweetness, condescension, and a hint of malice. "De, gar. (Now, get on your knees.)"

Wally's eyes widened in horror. "What? No! I'm not doing that!" But again, his body didn't listen, and before he knew it, he was kneeling down in the middle of the hotel room floor, his knees complaining against the cold hardness. The dress bunched up around him, and the corset dug in even deeper, making it hard to breathe. "Why are you doing this to me?" he managed to ask between gasps for air.

Gardevoir sailed over to him, a look of pure satisfaction painted on his face. "De, voir, (Because, my dear Wally-Walrus,)" he said, bending down to whisper in the trainer's ear, "Garde, voir. Devoir? (you've been living in ignorance, mistaking me for a girl. So now, it's time for a little role reversal, don't you think?)" He straightened up with a flourish, his dress fluttering around him like a cloud of petticoats. "Voir, (And after this,)" he proclaimed, his eyes gleaming, "Garde~ (You'll never mistake my gender ever again~)"

Wally's eyes widened in shock as Gardevoir gave a dramatic pause, then reached down to part the 'fabric' of his own dress, falling away to reveal something that was most definitely not feminine: a long, hard member that was as proud and unyielding as the Gardevoir himself. It was a stark reminder that he wasn't dealing with a female Pokémon. The human's jaw dropped to the floor, and Gardevoir couldn't help but preen at the reaction. "Garde, gar~ (Look what we have here, darling~)" he purred, stroking himself lightly.

The room felt like it was closing in on Wally, his cheeks hotter than a Charizard's fire. "W-What the heck, Gardevoir?!" he squealed, his voice hitting octaves that would make a Pichu proud. He couldn't believe his own Pokémon was doing this to him, but he couldn't move- Gardevoir's orders held fast.

"De, Gar, (Oh, come now, Wally-Walrus,)" Gardevoir said, his voice a purr that made Wally's skin crawl. "Gar. Garde~ (You're so cute when you're flustered. Now, I'm going to need you to be a good boy and kiss it for me~)"

Wally's eyes were as wide as the Hoenn region as he stared at Gardevoir's... member. He couldn't believe this was happening, but his body was already leaning in, his face approaching the pokémon's crotch. "N-no!" he squealed, his voice as high-pitched as a Jigglypuff's giggle. But his body didn't listen. He felt his face get closer and closer, until his lips were mere centimeters away from the tip.

"De, (Yes, darling,)" Gardevoir said, his voice like honey as he stroked his cock gently. "Voir. De. Garde~! (Go ahead, Wally-Walrus. Be a good girl and give it a kiss. Show me how much you love me~!)"

Wally's eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling with a mix of horror and something else he didn't dare acknowledge. The corset felt tighter than ever, his chest heaving as his face hovered over Gardevoir's crotch. His heart hammered in his chest like a drumline, but his lips moved of their own accord, closing the distance to kiss the tip of the pokémon's shaft. It was soft, and yet, unmistakably male. The taste was new and strange to him, and his mind reeled with confusion and disgust. But at the same time, there was an inexplicable thrill that shot through him, leaving him lightheaded.

"Mmm~," Gardevoir hummed in pleasure, his smug smile growing even wider. "De. Voir, (That's it. Just like that,)" He coaxed, watching Wally's pink cheeks turn ever-brighter shades of pink. "Gar. Garde~ (Now, just keep going. You know you want to~)"

Wally's eyes remained tightly shut, his mind racing with thoughts of escape and fury. But his body responded to the commands, his lips moving down the shaft with a surprising ease, his tongue darting out to taste the alien flesh. It was salty and a little sweet, and somehow, it didn't repulse him as much as he'd thought it would.

"Garde, voir~ (Mm, yes, Wally-Walrus, just like that~)" Gardevoir purred, his hand moving to the back of Wally's head, gently pushing him further down. Wally felt his cheeks puff up with the effort, his eyes watering slightly. The corset was making it hard to breathe, but he couldn't stop now. The thrill that had shot through him had morphed into something... else. Something he didn't quite understand.

As he kissed and licked, Wally felt his own body respond in ways that made his mind reel. He'd never felt this way before, not even with the occasional crush or fleeting attraction to a girl back home. This was different, alien, and yet... not entirely unpleasant. He felt a strange heat building in his lower belly, like a Slowpoke Tail cooking over a hot flame. He tried to ignore it, to fight against it, but the more he tried, the stronger the sensation grew.

Gardevoir, meanwhile, was in heaven. The softness of Wally's lips, the warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue danced around his cock... it was all so utterly delightful. He hadn't planned for it to go this far, but he wasn't about to stop now. He had his trainer exactly where he wanted him: humiliated and at his mercy. "Mm, Gar. Garde~ (Suck it, Wally. Like you mean it~)" he urged, his hand pushing gently but firmly on the back of the trainer's head.

Wally's mind was racing, a tornado of thoughts and emotions. But his body was a traitor, responding to the commands with an enthusiasm that shocked him. His tongue swirled around the shaft, his cheeks hollowing as he took in more and more of Gardevoir's length. The taste was strange, but he found it oddly addictive, like a rare Pokémon berry that you couldn't get enough of. He could feel the pokémon's pleasure building, and against his will, he found himself eager to give it to him.

"Gar, de~ (Good girl, Wally~)" Gardevoir moaned, his hips rolling gently as he pushed into the trainer's mouth. "Voir... Garde... (Just like that, darling... Take it all in...)" His hand carded through Wally's light green hair as he began to set a rhythm. Wally's eyes watered and his jaw began to ache, but the command in Gardevoir's voice was unmistakable. He had to continue.

As the pokémon's cock hit the back of his throat, Wally gagged, his eyes flying open in shock. Gardevoir's gaze bore into him, a mix of amusement and triumph. "Mmm... Gar, gar, (Swallow, darling,)" he said, his voice a soft purr. "Garde, de? (It's all part of the fun, you see?)"

Wally's eyes watered and his nose wrinkled, but he did as he was told. He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat clenching around the thick member, and Gardevoir's grip on his hair tightened in pleasure. He felt a strange sense of... accomplishment, like he'd just defeated a tough Gym Leader. But the feeling was quickly swallowed by a rising tide of embarrassment and confusion. What was happening to him? He'd never felt like this before, and certainly not for a Pokémon!

Gardevoir's breathing grew heavier, his hips starting to thrust slightly. Wally's eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to take in the full length, his cheeks bulging like a squirtle's. He could feel the pokémon's cock twitching in his mouth, and though he'd never had any kind of sex before, he knew what was coming next. The pressure was building, and it was all he could do to keep up with the rhythm, his mouth moving up and down like a yo-yo on a string.

"De, de~ (Almost there, Wally-Walrus~)" Gardevoir whispered, his eyes half-closed in ecstasy. "Voir~ (Just a little more~)" His grip on Wally's head tightened slightly, guiding the human's mouth faster and deeper, until, finally, Gardevoir's hips bucked, and he released his load into Wally's mouth. Wally choked slightly on the unfamiliar taste, his eyes watering as he tried not to gag.

The pokémon's orgasm seemed to go on forever, his cock pulsing as he filled Wally's mouth with his seed. Wally had no choice but to swallow, his throat working hard as he tried not to gag. When it was finally over, Gardevoir let go of Wally's hair, his breath coming in gasps. "Gar... Garde~ (Oh, Wally... You really are a natural~)" He said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Wally pulled away, spitting and coughing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Y-you..." He croaked, his voice hoarse from the ordeal. "You can't just... do that to me!"

"Gar, de. Voir? (Oh, but darling, I just did. And you know what?)" Gardevoir said, his voice dripping with smugness. He tucked himself back into the folds of his dress, his chuckles echoing around the room like a trapped Pidgey's calls for help. "De. Garde~ (You liked it. I could see it in your eyes~)"

Wally's eyes shot up to meet Gardevoir's, filled with a mix of anger and... something else. Something that made him squirm in his frilly dress. "L-liked it? I hated it!" he protested, his voice cracking in a way that belied his words.

In response, Gardevoir cheekily shrugged and said, "Gar! Garde? (If you say so! Now, how do you feel about doing a little bit of shopping?")

Wally's eyes narrowed as Gardevoir suggested they go shopping. "Shopping? Are you serious?" he grumbled, but his body was already moving to stand, the corset squeezing him into an unnaturally feminine pose. The pokémon's smug smile only grew as he took the human's hand and led him out of the hotel room, the skirt of the dress swishing with each forced step.

"Garde, de, (Oh, don't be such a party pooper, darling,)" Gardevoir said, his voice dripping with sugary sweetness that made Wally's teeth ache. "Voir! (You're going to love this, I promise!)" He winked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Gar, devoir, de? (Now remember, you're my good little girl now, so you have to do exactly as I say, understood?)"

Wally's stomach churned, but he nodded jerkily, the reality of his situation crashing down around him like a crumbling rock wall. Gardevoir's hand in his felt hot and foreign, guiding him down the hotel hallway with a surprisingly firm grip for a creature that was so thin. "De, (Good girl,)" he purred, giving his 'trainer's' hand a gentle squeeze. "Voir? Garde. Voir! Voir. (Now, let's keep our little secret, shall we? And no telling anyone you're Wally, either! I want to see how many people recognize you.)"

Wally's heart raced, but his voice came out a meek "Yes, Gardevoir," in a high-pitched whine. The corset was tight, making it difficult to breathe, and the heels made his legs wobble furiously. But he followed, unable to do anything else, his mind racing all the while.

They passed by several hotel guests and employees in the hallway, all of whom gave the oddly dressed duo curious glances... But no one recognized Wally. The new hairdo and frilly dress- as well as the makeup that Gardevoir had painstakingly applied- had done their job well. The humiliation of being seen like this was almost too much to bear, but Gardevoir seemed to be enjoying every second of it. "Mm, De, (Yes,)" the pokémon cooed, patting Wally's bottom as they walked, "Keep that up and we'll be the talk of the town, darling!"

Wally's cheeks burned hotter than a Volcarona's fire as he walked alongside his 'trainer', his legs feeling like jelly in the high heels. Every step was a battle against his body's instincts to flee, but he couldn't, his mind reeling with the events of the last half hour all the while. How had he ever let this happen? Why was he not fighting back more? And why, oh why, was his body responding to Gardevoir's touch in a way that made him feel... good? It was like he'd been caught in a trainer's net, unable to escape the situation he'd been thrown into.

They passed by a group of tourists, the men ogling the 'girl' on Gardevoir's arm and the women giving them an approving nod. Wally's stomach flipped as he realized just how well the disguise was working. He hadn't been in this town for very long, sure, but the thought of being so unrecognizable was unsettling, to say the least. He squirmed under the gazes, the unyielding attention making him feel like a prize Pikachu in a parade, put on display for all to see and judge.

Finally, Gardevoir stopped in front of a clothing boutique that looked like it had been plucked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. "Garde! (Ah, here we are!)" he said with a flourish. "Devoir~ (Now, let's find you some clothes that really suit your new identity~)"

Wally's stomach twisted into a pretzel at the thought of more embarrassment. He wanted to protest, to tell Gardevoir that he'd had enough, but his mouth remained stubbornly closed, his body moving to enter the store as if he were on autopilot. The smell of new fabrics and the tinkling of bells as the door opened made his heart race even more.

The boutique was a kaleidoscope of colors, with clothes that looked like they belonged on the most glamorous of Pokémon Coordinators. The saleswoman looked up from her display of Pokémon accessories and her eyes lit up at the sight of Wally, beaming with joy. "Welcome! Can I help you find something special for you? Though, I suppose you already have that well in hand," she giggled, looking over Wally's clothes, "So are you here to get something for your Pokemon?"

Gardevoir's grip on Wally's shoulder tightened, and Wally quickly replied as convincingly as he could. "U-um! No! For... Me," Wally replied, his voice as high and timid as a Chatot's whisper. The saleswoman's smile grew, and she nodded eagerly. "I-I want to look nice for Gardevoir," he said, his cheeks burning brighter than a Flareon's flames.

"Ah, what a sweet little thing you are," she cooed, her eyes flicking down to Wally's attire. "Let me just grab some clothes for you to try on!"

The woman disappeared into the back, leaving Wally and Gardevoir in the middle of the shop floor. Wally looked around nervously, his eyes darting from one garish outfit to the next. Gardevoir took his hand off his shoulder, and- Even though he wanted to bolt- Wally stood firmly in place as Gardevoir started to browse the racks with an enthusiasm that could only be described as predatory. Each time he pulled out an outfit, his eyes glinted with amusement as he held it up to Wally, as if to say 'how ridiculous does this look on you?'

"I'm baaaaaaack!" The saleswoman announced dramatically as she returned with an armful of clothes. She looked surprised to see Gardevoir holding such an over-the-top dress but quickly regained her composure, her smile never wavering. "Now, darling, let's get you into something that really shows off your figure," she cooed, holding up a neon pink miniskirt and matching crop top.

Wally's eyes widened in horror as the outfit was held up to his body. "I-I don't think that's my style," he stuttered, trying to shrink into himself. But Gardevoir's grip was like a steel trap, and he could feel his body moving towards the fitting room before he could even finish his protest.

Once inside, the pokémon took over, pulling at the dress he was wearing and pushing him into the neon pink monstrosity. The skirt was so short it barely covered his crotch, and the top was so tight it was practically painted on. "Mm, voir, (Mm, let's see how this looks,)" Gardevoir said with a wink, his voice thick with amusement. "De, de. (Turn around, darling.)"

Wally's face was a picture of despair as he turned, the skirt barely covering his underwear. The saleswoman giggled, "Oh, you're going to need something bigger, darling. You're positively bursting out of that!" She scurried off, returning with a bigger size that Wally begrudgingly tried on.

The next hour was a blur of lace, silk, and satin. Gardevoir made him model each outfit with an enthusiasm that was as forced as the smile on Wally's face. The pokémon would giggle and make snide comments, his eyes gleaming with amusement as Wally squirmed in the too-tight dresses and skirts. Each outfit was more overly feminine than the last, with frilly dresses, miniskirts, and blouses that made Wally feel like a doll in a game of dress-up. The saleswoman, oblivious to the situation, cooed and fussed over him, making suggestions for accessories and shoes that would 'complete the look'.

Finally, Gardevoir was satisfied, and he happily ordered Wally to pay for all of the clothes and accessories, watching with a smug smile as Wally's hand reached for his wallet and handed over the money with a shaky hand. The saleswoman, thrilled with the sale, handed over the bags with a cheerful, "Thank you, dear!"

"Y-yeah... No problem."

Wally's voice was barely above a whisper as he took the credit card from his wallet, his hand trembling slightly as he handed it over to the saleswoman. The realization that he was paying for his own humiliation was like a cold water splash to the face, yet he couldn't deny the heat pooling between his legs. The skirt he was wearing was so short that he could only desperately hope the saleswoman couldn't see the tent in his panties when he bent over to pick up a dropped accessory. It was mortifying, and yet...

He couldn't help but feel a strange thrill with every giggle and coo from Gardevoir. The way the pokémon's eyes lingered on his body, the way his hands lingered a little too long when helping him into clothes- it was as if he was a prize to be won, and Gardevoir had claimed him fair and square. Each new outfit was more revealing than the last, pushing his boundaries until he was sure there was nothing left to hide. And with each layer that was peeled away, Wally found his heart racing faster, his breaths shorter.

But finally, finally, the two left the store, the bags of clothes swinging from Wally's arms like a cruel reminder of his new, unwanted reality. His legs felt wobbly from the heels, and the corset was cutting off his air supply. But amidst the embarrassment and the overwhelming sense of dread, there was something... else. Something that was as confusing as it was undeniable.

Wally felt it as Gardevoir led him through the small town's streets, his hand resting possessively on the small of Wally's back. It was like a tiny Voltorb had lodged itself in his stomach and was now zapping him with erratic bursts of electricity. Every time the pokémon's fingers grazed his skin, it was like a jolt of pleasure that made him jump. And every time Gardevoir called him 'sweetie' or 'darling' in that sickeningly sweet tone, his heart did a little backflip.

He couldn't understand why his body was betraying him like this. He should be disgusted, furious, anything but... turned on. Yet, there it was, an undeniable heat that grew with every step, every humiliating moment. He felt his face flush with every leer from a passing man, every giggle from a group of teenage girls who couldn't resist pointing and whispering.

Gardevoir noticed Wally's arousal and couldn't help but smirk, his eyes gleaming with victory. "Devoir~ (Looks like someone's enjoying their little situation~)" he whispered into Wally's ear, his breath hot against the trainer's neck. The sensation sent a shiver down Wally's spine, making him want to scream in frustration and need simultaneously.

They stopped in front of a lingerie store, the window display showcasing delicate lace and silk that Wally had never before considered wearing. Gardevoir's grip on his wrist was firm as he pulled him inside. The scent of the store was intoxicating, a mix of sweet perfumes and something else that made Wally's heart race even faster. He could feel his cock straining against the fabric of his panties, and he was acutely aware of the wetness that had started to soak through. It was as if the more embarrassed and humiliated he got, the more his body responded to the situation. It was a betrayal of the highest order, and yet he couldn't bring himself to want to pull away from Gardevoir's grasp. Whether that was the Pokeball's doing was yet to be known.

This time, fortunately, Gardevoir seemed to want in and out of the store as quickly as possible, only grabbing a few fancy pairs of panties, making Wally pay for them as well, then booking it. He wasn't nervous, though- No, from what Wally could tell, Gardevoir seemed to be excited for something.

And that filled Wally with quite a bit of dread.

The door shut behind Gardevoir with a click that echoed through the plush hotel room. Wally stumbled in after the pokémon, his high heels making a ridiculous clacking sound against the marble floor. The corset was tight, his breasts aching with every breath, and his skirt felt like a prison around his legs. The room looked the same as it had before their humiliating shopping spree, yet everything felt different. The bed looked like a throne of embarrassment, and the mirror was a reflection of a nightmare.

Gardevoir's eyes lit up with mischief as he turned to face Wally, his long legs crossing with a grace that seemed to mock the trainer's clumsiness. "De, garde! (Now, Wally-Walrus, it's time for your final test!)" he said, his voice a purr that sent a shiver down Wally's spine. "Devoir... Garde~ (You're going to show me just how much you've learned about being a girl... Now, pull down your pants and show me your little butthole~)"

Wally's cheeks flamed as he looked down at his frilly outfit, the tightness of the corset and the shortness of the skirt making him feel like a trapped butterfly. His hands shook as he reached down towards the skirt, his eyes never leaving Gardevoir's smug gaze. The pokémon watched him with an unnerving focus, his own arousal clear as day. "G-gardevoir..." Wally whined, his voice high and desperate, "I-I can't..."

But his protests were cut off as Gardevoir clicked his tongue and gave Wally's arm a gentle squeeze. "Garde. De~ (Oh, come on, darling, you can do it. I know you want to~)" he cooed, his grip on the trainer's wrist tightening slightly. The pressure from the Pokéball was back, the gentle reminder that he had no say in the matter. With a resigned sigh, Wally allowed his hands to continue their work, the fabric of the skirt whispering against his skin as he revealed his pink, lacy panties.

He felt a strange mix of emotions as he pulled the underwear down to expose himself to Gardevoir's gaze. On one hand, there was the burning shame that washed over him like a tidal wave, making him want to hide and never come out again. On the other, there was a thrill, a heat that grew with every second that Gardevoir's eyes lingered on his most private parts. His body was a traitor, betraying his mind with every pulse of desire that shot through his veins.

"Gar- Voir! Voir! (Now, drape yourself over the bed- I don't want to see a hint of your front! Your ass is what matters right now!)"

Wally's eyes went wide with shock and embarrassment. His legs trembled as he shuffled over to the bed, the heels of his boots clicking on the floor. He laid over the bed, his face buried in the plush pillows, his skirt hiked up to expose his round bottom to Gardevoir's eager gaze. The Pokémon's eyes shimmered with excitement as he approached, his hand reaching for Wally's waist, his other hand reaching down to part his own dress once more.

"Gar... Gardevoir... I..." Wally's voice was muffled by the bed, his breathing quick and shallow. The pokémon's touch was like a brand, searing his skin, making him feel both terrified and excited beyond belief. Gardevoir's hand slid down the curve of Wally's hip, teasing the edge of the lacy panties that clung to his body like a second skin.

"De, (Just relax, darling,)" Gardevoir whispered, his voice a soft caress in Wally's ear. "Devoir... (You're so beautiful like this...)" His hand slid further, cupping the trainer's ass cheek firmly, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Garde, (Now, let's see if you can take it like a good little girl,)" he added, his tone dropping to a seductive purr that sent shivers down Wally's spine.

Wally's eyes squeezed shut, his mind racing. He could feel the pressure of the Pokéball within his mind, reminding him that he was powerless to resist. His body was his own betrayer, his cock straining against the fabric of his panties, begging for release. Gardevoir's hand moved away from his cheek, and Wally heard the soft sound of fabric shifting. The pokémon's cock was out again, and the anticipation was like a vice around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

He felt a gentle push, and his legs spread wider, the cool air of the room kissing his overheated skin. The anticipation was unbearable, his heart hammering against his ribs like a wild Pokémon trying to escape its Pokeball. And then, the pressure was back, but this time, it was more than just psychological. Gardevoir's cock was pressing against Wally's tight, unyielding hole, and the trainer couldn't help the whimper that escaped his lips.

"G-Garde... I... I can't..." Wally's voice was barely above a whisper, his body trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. But Gardevoir's hands were on his hips, guiding him, pulling him down, and suddenly, the tip of the pokémon's cock was inside him. Wally's eyes watered, his body tightening around the intrusion, trying to push it out, but it was like fighting a Magneton's magnetic pull.

Gardevoir chuckled, a dark sound that sent chills down Wally's spine. "De... (Just breathe, darling...)" he instructed, his grip firm as he began to push deeper. The pressure was immense, the feeling of being filled so completely alien and overwhelming. Wally's legs kicked out, his body trying to reject the unwelcome advances, but Gardevoir's strength was unyielding. "Voir... (You're so tight, Wally...)" he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Wally's eyes squeezed shut tighter, his teeth digging into the mattress he'd pressed his face against as Gardevoir began to move, his cock sliding in and out with an ease that was terrifying. The pain was intense, a white-hot knife that cut through Wally's body, but it was soon overshadowed by something else. Something that made his toes curl in the expensive high-heels. It was a feeling that started as a spark in his core and grew into a wildfire, consuming him whole.

The pokémon's hips rocked back and forth, his cock filling Wally up to the brim with every thrust. Each movement sent shockwaves through Wally's body, making him quiver and shake, his muscles tightening around the pokémon's girth. The Pokeball's power ensured that he could do nothing but take it, no matter how much his mind rebelled. Yet, with every thrust, every gasp of pleasure that Gardevoir coaxed from him, Wally felt a strange sense of... acceptance. It was as if his body had given up the fight, had admitted defeat, and was now eager to please the victor.

"De, garde, (Ah, Wally-Walrus, you're taking it so well,)" Gardevoir said, his hand coming up to stroke Wally's hair, which had come loose from its earlier styling. "Gar, de~? (You're learning to be a good girl, aren't you~?)" His grip on Wally's hip grew tighter, his thrusts more forceful. "Gar. (Tell me how much you like it.)" He demanded, his voice a low growl.

Wally's face was buried in the bed, his muffled cries of pain and pleasure the only sounds in the room. His body was on fire, every nerve ending singing with sensation. He didn't know if it was the Pokeball's power or his own traitorous desires, but he found himself pushing back against Gardevoir's hips, meeting the pokémon's rhythm with his own. "I-I... I can't," he gasped out, his voice a high-pitched whine that didn't sound like his own.

"Garde... Devoir... (Tell me how it feels, Wally-Walrus... Tell me how much you love it...)" Gardevoir's voice was a soothing balm to Wally's frayed nerves, even as he drove into him with a ferocity that made the bedframe creak.

Wally's voice was a garbled mess of sounds, a symphony of pleasure and pain that he didn't know how to articulate. But the Pokeball's power was relentless, and soon, the words spilled from his lips. "I-I... It feels..." He choked out, his body writhing under the pokémon's control. "It feels... good..." The words were forced, as if they didn't belong to him, but they were true. Every inch of Gardevoir's cock inside him was a testament to the power dynamics that had shifted so dramatically in their relationship.

Gardevoir's eyes flashed with something that might have been pride as he heard Wally's admission. "De~! (Good girl~)" he praised, his hips slamming into Wally's ass with a ferocity that sent the human's body bouncing on the bed. "Devoir~, (Keep talking, tell me more~,)" The pokémon's voice was a mix of sweetness and command, a heady blend that made Wally's stomach flip.

Wally's words grew more coherent, his voice high and desperate as he described the sensations that were overtaking him. "It's... It's like nothing I've ever felt before," he gasped, his eyes squeezed shut. "It's... It's so big, and it hurts, but... but it's also..." He trailed off, his body shuddering as Gardevoir's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot. The pokémon's eyes narrowed, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"Gar, devoir, (Tell me, Wally-Walrus, tell me how much you like it when I fill you up,)" Gardevoir's voice was like silk over thorns, coaxing and commanding in one breath. "Devoir... (How much you like being my little slut...)" His hips moved faster now, his cock driving into Wally with a force that had the human crying out into the mattress. The pokémon's hand tightened in Wally's hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck, and revealing the expression on Wally's face to the world: a mix of agony and ecstasy.

Wally's breath hitched in his throat as he felt Gardevoir's cock hit that spot again, the one that made him see stars. His voice was a high-pitched whine, his words slurred. "It... It feels... Good... Garde-Gardevoir," he admitted, the words sticking in his throat like honey. The pokémon's grip tightened, his hips moving faster, his cock pushing into Wally with a force that was almost violent.

"De, garde, (That's right, sweetie, tell me how much you love it,)" Gardevoir's voice was a purr, his breath hot against Wally's neck. The trainer's body was a symphony of sensation, his skin alight with every touch, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire. "Voir... (You're such a good little girl for me...)" The pokémon's words were a drug, a sweet poison that Wally couldn't get enough of.

And then, it slipped out. A desperate, gasped whisper that hung in the air like a curse. "D-daddy..." Wally's eyes shot open, his body stiffening as the word echoed in his ears. He'd never said that word before, not in his entire life. But it felt right, in this twisted, embarrassing way, as if his body knew what it needed to say even when his mind didn't.

Gardevoir's thrusts stuttered for a moment, his eyes going wide with shock. But the pokémon was nothing if not quick on his feet, and he recovered almost immediately. "De, garde! (That's right, my little slut, call me Daddy!)" His smile grew even more wicked as he leaned over Wally's back, his hand coming up to pinch the trainer's nipples through the fabric of his dress. "Gar, Devoir~ (You're going to love this, Daddy's going to make you feel so good~)"

Wally's body responded to the new name with a spike of arousal that was so intense it was almost painful. He'd never felt anything like this before, never knew his body could react so viscerally to words alone. "D-Daddy..." he whispered again, his voice trembling. Gardevoir's cock was hitting that spot over and over again, and Wally could feel his orgasm building, a volatile storm brewing in his core.

The pokémon's grip on his hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. "Gar... De, De! (That's it, baby girl... Take it all, take Daddy's cock!)" He growled, his voice thick with desire. Wally's legs quivered, his body no longer his own as Gardevoir used him for his own pleasure. Yet, the trainer couldn't help but arch his back, pushing into each thrust with a desperation that was as surprising as it was humiliating.

The pressure in Wally's stomach grew, his cock straining against the fabric of his panties. He could feel it, the inevitable climax that he hadn't wanted but now craved like a potion after a battle. "D-Daddy... I-I'm gonna..." He choked out, his voice a high-pitched wail that was lost in the plush pillows.

Gardevoir's grip on his hips tightened, his cock pounding into Wally with a ferocity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. "Garde... De~ (Cum for me, baby... Cum for Daddy~)" His words were like a spell, pushing Wally over the edge. The trainer's body spasmed, his cock exploding with a force that had him seeing stars.

Wally's orgasm was like a bomb going off inside him, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. He could feel Gardevoir's cock pulse inside him, the pokémon's own release following quickly behind. The room was filled with their muffled cries and the sound of flesh slapping together, a symphony of lust and humiliation.

When it was over, Wally lay there, his body limp and trembling. Gardevoir pulled out slowly, a smug look on his face as he watched the trainer's body react to the loss of his cock. "Garde... De~ (Good girl, Wally-Walrus... You did so well~)" he praised, his voice sticky sweet. Wally could feel the wetness on his belly, the stickiness of his cum soaking into the front of his dress.

The pokémon leaned over him, his hand stroking Wally's cheek gently. "Gar, de? (I think I've made my point, don't you?)" he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Devoir, de? (You know what it's like to be misunderstood now, don't you?)"

Wally nodded weakly, his cheek still pressed against the cool pillow. "Y-yes..." he managed to whisper, his voice hoarse from his earlier cries. He didn't know if he was more relieved or disappointed by the prospect of things returning to normal. The Pokeball's influence had created a whirlwind of emotions and sensations inside him, and he wasn't sure he wanted them to end just yet.

"De, (Good,)" Gardevoir said, his tone softer now, his hand gentle as it continued to caress Wally's face. "Garde~... Voir, (Now, tell Daddy how much you enjoyed that~... Then we can put things back to normal,)" He leaned in closer, his breath hot on Wally's neck.

Wally's heart was still racing, his body still singing with the aftershocks of pleasure. He took a deep, shaky breath, his cheek pressed against the cool pillow. "I-I don't... I don't want it to end yet..." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gardevoir's eyes went wide with shock, his hand pausing in its gentle stroking of Wally's cheek. He hadn't expected that response, not from his shy, embarrassed trainer. But as the words sank in, a slow smile spread across his lips. "De, de~? (Oh, really~?)" he said, his voice a warm caress. "Voir, hmm? (Then maybe we'll have to find a way to keep this little arrangement going for a bit longer, hmm?)"

Wally felt a thrill run through him at Gardevoir's words, his body reacting in ways he didn't understand. He nodded, his voice still a trembling whisper. "Y-yes, Daddy..." The words slipped out again, and this time, they felt right.

Surely, there wouldn't be any consequences to being a girl a little longer, right?

3 Months later

The door to the apartment clicked open, and Willow stepped inside, her high-heeled boots echoing in the hallway. Gardevoir looked up from the kitchen, his smile warm and welcoming. "Gar, de, (Welcome home, my dear,)" he said, using the sweet tone that never failed to make Willow's cheeks flush.

"Hi, Daddy!" she replied happily, tossing aside her backpack and kicking off her shoes. The apartment was a cozy place, a stark contrast to the starkness of the hotel room from that fateful day. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could indulge in their newfound roles without fear of judgment or interruption. The walls were adorned with frilly curtains that matched the soft, velvety couch where she often sat, sipping tea and watching TV while Gardevoir prepared their meals. The scent of vanilla and lavender filled the air, a combination that she had grown to adore, as it was always present when she was at her most vulnerable.

Her transformation into Willow had been a gradual one, with each day bringing a new level of femininity that she never knew she desired. Her hair had grown longer, cascading in soft green waves down her back, and her wardrobe was now exclusively filled with dresses and skirts that hugged her figure. It was impossible to physically transform her, but her mind had long been shaped by Gardevoir's dominance. She'd come to love her role as the pokémon's obedient 'darling,' eagerly pleasing him in any way she could.

Walking into the living room, Willow noticed the bouquet of roses on the table, a silent testament to Gardevoir's affection. She blushed, feeling the warmth spread through her body as she approached him. He was, at the moment, standing at the stove, seemingly preparing to make dinner. "Daddy, you bought me flowers again," she cooed, standing on her tippy-toes to kiss his cheek.

Gardevoir turned, a spatula in hand, and smiled warmly at her. "De. Garde, (Of course, darling. You deserve all the pretty things in the world,)" he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Willow's heart skipped a beat at the gesture, her cheeks growing hotter. She'd come to crave his attention, his praise, his gentle dominance. It was a strange feeling, but she couldn't deny that it brought her a sense of contentment that she'd never experienced before.

"Devoir, de... Gar. De~ (Now, I was planning on making dinner, but looking at you... Well, I just can't help myself. Come with me, darling~)" Gardevoir said, putting down the spatula- Dinner could wait- and taking her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom. Willow followed obediently, her mind racing with what the evening had in store for her.

The bedroom was a reflection of their new dynamic, with a large four-poster bed that Willow had picked out, adorned with soft, lacy sheets. Gardevoir had a penchant for frills and lace, something Willow had grown quite accustomed to over the past few months. She climbed onto the bed, her legs shaking slightly with anticipation. She knew what was going to happen next, and she was eager for it.

The door to the bedroom shut behind Gardevoir, the sound of the lock clicking into place sending a shiver down Willow's spine. She felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of another night with her Daddy, her heart racing just as fast every time...

To everyone else, it seemed as though Wally had simply vanished off the face of the earth, not a trace of him to be found anywhere- And nobody, not even his close friends, seemed to relate the chipper, cheerful girl named 'Willow' to him beyond a passing resemblance.

But as Willow, Wally had never felt more alive. The humiliation and embarrassment of his initial transformation had given way to something else entirely, something that was at once thrilling and terrifying. He had embraced his new role, his mind fully entwined with Gardevoir's desires, his thoughts a whirlwind of submission and need.

Their days were filled with a routine that was both domestic and erotic. Willow would wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking so that she could get ready for the day, applying makeup with shaking hands, trying to get it just right to satisfy her Daddy's high standards. Gardevoir had a keen eye for detail, often correcting her with gentle suggestions that she took to heart. They'd spend the mornings in the apartment, Gardevoir guiding her through various exercises to keep her fit and flexible, much to her protest and his amusement. It was all in good fun, though, as she knew it only served to make her more appealing to him.

In the afternoons, they'd often go out, with Willow dressed in the most feminine and revealing outfits Gardevoir could find. He loved watching the reactions of the people on the street, the way they'd look at her with a mix of desire and confusion. She'd blush and look away, playing the part of the shy girl that she'd become so good at. But deep down, she enjoyed the attention, the way it made her feel desired. They'd go shopping, with Willow trying on clothes that made her feel like a doll, a plaything for Gardevoir's amusement. And she'd always come home with a new set of lingerie, something to wear for him when they played their private games.

But in the evenings? Oh, things were quite different. Gardevoir's patience and care would give way to something darker, something primal. He'd come home from his 'job', whatever it was- He'd never explained- and treat Willow not with the love and mischief of the rest of the day, instead he'd look at her with hunger in his eyes. Willow had come to recognize that look, it was the look that meant she'd be getting no rest that night. And she'd get dressed in her sluttiest lingerie, the kind that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and wait for him on the bed.

And, so, life continued on, with Willow and Gardevoir living together, a girl and her 'Daddy,' in a world that had moved on without knowing the truth of their existence. Willow had grown quite adept at her new life, her days filled with a mix of domestic bliss and a burgeoning sense of eroticism that she never knew existed. She'd become quite the little homemaker, taking care of the apartment while Gardevoir was out, making sure everything was perfect for when he returned home. She'd clean and cook, her movements delicate and precise, just as he'd taught her. And when he did come back, she'd be waiting, eager for his approval, eager for his touch.

Occasionally, her mind would wander back to the past. Her new life was so amazing... Why had she ever wanted to be a trainer? Or a boy, for that matter? Being a girl was so much better! Her Daddy loved her so much, and she loved pleasing him. The way he'd look at her when she served him dinner, the way his eyes would rove over her body when she walked into the room... It was intoxicating.

So, no. Wally never did make a miraculous return... But Willow? She flourished.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Chapter Text

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a trail of fiery reds and oranges that danced upon the waves. The vast sea stretched out in all directions, and May, a young and adventurous soul, sat huddled in the corner of a small lifeboat drifting upon the water, her thoughts racing as the salty spray stung her face. The wind tugged at her thin, brown hair, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around her knees in a futile attempt to warm herself.

Her eyes searched the horizon, desperately seeking any sign of rescue, but she knew it was a long shot. The storm had taken her by surprise, ripping her from the safety of the cruise ship and tossing her into this watery abyss. She felt utterly alone and vulnerable, with nothing but a backpack that was rapidly running out of snacks and water... And a few empty Pokeballs, but those weren't all that useful unless she managed to somehow get close enough to a Pokemon to catch it.

The boat rocked gently, and she gripped the edge tighter, her heart racing every time a particularly large wave slapped against the side. It was getting darker, and she knew that soon she'd have to deal with the cold, the fear, and the darkness. May took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, when she heard a splash. She whipped around, expecting to see a common Magikarp or Wingull, but instead her eyes fell upon a set of fierce, red eyes peering up at her from the water.

The Feraligatr's powerful tail- because that's what it was, May easily recognize those blue scales and red spikes- propelled it closer to the boat, and she realized with a jolt of panic that she had no idea how to handle this situation. As he surfaced, he stared at her with an intensity that made her skin crawl, and she desperately dared to hope that he was just curious.

But hope quickly turned to dread when the Feraligatr's mouth opened, and she saw the gleaming white of his teeth. He lunged at the boat and grabbed onto the side, his muscular arms pulling himself up. May screamed and stumbled back, fumbling in her backpack for anything to defend herself with. Her hand closed around a Pokeball, her heart racing as she threw it in a desperate arc.

To her astonishment, the Feraligatr caught it in his jaws, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he held it up in victory. He spit it back out into his clawed hand, and she realized with horror that she'd just handed him a tool to potentially use against her. His eyes gleamed with something that was definitely not curiosity as he studied the Pokeball, and she knew she had to act fast.

"W-wait!" May called, raising her hands up in front of her in a pacifying gesture, desperately hoping that the beast before her wasn't about to turn her into a midnight snack. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have thrown that at you, I panicked, you're terrifying, please don't hurt me!"

The Feraligatr tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied the trembling girl before him. He took a step closer, his clawed feet thumping heavily on the lifeboat's floor, and May could feel the wood groaning under his weight. His tongue flicked out, tasting the air around her, and she cringed at the thought of what he might be thinking.

"You're... you're not going to eat me, are you?" she asked, her voice quivering. The Feraligatr chuckled, a low, guttural sound that seemed to come from the depths of his throat. May felt herself un-tense, and she let out a long sigh of relief. He wasn't going to eat her- thank Arceus. But then... What did he want from her?

He dropped the Pokeball back onto the floor of the boat, his grin growing wider as he stepped closer to May. She could see the intricate pattern of his teeth now, and she couldn't help but wonder what they could do. "Why are you smiling like that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The Feraligatr's answer was a deep, rumbling chuckle. He sat down heavily on the opposite side of the boat, his tail thumping against the wood. "Fer, (I'm smiling,)" he said, his voice a gravelly growl, "Aligatr. (because I've caught something more interesting than food.)"

May blinked as she watched the Feraligatr 'speak.' He was making noises that resembled his name, but whatever words he was trying to say went right past her, his 'language' being completely unknown to her.

The Feraligatr cocked his head, clearly frustrated at her lack of understanding. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and wet on her face, and she cringed at the smell of fish and sea water. His teeth clacked together as he tried again, his eyes never leaving hers, and May felt a strange, unwelcome tingle run down her spine. Was he... trying to communicate with her?

He pointed to his crotch with a clawed hand, and May's eyes followed the gesture, widening as she saw something thick and pink poking out from the folds of his blue scales. Oh no. Oh no no no. She understood now, and she desperately wished she didn't. He was asking- no, demanding- something from her, and it was definitely not what she'd been expecting from a wild Pokemon.

The Feraligatr's tail swished impatiently as he made a gesture that was unmistakable: He wanted her to go down on him. May's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fear. This wasn't in any of the Training Manuals! What was she supposed to do!?

With a deep growl, the Feraligatr leaned in closer, his pink member pulsing slightly as he made the gesture again. The smell of his arousal filled the small space, thick and musky, making her stomach churn. She had no choice. If she didn't do what he wanted, she didn't know what would happen.

Tentatively, May kneeled down in front of the Feraligatr and reached out, her hand shaking, and touched the base of his cock. It was hot and smooth, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. The Feraligatr's eyes lit up with excitement, and he nodded his head, making a series of grunts that she could only assume were words of encouragement.

The tip of his cock was leaking a clear, viscous fluid, and she could see the veins pulsing with his excitement. She took a deep breath and leaned in, her heart hammering in her chest. The salty taste of the sea was replaced with something muskier, something that made her stomach flip. She took the head of his cock into her mouth, feeling it stretch her lips wide, and he let out a deep, contented sigh.

May had never done this before, not even with a human- she was far too young to have ever been in this situation- but she figured it couldn't be all that complicated, right? She began to bob her head, her eyes watering as she took more of him in. The Feraligatr's tail swished back and forth, thumping against the side of the boat in time with her movements. His clawed hand reached out to her, stroking her hair, and she realized that despite his gruff exterior, he was being surprisingly gentle with her.

He made a series of approving sounds, and she took that as a sign to keep going. May focused on the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, trying to ignore the taste and the smell. It was thick and hot, and she had to be careful not to let it go down too far or she'd gag. He was definitely enjoying it, she could tell by the way his body was tensing and his grunts grew louder.

The Feraligatr's hand on her hair grew more insistent, guiding her movements, and she could feel his grip tightening slightly. She took that as a sign that she was doing a good job, and she picked up the pace, her cheeks hollowing out as she took him deeper. His tail swished faster now, and she could feel the boat rocking more violently. She had to hold on to the side to keep herself from falling over, her mouth and jaw growing sore.

But May was a fast learner, and she soon found a rhythm that seemed to satisfy the Feraligatr. His clawed hand stroked her hair more gently, his grunts turning into low moans of pleasure. She felt a strange mix of fear and excitement, her own body responding in ways she didn't quite understand. Her heart was racing, and her breaths were shallow, but she kept going, driven by a mix of terror, desperation, and the strange new sensations flooding her body.

The Feraligatr's tail slammed into the side of the boat, knocking over a few items and sending a spray of water over the side. His eyes were half-closed in ecstasy, and May knew that she had to keep going, had to give him what he wanted. She took more of him into her mouth, her throat working around his thick shaft, her cheeks bulging with the effort.

His hands moved from her hair to her shoulders, gripping her tightly, urging her closer. She could feel the power in his body, the strength that could easily overwhelm her. But there was something else, something that made her feel... safe. Despite his size and his demands, she knew he wasn't going to hurt her, not like this.

The Feraligatr leaned back slightly, his eyes locked on hers as she worked her mouth over him. His voice grew louder, the noises he was making more urgent, and she realized with a start that he was talking to her. She couldn't understand the words, they were all jumbles of 'Fer' and 'Aligatr' and grunts and growls, but she knew he was saying something important. She nodded, hoping that was the right response, and he seemed to sigh in relief before his hips began to thrust gently, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth.

May's eyes watered as she took him, her throat tightening around his girth. She could feel his muscles tightening, his body readying itself for release, and she braced herself for whatever was about to happen. And then, with a roar that shook the very air, he came.

The Feraligatr's seed shot into her mouth, filling it with a salty warmth that she hadn't been expecting. She choked, trying to swallow it all, not wanting to disappoint this creature who had taken her in his grasp. He continued to grunt and moan, his tail slamming against the boat in time with his spurts of cum. May's eyes watered more, not just from the sensation but from the sheer force of his climax.

Finally, he stilled, his tail dropping with a heavy thump. He looked down at her, his eyes glazed with pleasure, and she could feel his cock pulsing in her mouth as the last drops of his release spilled out. She sat back on her heels, her throat sore but her fear dissipating slightly. He had taken his pleasure from her, and she had given it without question.

Feraligatr spoke again, his words a mix of grunts and growls, but this time, she heard something else in his voice: satisfaction. He leaned forward and gently pried her mouth away from his cock, which was now beginning to soften. May coughed, swiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing. What now?

Without warning, the Feraligatr picked up the Pokeball she had offered earlier, his grin never leaving his face. He held it out to her, the same gesture she had made when she threw it at him in desperation. He tapped the button, and with a flash of red light, she found herself engulfed by the same force that had captured so many Pokémon in her journey.

May barely had the chance to scream before the light overcame her and pulled her into the Pokeball-

-And then everything went dark.

-

"Ungh..."

May awoke with a start, her vision swimming as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Gone was the cramped, salty confines of the lifeboat, replaced by a cove of unparalleled beauty. The walls of the cave were a canvas of vibrant blues and greens, lit by a soft, bioluminescent glow that danced across the water's surface. The floor was a mix of velvety sand and smooth rocks, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of tropical blooms.

Her eyes searched the area, and she found the Feraligatr watching her from a distance, his tail swishing gently in the water. He was speaking again, his deep, rumbling voice echoing off the cavern walls, but she couldn't make out a single word. Her heart raced as she sat up, her head throbbing. Had she dreamt the entire encounter? No, she could still taste the saltiness of his cum in her mouth, feel the ache in her throat from his thick cock.

The Feraligatr approached her, his movements surprisingly graceful for his size. He pointed to the side of the cave, where May saw a pile of branches and a few scattered rocks that looked suspiciously like they could form a fire pit. And beyond that, she spied something even more unexpected- a bed. It wasn't the plush mattress she was used to at home, but rather a makeshift affair of soft leaves and furs, but it was clearly a place of rest.

Her eyes widened as the reality set in- she was in his den, and she had no idea what he planned to do with her now. She tried to stand, but her legs felt like jelly, and she collapsed back onto the sand with a whimper. The Feraligatr cocked his head, watching her with a mix of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.

He stepped closer, his voice still a series of grunts and growls, but she could feel his concern. He nudged her gently with his snout, and she flinched, her heart racing even faster. His breath was hot on her face, and she could feel the power in his muscles as he leaned over her.

The Feraligatr reached out with his clawed hand, holding out a piece of fruit that looked suspiciously like a Pecha Berry. May's stomach growled, and she reached for it, her hand trembling. But as soon as her fingertips grazed the cool, smooth skin of the berry, he pulled it away, chuckling in his strange language.

He pointed back to his now fully erect cock, his tail thumping the ground impatiently. It was clear what he wanted: more. The fear from before had transformed into something... else. Something that made her heart race and her cheeks burn. She looked into his eyes and saw the hunger there, the need, and she found herself feeling a strange compulsion to give him what he wanted.

With trembling hands, May reached for the Feraligatr's cock again. It was wet from her saliva and his own precum, and she felt a twinge of something... excitement? as she wrapped her hand around his shaft. He let out a contented groan, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as she began to stroke him. It was weird, doing this to a Pokémon, but his cock was surprisingly responsive under her touch, growing even larger as she worked her hand up and down.

The Feraligatr leaned back slightly, his tail swishing in the water as he watched her, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. May felt her own breath quicken as she grew more confident in her movements, her grip tightening around him. May had never seen a human penis before, but she imagined that there was no way they could possibly be as large or as intimidating as the one in her hands.

With each stroke, the Feraligatr's hips would buck slightly, and he'd make a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't believe she was doing this, that she was giving a wild Pokémon a handjob in the middle of his hidden den, but she was in his world now, and she had to play by his rules.

May's eyes remained locked on his, watching the pleasure build in those fiery red orbs as she worked him with both hands. The head of his cock was now a deep shade of purple, the veins pulsing with every beat of his heart. His precum coated her palms, making her stomach churn and her own arousal grow.

Suddenly, he roared, and hot, sticky cum shot from his cock, spattering her face and chest. She yelped, trying to dodge the onslaught, but there was no escaping it. His seed covered her, the warmth of it stark against her cool skin. She'd never felt anything like this before, and she wasn't quite sure how to react. The Feraligatr chuckled at her shock, his cock still twitching in her grip.

He took the piece of Pecha Berry from his other hand and held it out to her, his expression expectant. May took it tentatively, her heart racing. She wiped the cum from her face with the back of her hand, feeling the sticky residue on her skin. She bit into the fruit, the tart sweetness exploding in her mouth. It was surprisingly refreshing, and she realized how hungry she was.

The Feraligatr watched her eat, his eyes never leaving hers. She took another bite, feeling the juices run down her chin. He made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle and handed her another piece of fruit, this one a bit bigger. It was an Oran Berry- a common berry used by many Pokémon trainers. She took it gratefully, feeling her energy return as she chewed.

Once she'd finished eating, the Feraligatr stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached out a clawed hand and gently stroked her hair, his touch surprisingly tender. It was as if he was petting her, like a master would pet a beloved Pokémon. May's heart raced as she felt his claws lightly graze her scalp, sending tingles down her spine. She leaned into the touch, feeling a strange sense of comfort from this creature she'd only just met.

His hand moved down to her shoulder, his claws retracting slightly so as not to cut her. The rough pads of his fingers brushed against her bare skin, and she shivered. The Feraligatr's touch grew bolder, moving down her arm and then back up to cup her cheek. It was a gesture she'd seen trainers use countless times, but to have it done to her by a wild Pokémon... it was unsettling, yet oddly comforting.

With a final, lingering stroke of her cheek, the Feraligatr turned and disappeared into the water, his powerful tail creating waves that splashed against the shore. May watched him go, her eyes wide with confusion. She was alone in his den, unsure of what to do next. The fire pit caught her eye again, and she realized that she was cold and tired. The bed of leaves and furs looked more inviting than she cared to admit.

Shaking off her unease, May stood up, her legs wobbly but holding her weight. She reached for the hem of her shirt, peeling it off over her head. The salty ocean air was cool against her skin, making her nipples pebble. Her shorts and underwear followed, leaving her naked before the cave. She stepped into the water, the waves lapping gently at her ankles.

The water was surprisingly warm, and she found that the gentle current washed away the stickiness from her face and body. She dipped deeper, feeling the sea embrace her as she let the waves cleanse her of the Feraligatr's cum. The sensation was strange but oddly comforting, as if the ocean itself was welcoming her to this new, alien world she'd been thrown into.

As she emerged from the water, May felt a pang of modesty, but there was no one to see her nakedness except herself... And Feraligatr, when he got back. She approached the makeshift bed, her eyes lingering on the plush pile of leaves and furs. She had no idea where the Feraligatr had gone, but she was grateful for the brief respite.

The bed was surprisingly soft, the furs enveloping her cold, wet body with a gentle warmth that seemed to seep into her bones. She laid down, feeling the comfort of the natural materials against her skin. The scent of the leaves and the faint musk of the Feraligatr was oddly soothing, and she found herself drifting off to sleep, her mind racing with questions and confusion about her current predicament...

-

...Only to wake up once more, but this time to the feeling of something warm and wet on her skin. She jolts upright to find Feraligatr standing over her, his tongue lapping gently at her shoulder, his eyes gleaming with something akin to excitement. She gasps, a hand flying to cover her breasts, the other to protect her modesty.

The Feraligatr chuckles, his deep voice rumbling through the cave. "Fer, Fer, Aligatr," he says, his voice softer this time, almost affectionate. He seems to understand her discomfort and takes a step back, his cock once again fully erect and bobbing in the air. May can't help but stare, feeling a mix of fear and fascination.

He points to her, then to himself, and then makes a gesture that seems to indicate that he wants her to come closer. May's heart hammers in her chest as she tentatively approaches him, the sand cool between her toes. His tail swishes behind him, as it tended to do, and she wonders if it's a sign of his excitement or just a random habit.

When she's within arm's length, the Feraligatr reaches out and traces the line of her collarbone with a clawed finger, his touch surprisingly gentle. He seems fascinated by her human form, his eyes flicking over her curves and the softness of her skin. His gaze lingers on her small, perky breasts, and she can't help but feel a strange sense of vulnerability.

He leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over her chest, making her nipples peak even further. He sniffs at her, his tongue darting out to taste the salty water droplets still clinging to her skin. May's breath hitches, her body reacting in ways she never thought possible. She tries to tell herself it's just fear, but the way her heart is racing suggests something more.

The Feraligatr's gaze drifts down her body, and May can't help but feel a strange thrill as he seems to appreciate every inch of her. His eyes linger on her navel, the soft curve of her belly, and then lower still, to the juncture of her thighs. She's never felt so exposed, so... vulnerable. And yet, she can't deny the way her body responds to his scrutiny, her legs parting slightly of their own accord.

He makes a curious noise, reaching out to touch her again. This time, his hand lands on her hip, his claws retracted so as not to harm her. He runs his thumb over the curve of her waist, and she feels a shiver of pleasure. The sensation is unexpected, and she bites her lip to keep from gasping. She's not sure if she should be feeling this way about a Pokémon, but she can't help it.

The Feraligatr's gaze lingers on her breasts, and she can feel the heat of his stare like a brand. His hand moves upward, cupping one gently, his thumb flicking over the tight bud of her nipple. It sends a jolt through her body, and she can't help but arch into the touch. His other hand joins, both now playing with her small but sensitive breasts, weighing them in his palms. He seems to enjoy the way they bounce with every squeeze, his eyes alight with curiosity.

May's breath comes in shallow pants as he continues, his claws never piercing her skin but always a present reminder of his power. He rolls her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending waves of sensation through her body that she can't quite categorize as pain or pleasure. She looks down to see her own pink flesh against his blue-green scales, the contrast stark and alien, yet somehow erotic. His touch is firm, almost possessive, and she can feel the beginnings of an ache low in her belly.

The Feraligatr leans down, his mouth watering as he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. May's back arches involuntarily, a soft moan escaping her lips. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and she feels a flash of fear, but he seems to understand that she's far more fragile than he is, never biting down. Instead, he laves her with his tongue, swirling it around the peak until she's panting and her legs are trembling.

Her hand comes up to cradle the back of his head, not pushing him away but rather guiding him, showing him what feels good. It's a strange, wordless communication, but it seems to work. He takes her cue, switching to her other nipple, giving it the same attentive treatment. May's breathing grows ragged, her chest heaving as he sucks and licks, his rough tongue sending shockwaves through her body.

But just when she thinks she can't take it anymore, Feraligatr pulls away, his tongue swiping one last time across her sensitive flesh before he stops. He looks up at her, his expression unreadable, and she can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He's toying with her, she realizes, drawing out the anticipation, building the tension.

And then, without warning, he squeezes her breasts in his powerful hands, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through her body. His grip is firm, his claws never piercing her skin but applying just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp. The sensation is intense, and she feels her knees go weak. He seems to enjoy the effect he's having on her, his eyes never leaving hers as he continues to knead and massage her breasts.

May's mind is a whirl of confusion and excitement as she feels her body responding to his touch. The Feraligatr's tail swishes more rapidly in the water, splashing droplets onto the sand as he grows more excited. She can't believe she's letting this happen, but she's powerless to stop it. Her body feels alive in a way it never has before, and she can't deny the thrill of it all.

With a sudden jolt of pleasure, May feels her body betray her, her back arching as a soft moan escapes her lips. The Feraligatr's eyes light up at the sound, his grip on her breasts tightening slightly. His claws dig into her flesh, not enough to break the skin but enough to remind her of his strength.

Finally, he releases her, stepping away with a smug look on his face. May can't help but stare at him, her body still singing from his touch, as he turns back towards the water. She feels a mix of relief and disappointment, not quite sure what she wants from him anymore. He wades into the sea, the waves parting around his powerful form, and then, with a flick of his tail, he's gone, disappearing beneath the surface.

Alone again, May falls back onto the makeshift bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She tries to process what's happening, her mind racing with the implications of her new reality. Was she a prisoner? A pet? Or was there something else at play here? Her hand unconsciously moves to her nipple, feeling the lingering sensitivity from the Feraligatr's attentions.

What... What was going on? What was all of this?

-

May's stomach growled loudly enough to wake May from the nap she'd fallen into after the intense encounter with the Feraligatr. She sat up, realizing that she hadn't eaten anything substantial since before the storm had ravaged her boat. The Pecha and Oran Berries had been a welcome reprieve, but they were hardly a meal.

Her eyes scanned the cave, searching for anything that might resemble food. The sight of the fruit they'd shared brought a strange mix of emotions to the surface- fear, confusion, and an unexpected comfort. Her stomach growled again, reminding her that she was indeed in a predicament, and that her survival was now tied to this creature's whims.

And, speak of the devil, she heard the splash of water as Feraligatr re-emerged from the ocean. His eyes found hers immediately, a knowing smirk playing across his features as if he'd heard the protests of her empty stomach. He waded out of the water, his powerful tail propelling him onto the shore, and in his arms was a collection of fruit and fish.

He dropped the bounty at her feet and spoke in his gruff language, the words unintelligible but the meaning clear. May's eyes widened as she stared at the food. It was more than she'd ever had in one go in the wild, and she was torn between the humiliation of being offered food like a pet and the primal urge to eat.

Feraligatr stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and challenge. He reached down and grabbed a piece of fruit, holding it far out of her reach. "Fer... Aligatr..." he grunted, his voice deep and expectant.

May's heart skipped a beat as she realized what he was implying. He wanted more from her than just a blowjob or a taste of her breasts. He wanted... more. Her mind raced, trying to come to terms with what was happening. This was a Pokémon, a creature she'd spent her life training and battling alongside, not one she'd ever thought to have... relations with. But here she was, naked and vulnerable, with a cock the size of her forearm staring her down.

Her stomach rumbled again, and she knew that she couldn't refuse. Not if she wanted to eat. So, her whole body trembling, she nodded, and pulled herself out of the bed, feeling the coolness of the sand under her bare feet.

Feraligatr watched her with a mix of hunger and triumph in his eyes as she approached him. He dropped the fruit and took her hand, pulling her closer. May felt the heat of his body against her, the scales surprisingly cool and smooth against her skin. She could feel his cock pressing against her thigh, still erect and insistent.

With surprising gentleness, he sat down, his tail curling around her legs to keep her in place. He tugged her closer until she was straddling him, her knees bent and her butt resting on his firm, scaled thighs. The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever felt before, a mix of fear and arousal that had her breath catching in her throat.

Feraligatr picked May up by the hips, his powerful arms lifting her with ease. She gasped, her hands instinctively placing themselves on his shoulders. His scales were cool and slick against her skin, sending a thrill through her that she couldn't quite explain.

With a grunt, he pushed her down onto his erect cock. May's eyes widened in shock as she felt the thick, blunt head of his dick press against her entrance. The sensation was overwhelming, and she tried to resist, but his strength was unyielding. He pushed, and she felt herself stretching around him, the pain mingling with an intense, burning heat that made her toes curl.

The Feraligatr held her hips firmly, guiding her down with a gentle but insistent pressure. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as he filled her completely, his cock sliding in deeper than she'd ever imagined possible. Her mind reeled at the realization that she was being taken by a Pokémon, but her body had other ideas.

May's inner muscles clenched around him, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar girth. His cock felt like it was stretching her to her limits, the sensation a mix of pain and something... else. Something that had her pussy quivering and her clit pulsing with a need she couldn't ignore. She tried to breathe through the discomfort, her eyes squeezed shut as he held her there, his cock buried to the hilt.

Feraligatr chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through her body. He knew she was inexperienced, a virgin to the ways of this kind of coupling. He began to rock her hips, moving her up and down his length, his claws digging gently into her flesh as he held her in place. May's eyes shot open, the sensation of being used so blatantly sending a bolt of arousal straight to her core.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body moving with his as he began to fuck her in earnest. Each thrust was deep and powerful, his cock filling her up in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She could feel her juices mixing with his precum, creating a slick friction that made her body sing with pleasure.

May's eyes squeezed shut as she clung to him, her nails digging into the tough skin of his shoulders. The feeling of his scales against her soft flesh was strangely erotic, and she couldn't help but grind down onto him, taking him in deeper with each stroke. He groaned, his breath hot against her neck as he held her in place, his hips bucking up to meet her.

The grip his clawed hands had on her hips was unyielding, his strength so immense that it was clear she had no say in the matter. He used her, pushing her down onto his thick cock with a force that was both painful and thrilling. May clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as if she could somehow hold onto any semblance of control in this situation. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into the firm muscles of his lower back.

Her breath was hot against his ear, a mix of gasps and whimpers that seemed to spur him on. He took her with a ferocity that belied his gentle nature, his tail swishing in the sand with every powerful thrust. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the cave, echoing off the walls in a cacophony of desire and dominance.

May's legs tightened around his waist as he pushed her down onto his cock, her pussy clenching around him like a wet vice. He felt her shiver, her nails digging into his scales, and he knew she was close. He picked up the pace, his movements more urgent as he drove into her over and over again. May's cries grew louder, her body bucking against his, meeting each thrust with a desperation she didn't understand. The sensation was too much, too intense, and she could feel herself approaching the edge of something she'd never experienced before.

With a roar that echoed through the cave, Feraligatr's hips snapped upward, burying his cock to the hilt in her quivering pussy. She felt his hot cum spurt inside of her, filling her up in thick, heavy ropes. The sensation was overwhelming, and she threw her head back, her own climax hitting her like a tidal wave. Her orgasm was unlike anything she'd ever felt, her entire body tightening as waves of pleasure washed over her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

As her climax subsided, May slumped against him, her body slick with sweat and his seed. His cock remained hard, pulsing within her, and she felt the sticky warmth of his cum leaking out around his shaft. He held her there for a moment, his chest heaving with each breath, before slowly pulling her off of him with a wet pop that made her wince.

Feraligatr's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of fear or disgust. Instead, he saw a mix of shock and something else... something that looked suspiciously like satisfaction. He grunted, seemingly pleased with himself, and laid her gently onto the bed of furs and leaves.

May felt the aftershocks of her orgasm rippling through her body as she stared up at the cave's ceiling. The fire cast flickering shadows, dancing across the wetness that coated her chest and belly. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the salty tang of the sea and the faint scent of the fruit they'd shared earlier.

Feraligatr pulled out of her with a wet sound, his cock still pulsing with the last of his release. He looked down at her with an expression that was unmistakably proud, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. She felt his hot cum spilling out of her, trickling down her thighs, and she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

Her body was still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and she was surprised at how... good it had felt. It was wrong, she knew that. But she couldn't deny the intense pleasure that had just rocked her to her very core.

Feraligatr climbed off the bed, his cock still erect and glistening with their combined juices. He strutted over to the water, his muscular body moving with the grace of a predator. May watched him go, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Was she his captive? His... mate?

The fire crackled, and the sound of the waves outside grew louder. May's thoughts swirled around in her head like the storm that had brought her here. She'd never felt so alive, so... claimed. It was wrong, she knew, but she couldn't ignore the way her body responded to him.

May sighed, and flopped across the bed. She'd just... Have to deal with what came. Hopefully, Feraligatr would eventually get bored of her, and let her go... Or maybe she could convince him to bring her back to shore. Surely, he didn't intend to just... Keep her. Right? Right.

...Right?

-

Predictably, May was declared lost at sea when, after the wreck, she was never found. Nobody thought to search under the water, or explore any caves- Why would she ever end up in one of those?

May, on the other hand, was learning to adapt to her new life with Feraligatr. The days grew into weeks, and the weeks into months. Her initial fear had long since been replaced by a begrudging respect for the creature that had claimed her so thoroughly. She learned to read his moods, his movements, his language of grunts and roars, and even the subtle shifts in his gaze.

The two of them had settled into a rhythm, of sorts. Feraligatr had taken it upon himself to provide for May, bringing her food from his daily hunts and ensuring she remained clean and well-cared for. In return, she'd become something of an obedient servant, tending to his needs, which often involved pleasuring him in increasingly intimate ways.

May ended up never leaving the cave. She didn't have any need to, after all- She had everything she needed with Feraligatr, so what would be the point of returning to the human world?

Chapter Text

I'M BACK!

It's been a bit! To those of you who haven't been here in a while- Welcome back! To those of you who haven't been here at all- Welcome!

I want to quickly thank you all for all the prompts you've sent in in the past, and all you may send in the future- However, I also want to say something else.

Previously, I overwhelmed myself by promising to do too many prompts! From now on, I won't be replying to any prompts to tell you whether or not I'll be doing them. I will reply once I've made a definitive choice to say no, though.

In addition, I've decided I want to accept fewer prompts, I.E. only ones that focus primarily on the role-reversal aspect of this collection. When sending in your prompts, please keep this in mind.

Thanks for understanding!