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Fenton had been told that being a trainer was sometimes like being a parent. You had to treat your Pokémon well, help them grow right and work them through their problems, and be the one to teach them what they should and shouldn't do, especially when interacting with humans - many Pokémon were not inherently skilled at understanding and fitting in to human society. It was always meant to be a partnership, but a trainer had to know when to take that guiding role.

In Fenton's case, he was starting to feel more like a literal parent of two constantly bickering siblings.

The frustration was evident on his face as he knelt in front of his two Pokémon, a Charmander named Roil and a Treecko named Rasher. The two were scuffed up and dirty, having just been scrapping hard before being separated by their trainer. Both of them were still glaring and growling at each other, shooting looks while trying to put up the pretense of being attentive to Fenton. "Guys...you seriously need to stop this. I've told you over and over again I don't want you two fighting each other! You're going to wipe yourselves out and leave me with nothing to fight against wild Pokémon, and I don't want to have to explain to other trainers that I can't battle them because my Pokémon knocked each other out."

"He started it," hissed Rasher.

"In a Grumpig's eye I did!" Roil snapped back.

"I don't CARE who started it!" Fenton exclaimed before Rasher could return fire. "Look, you guys, if you can't behave, then you're going to have to go back into the Poké Balls. It's not what I want to do, but I can't have you destroying each other, and if it's the only way I can keep you two from these messes, then it's the only way. Don't push me into that, okay? I'll know if you're trying to fight away from me, I'll see it on you, you aren't exactly subtle."

"...Fine."

"Sure."

Non-committal responses at best, but Fenton didn't think he was going to get any better, so he just sighed, rose up, and continued walking, the two staying behind him but staying quiet enough. He hoped the threat of confinement would do the trick, even though he really didn't want to follow through with it. Rasher and Roil were good enough to him, they didn't tend to disobey him in battle despite their fierce natures and they were friendly towards him, if in their own rougher ways. But they just did NOT get along with each other. Fenton didn't know why, he'd talked with them separately and neither of them would admit to hating the other. They did keep insisting that they wanted to be seen as the stronger one, though, even while Fenton was pleading with them that he considered them equal, something which was true - Roil did have the edge in physical strength, but Rasher was faster and more skillful in battle, so as far as Fenton was concerned in the absence of a type consideration there was no real choice of one over the other. But somehow this didn't seem to get them to make peace.

I know some people would say you have to get rid of one...but I can't do that. I care too much about both of them, and I know that there's got to be some way to settle them down. Getting rid of one would just be quitting on them...and if I quit on one, what's stopping me from quitting on the other? Somehow I'll have to work on getting them to get along, if only I knew how...

---

The rest of the day passed in relative peace, apart from one other incident. At least it wasn't Roil and Rasher beating up on each other, but taking it out on a wild Pokémon wasn't much better - the two each trying to show each other up by escalating the next attack, until Fenton broke in to stop it when the wild Pokémon was thoroughly knocked out. Neither one seemed particularly satisfied. That earned them a bit of a lecture by the fire that evening, both apologizing to Fenton for being a little too far but not showing any better camaraderie with each other. The glares and snipes between the two as they all talked over dinner were clearly not what Fenton was hoping for, but at least none of it sustained for long. None of it was ever directed at Fenton - the two were always largely civil towards their trainer, even when heated towards their counterpart.

They had bedded down for the night after a while, letting the night take them off into slumber...at least, Fenton did, anyway. Rasher, on the other hand, waited until Fenton was asleep before slowly sitting up and sneaking away, with a glance at Rash to make sure the Charmander was down as well. Once he was a few steps away, he took up a brisker pace, his light steps unlikely to wake anyone up at that point. Only when he was enough away that he felt a fair bit of privacy did he push out his dick and start relieving himself against a tree, a quite sigh escaping him as the tension ebbed. At least one tension did, anyway...

Rasher was probably as frustrated as his trainer, but not quite for the same reasons. His frustrations were mostly with Roil, who he simply could not get along with, and the reason why was not exactly complicated: each of them wanted to be the better of the two, to prove themselves over the other and establish their place as #1 on the team of two. Roil drove the Treecko crazy, mainly because he seemed to think that his typing alone should put him above Rasher, that as a Fire-type he could never be inferior to a Grass-type. Rasher, of course, never bought this, and actually felt that his being able to fight Roil to a standstill most of the time was proof that HE was better, since he started from a less advantageous position. Obviously, these were incompatible worldviews, and the continual friction between them over who was the prime position on the team was the source of their major conflicts.

And would continue to be, because Rasher had no intent of backing down, and he was sure Roil didn't either, despite the threats of their trainer. He had no intention of stopping trying to prove himself the top dog until he'd done so. It wasn't out of anything terrible - Rasher didn't hate Roil, didn't think he was a bad person or a weak Pokémon. He was just certain he was stronger, and deserved to be the predominant one. And he wasn't sure how he would be able to prove this to Roil, but like hell he was going to stop.

Answers weren't going to come to him that night, though, so he didn't dwell on it - he wouldn't be able to sleep if he did. Instead, he focused on another bit of stress relief, as he moved from the site of his relief around the tree a bit, leaning forward against it as he rubbed and stroked at his cock, a bit of pre beading at the tip. His eyes were closed as he worked himself to full hardness, glad to have a moment to just relax and sow his seed; there weren't always good opportunities to do that, before bed had turned out to be his most opportune time, so he took advantage. After all, no one was going to bother him...

He didn't realize things were getting brighter until it was too late, and he felt strong arms grab him from behind, interrupting his wank session very unceremoniously. He tried to force his way out, but a hiss in his ear stopped him. "Better be gentle...wouldn't want to leave any marks on me, now, would you?" Of course it was Roil, and his warning stopped the Treecko cold - trying to force his way away from Roil might give the Charmander a perfect excuse to get him balled up for a while, allowing Roil free chances to strut his stuff and bond stronger with Fenton. How dare Roil try to use that against him! But that wasn't the worst thing that would be used against him, as he felt something hot and wet rubbing up against his tailhole, making him nearly cry out.

You FUCKER.

"Ooh, eager one, aren't you?" cackled Roil, his voice quiet but menacing as he secured a harder grip on the Treecko, making it far too hard for Rasher to get away without doing damage. Feeling the grassy lizard squirm ineffectually was incredibly satisfying to him. "I can feel you twitching just from that little touch...heh heh, you know, I've always wanted to put you in your place properly, arrogant little bitch who thinks he's better than me. If I didn't know it would give Fenton grief I would have thrashed you like you oughta have been. But, you know, there's a better way to do that...one that won't hurt you, at least not physically, so Fenton won't see anything to worry about."

"Don't you fucking dare," hissed Rasher, but the voice was tinged with a tremor. There was no way he was stopping Roil without getting way rougher...not unless he tried screaming for Fenton, and that was just inviting his trainer to watch it happen, which he absolutely couldn't do. Much as he didn't want to give Roil any chance to do what he was about to do, he knew he was going to let it happen.

"Oh, I dare. And I'm gonna enjoy it." That fiery cock was pressed against Rasher's pucker, threatening to enter. "And even better, YOU'RE gonna enjoy it. Because your grass-bitch body already knows what it wants. I know your type, they've got a nice little hot button inside of them, right at the perfect spot for the tip of a Charmander cock to poke directly." Roil grinned as he blew some hot breath on the back of the Treecko's neck, making him tense and shiver. Even though he hadn't fucked Rasher before, he'd gotten the low-down from someone else, and he was ready to put his plan into action. "You're gonna submit to me, bitch. You're gonna squirm, you're gonna moan, you're gonna cum, and you're gonna love every bit of it. And by the time I blow my hot wad in you, you're gonna know that you don't belong anywhere but under me."

Rasher was just keeping his jaw clenched, wishing he could give an emphatic response of denial to all of those. The problem was, he was just getting that hot tip against his asshole and he could already feel his body yearning to take it into him, and even that little bit felt better than he wanted to admit. He just had to do what he could, keep quiet and not give in to Roil, surely he could resist what the Charmander was threatening...but then Roil grabbed tight and drove in, and the moment the point of that poker mashed his hot button, he nearly screamed in raw, hot ecstasy - only a desperate effort to keep his mouth clamped shut saved him from alerting the whole forest to his rape. The squirt of precum from his own cock was so vigorous he thought he might have cum already...it was scant relief to see that wasn't true, because it only meant that his surrender was still impending.

"Ha, damn, I knew you'd love it, but you REALLY love it," taunted Roil, a giddy glee racing through him. Even though he could tell Rasher was trying to resist, the Treecko's ass was clinging to his cock, craving more of him. And more he was more than willing to provide, as he started to hump, turning up the heat literally and figuratively. Rasher had stopped fighting, more focused on trying to keep himself from surrender than trying to escape, though he was struggling already - squirming and moaning, two of the promised responses, were already happening. All of which was supremely satisfying to the Charmander, finally getting Rasher to submit to him properly like he felt the Treecko should have all this time.

Rasher was having very different feelings about the whole thing. His face was flushed, embarrassment and humiliation creeping in along with the unbidden pleasure. It felt too damn GOOD to hate, that was the worst part...his body, so well-attuned to sensitivity to heat, so keyed up by fire's touch of his delicate spots, already in a lustful mood, was betraying him thoroughly, giving him good feelings rather than the negativity that might have helped keep him from breaking. Instead, he was ceding to what Roil wanted to see and hear from him, and his leaking, throbbing dick was threatening to send him all the way into submission. He was doing his best to try to keep himself reined in and tense, but that only made the squeeze around that red-hot rod tighter, which amplified the sensations inside...there seemed to be no good way to escape the arousal and euphoria. His own throbbing shaft was a very obvious betrayal of how clearly his defenses were being pierced, leaking rather profusely and adding the sweet scent of his arousal to the steamy air.

And Roil knew that damn well - and he was exploiting it ruthlessly, jabbing the tip of his cock against that hot spot and making Rasher moan out, an undertone of frustration in that blissful sound that made it all the sweeter. With Rasher having ceased struggling, Roil made his next move, pitching forward and taking the Treecko down with him, getting Rasher down on all fours underneath him - at least, sort of, it was more on his elbows and knees, stretched out a bit under him. A position of blatant and undeniable conquest, and one that gave him much better leverage to drive in with the power the Charmander had, while maintaining his power hold over Rasher.

Rasher growled a bit as he was repositioned, but it was a rather feeble defiance, especially because it was accompanied by no real fight. No, he knew he wasn't stopping this, he couldn't force his body to reject that fabulous pleasure...he'd been entirely unprepared for Roil to take advantage of him sexually, the Charmander had never hinted at it before, and the ambush had left him pretty defenseless to everything...in reality, he didn't even mind the rape so much as his rather pitiful concession to it. He prided himself on being able to stand up to everything Roil could throw at him, but this was a pretty obvious and significant failure, giving up an edge to his rival that was no doubt going to reinforce the Charmander's belief in his superiority.

And all that, and there was still more to come...on another deep thrust that poked that pleasure point in Rasher, Roil felt it, a squeeze down on his cock from that tight Grass-type ass. "Holy shit, you're clenching around me? How bad do you want my cum?" he crowed, getting more hot breath on Rasher's neck and feeding into the Treecko's pleasure torment. "Damn, if I knew all it took was fuckin' ya I'da done it ages ago. Guess it's better late than never, eh? Bet you're regretting not getting some'a this earlier."

That was not really what Rasher was regretting...or at least he was trying to tell himself that. But it got to be too much, it felt too good and too intense, he couldn't hold on any longer. His body went slightly slack under Roil, and his mouth dropped over, the moans coming freely. In that moment, the fight was fully lost - not only did Rasher submit, he did so wantonly, giving in to the raw pleasure and confessing as obviously as he could without words that he wanted what Roil was giving him. Even as part of him continued to feel embarrassed about his defeat here, it barely came into play now - the overwhelming bliss meant more than anything, and he wanted more of it, no matter what the cost to his pride. His ass squeezed down harder on that invader, his legs spread more, his voice sang out pleasure without reservation, and his cock throbbed as it threatened to blow at any moment. He had at least enough left to his resistance to not beg for it, but the way his body succumbed, it hardly meant much.

And was Roil ever reveling in it. Rasher had frustrated him so much, the grassy lizard refusing to relent in their conflict no matter what he tried, pushing back as hard as he pushed forward, and he'd been so intent on trying to find SOMETHING he could do to finally prove that he was the better of them. And finally he'd found it, finally he'd pierced those defenses, and not only had he gotten submission, he'd gotten Rasher to ENJOY submitting. It was the triumph he'd been waiting for, and it was getting him all the more excited himself - there was no way he couldn't get Rasher running to him for more of this, he finally had something he could hold over the damned Treecko's head, proof positive of his prime position. Maybe now their feud could be put to rest now that Roil had proven himself the better...

The thought of finally ending all that frustration got him revved up further, and he started to pound away, no longer teasing the Treecko's insides but finally giving them the full treatment, jabbing that sensitive spot within Rasher mercilessly now, sending the searing bolt of rapture through him over and over. Rasher's cries got a little louder, a little more breathless, and his tensing down on Roil intensified...and to the Charmander's surprise, he actually pushed back into Roil a bit. Even as sure as he was of Rasher's submission, the intensity of it was rather incredible, and extremely buoying. Roil's face was contorted in a fierce grin as he drove himself towards the finish, ready to finally plant his indelible mark inside the Treecko and brand him as the lower of the two.

Rasher knew it was coming. Knew he couldn't stop it. Knew he didn't WANT to stop it. And he wasn't really sure whose orgasm he was thinking of, but it hardly mattered, it applied to both of them. His own was first, though - with a louder cry, his back arched and he went off, thick jets of sticky spunk splashing into the grass in front of him, his balls tensing to gush out bolt after bolt of seed, putting his submission on even more stark display. And the way his ass spasmed around the hot poker punishing him, it wasn't long before he brought Roil with him to that pinnacle...the Charmander's cry in his ear was embarrassingly satisfying, and that throbbing rod in his ass turned into a volcano which gushed searing jizz into him, right into that same spot that had so forcefully driven Rasher's surrender. It felt far too good, driving him to an even higher climactic high, getting him shooting more and writhing more with ecstasy. He couldn't even care how much he looked like a slut for Roil right now, not as long as he was getting as much of that pleasure as his body could possibly contain.

Even as the pleasure high faded, the warmth pervading his body didn't...the heat of that spunk within his body left a lingering impression on him as he flopped down onto the grass, partly in his own spunk. He was panting hard, his body felt rubbery, and as humiliating as it was to admit, he'd never had an orgasm that came even close to being that good in his entire life. Having had it forced out of him by Roil couldn't even diminish that, and that might have been even more embarrassing.

Pretty much the opposite feeling for Roil, of course. He pulled out of Rasher and stood up, grinning down at the defeated Treecko. "I think we've learned something here tonight, bitch. And that's that no matter how much you wanna pretend, you're no match for me. Even your own body knows it, it gave up faster than a Wimpod, and I know you can't deny it even to yourself. So let's stop kidding around. The faster you accept that I'm the better one here, the sooner we can all get on in peace. But if you still need more convincing, I'll get you moaning like a little slut again and again until it takes."

The light receded as Roil walked off back to the fire. Rasher couldn't join him, not so quickly, not with so much mess on and in him...it took a lot of effort to get him onto his wobbly legs so he could start to wipe himself off with leaves, and that wasn't going to work well. He was going to have to get water from the campfire...but he wanted to give Roil a minute to get to sleep, so he didn't have to risk a repeat. Even if there was a part of him that really wouldn't have complained at all...his face was burning hot, even admitting that to himself. It was going to be hard to forget about the rapture he'd felt at that, and how easily he'd been brought to such a humbling state. And how easy it likely would be to get him there again...

---

Rasher was clearly not happy next day. The Treecko was especially sulky, even towards Fenton, though he wasn't going to tell his trainer why. Sure, Roil might get in trouble for what he did, but Rasher already felt humiliated enough, telling Fenton would only compound that. Exposing his weakness, in his eyes, could only diminish him...he didn't even want to admit his weakness to himself, much less someone who he desperately wanted to prove himself to. And it HAD been weakness, a moment of surrender to Roil that he couldn't take back. Maybe a weakness had been exploited, but that changed nothing about his own response, the mewls of pleasure he'd given up to his rival would weigh just as heavily on himself as Roil. Much as he didn't want to, in the moment, he did feel pretty well below Roil.

And it didn't help that Roil was clearly enjoying himself, having gotten one up on Rasher. The Charmander had a spring in his strut that absolutely oozed smugness, his voice bearing a false sweetness when he spoke to and about Rasher. He felt on top of the world, like he'd just finally proven himself in a way that Rasher couldn't possibly undo, and all without even throwing a slash at him...and as far as he was concerned, the Treecko's attitude change was just proof that he'd finally submitted to him. So he could throw all the shade he wanted and Rasher would do nothing but take it...well, he'd probably get it out of his system before long, but he had to take a bit of a victory lap after this long.

So it wasn't exactly a tension free-day. At the very least, there weren't any spats between them, but Rasher wasn't about to let Roil revel in his smugness and sense of superiority long. He couldn't just be beaten and leave it at that...no, this couldn't be allowed to stand, he was going to have to do something about it...Rasher WOULD have his payback, and he'd wipe that smirk of the fiery lizard's face for sure.

And he knew how he was going to do it, too.

So he didn't kick up a fuss despite the irritation, enduring the day of humiliation (something he felt he deserved for his breakdown, anyway) as he plotted his course, fighting his battles with calculated efficiency to keep them from distracting him from his real focus. It earned him a bit of praise from Fenton, tempered with a little uncertainty at the change in him, but at least Rasher could glean a little bit of positivity from the day, he'd take what he could get, and assured Fenton that he was just working out some pent-up stress and there was nothing to worry about. At least he wasn't overdoing it by trying to beat up on an already-fainted Pokémon to show his stuff like before, right? That placated his trainer, giving him all the time he needed to prepare.

When the time to camp came about once more, Rasher knew he only had a moment - they wouldn't be far from Fenton until he slept, and he didn't want Roil thinking he could just bed down nice and easy. So while Fenton was busy getting food out from his pack, Rasher snatched Roil's arm, catching him far enough away from Fenton where they could be quiet. Roil paused in stride, giving Rasher a look. "Gonna try and act all tough again? Didn't go so well for you last night, did it?"

"Shut it. I want a rematch. After Fenton's asleep."

Roil smirked at him. "That eager to get dicked by me again? Suit yourself, I'm game." He pulled away from Rasher, who didn't hold him back further. That was fine - the challenge was laid down, Roil certainly wouldn't back down, and that meant things were in motion, which was all he needed now.

The evening passed fairly quickly, Fenton going over some of their recent battles and offering tips and feedback, Rasher deliberately keeping his sniping at Roil to a minimum. The Charmander wasn't doing the same, occasionally offering some snide 'tips' as if he was the one in charge already. That was fine - Rasher just used it to build frustration energy, like with a Bide attack. By the time he unleashed it, Roil would know that he'd only made things worse on himself. He was quiet enough about it that he almost worried Fenton would start to take notice of it and perhaps throw a wrench in everything, but the human just seemed to be satisfied with the diminution of hostility. All the better for him...

The dark sky overhead felt even darker with the clouds obscuring the stars and dimming the moon; it made for easy sleep for Fenton, but worse vision for Rasher. Roil's butt candle actually came in handy this time, helping them see a clear path to a spot where they could settle their differences. Roil was grinning way too wide for Rasher's comfort as they squared off. "Gonna make me work for it, are you? That's fine, it'll make plunging deep in you even more satisfying."

"You're gonna regret being so cocky," warned Rasher.

"Heh, you can't do anything to me. Go too rough and I'll make sure I get more scuffed up than you do."

"You just keep thinking it'll be that simple. It'll make it all the more satisfying to see you brought low."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with, I want to sleep well tonight." Roil came at him, just as Rasher expected he would - the Charmander was cocky now, felt too sure of his victory, and he would be eager to demonstrate it once again. Which meant he was utterly unprepared for the faceful of powder that Rasher suddenly flung at him. Roil let out a yelp and tried to back off, but it was too late, he'd already breathed in a fair bit of it, and he fell back on his rear as he stumbled in his retreat. "Agh! Fucker, that's a cheap shot!"

"Cheaper than using your type advantage against me? Not really. And didn't you seem to think I couldn't win no matter what?"

"Rrgh...that's right, no way you can beat me, I'll show you!" But Roil's confidence was certainly faltering as he pushed himself to his feet...mainly because even doing that felt like a chore. His body was moving sluggishly, his limbs felt heavy, it almost felt like trying to push through water rather than air, and every part of him felt slow to respond to what he wanted them to do. "What...ungh, did you...what the hell is this?"

"A little mixture of a few things. A low dose of stun spore, compounded with a few plants that modify the effects just a touch...and another little surprise of my own. Did you really think I'd let you get away with your shenanigans last night? That I'd just take them lying down?"

"Hrgh..." Even taking steps felt like a chore at the moment for Roil. "Fenton's gonna be pissed if I'm not in fighting shape..."

"It'll wear off in a half-hour or so. Plenty of time, though, for me to do what I want to do."

"What're you gonna do? Beat me up while I'm crippled like this? You think that'll prove anything?"

"Of course not. You didn't defeat me in a battle, either." Rasher stepped towards Roil, who attempted to swipe at him, but the swing was so slow and lacking in force that Rasher simply pushed it aside. "You attacked my pride. And I'm not gonna deny that you left a wound. Much as I hate to admit it, I WAS your bitch in that moment. But that just means I need to get you back. So it's only fair that I do the same to you."

Roil huffed, blowing smoke into Rasher's face. "Hah! Do your worst...you know you don't stand a chance of getting me off like I did to you. I'm not sensitive to you."

"Oh, really, now?" Rasher grabbed Roil's shoulder and shoved the Charmander onto his back, coming down on top of him, and poked one of his fingers in Roil's slit. The visible spasm and gasp from Roil were just the reactions he was hoping for, and now he was the one grinning malevolently as he started to stroke over that opening. "Seem pretty sensitive to me."

"Wh...what...what are...why?"

"My little 'surprise.' A powder made from a few special herbs, it's got a nifty little property...it temporarily inverts the normal type response. Right now, you'd have no problem handling Water-type or Ground-type attacks...but a Grass-type like me, you're as vulnerable as you'll ever be in your life."

"You-FUCK!" Roil spat as Rasher curled his fingers inside his slit, bucking his hips up involuntarily as much as his inhibited body would allow. That had no right feeling as good as it did! He could feel his cock swelling up fairly rapidly, and his efforts to keep it inside were totally thwarted...at least it forced the assault on his slit to cease, but that didn't help much as Rasher had a much more prominent target now. "H-how...does that...even exist?!"

"How does anything exist? Because it does. And I'm damn glad it does. I was planning to use it in a duel between us so I could finally prove that I was the stronger one, but then you had to do that to me yesterday...gave me a much better idea for what I could do with it." Rasher clambered further over Roil, allowing his own cock to stroke against Roil's, making the Charmander cry out and himself moan pleasantly - the effect of the herb didn't just reverse Roil's sensitivity, but how much could be induced on Rasher himself. Those flames didn't have nearly the effect they'd had on him last night, pleasantly warm rather than hyper-intense. "You poked fun at my sensitive spots last night...I wonder if you have any of your own that you don't want to confess to?"

"N-no! None! I'm not...a bitch like you are!" Rasher almost laughed at the obvious uncertainty in Roil's voice, and even Roil could tell. He didn't want to think he had a spot that could be exploited like Rasher did, but...how could he know for sure? He hadn't asked about that at all, only about Grass-type weaknesses...did he have one that was like that? He tried to put on a defiant face, but that was hard as hell with that cock stroking against his, lighting it up in pleasure that might have been a match for the Treecko's ass. Or, scarily enough, maybe even better.

"Hm, well, let's see if that's really the case." There was a smugness in Rasher's voice as he dragged his cock down towards Roil's tailhole. He could feel the Charmander tense a bit as that tip poked against the pucker, but he knew it wouldn't mean much - if Roil's type advantage meant that he could punch through without any difficulty, then Rasher's turnabout surely meant he could do the same. It was an exciting thought, but he was trying to act with a bit of restraint, so that he could make sure to leave as potent an impression as he could. Still, he was up against a time limit, and curiosity was nibbling at him, so he decided to test the waters, as it were - and made sure not to go easy on Roil as he rammed his cock in, hilting in one fell swoop.

Roil's head jerked back, an involuntary move that overwhelmed the stun effect, clenching his jaw as hard as possible to prevent himself from crying out - and even that failed to quell everything, as a high-pitched moan slipped out briefly. His ass had yielded so easily to the Treecko, and it felt absolutely amazing, his own cock jetting pre onto his scales as he received a ferocious bolt of pleasure through him. And the steam was rising from his flushed face as he realized...the strongest bit of that had come from a spot that the tip of that Treecko cock was currently pressed against. He had his own weak point, a spot that would make him just as vulnerable as Rasher had been to him...one that was normally well-guarded against Grass-types, but currently had no defense. And even as he tried to tell himself he needed to fight it, to hold himself back, there was a part of him that really wanted it to be attacked again.

And it was getting that wish granted. Rasher pulled out again and then thrust back in, jabbing that spot again and getting Roil to let out a more vocal moan. "Mm, looks like we have confirmation. Heh, I was a little worried maybe you wouldn't, but I would've made sure you'd be worked up somehow...guess I don't have to get too creative, this time." He started to thrust at a solid clip, angling here and there so that he didn't always make contact with that hot spot, wanting to make sure it didn't lose the potency of its effect too quickly. "And for how much you teased me yesterday, you got to moaning faster than I did."

"Ahn...haah...y-you...ag!" Another spike of pleasure cut off Roil's shaky attempt to assert himself. His fingers dug into the grass as he was railed by the Treecko, that sticky staff pulsing viscous precum into his ass that felt beyond terrific. Even though most of his motions were pretty slow, they were nonetheless very conceding; he couldn't help but notice that he couldn't make himself try to shut his legs, if anything he was spreading them more, and his back was arching slightly, almost like he was offering himself to the Treecko. It was such a stark turnabout from the previous night, when he'd felt so powerful and in control, had Rasher right where he wanted him...now Rasher was in control, he was completely helpless and surrendering hard to the pleasure being forced on him.

And the really embarrassing thing was, he was even more aroused by this than he had been last night. He could feel his heart racing in unwanted excitement, his loins tingling and throbbing as they greedily sucked up the stimulation, his open mouth releasing constant moans and cries that he couldn't force himself to restrain, even though that was one part of him that was largely unaffected by the stun effect. The scent of sex in the air, the sweetness of Treecko mixed with the spiciness of Charmander, was as pervasive as the previous night, and no less enticing even as he was in the opposite position, he was getting so turned on by it he could hardly keep his head about him. Try as he might, he wasn't able to do anything to defy the impression he wanted this - and though he didn't want to admit it, he wasn't trying very hard.

On the other hand, Rasher was thoroughly enjoying himself and more than happy to accept it. The feeling of that ass clenching around his cock was supremely satisfying, especially given that it had just been the other way around the night before. He light squirming that Roil was giving off, all he could do with his movements inhibited, were especially enjoyable, giving him a feel of power and control he didn't usually get to assert over the other reptile - Roil was physically stronger than he was, Rasher couldn't deny being slightly envious of that even as he had the edge in agility, being able to simulate that kind of overpowering was thoroughly pleasing. He could see why Roil had taken a go at him before, it was thrilling on a primal level to be conquering a rival like this. Not to mention hearing how much they liked it. "Listen to you...not so high and mighty now, are you? So smug yesterday, acting like you'd found some secret weapon against me...well, you're not fighting it any more than I was, you're enjoying every second of this. If you thought I was the bitch, then what does that make you?"

Roil was perhaps grateful that he was too out of breath to respond to that, not sure how much he trusted himself to defy those words. He certainly didn't want to admit to being a bitch in any way, but...it was hard even for him to see the distinction between how Rasher had been yesterday and how he was tonight. Sure, Rasher had dosed him up with something, but surely if he was as strong as he said he was, he would have been able to fight it anyway, not let it get to him...instead he'd given in just as quickly, and liked it just as much. His throbbing shaft, desiring release more than anything, was obvious evidence of this, the mess of pre on his chest and stomach putting on a rather embarrassing display. Even if the stun wore off now, he didn't trust that he'd even make an effort to fight back, rather than continuing to take what he was being given.

And if there were any bits of resistance that remained in effect, they were thoroughly beaten when Rasher rose up and started to buck in harder and faster, bearing down on the Charmander with all the intensity he could muster. It was almost intimidating for Roil to look up into those determined eyes, that fierce expression of triumph that didn't relent for a moment as he powered into the finale, laying into Roil with all the force he could muster and battering that pleasure point for all it was worth. It sent fierce spikes of bliss through the fiery lizard's body, ones that built on themselves and redoubled, and he was helpless to anything but accepting it - it was all he could do to still his tongue from begging for it!

It took little more for Roil to cum, and he did so rather impressively - from the angle he was at, the jets of steaming spunk had nowhere to go but onto himself, and they fired out hard, shooting out far enough to splash down on his face and muzzle as well as his chest and stomach. He couldn't help but taste his own seed as it landed in his mouth - a literal taste of defeat, and it wasn't at all undesirable. And he just kept shooting, over and over, it felt like he couldn't stop...

And then Rasher hit his limit, driving his cock against that hot button and spewing forth viscous cum that rushed over that spot and spread deeper inside him, and Roil could have sworn that he came even harder, even more lines of glowing-hot seed plastering his scales. His ass clenched harder around that Treecko dick, milking it for all it was worth, absolutely heedless of the shameful concession of desiring that grassy mark inside him, only caring about sating the craving his body had for more of that delightful sensation of seed pouring into him.

Watching and feeling that gave Rasher such immense satisfaction, not to mention a thrill at seeing Roil so thoroughly submit to him...he definitely understood why Roil had been so smug last night, it was just too good. He kept it up as long as he could, but eventually his load had to run out, as did his energy. He wasn't in a hurry to remove himself from that wonderful ass, though, staying in place long enough to feel Roil slump back, completely spent and an enormous mess, flopped back and so obviously used that anyone passing by would have had no doubt what had happened.

Once Rasher had caught his breath, he spoke up again, confidence bolstered by the resounding success of his plan. "So, you wanna admit that you're no less likely to be a bitch than I am? Gonna rethink that whole 'you're better than me' spiel you were yapping about last night, and probably getting ready to try to throw in my face again tonight?"

"You...ugh..." The flush and steam from Roil's face betrayed his embarrassment quite effectively, Rasher could swear his face was even glowing. Though part of that might have been the steamy cum that had splattered onto it. "You...had to...stoop to shenanigans...to do this...to me..."

"Yeah, you know what? I don't give a shit. Maybe I don't have the edge by nature, but so what? I can make it happen. And I will. Every single time. I don't care how many times you try to come at me, how many times you humiliate me, how many times you try to put me underneath you, I WILL give back at least as good as I get." Rasher's eyes bore down into Roil's, more intimidating than the Charmander had ever seen them in his life. "And let this get through your thick skull: I will NEVER yield to you just because you think you deserve it. If you think you really belong on top, then by fuck you are going to EARN every inch of that primacy, FIGHT like hell to cling to it when I come at you, and I won't let you ever feel comfortable in it even when you have it. Go ahead and try to get me again, maybe you'll get a night and then I'll make sure you pay for it, you won't embarrass me because I know you'll mewl like a bitch just as much as I ever would to you. I will NEVER be scared of you, Roil, no matter what."

With that, the Treecko pulled out, his slimy syrup leaving a bit of a trail along Roil's tail. He grabbed a leaf to wipe himself off - much less cleanup for him than last night, which he was glad for - then plopped down against a tree trunk, keeping his eye on Roil until the orange lizard could move again - Fenton would have flayed him alive if anything happened to Roil because of him, no way would he risk that. Eventually the effects of the powder wore off, and Roil was able to get to his feet properly. He gave Rasher a dark look, one that definitely spoke of scarred pride, embarrassment, and something else he probably didn't want to confess to, before releasing bursts of heat around himself to clean himself off. Without another word, he headed back to the campsite - perfectly fine by Rasher, who gave him a minute before going back himself. He'd made his point, what happened next he'd just have to see.

---

Calling Roil thoroughly chastened would have been somewhat understating it. The Charmander burned with humiliation all through the next day, unable to forget the feeling of the Treecko's cock in his ass, how amazing it had felt under the effects of that powder, and how easily he'd blown to the sensations. Now that he'd been on the other end, even his previous success seemed kind of pale...sure, he'd gotten Rasher to the same point, but what did it matter if he could be made to submit like that as well? Even if it had taken some extra effort, Rasher was clearly willing to put it in, and clearly it couldn't have been than hard to get what he needed to do so.

Rasher, for his part, didn't fall into the trap of gloating over what he was certain would only be a temporary victory. True, his mood was far better, he was a lot more relaxed and less ruthless in his battles, and he did allow himself a couple of smirks at the grumpy Charmander, but he didn't spend a lot of time rubbing it in. As far as he knew, Roil's silence just meant the Charmander was getting ready for his revenge. Whatever it was, he'd either parry it or get his payback, whichever was warranted.

But it wasn't that night, as things passed uneventfully, no interactions between the two beyond the usual fireside chats with Fenton. Roil was still fairly quiet, but made an effort to pretend like everything was normal, minus avoiding spending too much time antagonizing Rasher; Rasher was eager to talk, but avoiding making it too much about Roil. The changes didn't go entirely unnoticed by Fenton, but he didn't seem inclined to ask about them - perhaps he was just glad that they seemed to be working out their differences in a way that didn't cause him obvious distress. He might not have been so happy if he knew the reality, but neither Pokémon was going to break that illusion.

It wasn't until the middle of the next day that the relative silence was broken. They had just finished up with a battle, and Fenton was talking with the other trainer when Roil tugged Rasher's tail and motioned for him to follow. Curious, Rasher did, wondering what Roil was planning - surely he wouldn't be so audacious as to try to take his revenge in broad daylight, so he wasn't worried, but he was curious.

Off far enough where they wouldn't be overheard, Roil turned to Rasher, a firm and determined expression on his face. "I wanna talk about what happened between us."

"Now you wanna talk?" replied Rasher, a bit testily. "Coulda used that attitude when you ambushed me."

"That's...look, it's different now-"

"Yeah, since I showed you up. If you wanna get on my case for that-"

"Rasher, would you shut up and listen? This is hard enough as it is." Rasher backed off, not sure what Roil was talking about, watching the Charmander take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I was fuckin' pissed when you turned the tables on me. You have no...well, fuck, you probably do have some idea how badly I wanted to get back at you, so, yeah. But I was...I couldn't just do the same thing, because I knew you'd get me back, even if I tried to get around it. And I can't do anything else I could think of because there's no way it wouldn't get me in hot water with Fenton, so it was kinda driving me nuts..."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Rasher tried to deliver that with as little snark as possible, because this time he genuinely didn't know.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just...ugh, fuck, might as well just do it. I wanna propose a truce, kind of."

"...What does that mean?"

"It means...well, it's like this. You don't wanna concede to me, I don't wanna concede to you. We've been at this so long that it's making Fenton unhappy, and neither of us want that. So...maybe the best way to fix this, kind of, is...well, sharing."

"Sharing?"

"Yeah. One of us on top one day, the other the next day. Split it half and half. And...we swap by...you know...doing THAT the night before. And...the other person doesn't fight it, they let it happen to them."

Rasher looked at Roil in disbelief. Was he seriously proposing they WILLINGLY submit to each other? And sexually no less? It was ludicrous, there was no way Rasher wanted to be on the bottom in any sense...well, maybe that wasn't entirely true, but he wanted to think that. Then again, Roil doubtlessly still felt the same way. Nothing else had worked up to that point...and, well, it hadn't been the end of the world the day after he'd been conquered by Roil, he'd still been able to take back his status after that. Suddenly it didn't look like a totally crazy idea... "You think I want to bend over and let you pound me and pump me like that? I'd never want something like that." He tried to sound as convincing as possible even as the heat flooded his face.

"Hell, I don't want to let you do that to me, either," replied Roil, face reddening and gaze averted. "But if I know I get to get you back soon enough, I guess I can probably deal with it. I mean...well, if you can make me cum that hard when I don't want it, and I definitely don't want it, then I guess you did something right, right?"

"...Hm. I guess..." Rasher's face darkened further, recalling the feelings from Roil's rutting of him. "...It'd make Fenton happy, wouldn't it? For us to...well, at least tolerate each other. Fewer fights, less competition, he doesn't have to referee us all the time..."

Roil nodded. "Yeah. It would be good for him. And...well, I never doubted you wanted to make him happy...and I do, too..."

Both fell quiet for a moment, neither one sure they wanted to be the one to speak up, even though they both knew it had already really been decided. Eventually, though, Rasher broke the silence. "All right...I'll agree to this, on one condition. You still gotta earn it. If you can't get me shooting before you do when you take me, you don't get to take back control until you do."

"Huh? Uh..." Roil scrambled to think of a response to that, he hadn't contemplated that wrinkle. "Well, uh, same goes for you, you gotta make me cum, too."

"Oh, I'm not worried about making YOU shoot off, you geysered pretty hard last time," Rasher responded with a bit of a smirk.

"You say that like you weren't blowing like it was no thing," countered Roil. "Fine, I'm plenty confident that I can get it out of you. Deal."

"Deal." Rasher stuck out his hand, and Roil grabbed and shook. "So...I'm assuming we start tonight, so how do we decide who goes first?"

"...We'll just have to see who can best the other."

"That sounds like you're thinking you can get the edge because of the type advantage. You think I won't be trying to prepare for that?"

"I'll be ready for that powder this time. You'll have to work harder than last time to get the better of me."

Both of them locked eyes, the determination burning bright in them. It may not have resolved all their differences, but both had a feeling this agreement would at least keep the peace between them - a worthy compromise to keep their trainer happy. And though neither one of them would admit to it, both of them weren't so sure that they wouldn't enjoy what it would take to surrender their dominance for the next day, either...