FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was generally believed that the world had been designed for communication between Pokémon and Humans to be as difficult as possible by the divine will of Arceus. There couldn't be any other explanation. Nobody had ever succeeded in the invention of a translation device, no pattern of calls ever analysed to the extent that they may be converted into words. Probably because if you were to ask a Pokémon to say the same thing twice, it would sound different both times. It was baffling. Ludicrous. But simply accepted as a rule. Pokémon could understand Humans just fine, and each other even across species and Type, but expressing themselves to their Masters was absurdly difficult.

Well, it wasn't impossible. Telepathy among Psychic Types and some others ranged from sharing of emotions, to glimpsing memories, all the way up to just outright words. But common sense was defied yet again when the teaching of sign language or written word for those Pokémon that had suitable appendages and intelligence never really managed to work out. And even when communicating through telepathy, the way that Pokémon and Humans thought was fundamentally different, with a huge gap in values and instincts even inside a shared society.

Translator Pokémon were valuable. A high-level Psychic Type, or a stalwart Lucario that could be counted on to take tone and nuance into account prized highly. But the most sought after of all was a Pokémon that was able to speak the Human tongue. Exceedingly rare – to the extent that numbers across the whole world might be counted on your fingers. Nobody knew what caused one to occur, though it normally happened at the point of evolution, as if Arceus himself was conveying a blessing.

And one of those talking Pokémon lived with Dale in his shitty apartment.

His family had celebrated as if they had won the lottery. Jubilation peaked when the first neatly suited man approached and offhandedly offered him enough money to never have to work again in his life. But Dale had simply said, “Would you sell your brother?".

The line had sounded impressive in his head, and he had rehearsed it enough times to have been slightly proud of the delivery. But rather than put off those bidding for his Pokémon, it seemed to make them think that he was playing hardball and that larger sums were necessary for the purchase. His father, knowing that he was serious, was so enraged that Dale had put a Pokémon before enough wealth to change the lives of his family (slapping aside the argument that until that point, the consideration that said Pokémon was family as well had always been tacit), that Dale had been disowned and kicked out of his home.

Well, it was probably about time he flew the nest anyway. An acquaintance from his local gym (the Human kind, not the battling kind) had helped to connect him to this cheap accommodation across the street from some government offices, and he'd managed to land on his feet. If he was interested in women, he might have asked Carol Gladhand out on a date. If she was interested in men, she might have said yes.

It was a small home, just a few rooms, but more than enough for him and his companion. Kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom – did you really need any more than that anyway? He'd rather live here with his Pokémon than in some enormous mansion on his own. It wasn't that Dale was without ambition – just that he'd never been partial to excess. Well, that, and the idea that it was so easy to just trade, sell, or discard a Pokémon had never really sat well with him.

He tried to imagine himself in that sort of situation. Where a person that he trusted could smile at him, return him to his Pokéball, and the next time that he materialised into the world he was the possession of someone else. The anxiety that you might lose everything at any moment would certainly have him treading on eggshells around his Master, overly agreeable, servile, and scared. Some famous Dragon Type Trainer had given a speech in town one day about Humans needing to be worthy stewards, and he called to mind fragments of it on occasions like this. Well, he wasn't perfect, but he at the very least wanted to be a decent enough guy to be able to say that his partner Pokémon could live without fear.

Naturally, there were plenty of rumours about him. Making a moral argument for not selling his Pokémon made him look a bit self-righteous, and plenty thought that he was faking it to drive up offers. Everyone has a price, or so they say. The other rumour (and by far the most widely believed) was that he was some sort of Poképhile, perhaps seduced by his partner, or merely enamoured enough to not be willing to surrender his pocket sex-toy even for a truly eye-watering sum.

It didn't help that his Pokémon was a Vaporeon.

One fateful meme had forever changed the perception of this particular species, and the moment that it was pointed out that Dale's companion was a Vaporeon, there was no shortage of knowing smirks and slow nods of the head. It wasn't that Poképhilia was illegal (though some politician or another was trying to pass a bill to make it so), but those that were in relationships with their Pokémon were in an extreme minority and generally looked at as problematic. How could you have an equal relationship with such an extreme power dynamic? When it was the instinct of Pokémon to submit and obey, and the instinct of the Humans of this world to wield authority over their companion Pokémon? Well, maybe if you were really into slave and master play it might float your boat, but it was all a bit much for Dale.

“Hey Master, did you know?" A familiar voice came from by the window, and a slight vibration of their fins was accompanied by a rather smug expression, “…that it's probably going to rain today?"

Bastard. Far from walking on eggshells around Dale, his partner seemed intent on toying with him instead. This Vaporeon had embraced the meme, memorised it, expanded it, and seemed to find a tremendous amount of fun in tormenting his Master with snippets of lewdness at every opportunity. Reclining at the sliding window which preceded the balcony, he grinned at Dale to the backdrop of a stormy looking sky. Even without that special ability to know when rain was coming, the impending bad weather was obvious, “You're going to get wet today, Master. About as wet as my undertail. Way better than any girl. Want to feel?"

After a slow sigh, he gestured with his empty coffee cup from the sofa, “Well, don't get so wet that you mark the carpet again." His response was completely nonchalant, Dale having gotten used to this sort of banter a long time ago, “Maybe a little rain will cool you off some."

A soft whine came in return, “The only thing that will cool me down is a good nut from Master's big Human cock! Is today the day that you finally make me turn white? Show me that my inferior Pokémon dick is just a little ornament!"

Their eyes met… And Dale broke first, a smirk to a grin, and then a snort of laughter which his companion quickly joined in with. Of course, it was a joke – these exchanges of horny Pokémon and weary Master having become practically routine at this point, their own little comedy double-act, “Arceus' grace, Fynn. You need to lay off the porn. What the hell are you watching to come up with a line like that?"

Fynn. He'd renamed himself after choosing a Water Stone and deciding that the three large fins that framed his head were his most impressive feature. A little pretention was necessary for a talking Pokémon, so after batting the spelling back and forth a little, Fynn is what he and Dale had settled on. He laughed along with his Master. Just like always. If his Master was a bit sharper, he would have noticed that after every one of these jokes, Fynn always laughed second. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The Vaporeon pulled himself up onto his paws, careful not to swipe the coffee table with his overlarge tail as he came about from his curled-up posture, “I didn't see it in porn, Master. How would I even watch porn? I overheard it from the apartment downstairs. That big Human with the dopey face is giving his Lycanroc the good stuff. And they are loud!" A small harrumph accompanied that exclamation, “Hey Master, did you know? With my high base HP pool, access to Acid Armour, and my Water Absorb, you could fuck me much harder and much longer than-".

“Fynn – we finished joking around already." Dale crossed his arms. It wasn't a proper admonishment, but there was enough sternness to his voice to halt the Vaporeon before he built up any more momentum. Fynn knew what the limits were. He knew when to push and when not to. It was only a matter of time until he got his way, and an advance was taken seriously.

Hopefully.

This was the way that it had always gone. The very first time that he'd tried flirting with his Master – being as straightforward in his desires as any Pokémon would be – Dale had been stopped in his tracks. And then he had laughed. And then Fynn had laughed as well. He thought it was a joke. To Human sensibilities, approaching a superior male and asking them to turn you into their submissive fucktoy, an owned and dedicated worshipper of their grander masculinity, well, you'd probably think that it was some sort of joke, too.

But to a Pokémon, it was perfectly natural. Dale was his Master. He kept him well, fed him, housed him, took care of him when he was sick or hurt, facilitated him in living the sort of laid-back life that he wanted. He directed him in the occasional battle – though Fynn wasn't much of a Warrior Pokémon – they worked hard together to earn money, and above all else, his Master was loyal enough to not trade him away for enough wealth to change his life. How could he not cease to see his Master as a brother, and start to see him as a male that he wanted to dedicate his everything to?

Human culture was strange. Humans were strange. Dale's reputation of 'probably a Poképhile' had driven away any prospective mates on the assumption that he was already in some sort of romantic entanglement with his Vaporeon. Why not put truth to the accusations? All of that Tauros dung about power dynamics being problematic – how was it not right for a lesser male to lift his tail for a greater one? Baffling. Though, perhaps that Fynn could envision no greater male than his own Human, even with his faults, spoke of just how much Human thinking had corrupted him. Or maybe it was because he just truly loved his Master. If he'd not chosen a Water Stone when offered, he'd definitely have turned into some sort of femboy Sylveon eventually.

Ugh. Overthinking like this was for Humans. Who cared about the specifics? He wanted Dale to be his mate. He didn't want to share him with anyone – not even other Pokémon. Familial love had become romantic love a long time ago, and the proper words for his confession would probably come to him when his Master had him bent in half, spraying his inferior Pokémon seed over his own face, mouth open for it to pool on his tongue. Then he could swallow nice and obviously, and show his Master what a grateful Human-owned slut he-

No. Better stop thinking like that right there. Fynn winced as his slit parted ever so slightly, and he manoeuvred his hips behind himself to make sure that his Master didn't notice. Fortunately, Dale washing up some breakfast dishes was sufficient distraction, and by the time they were ready to head out for the day, Fynn had regained his composure, ready to be withdrawn into his Pokéball for the duration of their morning commute.

And he left a little wet patch on the carpet after all.

If Fynn was asked to describe the inside of a Pokéball (and he had been asked quite a few times), he would always just say, 'comfortable'. Curled up and miniaturised, he only really had a vague idea of what was going on outside of the sphere even if he really tried to concentrate. His perception of time was also somewhat dependent on his level of attention, and it was very much Fynn's preference to zone out and have the hours until his release pass by at the sensation of only moments. The vibe of an impending battle or touch of Dale's hand would bring him to wakefulness, though likening the almost-stasis to sleep didn't feel quite right, either. So, to Fynn it was just 'comfortable'. A cozy little daydream state that quickened the time to which he could next be with his precious Master.

He felt the touch of their hand now, and in these moments preceding release, his view of the world widened into a perfect clarity. The surrounds were familiar, the locker room of the Human gym at which Dale was now employed, wooden benches at the core of a space lined with small metal vaults, a large communal shower section at the rear and doors at the fore. There were two other half-dressed males here, and Fynn recognised them as friends of his Master. Of course, this was also an opportunity for another little joke that the Vaporeon absolutely couldn't miss out on.

Materialising from crimson light atop one of the benches, Fynn presented himself on his back, his forepaws in the air and his lower body twisted to side-on, his tail draped upwards over his belly to conceal his crotch, and the pose was as seductive as he could muster with one hindleg raised high. He kept his eyes closed, pretending that he was unaware of where he was, and his voice crooned, “Maaasssteeerrrr? Are we going for another round?" His fins quivered and his expression turned smug, “Hey Master, did you know? I have all sorts of Moves to get you in the mood-"

“Giratina's cunt! Damn it, Fynn!" Dale swore loudly as the other two men whooped and jeered, “You want a Move!? How about Self-Destruct!?" He vocalised his frustration with a shout, but then cracked a smile and joined in with the laughter. At some point this sort of thing had simply become par for the course, and his friends had learned to take the excessive advances of the horny Pokémon on Dale entirely in stride, “Enough joking around. We're on pool duty again today, so I'm going to be counting on you. Don't get distracted…"

It was their most commonly assigned task, and one which suited them well. Parting ways from the pair of personal trainers clocking on at the same time, they slipped around a tiled corner and into a large space housing an Olympic sized pool. The outer wall and ceiling were a lattice of steel and glass panes (beyond which raged Fynn's promised stormy weather), the inner side a series of alcoves containing hot tubs, a sauna and a steam room. This gym was intended for Humans, and Fynn was the only Pokémon present, a little dayglo orange lanyard dangling from his neck signifying that he was on duty.

Nothing ever happened – Dale would sit on a plastic chair and read a book while Humans swam back and forth in narrow lanes. Twice each day he'd have to reel in the ropes dividing the space to make room for classes, and every few hours the water would be tested and treated. Dull work, but for Fynn it was precious time for scheming. This would be a long shift and with all of the extra duties in closing down the pool, he anticipated that the two of them would have the building to themselves before lockup. A perfect opportunity to make a few more moves!

So, what brand of sexual harassment would it be today?

The Vaporeon paddled idly while in thought, few enough Humans present at the moment for him to take a lane for himself. After months of his advances, Dale still hadn't taken the hint, and even more overt flirting had simply been laughed off. Well, Humans did seem to be a little dense when it came to this sort of thing. But… that his Master had never outright ordered him to stop was a sign that there was hope, right? He wouldn't be indulging all Fynn's pushing if he wasn't at least a little interested, even if he did think it was all a joke. Whatever Dale was caught up on, whatever barrier was in the way, with enough effort the Pokémon was sure that he could tear it down. Then it would be time to strike!

“I've been chasing off any prospective mates… I thought if he just got horny enough then…" His inner monologue chose a tangent and drifted off, “Then eventually he'd lose his mind one time. Grab me by the throat and slam me into the wall. Put my forepaws onto his strong chest and crush me into the tiles. Tell me that from now on I'm his personal whore, his obedient cumslut fuckpet, and then he can mate me until my mind breaks and-"

Fynn increased the intensity of his paddling in an effort to stymie his arousal, having been informed already that the emergence of his Pokémon cock from its slit in public was considered by Humans to be some sort of faux pas. More baffling Human customs. His precum dripping maleness and the raising of his tail was evidence of his submission! It was supposed to make the man that he was bowing for happy and his peers jealous! But it made Dale blush, apologise to everyone present, return him to his Pokéball, and give him a lecture back at their nest! Ridiculous.

He huffed, the memory of that telling off enough to douse the flames of his arousal. Even after spending most of his life living as Dale's companion, his instincts remained strong and many of the intricacies of Human society had never really managed to sink in. Though, from what he understood, it was generally like that with all Pokémon as if by design. His common sense was different to their common sense – that's why the actions of his Master were oftentimes so confusing. He didn't accept Fynn's advances, but he didn't turn them away absolutely either.

This Human courtship ritual was certainly a lot of effort. As far as Fynn could tell, he just needed to push hard enough, prove alluring enough, and his Master would eventually cave and be his. He sighed, “Or maybe I should just pounce on him one night?" The musing was a common fantasy, “It sucks that I'm so bulky. Maybe if I was an Espeon or something I would be agile enough to slip under the covers while he's asleep. I don't think he'd turn me down if he was already halfway to fucking his cum into my throat by the time he woke up… probably."

Those thoughts required yet more exercise to dispel, and Fynn had picked up quite the amount of speed in his slicing through the water back and forth in his lane. His own sex drive was voracious, but he insisted on saving himself for his Master. Masturbation came at least thrice a day, usually in the form of autofellatio to remove the requirement for cleanup, though his native powers as a Water Type allowed him to make his own sex toys out of ice. Naturally, he made sure that he was caught on purpose every once in a while. But even ensuring that he was midway through moaning 'Ma~ste~r' as sweetly as possible, Dale had always just closed the door on him. What a spoilsport.

For a Pokémon, there was never much of a barrier between them and their desires, and with his Master as his target, their pursuit had become Fynn's obsession, “Which is why, instead of wasting time fantasising, I should be coming up with another plan!" The Vaporeon got to scheming, “What will it be this time? Shall I meld with the water and try to get inside his shorts when he swims? Let myself get caught spying on him changing? Maybe I should just outright tell him that I want him to fuck my throat raw… I bet all it'll take is the taste of his cum on my tongue to make me spray my load over the floor…" His swim speed slowed to a languid pace, “No, that feels like too much of a desperation move for a Human. If I push too hard all at once, then it'll definitely backfire…"

Fynn sighed, “I wonder what he's thinking?"

There was plenty on Dale's mind. He leaned back in his plastic chair, having not turned the page of his book for quite some time as he watched his Vaporeon swim back and forth so energetically. He really should do something before Fynn's advances properly got out of hand. Truth be told, he wasn't completely oblivious to his partner chasing him, though he put up enough of an act to have fooled the Pokémon. It was flattering, really. Despite his protestations, he did enjoy the banter of their little comedies together, and there was certainly an allure to his companion that he couldn't deny.

But, deny it he must, “It's just a phase." He hated how dismissive that sounded, and his inner monologue continued, “It's a tough time for Fynn. Every time the doorbell rings it's another suited man with a case filled with cash. Of course, he's anxious. Throwing himself at me like this… it's because he doesn't trust me. If I were a better Master, he'd believe me when I say I'm not giving him up no matter what. I guess it's a very Pokémon way of thinking to use sex to bind us together tighter… it's not like he really likes me that way – he's just desperate not to be traded or sold."

Dale grumbled under his breath, “I can't figure out if just pressing on like this is cowardly or noble. What else am I supposed to do? I don't think he'd accept it even if I spelled it out for him." He exhaled through his teeth in a whistle. Agonizing over things had never led him to a solution before, and he hardly imagined that one would materialise before him today. Eventually Fynn would lose interest in him, and things would go back to normal. Probably.

His eye twitched slightly. He hated that. He hated that the idea of things going back to normal was actually a little disappointing to him. But, what sort of asshole would he be to take advantage of his Vaporeon like this? He liked the attention. He liked that it made him work harder and show off more. He'd never be able to say something as embarrassing as 'Fynn makes me a better man', but it was undeniably true. At the very least, he wanted to put on a brave face, bury all of his tumultuous thoughts, and put his Pokémon at ease by only letting him see his best self.

A 'worthy steward'. That's what that Dragon Type Master he looked up to had said Humans should aspire to be. Dale replayed a few lines of his speech in his head again, trying hard to figure out what was the right thing to do. And then he scowled again when he realised that he was trying to concoct some sort of moral argument that would let him fuck his Pokémon, “Arceus' divine cock." He swore, “I'm probably the worst Master to ever live." Dale shook his head, doing his best to dispel his lustful thoughts, “I'm the bad guy whatever I do. If I'm blunt with him then I'm telling him how to think instead of earning his faith with my actions. If I keep going as I am, then I'm stringing him along so I can enjoy more flirting and all these little ego boosts. And if I give in to temptation, then I'm taking advantage of Fynn at his most vulnerable. What the heck am I supposed to do?" He repeated the question over and over again, “What is the right thing to do? How do I make him happy?"

There was a certain level of irony that despite having an ultra-rare Pokémon capable of speaking the Human tongue as his partner, there had been such a complete breakdown in communication between them. Acknowledgement of that farcical circumstance brought a grim smile to Dale's face, and he sat back further in his plastic chair, placing down his book for good, “I'm kinda scared." He scoffed, that thought lingering in his head for a good long while, “What if Fynn secretly hates me, and everything he does is just so I won't trade or sell him?"

It wasn't a line of thought that he truly believed, but that intrusive idea was like a barb in his heart. Master and Pokémon were not equals. From a Human perspective, there was a tremendous amount of tension to that reality. When Fynn talked about it from a Pokémon's point of view, all of that talk about the instincts of submission and the rights of the worthy – it all sounded ludicrous. 'Pokémon want to be used by Humans', it was a hard thing to wrap his head around, and he couldn't accept it, “Maybe it's my failure to exert power over Fynn that's making him so anxious?"

Well, there was an idea that he'd never managed to meander his way to before, this thought of the perspective of the species. Rather than explain himself, or pass everything off as a joke, maybe he should… not say how it is… but… command how it is?

That called a little heat to his cheeks, and he quickly retrieved his book to hide what he was sure was a particularly lecherous expression from any of the gym patrons that might have been swimming nearby. No. He shook his head. What sort of tyrant Master would that make him? This was more than a little too far into the sort of slave and master play that took advantage of the instincts of Humans and Pokémon, “It pisses me off that it's a little enticing, though. A strong Master that takes responsibility for everything. Is that a 'good steward'?"

He shook his head. That probably wasn't it either. Wouldn't it be a little too convenient if all that it would take to resolve his relationship with Fynn would be slamming him onto his back, telling him that he was his possession for life, and fucking him senseless to prove it? Dale huffed, and then grinned. Maybe the horny little bastard was rubbing off on him a little more than he'd like to admit if his train of thought was starting to head into this direction. That was enough grappling with the issue for one shift. He'd best get to rolling in the ropes for the next class, and he could think about what to do with Fynn more later.

The hours passed, and the long shift dragged out into the evening, Fynn swimming on his back so that he could watch the stormy weather blow itself out beyond the overhead glass. It was still early spring, so darkness fell quickly, and it remained a little bit chilly outside. Well, chilly times were part of why he had chosen to become a Vaporeon in the first place – with Scald he could heat his own water-based body up and serve as a hot water bottle, and in the heights of summer he could freeze with Blizzard to become like a great mass of ice. At three feet tall and around thirty kilos, he was the perfect size for cuddling, and his temperature control allowed him to scoff at any Sylveon that imagined they could sidle up against their Master so easily on a hot and humid night or provide any meaningful warmth on a cold one! Glaceon was too chilly in winter, and Flareon was too hot in summer, but choosing a Water Stone made sure that Fynn was always just right.

“Vaporeon really is the best eeveelution…" He nodded his head along to the thought, his expression one of superior smugness. His mind was working to concoct his next sexual advertisement – maybe something about how the muscles inside his tail would let him massage his Master's cock way better than any pussy, but the train of thought was interrupted by Dale calling him over. The place had been deserted for the last hour, and having swam a few laps himself, he was about ready to close down the pool for the day. He'd be going ahead to the showers.

Perfect.

Fynn had been pushing for months now, and instinct told him that he was on the verge of some sort of development. His Master often looked pensive, and the Pokémon was certain that it was something to do with him. Maybe today would be his breakthrough at last? At the very least, he was going to enjoy himself with a little mischief.

The composition of his body allowed him to melt into water, and the poor drainage in the communal shower space left behind more than enough of a puddle for him to become one with it. While Dale was stripping off his swimming shorts to retrieve some bodywash and a towel, the Vaporeon crept into the space behind him and splooshed into liquid.

“Nice cock, Ma~st~er!" His internal voice crooned as the Human turned around. The tiled space was quite large, lined with a dozen showers with a little roughness to the floor and a central drain at the bottom of an incline that was just a little bit too gentle to be efficient. Now, what to do? It was one thing to appreciate the eye candy, allowing himself a proper visualisation of the maleness that he was hoping would one day dominate him – but just looking didn't do much to progress his pursuit of the man. So, he adopted a drawling voice, “Da~l~e…" It felt more like an impression of a ghost, “This is your internal monologue…"

The man didn't even stop washing himself, leaning his head out of the stream to respond, “I never noticed that my inner voice sounded exactly like Fynn. But go on, me."

Oh? Normally he'd be chased off if he was spying on his Master like this, but Dale seemed to be willing to go along with the joke this time. The puddle quivered in a little celebration, and then continued, “You're in lo~ve with your Vaporeon…" That one he couldn't help, “You want to fuck my- uh, his- throat with your superior Human cock…"

Dale sighed; the heave disguised by the washing of soap from his hair. He should have expected something like this, but his Pokémon always seemed to manage to get the drop on him. It almost felt a little dumb that he was agonising so much over things when their tomfoolery was always like this. He was worrying all the time, but Fynn was just casually propositioning him as usual. Well, maybe it was time for a little revenge? Resolving to play along for a little while until he could find a good moment to perform a reversal, he harrumphed, and in a dry voice responded, “Yes, inner thoughts – I've been in lusting after him for a while now. And after I fucked his throat, I'd definitely pull out so that I could make him turn white."

“Really!?" Their exclamation echoed inside the tiled space, but then composed itself, “Ahem – I knew that. Because I'm you." The puddle quivered again, “If you asked your Vaporeon, he'd definitely agree to do that. You should absolutely ask him. No, you should tell him. No, don't even say anything. Just grab him by the fins and ram-"

“Nah, I don't think he'd go for it. Fynn is a bit of a prude, thinking about it." It was very hard to say that while keeping a straight face, “I don't think he's interested in sex much at all, and he's definitely not interested in me that way…"

“No, no, no, no! He absolutely is!" The movement of the surface of the water was severe enough for Dale to have to pretend not to notice it, “He wants to be your dedicated little slut! He's so interested in you that you're all he can think about!"

Maybe a little explicit, but very Fynn. It was around this point that Dale would normally issue some sort of cutting remark to bring their joking around to a close, and he formulated something suitably devastating but then bit his tongue. Their daily routine had always been like this, and the tension felt to be at breaking point. Maybe this was finally a chance to quiet down some of the thoughts that had been troubling him lately? He swallowed, and then after a few moments spoke, “Well, since I'm just airing out my thoughts…" His fingers came to his chin in an act of thinking, “I do wonder about that sometimes."

“Oh? You- uh, I do?"

“Well…" Maybe he shouldn't say it after all. He'd resolved to just power through, hadn't he? Keep on joking around as normal until Fynn eventually lost interest and moved on. But with this chance right in front of him, Dale buckled, “I'm a pretty bad Master."

“No!" The voice echoed particularly loudly, “You're- I'm the best Master ever!"

Dale shook his head slowly, “That's not true." Well, since he'd gone this far, he may as well go all the way, and he spoke very quickly, “It's not like Fynn is really interested in me. I don't really think he's just joking around, either." An offhanded debunking of their games, “He's just trying to get closer to me because he's scared that I'm going to sell or trade him away. Sometimes I worry if he even likes me at all... If I were a better Master, then he'd believe in me…" The man cringed. Having resolved to always try and show his best self to his Pokémon, this was a devastatingly pathetic moment of weakness. At some point he'd closed his eyes, but after a long period of quiet he finally opened them, “Uh… hello? Inner thoughts?"

The puddle was gone, and in its place was a ruinously angry looking Vaporeon. In this world, it was quite impossible for a Pokémon to harm a Human. Even the thought of such an act would induce a severe nausea, and those few accidents in which a Move harmed a Trainer were vanishingly rare. But even so, the expression on Fynn's face was severe enough for Dale to brace himself against an attack that it was stupid to even imagine coming.

“Master… is an idiot!" He snarled, absent his usual mirth, “I never thought that even for a second! I believed in you from the start!" Fynn advanced, his slightly webbed paws splashing with each step as he moved absent his usual watery finesse, “I like you so much that I can't stand it! I don't mind all of the jokes! I actually kinda like this weird Human courtship ritual we've been doing! But I won't let you think that I don't trust you! I won't let you call yourself a bad Master! You're mine! Nobody else can have you! Master, I choose you!" The corners of his eyes were shining, “Don't make my feelings into nothing by saying that it's just because I'm scared that you're going to throw me away!"

The Vaporeon fumed, his fins quivering and his tail swishing from side to side. At the very least, you could always count on a Pokémon to be true to their feelings, even when as spontaneous as this, “Humans are supposed to be smart! Why are you so dumb!? I thought all I had to do was wear you down and I could have you all to myself in the end, but you got the wrong idea this badly!? Master is an idiot!" They ended their tirade with the same words that started it, panting a little from the explosion of energy and looking like they couldn't quite decide whether to growl like an animal or burst into tears.

Dale swallowed. For Fynn to have blown up like this was so far out of character for the Pokémon that he couldn't possibly have anticipated it. Rather than a blistering admonishment, his expectation was more that he'd be laughed off and called lame. His reeling mind caught up, and in the intake of breath that followed his thoughts worked in overdrive to parse what he'd just heard.

“I'm sorry." His voice was a little weak, and after clearing his throat he repeated, “I'm sorry." It was hard to have such a serious talk while he was naked and backed into the wall of his work shower, but Dale would try his best, “I shouldn't have underestimated you like that. I'm sorry I made light of your feelings when you were trying so hard. Please forgive me."

He always did his best to be a good guy, but getting so caught up in his own virtue had led to some quite severe mistakes, and his words were genuine. Though it was difficult to keep his voice steady when these revelations had his mind reeling. It wasn't anxiety at the prospect of potentially being traded or sold, and it wasn't just a joke either. Fynn really did want him. How could you not hear a confession of desire like that and not feel a little happy even in these circumstances?

Forced to confront his own feelings, Dale had never been able to deny the allure of his Pokémon, but had always combatted any lustful thoughts with the idea that he would have been taking advantage to act on any of them. With that barrier removed, the nature of his feelings towards Fynn were… frankly, confusing. Not the sort of thing that he could work out on the spot, certainly!

“I don't forgive you."

Those words made his blood run cold. But the Vaporeon wasn't cruel enough to let them linger, “But, I will if you make it up to me." Fynn took a deep breath, and shook off the last vestiges of his anger. He had enough awareness to know that he'd dropped a lot on his Master, and the Human was never quick at working things out. And unlike Dale, a Pokémon had no problems with taking advantage of a situation like this. His expression returned to its default level of smugness, “Weren't you having some inner thoughts about getting your dick sucked, Master?"

“T-that's a bit much, isn't it!?" Normally this would be the setup to another joke, but this time Dale was properly backed into a corner and hardly felt that he could make some offhanded remark without undercutting his apology.

Fynn harrumphed, “The price of my forgiveness, for you thinking I didn't trust you, and calling yourself a bad Master, and thinking that I don't have enough agency to choose to want you without it being some sort of desperation move… is getting your dick sucked, Ma~st~er." It was posed in a way that could be interpreted in no way other than insistence.

This Vaporeon really was incorrigible, pouncing on this chance the moment that it had appeared despite the surrounding tension of the moment. Dale closed his eyes and took a breath. It wasn't like they were going all the way, right? And with Fynn chasing off any prospective partners, he'd had quite the dry spell. And even if his feelings in terms of romance were still quite confused, he couldn't deny that there was enough sexual attraction for him to be interested in at least trying something. Maybe this would help him figure something things out? Maybe it would help Fynn figure some things out, too? Or maybe he was just desperately trying to justify to himself that he wanted to do this and needed to find an excuse to support his moral hangups.

“Fine." Maybe he answered a little too quickly, because it won him a small frown, but then he realised that at least a little finesse was required, “I mean, please. I'd like that."

Fynn grinned again, victorious, and appropriately smug, “Well, I would prefer if you grabbed me by the fins and fucked my throat as hard as you can. Pin my head between you and the wall and really be rough with me. Call me a whore and a faggot and insult my inferior little Pokécock. Tell me I'm your Human-owned fuckpet sex slave. But… I suppose this will do for a first time." He gave a small shrug, made adorable by their quadrupedal nature as it transfigured the gesture into something like a little bow, “Can you sit down, Master? I earned this prize and I want to take my time enjoying it!"

Fuck. This was really happening? Dale was hardly a virgin, but there was some level of anxiety to his first time with a Pokémon. And he could hardly compare any of his previous relationships to the level of closeness that he enjoyed with Fynn, either. Humans are supposed to be the dominant ones. He wasn't quite sure if that thought was a complaint that his Pokémon had seized the initiative, or a justification for the absolute filth of their last statement. This time at least, Fynn was in control, and the Human put his back to the wall and slid down it obediently, the warm waterfall of the shower still streaming down from above and plastering his hair over his eyes.

The Vaporeon placed himself directly in front of his Master, able to have their head level with theirs, “Pet me." It was a demand, but there was a slight quaver to the voice, a betrayal of some small amount of nerves from them as well. For Fynn, this wasn't just his first time with a Human, but his first time with anyone, and the weight of needing to perform for the male that he was advertising himself to was quite a large one. From his perspective as a Pokémon, here was the time where he had to prove his worthiness as a prospective mate and show off the skills he'd learned through needing to so regularly take care of his own needs. The touch of his Master always calmed him down, and as Dale raised a hand, his eyes closed in anticipation of bliss.

The blue skin of his cheek was soft to the touch and perfectly frictionless, the slight protrusion of their muzzle assisting in an aquadynamic form. Dale had always found that as the stroke of his thumb wicked away moisture, the touch of them became a little more tangible, but here in the shower there was no hope at all of that. Their flesh was warm, a reflection of the heated water raining down over the two of them, the Vaporeon's heat exceeding his own body temperature enough for him to be overly conscious of their feel at his palm.

A small pink tongue licked his wrist playfully as his fingers trailed back, finding their large side fin and revelling in the change of texture. The rays looked fragile, but under the pressure of his touch there was a rubbery stiffness to them, the membrane of the fins also quite taut. The water-based biology of a Vaporeon made them quite difficult to damage in general, with even these more vulnerable spots able to be repaired through Water Absorb and the fluidification of their form, but the idea of grabbing them here still felt somewhat wrong. The white fin encircling the neck fluttered to the touch, and as he reached beneath it, Dale felt the concealed gills into which the Pokémon could channel water while swimming, along with the heat of lifeblood and the shuddering rhythm of their breaths.

Perhaps a little more intimate than his usual stroking, but the man was struck with a desire to entirely drink in the feeling of this experience, blinking the water from his eyes to watch their usually smug expression melt away into a cloudy-eyed desire that he'd not seen in Fynn before even when walking in on his masturbating. It appealed to his male instincts, a look which could be read as nothing other than desperate want, the neediness of his partner filling him with confidence as his ego swelled.

For Fynn, it was the expected bliss. He purred softly through staggered breaths, allowing himself to surrender entirely to a touch which was becoming more comfortable with each passing moment. He couldn't call this an absolute victory, but it certainly felt like the beginning of a win. Though right now, it was hard to really think straight enough to envision what his next moves would be in seducing his Human. He surrendered to his instinct to submit, taking a step forward to place his head on their shoulder as arms closed around him. Those hands under his fins felt wonderful. If Dale grabbed him there, then even if his body was slick and wet, there would be enough leverage for all sorts of things…

The physical act of submission fuelled his fantasies, and his wavering thoughts found themselves coalescing around anticipated pleasures to come. He was going to suck his Master's cock. He'd finally taste their essence on his tongue. Maybe he could hold it there and walk around savouring it for the rest of the evening? Maybe his Master would command him to swallow and show his empty mouth as proof of his capitulation? Or maybe it would be sprayed over his face so that he could absorb it and become a little paler?

It was hard to think. It was hard to even fantasise. His Human was holding onto him, and however horny the Vaporeon perpetually was, the fulfilment of this embrace sublimated all of it. It was the realisation of this that brought him back to reality with a blink. How wholesome. Too wholesome. He couldn't have his Master thinking that! Fynn was an unrepentant pervert, and he didn't want a tender and loving mating – he wanted to be fucked brutally and degraded as a whore, told that he was an owned slut, a pet, a faggot sex slave bound to his Master's superior masculinity.

His small black nose twitched. He was sure that was what he wanted. So, why had the thought of an intimate mating been the one to bring his aquatic cock entirely from its protective slit? Why was the idea of being held in those powerful arms and kissed in the style of a Human making him pant like a female desperate for an egg? No self-respecting slut could submit to such wholesome sex! He swallowed, “Hey Master, did you know?" The habits of the previous months allowed his thoughts to stabilise into the usual lewd flow, “My body is the perfect size to handle Human dick? My skin is super squishy and soft, and I don't have any fur to hide nipples, either!"

When in doubt, lean into the meme. Dale didn't give any spoken acknowledgement, but his hands did drape lower to explore the Vaporeon's underside to find six small peaks firmly erect beneath them. An evolutionary trait of their more mammalian side, and quite useless on a male. They were kept imperceptible in order to eliminate drag in the water normally, but when aroused he couldn't help but let these small and sensitive nubs surface as minor erogenous zones. Dusky blue in colour, not dissimilar to the other more darkly shaded spots on his body, Fynn let out a small squeak when one of them was tweaked, his right hindleg twitching and his maleness jumping up against his belly to divest itself of a droplet of precum which hung down in a string of submission.

“Master…" It felt like that word had evolved beyond its usual meaning, especially when murred in such a husky tone. The sensation of proximity was overwhelming, nothing but the roaming of hands in what was mostly quite an innocent embrace (barring the nipple tweak, of course), it had brought his arousal to such a peak that he thought he might burst just from this. The Pokémon instinct to submit to humanity was extremely potent, and when melded into sexuality like this, it was possible to achieve the most pathetically servile of orgasms. Or perhaps this part of him was just quite sensitive even for a Vaporeon?

Although blind to them from above Fynn, Dale seemed to have some interest in the three rows of nipples, his fingers trailing back and forth, finding each protrusion in turn and testing the stiffness, drawing out the elasticity, delighting in every squeak and shudder. And so he should. He owned this Pokémon. Every last inch of them. It was his right to manhandle Fynn as he pleased, and the absolute nature of that power dynamic inspired a lecherous glint in the Human's eye that he was glad that his partner could not see. As for what it inspired in Fynn, that would be an untouched climax brought on by nothing but the anticipation of sucking his Master's cock, and the roaming hands that told him that he was so completely owned.

Fynn squeaked pathetically into his Master's shoulder, his body shaking, tail instinctively raising in a demonstration of his submission, chest lowering against his Human as he pressed against them and came hard. The fluids of a Water Type were copious, and even over the sound of the shower cascading down from above, the thin streaks of his essence into the accumulated puddle of water beneath them impacted with a forceful splashing. The consistency of his seed couldn't be called thick, but it came hard and plentiful, his Master holding him through the quake of a shivering bitchgasm.

“Hey Master, did you know?" It was only this format in which he could place his shattered thoughts, “That if I don't suck your cock right now, I think I might go crazy?"

Well, it was hard to stay rational after all of that. Dale had heard that Pokémon generally had quite short fuses, able to cum hard and often – good to go for a lot more rounds than a Human, but he was hardly expecting a little bit of light petting to set off his needy Vaporeon quite so spectacularly. Of course, there was no small measure of pride at being able to have Fynn reach such a submissive and helpless climax in his arms, but above all else, it spoke to his own Human instinct – the part of him that stirred at the natural role of humanity in this world to dominate and control. If he'd a little more courage, he probably would have grabbed those headfins at this point and throatfucked his slutty Vaporeon exactly as they had requested at the start of all this.

The Pokémon withdrew slightly, taking his head from Dale's shoulder to look down a body wrought of the stern musculature of a man that kept to his gym routine well. One forepaw found a thigh, and then the other as well, the pads a little rougher than their otherwise smooth skin, some small amount of membrane between each pawtoe and thick claws pressing down for purchase. The weight of his upper body was hardly significant, the majority of his heft in his tail, but this remained the pin of a Pokémon that had finally locked down the prey he'd sought after for so long.

There was his prize before his eyes, and the fact that Dale was clearly quite aroused himself had the small vestiges of rational thought that the Vaporeon was still capable of joyous in victory. Whatever the Human average was – if there was any correlation between the heft of a cock and body size – Dale was probably a touch above it. A distinctly Human maleness, lightly curved upwards in a way that was sure to punish his bitch button on every thrust, as hard as a Steel Type and rewarding his gaze with a slight twitch of anticipation.

What most drew Fynn's curiosity was what lay below, for his own testes were stored internally and aside from knowing that they were rather vulnerable, the Pokémon didn't quite have much of an idea of how to deal with them. He lowered himself onto his belly, drawing closer, his small nose sniffing and nuzzling into a crest of downy crotch-fur. For a Water Type, the endless cascade of the shower above did nothing to dull his senses, and a thoroughly masculine scent assailed his nostrils. It was enough to make his toes curl, and no small amount of focus was required to prevent that submissive reaction having his claws dig into his Human.

His small pink tongue extended, and he lapped one of the orbs gently, reverent in the motion in his dedication to not cause a single ounce of discomfort to his Master. There was a weight to it, and to apply himself to this part of his Master felt strangely worshipful – so naturally, he set about the act of exploration with aplomb. This was where his Master made his superior Human essence. This was where the seed destined to be fucked down his throat, under his tail, and over his face and body, was made. The source of the male scent that made his mind go numb and his inferior cock stiffen whenever he dove into the laundry hamper to bask in it.

More licks against the loose skin which encased them, and then with the utmost care one was drawn into his mouth, the Human above gasping from the expression of heat. Well, it was a little difficult for Fynn to control his body temperature when he was this worked up, and reflecting the warmth of the shower was the best he could do. Maybe excessive lust had made him a touch hotter than that, but Dale seemed to enjoy it if the intensification of scent and emergence of a droplet of precum at the tip of his cock was any indicator. Damn. The flowing water wicked that away long before Fynn could reach it.

His mouth applied a gentle pressure, his slick tongue a light jostling, and his nose snuffled into this most masculine part for some time, before at last the Vaporeon readied himself to contend with the main event. Fynn couldn't let himself get caught up in his explorations when the goal was to advertise himself as a suitable mate! He wanted Dale to see him as a submissive and servile male, a dedicated whore that wanted to be used and controlled. Fynn swallowed. But… maybe they could be wholesome… sometimes? Just every once in a while. Maybe a kiss or two between the violent throatfucking. Maybe.

The muzzle of a Vaporeon couldn't be called particularly large – scarcely prominent enough to make their face appropriately aquadynamic, but their unique water-based biology allowed them sufficient control over their form to allow the entirety of a large Human cock into their maw without much trouble at all. Fynn let his tongue trail upwards, gathering the traces of precum too thick for the shower water to have entirely washed away, the musk of Dale's potency like lightning through his brain.

It wasn't a taste that could necessarily be called pleasant, but he certainly didn't hate it. Most significant was the effect that the flavour of the essence of a superior male had on his instincts, his hips raising and undertail twitching as an animalistic drive demanded complete submission from him. The addicting quality was undeniable, and drew a throaty moan from the Vaporeon to precede the wrapping of his lips around the broad head of his Master's cock, and the slow sink downwards as a singular motion brought his small black nose into contact with sodden crotch-fur.

His own aquatic cock twitched again, long streaming a line of precum to connect it to the poorly draining puddle of the communal showers. Just the sensation of this long lusted after cock finally arriving in his throat where it belonged was enough to bring him to the brink of another climax. It was never like this when he muzzlefucked himself – though his own cock couldn't compare to that of a Human, and the instincts of submission made him feel like his mind was melting. A hand landed atop his head, a thumb draped around the topmost fin, and that gesture alone forced another orgasm onto the squirming Pokémon.

Their moan was a vibration that stirred a little hum of enjoyment from their Master as well. The Vaporeon bucked his hips into nothing, his seed wasted into the water beneath them. It should be wasted. Every time that he came, his peak was nothing but an announcement of his Master's absolute superiority, and his inferior cum should be evidence to Dale of his absolute submission to the cock that owned him. This is what he was for. Dedicated in every way to his Master. Being used like this was like the whole world slotted cleanly into place.

Two orgasms, and he'd not even tasted cum yet. The Fynn of an hour ago would have scoffed at him (though also been rather impressed). Maybe he'd cum himself empty before his Master was even done with this foreplay? He prayed to Arceus that if he ever was pleasured to oversensitivity that Dale would keep going until he was done anyway. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cum so hard that it hurt.

The malleability of his body allowed him to suckle on the entirety of his Master's length without any impediment to his breathing, and for a while he did exactly that, simply enjoying the mass and the warmth of the cock in his muzzle. Dale had removed his hand at some point, and it felt like permission to move. No, it felt like a command to move. Fynn's inferior Pokémon cock twitched again at that thought, and he slowly drew back his head. With only the tip of their maleness past his lips, his tongue was a grateful lap over the emerging droplet of precum. It was right to be grateful. He should be thankful to his Master. And with a little more pressure, he lowered himself again all the way to the hilt.

Fynn may be a virgin, but he had plenty of practice doing this to himself. As a Water Type, he tended to make quite a mess, and suckling down his own essence did away with the cleanup. Of course, he'd imagine that it was his Master – and he'd even made an ice facsimile of a Human cock to perfect his technique on from one time he'd managed to glimpse Dale's morning wood. But it was difficult to recall any of that right now. His motions couldn't be called sloppy, but Fynn had checked out completely at this point and placed his instincts into the driving seat. Those instincts demanded only that he suckle desperately and reverently at this cock to the satisfaction of his Master.

The eroticism of this situation alone demanded of Dale that their satisfaction arrive sooner rather than later. Looking down, his fists placed at either side of his body as he leaned back on his wrists for support, the misty-eyed lust of his Pokémon was focused squarely upon his maleness. Their paws were so cute on his thighs, clenching and unclenching, his tail up high and swaying, his small muzzle wrapped around a vulgar Human cock. He may not quite have unravelled the mystery of his feelings yet, but he knew that this view alone was the most alluring glimpse of his life.

A small growl was born in his throat, an announcement for his own impending orgasm, and a little flicker of the Vaporeon's fins served as acknowledgement of the fact. Fynn had demanded this encounter, and considering the sheer quantity of lewd monologues that Dale had suffered through, it only felt right that the horny Pokémon decide where this cumshot was going.

Fynn's mind was foggy white, too drowned in lust to properly make up. Down his throat? Pooled onto his tongue? Over his face? His Master had liked playing with his underside, maybe he should present his belly so that the Human could stripe his nipples? Should he put their maleness alongside his own so that he could show off how pathetic his smaller Pokécock was in comparison? Or maybe he should just raise his tail and beg for that precious essence to be buried deep inside him where it belonged?

He'd not found a solution by the time that Dale gave a slight growl and the cock in his muzzle throbbed to deliver its essence into his muzzle right at the top of a manoeuvre. His lips immediately formed a seal, his throat bobbing as he suckled down their essence, his mouth filled and emptied with a voluminous cumshot that overwhelmed his senses with the taste, scent, and feel, of musky Human seed.

Fynn came so hard that he nearly fainted.

Just as he had predicted, the orgasm of his precious Master on his tongue was enough to set him off, a third climax nothing spectacular in terms of numbers for a Pokémon. But the intensity of it was huge, a bodyrocking pleasure that sublimated all conscious thought into nothing but instinctual submission. He'd hoped to show off Dale's seed on his tongue as a display of his dedication to his Master, but from the moment that a single droplet reached his muzzle, he could do nothing but gulp it down like a true cumslut.

It was quite some time before he finally withdrew, long enough for Dale's cock to have started to diminish, released with some final worshipful licks and a soft kiss against the underside of the shaft. Finding his mind again as the fog lifted, Fynn opened his maw wide anyway to show that it was clean, sticking out his little pink tongue playfully and then stepping back to smile. Dale was quiet, but the lustful Pokémon would not allow any awkward silence to settle, “Hey Master, did you know?" That had his Human blink back into focus from his own post-climax daze, “…that you can have sex with a Vaporeon for hours without getting sore?" Always the meme, “I'm ready for you to mou-"

But he got no further as the sound of a door opening in the adjoining locker room broke the spell of arousal. Dale leapt to his feet, grateful that he'd had enough time to go soft, grabbing his bodywash as he rose – while Fynn dropped onto his belly to hide what was doubtless still a needy Pokémon maleness. The two had lost track of time, and while the pool may be long closed, now was the time for the gym itself to shut down as well. Soon the space was filled with the remaining male staff, and after finishing the shutdown process of the space, a Human and Pokémon grateful not to have been caught, made their exit and set off home.

Normally Fynn would be withdrawn to his Pokéball during their commute, the streets of Wesson Town packed – but a long shift and the following events had brought them late enough into the evening for the Vaporeon to comfortably walk alongside his Master. And the awkward silence which had been so expertly avoided in the aftermath of their encounter finally had opportunity to settle.

“Hey Master, did you know?-"

“We'll talk when we get home." Dale cut off their banter with a tone that spoke only in absolutes. His gaze was fixed firmly forwards, and the lack of attention in his eyes revealed how much his mind was spinning. It was enough to draw a harrumph from his Pokémon, but Fynn still obeyed, loping along in a significantly more carefree headspace.

The truth was, Fynn was overjoyed. As far as he could see it, he'd finally managed to tear down a barrier between himself and his Master, enjoyed three submissive orgasms, guzzled down the seed he'd been lusting after for so long, and with a little more seduction was sure to get the ruinous mating that he dreamed of. And maybe a more wholesome one as well. If they'd not been interrupted by those other Humans, he probably would have been able to capitalise on the moment and get Dale to roughly fuck him right there in the showers.

He looked up, scanning his Master's face, and then he sighed. No. He couldn't let himself be too complacent and carefree after all. That was Master's thinking face. Or rather, it was the face that his Master made when he was agonising over something. Had he gotten the wrong idea again? Humans were always putting up walls between themselves and what they wanted, and to a Pokémon it was baffling. If his Master wanted to mate him, then his Master should just tell him to raise his tail, line up his cock, and fuck him until he was done!

Well, this wouldn't do at all. There was a very light drizzle, but his Vaporeon gift to predict the weather told him with a twitch of his fins that it was going to taper off rather than become another storm. The sky was dark, and the glowing neon of the nightlights and the music of activity brought some excitement to the pit of his stomach. There was plenty that Fynn could do. Sometimes making a big move could backfire, especially when it came to Humans. But if today had shown him anything, it was that no matter how much Fynn had enjoyed their joking around Human courtship ritual – if he wanted results, then he'd need to take matters into his own paws.

Fynn headbutted his Master's leg to get their attention, breaking whatever train of thought had been putting such a painful look on his face, “Master! Come with me!"

The Vaporeon wished that there was some sort of grand romantic spot that held a deep significance to the two of them, but no place so convenient existed. That's where this sort of thing always happened on those Human movies that played on the magic box in the corner of their nest. But aside from being a talking Pokémon, there wasn't really anything that exceptional about their shared story. In the end, Fynn was just another Pokémon that had fallen in love with his Master. But he was blessed with being able to communicate that more clearly than anything but the most well-honed Psychic Type. He'd never really put a tremendous amount of thought into that fact, but now for the first time, he said a little prayer to Arceus in thanks for this gift.

He hardly had a destination in mind, but was thankful that his Human was following him at least. What was nearby? The train station was always packed with Humans, and the town centre was the same. Going back home would defeat the point. The gym was closed. The lake was too far away. In the end, the best that Fynn could come up with was a small park, abandoned for the late hour and the rain. But at least there was a bench overlooking the pond – and a little privacy.

Fynn leapt atop the wood, rearing up so that he could get his gaze level with his Master, “Hey Master, did you know?" Of course, there was no way to do it other than this, “That I love you."

It was the first time that it had been said explicitly, not as part of a joke or as an offhanded comment, but directly to his face with a look that was deadly serious despite the meme delivery. It was enough to shock a little clarity back into the Human, and Dale blinked himself to attention.

His head had been spinning with some dark thoughts. Had he allowed himself to get carried away in the moment? Maybe it would have been better to turn Fynn down. How did he even feel about his Pokémon? What they did together was probably a bad idea. What was he supposed to do now?

“Hey Master, did you know?" They spoke again, “That I want you to be my mate."

How was he supposed to make such an earnest Vaporeon happy? Dale wanted to be a good guy, but wasn't he just taking advantage of him? Of course, he'd acknowledged Fynn's will and wouldn't write off his feelings, but would it be right to accept them? Was this being a 'good steward'?

“Hey Master, did you know?" It was communication that suited Fynn, “That I don't want to share you with anyone else, not even other Pokémon. I want you all to myself."

Dale realised that he'd slowly been turning red despite the cold of the Spring night. It was a confession that didn't leave any room for doubt. Of course, he loved him, too. Hearing Fynn's feelings so clearly made the unveiling of his own almost instinctive, and he amazed himself that when he'd considered it earlier it hadn't been so immediately obvious. But would this be best for Fynn? Would returning his love really make him happy? A Human and a Pokémon were fundamentally different, in thought and feeling, in instinct and form. However well those two halves fit together, could he ever really say that they fully understood each other? Wouldn't a relationship with Dale be denying his Vaporeon the chance to have a mate that could see the world the same way as him?

“Hey Master, did you know?" Fynn spoke as if reading his mind, “That I know you like me, too – and if you're about to say something stupid about giving up on me for my own good, then I will be very, very, very, cross!"

That achieved a smile. And then a snort, “You really can see right through me." No, he should do this properly, “Hey Vaporeon, did you know?" Did that even work when he did it in reverse? At this point, Dale didn't really care. His hesitation fell away as all of the ambiguous pieces of his relationship with his precious Pokémon fell into place, “I love you, too. I want you to be my mate. I want to have you all to myself and all that other stuff, as well."

What a difference a day can make. This morning was like any other, but over the course of the last few hours, Fynn had finally achieved victory! His smug expression gave way to a beaming joy, and his hindlegs shuffled in a little dance. This moment was incredibly mushy, a romantic spot of intimacy that they'd undoubtedly look back on and cringe, making grand declarations of love in a rundown little park halfway home from their commute. But a dumb bit of normalcy like this fit them well, and they both knew it.

They kissed. And it was a very Human one, made messy through Fynn's inexperience and a muzzle that was never meant for this sort of interaction. Of course, it was everything that the Vaporeon had imagined that it would be – and precisely the excuse needed for things to take the carnal turn that he was hoping for. His plan up to this point may have been to slowly wear down his Master until he returned his feelings and became his mate – but there was no way that he was letting things end now with only the foreplay that they'd enjoyed in the showers!

He moaned into his Human. No, his mate. No, his dominant male. No, his Master. But Master didn't mean the thing that it meant before. Now it was all of these things, and even thinking the word was like a reminder of the submission of his place. Fynn belonged to this person. How was it possible to feel anything but comfort when you were the absolute property of superior masculinity? All that he needed to do was bow. All that Dale needed to do was command him.

Well, that part might take a bit of practice. Dale certainly had it in him, but seemed a little reticent in exerting the absolute authority that the Vaporeon craved to be placed under. Maybe one day he'd be able to reach a point when just his Master telling him to cum would be enough to compel an orgasm from him? Of course, he was already submissive enough to climax at the taste of their seed and the feel of their cock in his muzzle – but Fynn hoped to be trained to the point that even the presence of his Master would be enough for him to need to fight the instinct to raise his tail!

Thoughts like that would probably be baffling to Dale and his Human way of thinking. But there would be plenty of time to make him understand. Little by little. But… it didn't mean that the cuddling and the kissing, and these sweet intimate little moments had to stop either. His Master could figure the balance out. That sort of intuitive thinking wasn't really suited to a Pokémon that acted more directly towards their wants. Maybe they could work a way out to fit their pieces together. Fynn was sure they could.

“Ma~st~er… if you keep doing that, then you're going to have to mate me right here on this bench…" Dale looked like he was ready to do exactly that, but Fynn was quicker, “And if we fucked here, then we couldn't go at it for as long as I need to be satisfied…"

Sometimes getting Dale to do what he wanted was easier than expected, because in the wake of those words the two of them hurried back to their nest with the wide strides and energetic lope of a pair quite desperate to return home. At the entrance to their building, they passed the mysterious Mr. Wo that lived on the lower floor, who seemed somewhat amused by them despite no outward sign of their intent, and it was only minutes later that they had made it inside. Rooms flashed by, clothing was torn away, Fynn was in the arms of his Human, and then he was slammed onto his back, squirming into the mattress in the bedroom of their nest.

Large equipment for mating was something of an evolutionary disadvantage to Pokémon, a race for which battles were a fundamental part of their existence. The breasts of a Lopunny or Lucario (in those rare mammalian species that had such things) were small enough to be concealed by fur, a Gardevoir might use psychic interference to mask their genitals, and a great many other techniques existed to minimise the presentation of vulnerable parts. For males, sheath and orbs were often guarded by thick groin fur, or a protective slit as in the case of Vaporeon. Though, a more complete control of his water-based cellular structure allowed Fynn to eliminate every sign that he was even a male from his body for extra aquadynamic glide when needed. Naturally, since he was aroused now, the pinned Vaporeon was fully on display, squirming on his back beneath the lecherous gaze of Dale, the Human looming over him.

The cock of a Pokémon could never measure up against a Human, even larger species like an Aggron or Tyranitar would scarcely be able to compete. Naturally, the aquatic maleness sported by a much smaller Vaporeon was scarcely enough to fill a Human hand, but Fynn was quite happy with that, enjoying the thought that his dominant male was superior in yet another way. His equipment was distinctly alien, as pink as his tongue, smooth and tapered upwards to a point – it reminded Dale of a tentacle. Unable to resist, he caught it between his first finger and thumb, finding the surface to be slick, as if some particularly fine lube had been applied.

“Hey Master, did you know?" The horny Pokémon crooned, “That my undertail is just as slippery as well? And the muscles inside my tail can squeeze your perfect cock better than any pussy. But if you really want it, then I'm sure with enough training, you'll be able to fuck my slit. I'd like that. I like the thought of you bullying my inferior little Pokédick with your proper Human cock. Then you can breed my male-pussy and tell me that you're fucking an egg into me, and…"

Fynn was rambling, finding that he was going on a little more than usual in this oddly nervous moment. Thrown onto his back, his quadrupedal nature made him quite vulnerable, and the eyes of his Master were like those of a predator evaluating their feast. He'd worn them himself back when he was a wild Eevee and he'd cornered his prey. It made him gulp. But it also made him feel wanted, and being lusted after was cause for happiness.

A hand was resting on his midriff, and it moved again to glide over the three pairs of nubs that dotted his lower underside. His Master really seemed to like these. With his body bunched up like this, Dale found that there was a little more give to them than expected, and took his time fondling his Pokémon, pinching and rolling each nub between his fingers, amused by how the groping motion seemed to quicken the breaths of his Vaporeon and have their small cock leak all the more precum onto their stomach. He'd already cum once from this mildest stimulation of what could scarcely be called an erogenous zone on a male, but there was all the more enjoyment in the sight of it when Dale was able to look down and watch their small cock erupt without his view impeded.

And erupt it did, right on que. Pokémon really did have something of a hair-trigger. There was a wonderful feeling of empowerment to having his Vaporeon cum so easily, his fingers roughly drawing at each nipple to the limits of their elasticity, each motion coming with its own small stuttering whine, every exhalation a whorish moan. It was hard to look at Fynn as anything other than a deeply erotic creature at this point, and the pathetic little upwards thrusts of his hindlegs into the air were wonderfully pathetic.

Maybe he could get his head around this sort of domination play after all?

His Pokémon wore a melted expression, his eyes slightly glazed as submissive instinct and lust for pleasure enslaved him to the Human that was making sport of him. This time, it wasn't his place to be proactive in their mating as he had when he'd wrapped his muzzle around Dale's cock. This time, all that he needed to do was surrender himself to be used, to be mastered by his Human. This is what he was for. And he wanted nothing more than it. Acceptance of that was absolute bliss.

It was a reality that was beginning to dawn upon Dale as well, and his acknowledgement of his role came in the form of a more forceful fondling of the creature beneath him. He couldn't say that he was interested in being too rough, and Fynn might have to tone down his expectations if he ever hoped that his Master was going to be violent with him – but the Human would demonstrate his ownership by making his authority over their body absolutely clear.

From the Vaporeon's belly, he slid his thumb through the pooled essence of their submission, examining the watery seed for a few moments curiously. Well, owning all of Fynn meant owning this as well. He licked up the thin liquid and evaluated the taste, finding that it had all of the expected qualities – a slight muskiness to it, of course – but seemed as subdued as it was copious, quite different to a Human. Intrigued, he leaned down, draping his tongue over the accumulated mess of their belly and licking upwards.

“Master – I'm supposed to do that for you!"

It was a complaint that he was deaf to. According to Pokémon logic, didn't Dale have the right to do whatever he wanted with his Vaporeon anyway? He may be a top, but there was no way that the man was giving up some of the foreplay of mating that was so enjoyable. When spread thinly, the thin essence seemed to be absorbed into Fynn's body, but why lament that when there was more to be drawn from the source? Well, he'd get to that after a little longer capturing these small nubs between his teeth and making his submissive male twitch and squeak.

Before long, his questing tongue found the base of their aquatic cock, curiously delving into the slight give of the slit from which it emerged. For that, the response was electric, his Pokémon unable to resist a small and frantic upwards buck of the hips that came accompanied by a dull whine. He looked up to see that the Vaporeon was covering his face with his forepaws, and the adorable sight made him want to further corrupt a creature that was already quite depraved. There was a strange quality to the abundant fluids of this distinctly inhuman cock – their natural lubrication was a thin layer of watery precum against a maleness so smooth that it was near frictionless. A female Water Type would probably have to have quite the internal muscles to get much pleasure out of that, and Dale found himself wondering about that earlier claim from Fynn about the squeeze of his tail. Well, he'd find out before long.

For now, he placed his hands inside his Pokémon's thighs, their hindlimbs helpless in the air, and he engulfed a cock that was scarcely large enough to fill his mouth. The response was immediate, despite even the small amount of pressure and an unrefined technique on this small and inhuman maleness, Fynn was moaning with such volume and intensity that in any other situation his Master would have accused him of putting it on as a joke. Every exhalation was a lascivious gasp, his voice a stuttering moan accompanied by the impotent thrashing of his small body. Orgasm came immediately, and Dale savoured his prize for only a few moments before drooling most of it out onto the belly of his Pokémon, able to watch more of their essence absorbed.

He released one hindleg, resting that freed hand at the base of their tail and leaning back to examine the twitching opening that was placed there. Pokéballs had a purification feature which cleansed a Pokémon inside and out, and there was hardly any danger of filth as a result, quite the benefit when it came to these sorts of engagements. Slowly, forcefully, he twisted two fingers into his Vaporeon, angling upwards to find a bitch button a little further in than he might have discovered on a Human. Good. All the better for his cock to crush into submission.

His mouth returned to their small pokécock, and finding a gentle rhythm between the probing of his fingers and the pressure of his maw, Dale began the slow ruin of his Vaporeon.

“Master… Master… Master!" It was the only word that Fynn was able to formulate, and between his whorish moans he vocalised his submission in that repeated outcry. What else could he do? His Master was toying with him, learning the intricacies of this body that belonged to him. Of course, his Master should be the one completely in command of his pleasure! It was his right to drown him in ecstasy, to break his mind into this white-hot sensation of bliss.

In his fantasies, he had simply been used by his Master, but now that he was in the moment of being forced to orgasm by the twisting press of fingers into his bitch-button, and the idle suckling of a maw that would drool every bit of his submission back onto his belly to be absorbed by his flesh, this type of mastery proved far more to his tastes. It was one thing to be fucked into subservience, but quite another to be twisted by pleasure into the sort of servility that would have his tail flag high at the approach of his Master, his cock draped beneath him in anticipation of pleasure, and worshipful praise on his tongue.

Yes. He moaned again, a wave of pleasure that seemed to begin in the ends of his claws and flow back to his core in another chained climax. This was the joy of being dominated by a superior male, every orgasm proof of submission, every moan applause, the twitch of his undertail and the bullying of his lesser cock – there was no greater joy than this!

Well… maybe that wasn't entirely true.

Unrepentant slut though Fynn was, and with plenty of designs in his head for the sort of depravity down the line that would have his Master choke when he requested it – he couldn't say that he hated the more wholesome lovemaking either. There was more to this moment than pleasure and submission, and the warmth of his chest spoke of something that had always been absent when he'd tended to his carnal urges by himself.

“Master… Master!" It was hard to think straight when his insides were seizing up around those fingers that destroyed his inner spot of submission, and his mind seemed to be leaking out from his pathetic pokécock, “I need… I need!"

It didn't take a Psychic Type to figure out what his Vaporeon wanted. Dale had been at this for a while now, amazed by the Pokémon capability to chain orgasms even for a male when he himself would be done with two at best. How many times had he felt the crush of Fynn's internal muscles around his fingers? How many times had he drooled their orgasm over their belly? He thought that it might have been sufficient to turn Fynn white, just as he had always joked, but it seemed that Pokémon essence was just a little bit too thin. Well, it looked like it would be down to him after all.

He released the Vaporeon, and crawled over them, finding their forepaws pressed against his chest as he crushed the smaller Pokémon beneath him, his much larger maleness draped alongside theirs. Dale looked down into the misted eyes of his mate and watched them slowly clear as clarity returned in this small break from the ruin of forced pleasure, seeing their gaze drift down to the size comparison on display and their throat move in a slight gulp.

Pinned on their back and helpless, the submission of this most basic of positions remained enough for Fynn to squirm with need. His Master had drawn back his hips and lined up his cock, “Hey Master, did you know?" He'd started up without thinking, but now it seemed almost pointless to finish. What could he say about the pleasure that he could offer that his Master didn't already know? What dedication could he proclaim that wasn't already expected? What confession of love remained unsaid? “I need you to… please…" Be gentle? Be rough? Fuck me? Breed me? Ruin me? “Kiss me."

What sort of self-respecting human-owned, cumslut whore sex slave, could say that!? It was one thing to be open about being in love with his Master, and they'd kissed then as well – but if he wasn't careful, then Dale would start to think that he was wholesome! Though, with the force by which Dale pressed his lips to those of his Vaporeon, dominating their muzzle with his tongue and devouring his mate – maybe he was a little wholesome himself as well.

Though there was no time to think about that when the motion was accompanied by the sheathing of his cock beneath Fynn's tail in a single stroke made possible only by the extreme slickness of his insides. The Vaporeon whined through his small nose, his aquatic cock straining upwards in an immediate submissive orgasm, the act of being claimed alone sufficient to bring him over the edge. His Master grunted as the strong muscles of their tail clamped down hard on his masculinity, giving pleasure to the frictionless glide of an overabundance of lubrication.

Dale had felt nothing like it. A rippling motion passed down his cock, a squeeze accompanied by the slight upwards twitch of that finned tail beneath him. There was so little friction that thrusting was of very little effect, yet pleasure was found in abundance with every movement of his Pokémon's tail. A flowing motion like a wave sent a squeeze down his maleness, a twist to the side was like a grasping vice, and a passive partner that had been his toy for all of this foreplay began to return pleasure in earnest and desperate motions.

For the Vaporeon, the heat of the grander male, the rigidity of his cock, and the crush that each ripple of his own inner muscles that the movements of his tail wrought, all combined to dominate his bitch-button completely. His Master sublimated his whorish moans, devouring them in their wet and messy kiss, bullying his muzzle into aching submission while his superior Human cock fucked his core into a servility which compelled the raising of his hips and the pathetic ropes of Pokémon essence to spray his belly.

Strong abdominals pressed down from above, massaging the slick of his futile seed into his belly, dragging over those six sensitive nubs, but most of all, the cage of Dale's body over him gave the same sense of comfort as his Pokéball. How could he not feel completely possessed when all that he could see, hear, smell, taste, and feel, was his precious Master? He was a willing whore, a servant to his Master's pleasure – and every movement of his tail, the reciprocation of their kiss, the twitch of his paws against their chest, the surrender of his essence between them – it was every inch reverence for their domination. A passive whore was an unworthy submissive, and his Master deserved the worship of his body.

Dale snarled into their kiss. The pleasure was too much, the heat and intimacy of this moment, the adulation of his worshipful submissive, and the empowerment of his own position of dominance. Instinct screamed at him to possess this creature beneath him, to fuck his Pokémon into ruin and bind them to him forever as his willing whore. He remembered his thought from earlier that day – how convenient it would be if his relationship could be resolved by simply telling Fynn that he was his possession for life and fucking him until he believed it.

He probably didn't even need to use those words anymore.

There was nowhere for his orgasm to go but deep inside his Vaporeon, his cock hilting, his orbs twitching as Dale came harder than he ever had in his life, delivering a copious load of his own into the core of his Pokémon. Fynn joined him in a shared climax, despite having had another only moments ago – an orgasm demanded of him not by the accumulation of pleasure, but through the instinctual submission of being claimed in this final and most significant way. He was the possession of a grander male, and his body responded to this mark of ownership with a whiting of the mind and end of conscious thought.

Fynn forgot to breathe, finding air again only from the shock of having his Master drag his cock from his hollowed out undertail to enjoy the sight of their gaped and leaking opening. But not for long. Dale growled like an animal, flipping his Vaporeon onto his belly, pinning his instinctively raised tail under his body, and with a cock that had lost none of its rigidity, immediately beginning to thrust from above, claiming him like a feral creature of his own species.

This was more like it! The sway of his body manipulated the tail crushed between them, granting Dale control over the muscular contractions which had previously been within the purview of the Vaporeon. Fynn could do nothing but whimper into the pillow as from this position, his Master had complete agency to fuck him entirely as he liked. So, he did. Until every ounce of seed had been mated out of the Vaporeon, and his submissive bitchgasms became nothing but the dry twitching of an exhausted pokécock.

Something had awoken inside of Dale, some element of instinctive dominance as strong as Fynn's submission, and the Human was overwhelmed by it. He pinned his mate down and fucked their undertail until satisfaction found him again, his load sprayed over their back and his cock cleaned by a grateful tongue. He chugged an energy drink to recover, all the while using his fingers to stir the insides of a submissive Pokémon whore that would be allowed no rest – their only hydration would be superior Human essence drank down from the cock that owned him.

He forced Fynn into the same seductive pose he'd taken as a joke earlier that day and had him beg to be mated that way. He took his weight and pinned him to the wall, crushing his small body and fucking enough essence into his desperate hole that it would come to slowly drip down his long, finned tail before it could be absorbed. He fucked their throat precisely as they had demanded, his fingers gripping at their fins, their body placed belly-up so that he could watch the bulge advance down their neck, and his orgasm sprayed over their face. Compelled by instinct, near-tireless, an affirmation of everything that had been so long building between the two of them was given form and fulfilled.

It was dawn when their rut finally gave way to exhaustion, and it wasn't until the following afternoon that they awoke, cuddled together with the bedroom an absolute mess around them. Having adopted the perfect temperature, Dale's Vaporeon was resting his head over his Master's chest, his expression perhaps a little bit too smug, all things considered. He may have lost control a little there, but from what he could tell, Fynn had been more than happy to urge him on, and he expected some of their usual banter to soon be coming.

But, it was difficult to keep a smug smirk off his own face, now. Of course, he was happy. There was a fulfilment of all things slotting into place, a hole that he'd never really noticed being filled, and the comfort of resolution. His life with Fynn probably wouldn't change that much, considering how close they had always been. He would still do his best to be a worthy steward. He still wanted to be a good man for his precious partner. And he made a promise to himself to make sure that their life together was a peaceful one. But really, there was a more obvious reason as to why he was grinning so smugly.

His Vaporeon had turned white after all.

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Well, this ended up a tiny bit more wholesome than expected. I hope that you all enjoyed this story (I had quite a lot of fun writing it). Anyone that's reading my work for the first time and is interested in this setting and take on Pokemon smut, you might enjoy The Pokemon Breeding Guide if you'd like to see more.

Special thanks to FreedomTaleTrio who gave the idea for this piece (though I've deviated a little from the concept you suggested, I hope you enjoyed it still!). Also, thanks to Saxton and CapitalC for pitching ideas for one-shots and support. Johnnd1988 for the encouragement as always. Etnom1 for copious fluids and being as awesome as ever. Cyril Dran for reminding me to relax some (I appreciate it!). Julius Ursus for making me think about paws and water melding. And AdvancedCBMaster for cheering on the duo!

I'm very grateful for the support that I recieved when I posted about putting this one-shot together, and really want to say thank you to everyone that dropped a comment, threw on a vote, and faved - every last view as well. I worked hard on this one, and hope it landed well. I'm really grateful for every interaction on my work, and it wouldn't be possible to make these stories without you. I hope that the completed story was to your liking! As for what's next - my schedule over summer is pretty packed, so I won't be able to update as quickly as I have been up until recently. I'm somewhat torn between powering through to get more Pokemon Breeding Guide chapters out, starting up a Palworld series - or making some more one-shots like this. I figure that this is a good opportunity to ask about Pokemon one-shots - so, what would you like to see? I'm interested to hear any concepts, lewd scenes, and pairings. Most of what I produce is sourced from the comments, and I enjoy writing to your prompts. While I can't use everything, even the stuff that I can't put on a page helps me to think, and I'm very grateful to you all (especially the familiar faces).

Have a most excellent day.