FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Objectively speaking, Flare was a complete failure of a Typhlosion. Her Nature was suboptimal, and her IVs about as low as they possibly could be. She had absolutely no sense for battle, was too clumsy to function as a Working Pokémon, and with a little more pudge around the middle than most of her kind, even her looks were below average. She was a slothful creature who best enjoyed reclining into her beanbag chair and watching the moving pictures displayed on the side of the magic box positioned in the corner of the small lair she shared with her Master. Despite being an entirely domesticated Pokémon, Human society was still strange enough to her for words like 'apartment' and 'television' to not entirely mesh with her instincts, though her wild sensibilities were not quite strong enough for her to rebel at the title of 'pet'. Rather, she accepted the role quite wholeheartedly.

Pride as a Typhlosion? Dignity as a female? What were these things? Were they tasty? Maybe the sorts of Pokémon that espoused such ideals would reexamine their morals if they knew the pleasure of devouring an entire bucket of ice-cream while binge-watching a procedural drama. Did the wild Pokémon of the mountains even know what cookie dough was? If they found out, she imagined that capture rates would increase tenfold overnight. Flare was entirely shameless in her desires, just as a Pokémon should be. It was quite a pity though, that her greatest drives were for bad television, a comfy chair, and belly rubs from her Master, rather than for anything productive.

If she was honest with herself (and she rarely was), there was a little more to it than all that. She had tried before. Done her very best, in fact. But when she cooked for her Master, she burnt everything. An attempt to launder his clothes had resulted in a small housefire. She lost every battle she fought as a Warrior Pokémon by a margin that was frankly embarrassing, even against much lower-level opponents. In fact, one time, she was even beaten by a Metapod. Somehow. And the less said about her singular attempt to make it as a Contest Pokémon, the better. How was she supposed to know that a mating presentation was not what the judges meant by the word 'appeal'? The memory resulted in a small harrumph and a little pout. At least her Master seemed to appreciate her effort, turning rather red and looking away, but also rewarding her with a hearty thumbs-up. Could it be that she was quite pretty after all? If her Master thought so, then it must be true. That settled it. Yes, it did.

After all of that, she had simply given up and accepted that she was useless. But, rather than be depressed about it, she found that it was like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. What an idiot she had been, making all of that effort. If her Master had decided that she was a Companion Pokémon, then a pet was precisely what she was! She was just obeying him, like a good Pokémon should, and not at all using those lofty words as an excuse to brush over her failings and shamelessly laze around all day, lording it over her friends that had to work. Anyone that dared suggest such a thing would receive a piece of her mind, and Flare was at least confident in her sharp tongue.

Her Master, a man called Christopher, was (perhaps ironically) a Firefighter, though in their small and peaceful Wesson Town, he spent most of his time performing tedious safety inspections rather than engaging in heroics. Good. The magic box informed her that it could be quite a dangerous profession, and if anything ever happened to her Master, then Flare thought that she just might burn the whole world down. He'd always return from his work looking drained, but the haggard expression would turn peaceful when he saw her loafing around on her giant beanbag. Apparently, seeing her so relaxed never failed to put him at ease, and he doted on her plenty.

Was this perhaps what it meant to be a kept woman? Flare pondered that on occasion, though her sense of aesthetics was a strange mishmash of Pokémon instincts and the window of Human insight that was television – for that reason, she couldn't say that she was entirely interpreting that idea correctly. At the very least, she accepted fundamentally that she was her Master's possession, and if she really examined that position, then it could be said that she also accepted him as her dominant male. He looked after her and kept her comfortable. If she were in the wilds (and she never had been), and he was also a Typhlosion (which he obviously wasn't), then she imagined that her role probably would have been that of an egg-factory. Which was a very alluring thought, and had served as the favourite fantasy to which she sated her breeding urges while her Master was away at work.

She wasn't quite sure how her Master would react if he ever found out that he was the person she was always thinking of while grinding her steaming pussy against her favourite beanbag chair. Deeper fantasies often emerged from that train of thought, inspired by the nonsensical plotlines of her soap operas, but he was always at the heart of these scenarios however ludicrous they became. She definitely wasn't bored and horny. She was imaginative and had a healthy sex drive. At least, that's what she usually told herself after a few gushing femgasms restored some clarity of sense to her. A pervert? Her? Absolutely not! Maybe you were the pervert for making such an assertation?

It couldn't really be denied at this point that she lusted after her Master. According to the magic box, those Humans that engaged in such relationships with their Pokémon were a very tiny minority of people, and there were all sorts of social stigma attached. Pokémon naturally submitted to Humans, and Humans naturally held a sense of authority over Pokémon. So, there were plenty of arguments to be made that it was irresponsible or even abusive for Humans to take advantage of their position of power, even if a Pokémon that belonged to them truly wished for it. Those sort of arguments made Flare's head hurt, and she usually changed the channel if ever anything like that came on. Only Humans would make mateship that complicated. How was it anything other than a natural matter of course for her to thrust up her haunches and present herself to the male that kept her safe and comfortable?

Not that she had, of course, that little Contest fiasco aside. Not yet. She had been working up the courage to. She had a plan and everything. Promise. Procrastinating? You take that back! Flare harrumphed again as she called to mind some imagined listener that might have called her out for her self-serving inner monologue. She had a whole list of (totally reasonable) excuses. She needed to lay more groundwork. Wait for the right mood and moment. Crack the password to his computer so that she could research his tastes. Or maybe she could ask a Psychic Type for help with that? Anyway, she was almost ready. But then, her world had been rocked by two momentous events.

The first of which was that her Master had received a bit of an ultimatum from the Pokémon Centre delivered by a lady nurse with a scary face. Flare imagined that she would lose in a fight against this woman even if it were possible for a Pokémon to harm a Human, so after that fateful checkup, she had dutifully bowed her head next to her Master and kept quiet, playing innocent and letting him take the brunt of a rather severe telling off. Truly she was a tactical genius.

Flare was apparently in need of a little more exercise and a little less ice-cream. Humans were indeed insane. Didn't they know that a bit of pudge was a mark of her success as a hunter? Not that she had ever hunted anything even once in her life. Damn that nurse! Now, there was a padlock on the fridge, and she was compelled to travel to this awful place called a 'gym'. Not a Pokémon Gym where she could make a bit of a token effort at fighting, then receive a consolation dinner treat from her Master on the way home. But a Human Gym that following a recent refurbishment had opened up many of the facilities for Pokémon.

She now slowly loped along on a treadmill, her wide hips swaying from side to side behind her as she stared into her reflection in the whole wall of mirrors ahead. Hell. This was surely hell. She had died and gone to the Distortion World. Typhlosion may be quadrupedal in configuration, but she had some capability to operate in an upright posture, broadening the variety of training devices at her disposal and deepening her despair. Behind her, the large space was filled with various machines, weights, benches, resistance straps, and a whole manner of things that she had no clue how to use or even identify. A Machoke was flexing between sets of bicep curls, a nearby Raboot doing some squats, and plenty of other Pokémon were making use of the facilities, and Flare was sure that every last one of them was watching her and laughing.

Not necessarily because she was rather out of shape, but because of the second of the two momentous events that had recently rocked her peaceful existence. A certain snippet of ancient folklore had entered the cultural zeitgeist and propelled her species to the cutting edge of memedom. It made her want to scream. Some ancient Typhlosion had apparently kidnapped, held captive, and knocked up a young Human girl. It was nonsense, of course. In this world, Pokémon and Humans couldn't interbreed, and it was impossible for a Pokémon to harm a Human, too. But, according to the magic box, there tended to be some sort of moral or teaching in these old stories, and it was important to pay attention to such things. Flare didn't really care about any of that. What she cared about was-

“Well, well, well! If it isn't the Predator Type Pokémon, Typhlosion!" The sing-song voice of a familiar Pokémon interrupted her thoughts. He was supposed to be helping her with her training, but his casual approach and steady banter had resulted in something of a friendship between them. Fynn was a Vaporeon owned by one of the staff members, hopping onto the adjacent treadmill to pad alongside her, each of his four limbs bearing their own little pink sweatband. It would have been hard for him to look or act more of a stereotype.

Never failing to take the bait, “Predator Type!? I don't want to hear that from a pervert Pokémon like you, Fynn!" She spat back at him, quite pleased with herself for getting out the whole statement without losing her breath, “Not after all of that filthy bragging- about- about you and your Master!" Damn. She'd not quite made it to the end there. Arceus' grace. What was she even doing? She wanted to be back in her nest, with the magic box and her beanbag, and a big bucket of cookie dough!

“Moi?" He pretended to look scandalised, “Because I have the audacity to enjoy it when my Master fucks me into chained bitchgasms with his superior Human cock? Ain't nothing wrong about bragging about my perfect mate, right?" Fynn was a one-in-a-billion example of a Pokémon that could speak the Human tongue, and it was only after receiving a rather stern look from one of the Human staff across the gym floor that he bothered to lower his voice, “Besides, you're horny for your Human, too. What's the problem? How about you do like the Typhlosion in that story did in reverse? Climb on top of him while he's sleeping and get your womb battered into the shape of his cock! Maybe there's some truth to it all after all, and by some miracle you'll even get knocked up!"

Her response to that was a rather harsh glare, and the pervert Vaporeon completely withstood it with a look that very much communicated that as long as he was getting his insides rearranged on the nightly, he didn't even have half a fuck to give. Flare wasn't jealous. Who said she was jealous? The Typhlosion was too winded to harrumph against her inner narrative and chose instead to pretend to be aloof and above his petty provocations. Yes. She was a magnificent and refined Typhlosion that would not bow to such vulgarity! And definitely not dwelling on the idea of receiving a womb battering and impregnating creampie or whatever from her Master.

It was this folk tale that had thrown the biggest wrench into her plans. Her tangible and well-thought out and not at all pipedream plans. Because of those accursed memes, all of a sudden, her Master was conscious of her as a female. Just as Fynn poked a little fun at her, Chris was also receiving no shortage of banter for having a Typhlosion as his sole Pokémon, particularly when she was not a Warrior Pokémon or a Working Pokémon, but a pet. With her new carnal reputation, a few people had managed to even convince themselves that they were already a couple!

She grinned, unable to suppress the fact that this misconception made her quite happy, though when melded with the rather lewd thought of riding in her Master's lap that was currently running in parallel, Flare managed to pull a face lecherous enough for the Vaporeon to snort with amusement. He continued his angle, “Mating is good cardio, you know? Want me to talk to your Master about it?" Fynn giggled to himself, “I can tell him that his Typhlosion is a lewd Pokémon that wants to get bred in every hole, and then rub his seed into her fur so the whole world can tell at a sniff that she's a Human-owned sextoy. What do you think?"

Flare nearly fell off the treadmill. She'd never said those things! Okay. She had said those things. But individually, and not all wrapped up together and presented in a way that made her look like some sort of cockhungry slut! No matter how true or not that may be, a little more decorum was required when dealing with Humans! She scowled, padding ahead on the belt, “Don't you dare!" She was going a little red under her fur from more than just the exertion of exercise now, “I don't- don't- want him to- to- think I just want sex…"

“You're adorable." These sorts of frank discussions without shame or filter were perfectly normal for Pokémon, and the topic of mating and breeding partners hardly taboo. The involvement of Humans always made it more complicated, with their strange ideas about power dynamics and silly things like common decency. As far as Fynn saw it, there shouldn't be a problem with him raising his tail and showing himself off to his Master right in the middle of the gym to demonstrate his own submission, and his Master's virility. But, Humans tended to find that inappropriate for some reason, “Hey Typhlosion, did you know? The secret trick to winning over your Master is to own the meme!"

The exercise complete, her treadmill entered a cooldown phase that was too slow to even wind the out of shape Pokémon, and as she recovered her breath, she queried, “What? What's that supposed to mean? It's because of those stupid jokes that Master is all weird with me right now!"

“Tut, tut! See, this is why I'm getting turned white, and you're still a virgin!" The Vaporeon cackled, looking to be quite enjoying himself, “That Human is conscious of you as a female now, right? How is this anything but a good thing? Now is the time to strike!" Though, as for the Master that she was being encouraged to make a move on, he was currently dealing with a few quandaries of his own…

A few miles across Wesson Town, a lone gentleman wandered the empty hallways of an office block vacated for a staff training retreat, a cheap looking clipboard in his hand and an ink-stain at the corner of his mouth from the pen he'd been absently chewing the end of. He looked a little unnatural in his ill-fitting business suit, the way that the untailored garment clung tightly to his musclebound body making him look like he was wearing borrowed clothes. And he was. Because thanks to his Typhlosion, he was poor as dirt, and so had to put in extra workdays undertaking tedious safety inspections and filling out risk assessments as a side job on top of his regular Firefighter duties and training. At this rate, he'd only pay off his debt in… a few decades… maybe…

Not that he'd ever let her know about the reality of their relative impoverishment. That would be an affront to his sense of manliness. Flare may be a little self-centred, but she was a good girl at heart and would probably have been devastated if she ever found out precisely why her Master's work schedule was always so full. Christopher liked her best when she was lazing around looking like she hadn't got a care in the world. Even before all of this, his job was not exactly an easy one, and returning home to see her slumped on her beanbag with her facial fur messed up with the aftermath of a bucket of ice-cream and some trashy television show playing in the background always returned him to a sense of normalcy that the severity of his work took from him. She was an indispensable existence for him, and while a bit of exercise would certainly be good for her, he did hope that she never really changed at the core.

As for the matter of his little bit of financial hardship… or rather, severe financial hardship… Well, it was a funny story, actually. In fact, it made him laugh so much that he wanted to cry. These were tears of mirth. Honest. Despair? Perish the thought! And it wasn't like it was Flare's fault, really. He definitely wasn't making excuses for the Pokémon he couldn't help but keep enabling. It was an act of fate. Destiny. If you wanted to blame anyone, then why not try blaming Arceus? He nodded his head to the flow of his internal argument, very easily convincing himself. Like Master, like Pokémon.

A mistaken delivery had resulted in a certain package arriving at his home, a series of mix-ups and coincidences allowing his Pokémon to take custody of it without so much as a signature. Inside had been enough Rare Candy for Flare to evolve from Cyndaquil to Typhlosion, so gluttonous that she'd kept eating all the way through the interim form of Quilava without stopping for even a moment. Or even noticing. Of course, Chris wasn't exactly liable for all of that – but he was a man possessed with a particularly strong sense of responsibility and was determined to pay back the cost of the drug. Even if it was all one big accident, he had benefitted from it by having his partner grow into a powerful and valuable Pokémon. Yes, she was so ill-suited to combat that she somehow even managed to miss with her sure-thing Swift attack. But there were plenty of things that she was good at! Name even one of them? Why should I!? He fumed at the inner voice that dared to question his internal monologue.

Rare Candy was fabulously expensive. Really. So expensive that when the bill had arrived, Chris had allowed himself to shed a single manly tear. It was very manly indeed. Anyone that claimed that he had curled up into the foetal position and denied reality for a little while was clearly misremembering. So, he'd sold his half-paid-off home and moved into a crappy apartment across the road from the Wesson Town government offices. Well, who needed a big fancy house anyway? So long as he had enough money left over each month to dote on Flare, he didn't much mind these cozier conditions. There were plenty of colourful characters around, too. Like his gym buddy Dale from upstairs, and the mysterious Mr. Wo (his first name was Mewt or something) that stalked the corridors with an intimidating look about him. Yes. Maybe the crushing debt was a good thing? He'd just take it all in stride like always. No problem. He was richer in life or something. Yeah.

It was amazing the sort of mental gymnastics that mankind could achieve under pressure.

Chris tended not to think too deeply about things, even naming his Pokémon, Flare, for no other reason than because it sounded cool to him. He was strict with himself, which frankly, despite his reputation for being a bit of a musclebrain, made him very good at the tedious paperwork of safety inspections and risk assessments. As far as he saw it, if a job is worth doing, it's worth doing properly, and he held himself to account at all times. If he was capable of holding others to that same standard of diligence instead of just handwaving them with a free pass and picking up all of the extra slack himself, then he probably would have been promoted by now and his burdens made a little easier to manage.

He set his shoulder to the door of yet another sales room, quickly scribbling down a series of hazards that were eye-wateringly pedantic. A desk with the audacity to have a square corner? A row of coatpegs? A kettle situated in a place that was not a designated breakroom? Whether you found this sort of man impressive in his thoroughness, or would rather like to punch him squarely in the jaw was a matter of personal taste.

“I do hope that Flare is being well taken care of…" Chris would often give voice to his absent thoughts (the few thoughts that he had, anyway), “That nurse sure was scary. She was right, though. I want Flare to stay by my side forever, so I should be more mindful about her living a healthier lifestyle… The timing of all of this could have been better…"

Ever since that folklore tale had surfaced, Chris had been the target of no shortage of workplace banter about his Typhlosion. They said he'd have to be careful not to find himself waking up one night to find Flare in his lap. Or that they'd send out a rescue party to free him from her confinement if he didn't show up for work one day. He'd laughed it off, of course. At the start, anyway. The problem was that he had a bit of a vivid imagination, and had soon found himself envisioning those scenarios. And he hadn't hated them.

“Grrr…." He growled to himself and shook his head. Before now, he had never once thought of Flare as a female, never mind a prospective mate. Being in such severe debt, Chris had thought it irresponsible to pursue any women, so was in the midst of quite the elongated dry spell. One which his sense of duty would probably extend into his fifties at this rate. Suddenly seeing Flare not only as a member of the opposite sex, but also as a creature that had desires of her own had rocked him – not only as a result of the surfacing of this old story, but because unbeknownst to her, a few days ago he had returned home early to pick up his forgotten swipe card to find her openly masturbating.

Chris had been stealthy enough to grab it and leave without her noticing, but not without lingering for a little while to watch. Purely by accident! He was just moving extra slowly so as to not draw attention and embarrass her! No other reason! She'd bunched up the fabric of her beanbag chair between her legs and with her eyes closed had taken to rocking back and forth, steam rising from a pussy wet enough to have entirely soaked not only the chair but the matted fur of her thighs as well. The moan of a gushing orgasm had been loud enough to cover him closing the door behind himself, and now whenever his coworkers made jokes about Flare assaulting him, that was the image that flashed behind his eyes.

“Well, shit. Guess I'm a Poképhile, then." There was all sorts of social stigma behind that word, but Chris gave it no more thought than that. Flare was his only prospective mate, and even if that wasn't the case, the nonsense of this meme had only helped him realise that he liked her and would have chosen her eventually anyway. Well, he'd always liked her. He'd always loved her, even. Now who was being pedantic? What he meant was (as he informed himself with another knowing nod of the head), was that he liked her, loved her, and desired her, as a member of the opposite sex, “Well, I should probably do something about that, then."

He snorted, “Yeah. I'll use my fabulous wealth to book us a trip. Or have a date night. Oh, maybe I can impress her with an expensive gift!" His voice dripped with sarcasm, “Though… knowing Flare, she'd probably be pleased just with a bucket of ice-cream and some belly rubs."

The Typhlosion was the hug-shaped cuddly type, and while his Human sensibilities pressed him towards making some sort of grand gesture, he knew her well enough to understand that the perfect evening for his Pokémon involved nothing more than curling up together with some junk food and a crappy movie, “Giratina's infernal cunt. I do wish she had better taste in television at least… there are only so many evil twins, third act blue skybeams, and contrived happily ever afters I can take…" He grinned a little, “Not that I wouldn't mind a little contrived happily ever after for myself. You listening, Jirachi or whatever? Wish-bro? You out there? How about you hook me up with a lottery win as well while you're sorting out my love-life? Cheers!"

Naturally, he had a lottery ticket in his pocket, that longshot being just about the only hope he had of getting out of debt before his hair greyed. Hope was important, after all. He never entered the big prize draws, but this grand prize would be enough to square his finances at least, “What's with that pitying look? Escaping from reality again? Me? Never!" He vented to an imagined presence, all the while scribbling away on his clipboard. Chris huffed, “Real life ain't that convenient, huh? I'm just some dumbass that's fallen in love with his Typhlosion. I gotta make good on that or I ain't a man, right?"

Chris nodded his head along with himself. He had a strong picture in his head of the sort of man that he wanted to be, and even though it meant taking the thorny path, he wanted to stick to it. A real man took responsibility. A real man had hope. And a real man didn't quibble about things after he'd made his mind up. That's how it was in his mind, at least. And people dared call him a musclebrain? Well, if that's what one was, then he was proud of it. All he needed was a plan. He could figure one of those out, couldn't he? Or at the very least brute force it?

Several hours later, his work complete, Flare picked up from the gym, and the man retired to bed, he stared at the ceiling of his room thinking to himself that maybe it wouldn't be so easy after all.

Or, maybe it would be. Because armed with the sort of encouragement that could only be supplied by an unrelenting pervert of a Vaporeon like Fynn, Flare was making preparations to make her own move. She usually slept in a small nest that she had made for herself in the corner of her Master's room, though he never minded letting her stay up later than him to watch the magic box if she was glued to a show, and he'd thought her worthy of such a reward after putting in some effort at the gym today. And rightly so! That place was hell! And Fynn was much harder to manipulate than her Master, always leading her onto some new exercise while keeping up their conversation, it wasn't until she'd been collected that she realised that she'd been tricked into training the whole time.

Well, she'd get him back. Fynn spoke in the Human tongue, so he wasn't able to gush about his Master without drawing the ire of the staff (what prudes!) – and Flare intended to brag as shamelessly and as loudly as she was able after bagging her Human! Petty? Maybe she was. But no Pokémon was great at maintaining decorum, really. They were open with their desires, and never put a barrier between themselves and what they wanted, leaving all of that second-guessing and dancing around to the Humans. She'd given the Vaporeon a good shouting at after he pointed out that the way she'd been hesitating to make her move on her Master was actually quite Human as well.

She sighed, reclining in her beanbag. Lean into the meme. That was the advice that she had received. Truth be told, she'd not paid too much attention to the specifics of the folklore tale that had caused her so much trouble. There were berries involved, so she had one of those in her lap. Sex while one of the two was asleep and unknowing, well her Master had just gone to bed, and he always dropped off quickly. Then something to do with impregnation and confinement? Flare made quite the lascivious face, giggling to herself. That sounded like some sort of marathon womb-busting mating session to her, after all. Excellent. She imagined that she'd quite enjoy that part.

It was hard to tell if she was more horny or terrified. This was a big step to take, after all, and success or failure, it would forever change the nature of their relationship. Not that she imagined for even a second that she might be rejected! Flare swallowed, and a thought entirely alien to a Pokémon so completely lacking in self-awareness surfaced in her heart.

Why would he want a useless female like me?

Useless as a Battle Pokémon. Useless as a Working Pokémon. And as a Companion Pokémon, what gave her any merit as a pet that exceeded someone that could fight or prove useful to her Master in some other way on top of that? Harrumph. She pouted, and then slapped her cheeks. The only one that got to decide her value was her Master. She'd buried this line of thought a long time ago, and now was hardly the time to suddenly be bowled over with a crisis of confidence!

Yes. Flare was a completely shameless Pokémon. She wanted her Master, so why shouldn't she have him? Or rather, why shouldn't he have her? Despite all of her flaws (which in this very rare moment of self-reflection she chose to theoretically acknowledge), he kept her, looked after her, and doted on her endlessly. How could she not fall in love with him? How could she not want him as her mate? It was all his fault, and he had no right to complain about any of this! Flare nodded her head along with her reasoning, just like he did, “I'm his belonging. He's my dominant male. What's the problem? In fact, why am I even going through so much trouble? Doesn't he understand that it's his right to have me? I want to feel wanted too, you know!?"

She squirmed hopelessly in on her beanbag, failing about her limbs in frustration, “You're such an idiot, Master! Making me fall in love with you and then not fucking me senseless! I want a big fat breeding creampie like Fynn's Master gives him! I'm so jealous! Just masturbating isn't enough for me anymore! I want to know what mating feels like! I want to cuddle and have messy Human kisses! Everyone already thinks we're doing it because of that stupid meme so why does it even matter!? Just give up and become my mate already!"

Ah. She pressed her paws over her muzzle, silencing herself. The language of Pokémon may be completely unintelligible to a Human, but she was still making plenty of noise venting her frustrations and might wake him up if she wasn't careful. Well, at this point, if she did wake him up and he came through from the next room over to her, then she'd probably just abandon the whole plan, thrust up her haunches, spread her legs, and hope for the best. Her breeding instincts had entirely defeated her, her womb throbbed with need and there was an itch about her cunt that no shuffling against her beanbag chair could relieve. For a Fire Type, she was abnormally wet, her sopping cunt steaming with arousal, and Flare had about reached her limits.

She was going to have her Master whether he liked it or not! Oh. Maybe that folklore wasn't too far off the mark, after all. Males liked sex, right? He'd probably forgive her after fucking a load of superior Human cum into her desperate womb, right? He'd call her a good girl after stretching out her pussy into the shape of his perfect cock, right? Flare blinked, “What the fuck am I thinking right now?" She shook her head, “I'm not a… pervert or anything! I'm just… I just need…!"

The Typhlosion had worked herself up into a frenzy, the flames of her desire fed by the encouragement of her friend, and now fuelled by a devastatingly potent arousal. It was hard to think clearly. In fact, it was hard to think at all. Not that she was much good at thinking anyway, “You take that back…" She muttered at her imagined detractors, grabbing the Berry that had been resting in her lap to find it entirely greased with a sheen of femslick. Well, it had some part in the folklore story, so she'd need it somewhere along the line, probably.

Chris had something of a spartan room, a neat and tidy reflection of his particularly dutiful sensibilities, it was dominated by a large bed that he allowed his Typhlosion to share with him on occasion, especially in winter. Though, the heat she emanated just from being in the space was more than enough for him to require naught but a thin sheet to cover himself, and that was mostly for the sake of modesty. The flaming mantle of the Volcano Pokémon had reduced to a dull smoulder, and Flare had enough control over her element to keep it from burning her Master or even the bed. Letting it out just a little like this felt more comfortable than sublimating it completely, and as she slipped through the doorway and sealed it behind her, provided a little light for her to see by, too.

Reared onto her hindlegs, she was around a head shorter than her Human, though had enough pudge to her for her weight to exceed that of his muscular form. Well, that was hardly a bad thing! He always said that it made her more comfortable for him to hug! That nurse didn't know what she was talking about! Flare wasn't 'a bit chubby'! This was a healthy pudge… maybe if she intended to hibernate or something. Ahem. She gave a slight huff to keep her thoughts from again getting away from her as the tangent momentarily disrupted her horniness. It was said that Pokémon and their Trainers often come to resemble one another, but any observer would say that these two fools were beyond the pale in that regard. Not that either of them knew it.

So, maybe it was a cliché approach, but something could only become cliché if it was tried and tested, right? But, even if her Master had been properly asleep and not merely dozing, he surely would have woken up the moment that she lurched upwards and transferred her considerable heft onto the mattress at his side, the whole bed jostling. There was a considerable creak, as there always was whenever she joined him hoping to be doted on, though this time she wanted more than a few headpats and a cuddle. A lot more.

Chris had enough good sense to continue to feign sleep, knowing that it his Typhlosion would be best pleased with herself if she was allowed to think of herself as agile and stealthy enough to join him in bed without him noticing. He was always making small concessions to her like this for the sake of her piece of mind, though did wish that she had picked a better night than this one to snuggle up against him. He'd been kept up for a while, trying to think of how best to make his own approach. Somehow, it felt a little cheap to take advantage of Dale's talking Pokémon as a medium to communicate his feelings, but he wasn't quite sure how to proceed unless he could be entirely sure of hers. Maybe the Vaporeon could sound her out for him? That might be best. A real man was also a gentleman, after all.

The weight to his side swayed, and he felt some movement in the sheet. It was probably tangled in her claws again. He'd woken up without it a few times, especially recently, and since he slept nude beneath it, he had been a little embarrassed to find himself that way. Morning wood was a whole thing after all, and Flare had given him such a smug look when they'd made eye contact over it one time. She was good at toying with him like that, and always seemed to be able to get what she wanted out of him, be it the latest snack or an extra hour in front of the television. Chris couldn't help but dote on her. It was her fault for being so cute. Could anyone blame him? Well, except for that nurse.

A slight draft informed him that he had been entirely relieved of the sheet. Not that it really mattered with Flare putting out so much heat in her sleep – the sheer impossibility of a Pokémon harming a Human even by accident sufficient to stay the flaming mantle. He sighed softly, the slight exhalation not enough to break the illusion of sleep. Well, so much for modesty. It wasn't like she hadn't seen it all before, at least. Though with his eyes closed, Chris had no idea how much attention she was paying to him at that very moment.

Flare was quite impressed with herself, certain that she'd managed to make it this far without waking up her Master. Truly, she was agile and graceful, a most exceptional Typhlosion. Could it be that she had found her talent? Not that she didn't already have many talents. Real ones. Not pointless things like perfectly memorising the profiles of a full ensemble cast of her favourite show or being able to guzzle ice-cream buckets in single sittings. Regardless, she added a little potency to her flames to brighten the surrounds just a little, and surveyed her Master's body.

His physique was as well-honed and muscular as one would expect of a man in his profession, and he'd no shortage of minor scuffs, marks, and scars, either. Nothing severe enough to have ever hospitalised him, but surely the wear and tear of a body used to hardship. To her wild instincts, it brought to mind the reassurance of a male that had weathered many battles, and the masculine presence made her hindlegs quiver. His skin was lightly tanned, especially past the cuffs and collar, and his dark hair – all of it – was well-groomed. Whatever a Human appraisal might be, her own rating for her Master was quite high. Higher than anyone else. Though, Flare was a little biased.

What she was focusing on most was the man's crotch, her eyes following her desire straight to the goods. Pokémon tended to be quite poorly endowed, the evolution of a combative species reducing vulnerable points and leading to males having quite subdued equipment. On the plus, they'd plenty of sexual stamina and were quite copious in their orgasms for repeated breedings. A Human male might only have two loads for the night, though went much longer between shots, and sported a maleness thrice the size of what any Pokémon might hope for – save for some very rare exceptions. It was because of those rare exceptions and species of much larger size that Pokémon females ended up as wet as a Floatzel's pocket at even the slightest arousal, with cock-wringing climaxes to milk their males dry, and gushing femgasms to keep up with them.

It made Pokémon perfectly suited for interbreeding their various species. But when it came to Humans, that was nothing but pure pleasure. A male could be fucked into a long chain of quivering bitchgasms and bred until every drop of their inferior masculinity was entirely puddled on the floor beneath them. And a female served as a perfect cocksleeve, sensitive to pleasure and with the breeding instinct that craved a deep womb-fucking that only a superior Human cock could provide. There was plenty of fun to be had with Human females, too – but that was irrelevant to Flare. All she was interested in was her Master, and she wanted him all for herself. She always got what she wanted. Or rather, her Master always gave her what she wanted. Surely, he'd give her this, too.

So, according to the documentaries she'd gathered all of this information from, and the personal experience of spying on him, she knew that when erect, she'd be dealing with a hefty cock thrice the size of anything her own species could offer. How was that going to feel scraping out her womb? Stuffed under her tail? Deep down her throat? Fynn told her that he'd managed to climax just from the anticipation of being on the brink of finally wrapping his muzzle around his Master's cock, and Flare's hindlegs were already shaking.

Her pussy was streaming with the desperate femslick of her need, that terrible itch seizing her with a frustrated feeling that flowed from her cunt to confound her whole body. Her empty womb throbbed, and while its desire for an egg was entirely futile, the battery of her mate's cock would be ample substitute. A thick load of Human cream was the only thing that could stifle the heat that had taken over her. Only her beloved could put out this fire before it went completely out of control.

Flare found her breath catching. How long had she just been staring at him for, now? His nest was thick with his scent, and with her instincts turned to the carnal the inhalation of it made her heart flutter. If she let her hindlegs come together, then she knew that the friction alone would be enough to bring her to orgasm, though with her mind so awash in these fantasies of submission to her chosen male, she imagined that she was soon going to squirt her pleasure over her thighs in a messy climax in a matter of moments anyway.

Well, if he was going to mark her by breeding her every hole and basting her fur with his cum, then shouldn't she make it clear that he was her possession as well? The smear of female Pokémon arousal would be enough to let every species with a half-decent nose know that he belonged to the Typhlosion. She stepped closer, shifting herself to the head of the bed and then passing over his body with her forepaws. From this topmost angle it would be much easier for her to bury her face into his crotch and carry herself those final inches past the brink of pleasure.

And that might have worked. If she was an agile Espeon, and not a lumbering Typhlosion. The tangle of the sheet that she had dragged off her Human caught in her claws, and she tumbled over him in a ridiculous flop, his crotch entirely engulfed in the fur of her chest as she faceplanted between his knees, and her own sopping femininity splattering down atop his face.

Not even Chris could pretend to be asleep with that going on, able to exclaim a hearty, “Ooomph!?" as the climaxing cunt of his Pokémon smothered him entirely. Robbed of vision and of breath, the man had absolutely no idea what had just happened to him, the press of her thighs about his ears muffled the moan of pleasure she cried out to announce her orgasm, her hindquarters a hopeless grind that smeared his world in the lewd heat of her scent.

Instinct demanded that she free him quickly, the natural aversion to causing harm to a Human enough to force her to raise her hips upwards, thick strands of female pleasure connecting her twitching pussy to his face, and it was only at this moment that Chris was finally aware of precisely what had just happened to him. Well, presented with the sight of his Typhlosion's matted thighs, clutching femininity, and the heaving chest and blushed face beyond, one could hardly misinterpret what had just happened.

His mind froze. This was far from the first time that he'd caught the scent of her arousal, but to be so completely inundated with it, particularly after having recently become aware of Flare as a woman, the effect on him was immediate. His face flushed, and he felt a little ashamed that she'd been able to make the first move. So much for his grand gesture. Had this really happened? His Typhlosion had dropped her hips onto his face and by the mess of it appeared to have cum all over him in a wet and squirting femgasm, her shivering cunt still in the wake of climax. Her eyes were misted, but she looked desperate, maybe even a little afraid.

Could it be that she yearned for him as much as he did for her? Was it really going to be that convenient? A few words of reassurance, and their relationship would begin as a pleasant love story. But could it possibly end up so simple for these two idiots? Of course, not. The moment that he tried to speak, Flare seized the fist-sized Berry that had been lying at her side and slammed it into his open mouth, his teeth sinking into it and the whole thing serving as a gag. It turned out that thing came in useful after all!

Pokémon want to be used by Humans. That was a fundamental truth of their world. Their place was submission, and the role of mankind that of authority. But, Flare had no intention of stopping before she got what she came for! Her instincts twisted her self-serving desires into the idea that she was doing this for her Human, and that convoluted line of reasoning gave her the power to take initiative like no other Pokémon could. Each of her hindlegs was placed atop one of her Master's arms, and the throb of arousal that she observed in the cock that she leaned back to reveal informed her of his desire. Would she have been able to stop herself even if that hadn't been the case? Maybe she was a Predator Type after all…

“Mine… this is all mine!" She buried her face into his crotch, inhaling his scent in deep and heavy breaths, nuzzling against the side of his cock as she gradually nursed him to attention. Flare was a virgin with no experience of her own, but she'd seen plenty of educational programs on the magic box, and Fynn was quite the repository of knowledge when it came to pleasing a male as well. But, all of that fell by the wayside as the Typhlosion threw away any concept of technique to instead surrender entirely to her instincts. This was the cock of her dominant male, her Master, her breeding partner. Just sniffing it made her cunt gush. The heated presence made her heart burn and her womb throb.

“Master!" She called out, dragging her broad pink tongue from base to tip as the press of her muzzle pointed the burgeoning erection skyward. The sensation was addicting. Of course, the taste was hardly comparable to cookie dough, but the flavour of the male that owned her satisfied her gluttony more profoundly than any food, “Master! Master!" Her mind was a jumbled mess of excitement and hysteria, pleasure and desire ruined her thoughts. She could feel his gaze, levelled straight into her drooling cunt, and there were no signs of resistance from below. Not that she had any intention of letting him get away before she was chewing on a mouthful of cum.

She engulfed the tip of his cock into her muzzle, the pleasure of her heated maw grand enough for Chris to further sink his teeth into the Berry he was being gagged with, the intensity of the feeling enhanced by the drop of her upper body drawing most of his shaft into her mouth. Typhlosion was gifted with a long and broad muzzle, the spaced fangs and shielding tongue providing a natural furrow for his cock, and despite her truly amateurish technique, the sloppy desperation with which she set to him left a sublime sensation. There was a heat grander than any Human, but not so much as to be unpleasant, and the warmth of her furred body draped over him melded with the animalistic scent of bestial arousal to awaken a feral yearning in her Master.

He'd been thinking about her through the lens of humanity. A girlfriend. A wife. He'd compared her to females of his own species, but that wasn't how it was for a Pokémon. A mate. A dominant male. That's what she wanted of him. And she'd only be satisfied if he awoke to that instinct, the Human proclivity to authority, and bred the Pokémon that was his possession until she had been entirely broken to his will. And the stirring in his chest told him that he was hardly averse to the idea. Though… maybe he'd hold off on acting on that until she'd finished gulping down his cum.

The swaying pussy before him, drooling the slick of her previous climax over his neck and chest, was a truly frustrating sight, cast partially in shadow and too obscured for him to make a proper assessment of the cunt that was now his property. He blinked. Strange how quickly he'd thought of things like that. Suddenly, all of the ambiguity of their relationship had simply slotted into place, and he was denied the words to tell her that! Well, not that words were entirely necessary at this point. He still wanted to, though. He wanted her to know that he loved her. He wanted to see that she understood that and loved him, too. And then he wanted to look into her eyes while he fucked her broken.

That was about the limit of Chris' romantic thoughts.

Flare, meanwhile, was a little more self-centred in her pleasure. She drooled hopelessly all over his crotch, occasionally missing a downward stroke of her muzzle over his cock to have his maleness come free and slap against his abdomen, then be plied back into position with worshipful laps of the tongue, “Mine! All for me! Master's cock! Master's cock!" She babbled incoherently, instinct twisted by lust making her reverential in her ministrations, “Breeding!" Flare moaned, “In my inferior Pokémon cunt!" She'd never thought of herself as a lesser species before. Not properly, anyway. The superiority of a Human cock was one thing, but in this acknowledgement, the conceited Typhlosion lost her mind completely, “Mating! All for you! Breed me into your shape! My pussy! Under my tail! My throat! Beat my womb into submission! It's what I was hatched for! I want to be your mate! I want to be your toy!"

Every ounce of pride abandoned, she thrust her head down his cock until her jaw struck against his lower abdomen, and the tip of his maleness bulged her throat. Breathing? Who needed air? She would have choked immediately if she'd tried to have any finesse about this, and with no technique to speak of, the best that Flare could do was desperately rock her body into a self-imposed muzzle-fucking while holding her breath. And it didn't take much of that before she was finally served her reward.

The Human grunted with the exertion of his peak, a snap of his jaws finally chomping through the Berry that was serving as his gag. Flare drew back from his cock at the moment that he reached orgasm, keeping only the head of his maleness inside her muzzle to capture every last rope of vulgar Human seed on her tongue, her whole body shuddering as the sheer joy of bringing her Master to climax sent her into a cascading orgasm of her own. Her feral pussy twitched, clamping down around nothing as her insides wrung out a squirting mess of femcum that melded with the spattered Berry to smother Chris with a spicy sweetness of musky need. His Pokémon was holding his seed in her mouth, suckling every last drop of his orgasm into her maw, and then she finally dragged herself from him completely to sit on the mattress at his side.

He could do nothing but breathe heavily as she opened her mouth to show him the pool of male essence accumulated there. She then tilted her face upwards, and by the light of her flaming mantle he watched her throat bulge. Once. Twice. And then she displayed for him an empty maw, “Good girl…" He said the words instinctively. Fynn had advised her to deal with her Master's load in this way, and it was only in the wake of this pleasure that she found this brief moment of clarity to have enough conscious thought to do such a thing.

Chris dragged himself into a seated posture himself. His fingers flexed. She was looking right into his eyes again, and as some sanity returned to the Typhlosion, he knew that embarrassed face quite well. Not that the brazen creature was very often embarrassed about anything at all. Whatever she had been babbling in Pokéspeak must have been a little extreme. But, the heat of the moment had faded, and now as her Master, it was time for him to make things clear between them. She had shown him the depths of her desire. This was the part where he told her that he loved her and settled things for good.

But, fate then intervened. A loud beeping erupted from his pager, and the honed reaction of many repetitions spurred the Firefighter's body into motion. He threw himself from the bed, and with his face and chest still wet with the marking of his female, quickly began to dress, “Stay there!" Her expression was one of absolute turmoil, but this was not a thing that he could put off, and what he had to say was hardly something that one shouted over their shoulder on the way out of the door, “I'll be back!" And then, he was gone.

… … …

… …

…

“What!?" She shouted at the door as it closed, the absolutely shameless Pokémon wailing, “But we're not finished yet!" Flare screamed out her frustration, “WROAWR!"

The empty cold of his absence washed over her, her heart a mix of arousal and anxiety. What was he going to say before they were interrupted? Even after all that had happened, there was no guarantee that her attempt at courtship had succeeded. She flailed for a few minutes, venting. A more fragile Pokémon might have burst into tears at the unfairness of it all, or been overcome with worry for the words that her Master had held back before sprinting through the door, but not Flare. In the end, thinking about it, what did those words even matter? She was mostly just angry that he'd gotten away without fucking her into a stupor.

If he was going to say that he loved her, asked her to be his mate – no – told her that she was his mate, and then gave her the womb-plundering fuck that she'd been thirsting for all this time, then of course she would be overjoyed. She might even happy-cry a little. But if he was going to say 'this was a mistake' or something else along those lines… then was she really going to let him get away with that? “Of course not!" She howled to the empty room. Flare had decided that this Human was going to be her mate, and she always made him give her what she wanted. She'd ride in his lap every night, suck his cock, dump her haunches over his face, present herself at every opportunity, grapple, cuddle, and kiss, until he gave in! If he dared to reject her, then she'd force him to change his mind! What sort of girl in love gave up that easily!? Certainly not her!

The Typhlosion harrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest. It was all for his own good, after all. He already owned her, and he was missing out by not taking advantage of that fact. Her pussy, her undertail, her throat, everything, it all belonged to him. It was her duty as his Pokémon to make that clear! Yeah. This was definitely all for the benefit of her Master. Maybe the Typhlosion from that folklore story had the right idea? If that was what it took to claim a Human for herself, then she didn't mind being a little bit aggressive with her Master. She loved him, and in her self-centred mind, she truly believed that now that the carnal line had been crossed, the evolution of her dominant male into her mate was simply a matter of course. Flare was going to make him happy whether he liked it or not! And he would obviously be happiest loving her back!

“I was so close!" She had been entirely ready to lose her virginity at last, and now that the shock of him leaving had faded, the Typhlosion became overwhelmingly conscious of the clinging dregs of his masculinity marking her muzzle, and it made her dripping cunt gush anew, “Ahhh! Master! I need you! I need you to breed me! You're so mean! Don't leave me all alone! I don't care if the whole town burns down! I need a load of your cum marking my womb! I want it under my tail, too! And all over my fur! I want it, I want it, I want it!" She kicked out her limbs like a truly spoilt brat. Because that's exactly what she was. And even she knew it.

“Maybe a good breeding will make me more obedient?" That was a surprisingly arousing thought. Strained though it was by her self-serving inner narrative, she did still have an instinctual proclivity towards submission, and the idea of her Master using her as he desired was a very attractive one. Heavy paws and hooked digging-claws made masturbation difficult for the Typhlosion, but Flare didn't hesitate for even a second to grab her Master's pillow and force it between her legs to grind against. She was going to make sure that his nest was well and truly marked with her scent! This absolutely wasn't just an excuse to fill the time by cumming all over his bedding! It was only right and proper that she trained her Human to appreciate the scent of her arousal and be turned on enough to deal with it!

She moaned whorishly, rocking her hips back and forth as she reflected on the sensation of her Master's cock resting in her muzzle. She'd completely lost control of herself while so immersed in his scent, but didn't imagine taking back any of the debauched things that she had said, “I'm your cum-dump womb-slave Pokémon slut…" Flare chained a series of depravities, her heated pussy throbbing to the forbidden thrill of the words. She'd always owned her shamelessness, but never realised how much it had influenced her sexuality until this moment.

Self-reflection was not a common process for Flare, and she indulged in the practice now only long enough to acknowledge that she wanted to not only be her Master's mate – doted on and indulged in the sort of wholesome relationships that she saw on the magic box; but she wanted to be his plaything, too – his living sextoy, his needy cocksleeve that couldn't manage a day without a thorough mating and a thick load of superior Human cum either on or in her. Ideally, both. Why should Vaporeon have a monopoly on being the slut Pokémon? Flare was ready to own the meme herself, too. Predator Pokémon indeed!

The Typhlosion closed her eyes and imagined how that would look. Her Master could come home to the sight of her with her chest thrust to the floor and her haunches raised, hips swaying side to side to show off the desperation of the cunt that could only be sated by being thoroughly dominated by his cock. She'd curl up over herself like Fynn had described to receive a mating press that contrary to the name, was made manifest as a deep fucking under her tail that would end with her being bloated with so much cum that she'd be able to cough it up! Her senses still revelled in the lingering taste and scent of his maleness. Would he mind if she spent the whole day with her face buried in his crotch?

“That's right, Master…" She grappled with the pillow, the fabric already a soaked mess dragging cascading femslick from her needy cunt, “Breed my…" Flare swallowed, “My lesser species womb…" The relationship between Human and Pokémon could hardly be said to be equal, but to speak the words so explicitly felt like some terrible taboo. The throb of pure servility made her Soul quake with desire. Her sexual aggression was something of a contradiction, but Flare was too horny to really examine the issue anymore, “I need your cock! Fuck me! Mate me! Breed me!"

She collapsed around the pillow as a full-body orgasm wracked her body, her overflowing pussy a torrent of squirting pleasure. Flare was going to make her Human dominate her. Whether that objective stood up to scrutiny no longer mattered. Just like him, she had a rather vivid imagination, and now fully indulged herself in the realms of fantasy. Simultaneously she was his beloved mate, and his servile fucktoy. Flare owed both to her Master, and she wouldn't be happy without both of them herself. And she was going to mate with him for as long as it took for her feelings to reach her Human and for him to realise that!

It was only an hour later that Chris would be making his return, bypassing the mysterious Mr. Wo on the stairs (what was with that look of distinct disapproval he was being given?), and pausing at the door to his apartment. The summons from the Fire Station had been something of a false alarm, and he'd arrived at work and geared up, only to then need to doff his kit, and turn straight back around to come home. It had been time enough though to cool his head. Mostly. Okay, scarcely at all if he was being entirely honest about it.

He gulped. What was he going to walk back into after he passed over the threshold? Flare had propositioned him pretty obviously, and she was hardly the sort of half-measures when she knew what she wanted. But was it just for sex or for everything else that he was hoping for? He'd tried to come up with something elegant to say to respond to all of that. The sort of grand declaration of his intentions that he wished that he'd managed to make at the start of this. But for some reason, the words couldn't come. All of the blood had perhaps drained from his brain to rush somewhere else? “You take that back… I'm a smart guy…" He muttered in response to his imaginary detractor.

Still, his hand rested on the doorknob for a little while longer. He'd been less apprehensive about bursting into burning buildings! When everything had paused, right before his pager had gone off, she had given him such a vulnerable look that it damn near melted his heart. Chris took a slow breath and steeled his resolve. What was he doing hesitating here for? This is what he wanted, wasn't it? It was time to be a man, like he was always going on about. There was that strange feeling that had awoken in him, an oddly possessive yearning that drove him to think of Flare as someone that he wanted to possess completely. It was an animalistic instinct that said, 'she is mine', 'my breeding female', 'my mate', 'my beast-wife'. Whatever that folklore tale implied, it was impossible for him to impregnate her. Probably. But he still wanted to claim her. Mark her with his essence. Tell the whole world that she was his.

Maybe I should slow down a little, though? Take it nice and easy?

He would learn that he had no choice in that particular matter from the moment that he crossed the living space of his apartment and entered his room. In the darkness, an intimidating presence sought him out with gleaming eyes, the blaze of her mantle an explosive roil. His bed was a mess, and her feral scent an overpowering musk that made his mind haze over. Was this what the captive of the Typhlosion from that folktale might have felt? Chris was held in place by the overpowering desire flowing from the Pokémon he'd bound himself to, the pressing weight of a lustful presence that yearned to devour him.

It was impossible for her to harm him. His rational mind knew that. But he was having a little bit of trouble accessing those thoughts right now. Wouldn't you, too? A feral creature wreathed in flame was eyeing him like a piece of meat, her cunt drooling beneath her as wetly as her slavering muzzle on high, “F-Flare- wait a seco-" She was hardly imposing under normal circumstances, his cuddly Typhlosion an absolute pushover, but now the Pokémon had rushed up to smother him against the wall, pressing against him with her not inconsiderable weight and burying her muzzle into his neck.

Even if he had only worn his kit over these sweats for a brief time, the acrid chemical scent and smoky remnants of past callouts had been transferred to his clothes, and to a Fire Type like her it was a cloying perfume that she couldn't get enough of. Her Master had the scent of flames upon him, and it was irresistible! He was trying to say something. Well, whatever it was, it wasn't going to change anything. She was selectively deaf to his orders at times (especially when baths were involved), but this was the first time that her mind was so far gone that she couldn't even comprehend his voice. Her thoughts were a mess of half-realised fantasies, and the ambition to have her fill of pleasure from her Master until the man was inspired to grab her by the throat and breed her hard of his own accord and use her like the Human-owned Pokéslut that she was!

Those clothes were in the way. Rags now, after her claws had gotten into them. She pressed her body hard against him, engulfing the Human in the warmth of her fur and the heat of her element, “Mine…" That was the word she repeated into his shoulder, over and over again. It wasn't possible to mate in this position, but she still stayed there for a while, until she was sure that she had sapped the resistance from her captive male. Wasn't it time she showed him what he owned? Flare dragged him with her, stepping backwards and then falling for his upper body to resound against her belly. A good thing she was so chubby? “You take that back…" She broke her lustful reverie to mutter that, and then thrust the Human down, until he drew level with her sopping cunt.

Chris had been robbed of all control of the situation, the dominant ideals that he was starting to build up in his heart bowled over when his Pokémon had tackled him down. Hesitation is defeat. Weren't Pokémon supposed to be sexually submissive? Flare had seized the initiative from him, and now he found himself positioned up against her lower body, the weight of her hindpaws resting around his shoulders with the threat of a smothering embrace, and her nethers before his eyes. Her eyes told him that if he didn't get to work of his own accord, he'd soon be drowning in it.

He quite liked her scent. With Human senses, he might not have the capacity to appreciate it quite so deeply as she could, but there was a feminine musk here imbued with something smoky and distinctly Fire Type. It made his head a little foggy and stoked his arousal – not for any specific effect of the odour, but because he knew it to be his belove Flare in heat. The underside of the bulky mammalian Pokémon was a deep cream colour, and the thick fur of her crotch and thighs was a matted mess, the extended tuft of her almost-tail completely inundated with her fluids. Her presented cunt was quite Human-like, a delicate pink spread before his eyes, though the folds were much more distinct, and the clit protruded openly from the hood. If he'd been able to think more clearly, he probably would have surmised that this abundance of sensitivity around the entrance was why she was more partial to grinding on pillows rather than using a bedpost or something as a makeshift sextoy.

Somehow, her thoughts had been communicated. This pussy belonged to him, and the twitching opening beneath it as well. Flare wanted him to acknowledge that, and if he didn't, then she'd bury his face in it by force until he did. What a very Pokémon way of thinking. Chris was going to be forced to accept her surrender whether he wanted to or not, her submission was his, and in her needy, bratty, way – she demanded his domination.

The man took his time processing that fact as he leaned forwards, placing a hand on either side of her cunt and using his thumbs to spread her insides. Her pussy was literally steaming, but to his touch he couldn't have called it an unpleasant heat. If only Flare were so good at controlling her inner Element in battle. Her mantle was aflame with enough force to fully illuminate the room, and there was no sign of embarrassment of her when her Master was presented with a thorough view of her insides, folds linked by thick strands of droopy femslick, the parting of his thumbs giving him a look all the way to a virginal cervix. Shallow. Despite her comparable size to him, the hilting of his cock would mean battering down her innermost gates and fucking her womb directly.

Good. If he didn't breed her most absolute depths into complete submission, then he could hardly say that he'd fully claimed her. Chris blinked. Another strange thought for him to have. Leaning into the instinctual carnal relationship between a Human and a Pokémon was a wild experience. His upper body was already soaked from the transfer of fluids from her fur, and her lowermost limbs gave him an encouraging squeeze. She was going to cum all over his face whether that meant him using his fingers and tongue to bring her to orgasm, or took the forceful grinding of her bestial pussy by her own forceful embrace. No more delays.

“Arceus' cock!" Flare cried out the profanity the moment that his tongue traced the entirety of her crotch, from the indentation of her undertail, splitting the groove of her cunt, right up to the pronounced peak of her sensitive clit. It was a testing prelude to further stimulation, but pleasure under the ministrations of another rather than guided by her own force was an entirely new experience, “Master… Master licked my pussy… Ahhh!?" She writhed, bucking upwards as another drag of the tongue made her back arch. Pokémon were very sensitive to pleasure, after all, “My… unworthy… inferior… little cunt… all yours…"

Her Master was deaf to her self-degradation. Not only due to the language barrier, but because her sopping thighs had now pressed down onto the sides of his head and completely robbed him of sound. Well, at least he'd enough range of movement to keep eating this cunt at his own pace. Just as Flare found the taste of her Master to be fulfilling on an instinctual level, Chris savoured his Typhlosion in precisely the same way. This pussy belonged to him, and the messy smear of femcum slathering his face and upper body felt right. Smoky, salty, musky, certainly the taste of a Fire Type Pokémon, and he lapped it up in abundance without hesitation.

It was almost too easy to bring her to orgasm. Perhaps she was already on edge from before they even started? Only a few long laps of the tongue to cleave her sensitive folds, and then the capture of that pronounced clit between his lips to ply a small amount of pressure, “WROAWR!" The Typhlosion flailed helplessly, mantle flaring with heatless flame as the eruption from her back mirrored the explosion of femslick splattering her Master at her cunt. Pussy and undertail flexed rhythmically, her insides designed to wring a cock dry clamping down on nothing, “Master is… Master is making me cum!"

This time, it was an orgasm by intent, even if she had coerced him into it. Her flailing hindlimbs had released him, but his oral ministrations didn't stop. Why should he? Since his Pokémon had been so audacious as to grind his face into her cunt, he was going to make her pay for it! How many times would he have to make her cum before she meekly offered up herself to him in a lewd mating presentation? Determined to find out, Chris twisted two fingers into her post-climax cunt, extending the pleasure as he toyed with her insides, nibbling at her clit as another squirt of femcum slicked his chest. He may not have acknowledged her as a female for long, but ever since he'd walked in on Flare masturbating, this was a cunt that he'd not been able to get out of his head. And he intended to fully enjoy what belonged to him.

“F-fuck! I can't go back – to pillows – after this!" She was designed to reach climax as fast as a quickshot male Pokémon, her orgasm wringing them of cum and ensuring a successful breeding. The forceful pleasure that a Human could give her by comparison had brought her body thrashing, chest heaving with throaty moans, and her melted expression accompanied by a hanging-open maw and drooling tongue, “More, Master!" She made her demand, even though she felt like any more than this might just make her go insane, “More! I'm your toy! Use your slutty little plaything as – as much as you want!"

No wonder Pokémon rights activists had such a problem with this power dynamic. Not that Flare gave even a tenth of a fuck about those prudes on the news. She wanted this. The feeling that she was lesser to her Master only heightened her arousal. That she was his Human-owned breeding whore didn't impact at all on the more wholesome side of their relationship! Probably. It might take some practice to not yield to her instincts in public and settle for a hug rather than spreading her needy pussy for her Master to claim. No wonder Fynn was having so much trouble. All she wanted to do was be doted on, laze around on her beanbag and have lovey-dovey time with her Master… but also be fucked into submissive ruin, her place as his fucktoy pet an absolute fact.

Well. That balance was for her Master to figure out. He was smart (he wasn't).

Another gushing femgasm was having Chris wondering just how great a volume of these slick sexual fluids a Typhlosion could produce. Were they all this ruinously wet, or was Flare a unique case? Any Trainer with the balls to eat out a Water Type had his respect. She was expressive in her pleasure, moaning in response to the undulating motion of his pumping fingers, her whole body twitching when he caught her clit with his lips, legs grasping at him, a little plume of flame bursting from her maw to herald that last peak. It felt rewarding to him, her grateful pleasure driving him to increase the force and intensity of his motions, her reactive body flailing hopelessly before him.

His forearm tensed to the rapidity of his fingering, his jaw ached to the ministrations of his oral. The heat had become intense, but he didn't stop. Reason had vacated the driving seat of his mind, and he was running on pure instinct, this pleasure the force by which he would have his bratty Pokémon submit to him. He never imagined that he might be pushing his luck just a little bit too far. Not until a forceful thrust of her hindlegs sent him staggering from the edge of the bed and to the floor, her weight immediately slamming down on him from above as she pinned him.

“More! More! Master's cock! Master's cock!" His Typhlosion was grinding against his abdomen, and again she wore that expression of feral need, her countenance a bestial want. Her forelimbs had pinned down his upper body, and she shuffled back against his cock, dragging her syrupy cunt over it as she failed entirely to line him up. Now he was certain that this is what the captive Human in that folktale felt like. Flare was impossible to resist, and the nature of the bond between them made him not want to. She'd the look of an intimidating monster – but at the same time, the sweetness of a hopeless virgin. Mad with desire, she ground herself against his crotch, failing to impale herself while whining her frustrated passion into his neck.

So much for fucking her into his servile pet! First, she'd forced him to eat her cunt, and now she was on top. At this rate, Chris might end up the first Human to ever submit to a Pokémon. Probably. Sheer luck leveraged her weight back and the tip of his cock caught at the indentation of her undertail, slipping forward to press against her cunt and very narrowly avoiding the wrong hole. Though that did bring about an idea… maybe later. He'd only that brief moment to dwell on the inspiration before in a single drop of the hips, Flare stripped herself of her virginity, slamming his cock to the hilt. Her cervix was pierced sheerly by the force of that motion, and Chris gasped with a combined pleasure-pain, spared injury only by the steel hardness of overwhelming arousal.

As for Typhlosion, “WROAWR!?" Her inner gate had not even the opportunity to be battered into submission, and now she had been breached to her untouched core by the cock that owned her. Claws curled into pads, her body slumping over her Human as her eyes rolled back in her head. If not for the intense pain of it, then the sheer bliss of surrender and the absolute pleasure of having her womb scraped by a superior Human cock might have made her faint.

Her hindquarters moved purely on instinct, dragging back and forth in a familiar grinding motion as his hilted cock stirred up her insides, “So… So good!? Ahh!" The sharpness of the pain, the excitement of pleasure, she revelled in it all. Flare had pursued her Master for a long time, the thought of mating him long-held desire, and now she indulged frustrations and lusts that had overflowed into madness. The mass of cock inside her was far superior to what she would expect from her own species, the slender baculum scaffolded length of her Typhlosion kin impossible to compare to the long and thick shaft stretching out her insides.

The lips of her cunt had parted lewdly about him, her pronounced clit grinding hard between their bodies. Her pudgy midriff prevented there being any obvious bulge to be seen against her abdomen, but for the first time, Flare seriously considered putting genuine effort into losing weight if it meant that she could not only feel, but watch, the motions of her Master's cock inside of her. How long could she even keep this up? Maybe if she trained to have a little more stamina, she'd be able to ride his lap until she was completely satisfied…

Flare indulged a rare unselfish thought. Her Master was always doing his part, working all the time. Maybe this was how she did hers? Could she really call herself his cumdump womb-slave if she didn't have the strength to satisfy him all on her own? Though, it was hard to follow that thought to the sort of meaningful conclusion that might have adjusted her attitude right now. Now while her needy cunt was contradicting the idea by desperately seeking pleasure from her Human. She needed his cock. She needed her womb scraped out. She needed a thick and creamy load of superior Human cum to put out the madness of her heated core.

So, she finally marshalled the effort needed to lift herself up, hindlegs quivering, and then drop back down onto his cock, the sensation of his withdrawal from her womb and breeching of her cervix anew just as visceral as the first time, “Giratina's forbidden cunt, fuck! It hurts so good!" The hilting of his maleness stretched her insides and crushed her pronounced clit between them, the sensitive lips of her cunt spread wide about the cock claiming her. Already she could feel the first droplets of precum inside of her, and it made her womb itch, her grasping insides desperate for more as the writhing clutch of her own orgasm wringed at his cock, “Maaassssteeeerrrrr!"

Her whining was that of a hopeless sex-addict, a virgin turned slut that from today forth, wouldn't manage to get by without a daily breeding and at least one load of her Master's cum fucked into her. Needy, bratty, entirely unashamed about her own desires, if he didn't give her a thorough mating, then she'd take one from him! Even if she had to completely reenact that folktale and confine him in their lair, fucking with womb-busting sex and breeding creampies until by some miracle she broke the laws of the world and somehow got knocked up! She'd been a good girl (she hadn't) and Arceus owed her Master's egg (He didn't)!

Chris had been given more than an hour to recharge, though still benefitted from the dullness that came in the wake of a male orgasm. Since she'd so graciously guzzled down his cum before the callout, it'd be a good while before he was worked to another peak, and he didn't see much of a problem with surrendering himself to the pin of the Typhlosion riding his cock. Her insides were a grasping vice, a wet and silken embrace of pure heat and pleasure, and Flare was riding him with the fervent desperation of a female chasing her orgasm. And for her, that chase didn't stop for even a moment after she achieved climax, the next one never too far behind.

This pretty much confirmed that his Pokémon was some sort of nymphomaniac. Chris' own inner narrative was a little bit kinder than Flare's preferred degradation of 'wombslave cumdump', though in the future, a very embarrassing conversation with Fynn would see him corrected. The sight of her was spellbinding, the desperation of her rolling hips, intensity of her moans, grasping cunt and quivering pleasure – Flare was a creature more erotic than her Master had ever imagined.

And she belonged to him completely. That fact rekindled the fire inside of him. This Pokémon was his belonging, and it was his right to breed her as he pleased. She was breathing heavily now, her motions slowed, her stamina near spent, but he was close to giving her the load that she was so desperate for. Her unintelligible voice mumbled into his neck, “Cum, cum, cum! Please! I need Master to – need your cum! Breed me! Claim my – my inferior species – cunt! Mark the womb that – that you own!" It was as hard to force out the words as when she was on the treadmill, but just like she couldn't withhold her sass for the Vaporeon, she couldn't dam the flood of desperate begging for her Master, either. Restraint of any kind was just impossible for Flare.

“Flare…!" He growled her name, his chest rumbling with a dominant thrum. The heat and pressure on his cock was too perfect, the grasping need of her cumhungry insides milking him fervently to the roll of her hips and the squirting wetness of yet another mewling femgasm. His body was soaked with them, her scent entirely subsuming him. He was claimed, and now he was about to claim her. The growl intensified into something animalistic, and Chris flooded her bestial womb with thick ropes of superior Human cum, hosing down her insides as the trembling Pokémon slumped over him, her inner fire defeated.

The Typhlosion yielded completely, her consciousness swept away on a cloud of absolute satisfaction. Something primal inside of her had been satisfied, and it was only the immutable rule of a Pokémon being unable to harm a Human that allowed her the strength to roll off the Master she was now crushing beneath her slumped weight. She lay on her back, scarcely aware of anything beyond the bliss of a womb fucked into submission, a loosened cervix and gaped pussy from which dripped the creamy white essence of her Master over the small protrusion of fur that served as a tail for her species.

Sex was everything that she had dreamed it would be. And it wasn't over yet. The Master from which she had so selfishly demanded her pleasure had dragged himself to his knees, “Time to put you in your place…" His cock was undiminished, and while Flare may be out of steam, he had another orgasm in him before he was done, and he knew exactly where he was going to put it. Chris loomed over his Typhlosion, finally freed of her weight and her bestial desires, it was time for him to indulge himself.

She wanted her Master to be dominant. She wanted him to use her. But when he towered over her like this, she found herself to be as paralyzed as he had been when she had stalked him as a shadow wreathed in fire. Did this mean that he was accepting her? Was this affirmation of their mateship, or just raw instinct-driven desire? She didn't know. But what she did was that it made her chest tingle and her cum-basted insides throb. Was he going to breed her again? Fuck her needy pussy into a sloppy mess? The thought of it made her pawtoes curl.

“You don't get to complain." It felt wonderful to hear him use the same reasoning by which she demanded pleasure from him. Flare belonged to him. Of course, she wasn't going to complain! His cock, a mess of his own cum and her abundant femslick draped over her oozing cunt. And then went lower.

“Yeeeeessssssss…!" She moaned her approval as his cock caught at her undertail a second time, pressing against an opening already well-inundated with fluids. Fynn had raved about anal, and she'd been desperate to try- “Fuuuuck!?"

He felt huge. Well, he felt huge in her cunt, battering her poor lesser species womb into Human-dominated submission. But this was different. Her body may have been larger than the Vaporeons, but it was much less malleable, the pain of his rampaging cock far exceeding any pleasure. Though, she had no room to cry out about it. Her muzzle was entirely incompatible with a Human kiss, but that didn't stop her Master from forcing himself on her, meeting her slavering maw in an absolute mess of interspecies bonding.

It distracted from the pain of his well-lubricated cock sheathing under her tail, as did the thought of the telling off that she was going to give Fynn. Pokémon were very durable, and she adjusted quite quickly, though the bloated feeling and sheer heft of his cock inside of her still felt ruinous. And then, her Master broke from their sloppy kiss, and began to move, “Ahhh!? Fuck! That – That's!?" It was enough for her to maybe reconsider thrashing that Vaporeon (she'd lose, guaranteed)!

There was a unique feeling of defilement, each thrust met with a sloppy shlicking sound as the mass of his cock reshaped her insides and fucked the mess of his cum out of her drooling cunt, her leaking pussy twitching in time to every hilting. That alone made orgasm immediate for her, and the pleasure of cumming with a full womb made her writhe in blissful delight. It felt like his cock was dragging out her undertail, his orbs slapping at her with a wet sound in a dull rhythm. This was nothing like being on top!

She looked up to her Master, watching this masculine creature take possession of her, thrust by thrust, and her lower body quivered. His pace was increasing. Not because he was needily pursuing his own orgasm, but because he had the stamina to fuck her into broken submission with naught but the strength of his form and the mass of his cock. Her heart fluttered. Claiming. That is what this was. She'd taken a load of cum into her maw, and her well-bred womb was leaking some of its contents from her gape-fucked cunt. All that was left was a mess of his cum under her tail, and that would be it, her fantasy fulfilled.

“This is – is – what I'm for!" She moaned, “Mate me! Please! Use me!" Flare began to surrender, her instinctual pursuit of pleasure that was driven by her own desperate need to cum herself stupid on her Master's cock now twisted towards servility, her yielding body there only for his use. Was she a whore, active and dedicated to his pleasure, or a mewling slut there to offer herself up to his desires? Flare was a mess of contradictions, but one thing was for sure, “I love you! Master!"

It was probably quite appropriate for a Pokémon so true to her desires to choose to utter those words to him at a time when his cock was hilted under her tail, the scent of his cum on her breath, and her ruined cunt leaking a thick creampie. Leave class and decorum to the Humans. Flare felt it, so she said it. And it didn't matter if her Master said it back. She'd spread her pussy, open her muzzle, and raise up her undertail for him, until he did! And then she'd do all of those things even more! Her Human was going to breed her every day whether he liked it or not! That had nothing to do with her submission to him! That was just what she was owed!

Her words may have been incomprehensible to him, but the intent behind them was not. Chris felt her surrender, the moment when he'd grappled his way ontop and claimed her in full. Not that he wouldn't mind being tackled to the ground to have his cock ridden every once in a while. But that would be his little secret. Maybe if he didn't fuck her that day, she'd ambush him at night? Yeah. That sounded about right for Flare. She was so bad at denying herself that he was sure that the padlock on the fridge was already melted off.

He shook his head. What the fuck sort of nonsense was he thinking when she should be focusing on fucking his Typhlosion beast-wife into broken submission? Chris snarled and leveraged his weight to thrust down his hips, the gradual advancement of his body lifting her haunches into his midriff. Missionary was becoming mating press, and the sight of his cum oozing from her femgasm spasming cunt to crawl up her body was a wonderful depravity. Every time she came, her expressive little pussy twitched for him, her insides grasping around the echo of his cock as he battered her undertail into the shape of his pleasure.

Her cunt was steaming, her breath a shimmering haze. His second orgasm was a long time coming, but the heat of the room was sapping his stamina. One more good cum would surely finish him off for the night, and his orbs were churning up a load of superior Human potency to defile her insides with. He grit his teeth, enjoying the idea of corruption. Flare – he remembered her as a cute little Cyndaquil riding along on his shoulder. Now she was his gluttonous mate of a Typhlosion, his nymphomaniac cumdump writhing on the end of his cock. Arceus' grace. He loved her. They were both idiots that entirely deserved each other.

It was quite a wholesome thought to contrast with the vulgar pleasure of fucking his orgasm under her tail. Flare moaned whorishly, her own final climax a squirting expression of female pleasure, the mess of femslick and cum being fucked out of her ruined pussy having advanced enough down her chest to have completely basted her front. Chris dragged his cock free, pleased with the sight of her gaping insides and the second mess now frothed up about her crotch in a truly lewd mess. Master collapsed beside his well-fucked Pokémon, too exhausted to even make it to the bed.

She looked a mess, and he doubted that he was exactly unblemished either. Their combined fluids were a sticky quagmire baked by the natural heat of the Typhlosion. Forcing her into the shower was going to be a nightmare. Maybe he could tempt her with the idea of fucking in the tub? Oh. Flare was giving him a slightly lonely look. No. An intentionally lonely look. Really, it was an expectant one. Cuddle me. That's what she was… demanding. And he never could deny any of those.

A small jerk of the head brought her into the crook of his arm, and she snuggled against him with her satisfying heat of pudge. He smiled, “Guess that little prayer to Jirachi came through for me afterall, huh?" Chris shook his head, cuddling back with his Pokémon, “Gotta wonder if the other half worked out… Nah. No way I'd be that lucky, right?" He was. He just didn't know it yet. And when he'd find out about his lottery windfall, he'd insist that he'd again shed only a single manly tear and that anyone claiming he'd wept in sheer relief was a liar!

He couldn't say that he'd understood everything that happened, but Chris wasn't the type to sweat the small stuff. They'd connected on an instinctual level, and if there was anything else that was important, he had the benefit of having a friend with a talking Pokémon. It was a little late for his grand declaration. That was supposed to come at the start. Now, it was the end. But, late was better than never.

“I love you, Flare. Be my mate."

The Pokémon didn't need words to affirm that. She'd got what she wanted, as usual. Just like the Typhlosion in that Folklore tale. Their mess of a relationship was never going to change. And maybe that was a good thing. Well… maybe she could afford to do a little exercise. For him. Not because she was fat. Fuck you. And with that final rebuttal to her internal narrative, she clambered atop her mate, kissed him hard, and fell asleep.

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story (I suppose this counts as my one year celebration story!). And I hope you're enjoying the current crop of Typhlosion memes, too! I had a lot of fun experimenting with a writing style that interacted with the reader a little in the form of those internal monologues and such, and I do hope that it all landed. I absolutely fell in love with Flare in the first section, and really had a good time bringing this absolute mess of a Typhlosion to the end. There were a few versions of this story, some a lot more serious in tone, but in the end, I reworked it into something more light-hearted. It seemed to fit these two a lot better than a heavier narrative.

Special thanks to everyone that provided suggestions, support, and kind words when I pitched this story to begin with. Afrank2016, Airwall, Loup Garou, Aaron97, Forgefather381, Vulcan21, NoNoNope, Etnom, Greenhoof, and TheDragonWhisperer (your PM made this story happen to begin with – though I do apologise that we ended up with the sexes the other way around!). Thanks as well to those that commented with encouragement and ideas on the teaser, Samael028, NoNoNope, and Cyril Dran.

As always, I'm very grateful for all of your help and support. If anyone reading this has any ideas or suggestions for stories, please don't hesitate to drop a comment or PM. I can't make any promises, but your thoughts always get my mind working, and something always ends up surfacing somewhere down the line! You're all legends, and I'm always overjoyed to hear from you. I want to write stories that people enjoy, so hearing what series, creatures, themes, and everything else you're into really helps! My big question, if I had to pick would be… for a story with a Female Human lead, what would be a good Pokémon to pair them with? Any kinks, lewd themes, or story ideas? I feel a little bad that the scattered votes on which way around to do the sexes had me make my own call this time – so, to make it up, I want to eventually get around to the other way around!

If you like this, then you may want to see more of Fynn in Hey Master, Did You Know? – or to check out the Pokémon Breeding Guide, which is the setting in which this story takes place (and on hold for now). My current project is Escape From Palworld, and provided I don't get distracted again, I'll be working on that next.

Have a most excellent day.