FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Through a narrow swath of forest we came to a turning of the trail at a short fence, beyond which was a ranged practice field. At one end, to our right at various distances, were static targets and, to our left, the positions from which people with ranged weapons and Pokémon with ranged abilities would take their shots. There were only three at the moment, though enough stations for twenty. A human with a bow, another with a golf club, and a Pikachu standing alone were taking pot shots at different targets or, in the case of the golfer, just seeing how far their shots would travel and with what accuracy. A Rapidash, apparently working with the golfer, zipped down range to recover each ball so fast it was hard to track.

Ebonflame pranced forward with an animated gekker, tail plumed high and I was forced to increase my pace to a jog to follow her. She crossed behind the users' stations and took up one near the center, hopping up to rest her paws on the control panel. She was batting at it, somewhat unsuccessfully, with her forepaws when I came to stand beside her. “Here, you want some targets?" I swiped my credit chit across the face to activate the station. She yapped merrily and moved out onto the platform.

I tapped to bring up a target at ten yards. Many Pokémon had very short range abilities, I did not know hers so started with one of the nearer options. She looked back over her shoulder, flattened her ears, and snarled. “Okay, okay." I reset the ten yard and selected fifty. She continued to snarl at me. I reset to one hundred and she gave a chuff and nod.

Spreading her legs slightly, tail curving up behind her, she stared fixedly downrange. Her hackles bristled, then her fur fluffed, and then burst into that dark flame. It was so intense she was a shadowy suggestion in its depths but I felt no heat. As I watched the flames swirled up and then, quite abruptly, leaped downrange in a whoosh to splash against the ground a few feet to one side of the target. Ebon's flames winked out and she stared downrange in a posture I could only assume was 'aghast' at having missed. She repositioned, took up her stance, summoned the flames, and launched them again.

This was a better shot, striking slightly to the left of center on the target but immediately igniting the entire thing in a column of ink black flames about ten feet high. I watched as the paint peeled to reveal the metal beneath which began to… well, glow, I guess. But not the orange glow of metal at extreme temperatures; it glowed black.

Nozzles burst from the ground to either side of the target and began spraying it with streams of water that had no effect. The water did not sizzle into steam, however, just splashed against the ever darkening target to puddle on the ground. Eventually the water ceased and foam erupted from the nozzles with a shrill hiss, coating the target but not quenching the flames.

Instead the flames leaped from the target, reversing their original arc, and disappeared back into Ebon's aura of black flame before guttering out.

---

Somewhere, far across the city in the bowels of an Executive tower, a long neglected system awoke from its slumber and began sounding an alarm.

---

Downrange the metal target frame was slowly sagging, deforming the same way I would expect metal under the intense geyser of a Flareon's power to melt. A Flareon, however, needed to be a lot closer than one hundred yards, at least to my knowledge. Current Arena fields were one hundred twenty by sixty yards and I had never seen any Pokémon launch their powers more than half that distance. Not that I really watched many Arena games unless a friend had it on their holo bay so my knowledge was limited.

“What the blazes was that?" A feminine voice said in astonishment, drawing my attention over to the archer who now stood just a few feet away, mouth agape. The Pikachu that had been at another station stood behind one of her legs with a similar expression of fearful awe.

“I have no idea." I said with a shrug as the little foxy Pokémon returned to my side looking cheerfully proud.

“What was that target at, a hundred yards?"

“Yeah."

“Wow. I've never seen any land Pokémon with that sort of range. Prince, here can only reach thirty which is above average for his type, but he can't melt a target." She motioned down at her black marked yellow companion. “Your Pokémon play in the arenas?"

I shrugged. “Used to, I guess. I don't know much of her past."

“How long have you been bonded?" The woman looked downrange at the shortened target with a shake of her head in amazement.

“We're not. I've only known her for about three days." I glanced down and, sensing my regard, Ebonflame looked up with a toothy vulpine grin, head held high, eyes shining a bright emerald green. “Apparently she's a showoff." I dropped a hand to ruffle between her ears.

“And how." The archer chuckled. “Prince and I are trying. Maybe we'll get into the minors this season but, with luck, we'll get into the national rotation of independants. You should really consider it. With that sort of range and power she could be formidable."

“It's up to her, honestly. I'm just caretaking, for now. On that, I should get moving. We need to get her checkup at the clinic."

“She looks like a fine girl. Good luck." She tapped her brow with the tip of the long recurve bow she held. “We'll be watching for you." With her companion hastily retreating before her the archer jogged to catch up, calling after it.

I glanced down and laughed at Ebon's toothy vulpine grin. “Yeah, showoff, let's go." I ruffled between her ears again, enjoying the satin smoothness of her warm, dense fur. With a burring gekker of happiness she trotted along at my side, head and tail high.

We did not have to wait long to be seen at the clinic, only a single unaccompanied rock type ahead of us. After it disappeared into the back only a few minutes passed before the receptionist escorted us into the back, down a hallway so white it was almost blinding. Ebon stood out like a living shadow in the sparkling cleanliness as we were escorted to an exam room to wait.

The clinician came in a minute later, reading over the sparse information I put on the registration form. “Hello, I'm doctor Yaleah." She held out her hand and I shook it before she dropped it toward Ebon to examine. “Unknown type, unknown age, unknown abilities. You're quite the mystery, little one." She said directly to the black, overlarge fox. “Reference name Ebonflame?" The fox and I nodded at the same time.

“Reference name?" I asked and Yaleah looked up.

“Some Pokémon choose their names and usually get some sort of tag to proclaim it. Others do not, and simply use their Type name instead. I guess you could say it's a pronoun, of sorts, so we know how to address them." She patted the exam table which was not the simple flat steel table I'd seen in the past. It had a thick, dense pad on it that Ebon's paws found easy purchase on when she hopped up onto it easily. The clinician stepped back, glancing at a small display at one end of the table. I saw it read fifty seven pounds. Somehow the tallness leant by her long legs, and that deep coat of lush black fur made me imagine she was heavier.

“Okay, miss Ebonflame, hold still while I conduct a physical exam." Flame straightened like a show dog on a pedestal and Yaleah began stroking, poking, and prodding at her. She lifted Flame's lips to examine her teeth, tongue, and even took a whiff of her breath before moving on to examine her ears with a scope. “Nice physical condition, clean teeth and healthy breath." She said and notated on her tablet. “Good ear canals, typical accumulation of waxes so they don't need flushing." Using a small lense she peered into the Pokémon's eyes. “Green iris, black sclera. Nice and clean, no cloudiness. Young." I neglected to mention that Flame's eyes had a habit of changing colors. Rummaging in a drawer below the exam table she progressed toward Flame's hindquarters.

“Little prod here, miss Ebonflame, need to take a temperature, okay?" She asked as her hand slid down Flame's back and hips before lightly grasping just behind the root of her tail and drawing it up. The black Pokémon didn't even flinch as the thermometer disappeared beneath the long, thick plume. “Have you bred, miss?" She asked as she waited for the thermometer to register a reading which she noted before flicking the sanitary jacket into a nearby wastebasket and secreting the probe back into its drawer. Ebonflame bobbed her head at the question and I quirked an eyebrow.

“Bred?"

Yaleah glanced up at me and nodded. “Vulval body size indicates she's bred, but her nipple presentation indicates no whelping; she's never produced milk or nursed young. Considering her evolution state that is not unexpected, many are not fertile before their final evolution but are mature enough for all the prerequisites by their third evolution."

Evolution state I understood well enough, absorbing its details through osmosis listening to people talk about them though I'd never taken any formal Pokémon classes, most certainly not Pokémon husbandry. “How old is she, then? I don't know what her evolution status is."

“Most likely third evolution." Yaleah explained as she continued her examination of Flame's backside under her upraised tail. “That's when they're physically mature. In a human that would equate to about fifteen to thirty years. The wear on her teeth, even after attaining her third evolution, leads me toward what would be mid twenties by human standards." She chuckled and released Flame's tail, giving it a stroke before making a few more notes on her tablet. “They get pretty randy after attaining their third evo. That settles slightly at their fourth, usually final, evolution, but that is when many become fertile. How long have you known her?"

“Uh, about three days?"

“Ah, okay. Logical that you would not know much of her history. And, without some rather expensive translation equipment, or a translator, the language barrier prevents them from telling us much." She chucked Flame under the chin lightly with the side of a finger. “As for her type, which I see you also left blank, I can't really say much based just on her admittedly stark coloration. Clearly of the vulpine lineage, but that encompasses many non-evolved base types. Evolution focus further splits the potential tree. Her current configuration," she motioned at Flame's long legs and ears, “is more along the lines of a Maned Wolf rather than true vulpine, which only complicates things further. I would have to run a lot of genetic panels to make a firm determination of origin base, which can take months. Have you seen her express her abilities?"

I chuffed a soft grunt. “Yeah. Some sort of… eh, flame, I guess? But it's just as black as she is. Melted a target on the practice range on the way over here, at one hundred yards." I explained as Flame settled to a sitting position on the table which put her on eye level with us though Yaleah was an inch or so taller than I was. “And the suppressants could not put it out."

Yaleah's eyes widened, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly, impressed. “Very impressive. A little scary, even. How was the fire extinguished? I certainly hope you didn't just leave it burning?"

“She sucked it back to herself."

“Fascinating. I would love to study her more in the future. Do you have any indication now long she'll be in this area? Do you know where she came from?"

“No idea, and an antique Pokémon trap ball."

Yaleah blinked in surprise. “Someone trapped her in a pokeball? I thought those were no longer produced due to the emancipation laws."

“I think she was in one for… I don't know. A century? I found one while I was picking up trash a bit off the roadside. I had to dig it out of the ground. When I cleaned it up and activated it, it released her. She was, of course, rather upset at the passage of time. Somehow I think she was very close to whomever owned that ball, long ago."

“Ouch. That is terribly unfortunate." She turned her attention back to Flame and gave her shoulder a consoling stroke. “She doesn't even know how things are, now? Only the trainers and battles before the emancipation revolution?"

“I'm doing what I can to help her acclimatize." I said, stroking the Pokémon's back. “Once she's got a grasp on the modern existence of emancipated Pokémon I will allow her to make her own choices."

“Have you tracked the serial number on the ball?"

“I didn't see one?"

“Ah. I think there's some way to open that little activation button and the charging port is there, alongside the digitization mechanism. The serial number is etched there, somewhere. It's covered in our schooling, because these things do sometimes happen when people find functional traps stored away in attics or basements, et cetera."

“What happens to the Pokémon in them when they run out of power?"

“When power reaches minimal safe digitization levels they're discharged from the holding matrix. We can only hope that it's somewhere safe for the released Pokémon. Do you remember where you found it?"

“Roughly, yes."

“Report the find to the board of Pokémon affairs, they'll send a team out to excavate the area and see if there are any more to recover." She tucked the tablet under her arm and gave Flame's shoulder a stroke. “Otherwise, I see she's in good health and good hands that you brought her here rather than just toss her onto the street to figure things out for herself. We're done, for now, but drop by any time. I would love to learn more about her."

“You want a cell culture for those panels?"

“Hmm? Oh, yes, if you're willing, miss Ebonflame." Flame bobbed her head, following the conversation quietly, the plume of her tail swishing a soft hiss across the table behind her. Yaleah went to a shelf and brought down a handful of swabs, intravenous needle and sample vials. The process was quick, of someone invasive. A few swabs of Flame's cheek, one rather deep into her vulva. I noticed then, as I hadn't before, that the triangle of black flesh did indeed seem uncharacteristically large in comparison to her overall physique but, not knowing much about canine anatomy, even less about vulpine, and not a whit about whatever genus Maned wolf was, I could only go on the clinician's observations that it was a condition caused by breeding. Had she been bred shortly before being interred in the little red and white prison? I had no way of knowing.

I asked about a recommended diet while the Vet was taking her samples and she explained that Flame could eat whatever I did. While a diet of human food was not especially healthy it would not cause too many issues if the Pokémon was active. Even chocolate, in moderation, was not an issue which I thought was a big no-no for carnivore types.

A couple of carefully drawn vials of blood later we were free to leave. The cost was covered by the State, for Pokémon and humans, so there was nothing but the exit paperwork to complete before we left the clinic.

The next stop was a salon for Pokémon which was barely a block away and we arrived earlier than expected for the appointment that I had made. They exclaimed over Ebonflame, of her uniqueness, and showered her with attention. They were not condescending, as they might be with a child, but they were not servile, either. They treated her as exactly what she was; intelligent if not human.

I stayed out in the waiting room with a couple of other humans dispossessed of their charges and we chatted about inconsequential things, until one of the men dropped at one of the methods modern Pokémon used to evolve. Without the constant battles and training of the past it was much more difficult for Pokémon, those not competing in arena games, to evolve. I focused on the man, whose Zebstreka, some sort of equine based Pokémon, was in for a hoof trim and general pampering.

It was not much slower than combat evolution, considering both methods were used by wild Pokémon as they aged. The most common, and slowest, method of evolution was simply age. The first and second evolutions took five to ten years with the third somewhere around twenty depending on the type. Full evolution, however, could take upwards of fifty years if age were the sole determining factor. But, in the wild, Pokémon used other methods.

Both primary methods were used in nature; battle either hunting prey, surviving, and mating. Since many could not reliably reproduce even in their third, mature evolution they were left with either going out and proving their worth against other Pokémon and prey, or to mate. The man found that hilarious, but had seen the research and the anecdotal experiences of others who let their bonded Pokémon mate as they wished. While not as effective or swift as hunting or battle, it was far more efficient than simply letting time take its course.

So the man was spending silly amounts of money to move around, finding willing mates for his Zebstreka. And, apparently, the type of mate did not matter. He was actively avoiding other equine types, neither he nor his bonded companion wanting foals of the endeavor, so was focusing on others of comparable size for the act.

And, of course, pampering his lady at salons wherever he went to keep her in an attractive state for potential suitors. But any expense was worth it, to him, for his lady.

I was more than a little bemused at the idea. Going out to let my Lass attract the eye of potential suitors, and letting her get fucked silly just to advance her evolution state to the next tier. Hell, was she even 'my' Lass, after all. I was just her defacto handler until she decided for herself what she wanted, or whom to bond with if anyone.

The man was still there, holding court about the places he had traveled with his Pokémon, things he had done while she was otherwise occupied, when one of the receptionists called me to the front. The storyteller laughed as I got up to leave. “Be lucky you've got such a dainty one. I'll be here another few hours, yet."

Ebonflame was not much changed, of course, she had been a pretty thing before going into the back. But a skin deep bath, grooming, and trimming had taken that prettiness and made it radiant. Her fur seemed to shimmer with a luster that drank in the light, returning muted rainbow hues like an oil slick as she pranced back to me, head high and tail flicking behind her happily. I stroked my fingers lightly between her tall, pricked ears, surprised to find that the satin smooth softness had gained an even more luxuriant texture. While I paid the bill, since salons were not covered by the State as health care was, she pranced and showed off to those still in the waiting room. The storyteller gave me a huge grin and two thumbs up while the others openly admired the midnight black Pokémon at my side.

After leaving the salon we made our way to the south end of the park where the open market was. No vehicles or other conveyances were allowed except during carefully proscribed delivery hours so it was not crowded like the grocery I usually visited on my way home from work. We wandered aimlessly through the few hundred stalls that were spread out over tens of acres so even a couple thousand shoppers could be there and not seem crowded. I let Flame examine what she wished, to see if anything struck her fancy, mostly on the edibles front. Other than eggs I didn't know what her normal diet was.

“Oh, wow, a Duskmuse!" One of the vendors exclaimed, coming out from behind his wares to kneel in front of Flame. “Really rare, I've never seen one except in holos."

“A what?" I asked as the man extended a hand to let Flame examine it, but did not move to touch her.

“Duskmuse. Fox type, usually dark but with blue markings." He drew imaginary lines below his eyes and the bridge of his nose. “Totally useless for battle so were never popular, and so very, very rare outside of the Tinken Forests. Their ability is to make their bond-mate extremely creative. They've become popular among artists and the like."

“That's not her ability, she's a fire type." I said as Flame turned her attention to the man's stall. He was selling what looked like huge grubs or caterpillars in small boxes.

“Fire type? Like a Flareon? I've never seen a black one before, without markings." The man said as we watched Flame sniff at the wriggling grubs, apparently finding them appealing.

“I haven't been around her much so I don't know the extent of her abilities, but I have seen her use a fire like one. Quite impressive. What are those things she's so interested in?" I wandered over to look down into the box of grubs. Each was probably as long as my hand from palm to fingertip and quite fat.

“Pulki. A crop pest that we collect from farms around here. A lot of Pokémon enjoy them, as they're quite nutritious and not toxic." A mole-like Pokémon was snoozing on a large pillow behind the stall, probably the one that did most of the collecting. “And, since we get them free, aren't terribly expensive to sell."

“How well do they keep after you've caught them?"

“Pretty well. I advise people keep them on the top shelf of their chill box where they go into torpor. They can last a few weeks that way."

I bought a box, which held perhaps ten of the things. They didn't put out any odor I could discern but Flame was quite taken with them. When I offered her one she made short work of it, careful not to soil the fur of her muzzle as she made it disappear in three rather wet sounding bites, offering a pleased purring like burr of sound as she licked her whiskers clean of the unpleasant looking yellow goop the grub had contained. I chuckled at her pleasure, stroking between her ears and along her neck as we wandered on.

We returned to my flat three bags and a box of grubs heavier. While I stored the groceries Flame pranced into the main room and curled up on the sofa with a huge yawn. “Long day, lass?" I asked, hanging the bags by the door. She gekkered sleepily and nodded over the bush of tail wrapped about herself. “You get a nap while I go catch up on some mail and work, I'll make us something to eat in a couple of hours." She nodded, yawning again, and buried her muzzle under her tail once more. I went back to the second bedroom, which I had converted to my home office, and sat down to spend some idle time with correspondence.

When I came out a couple of hours later Flame was still on the couch, now sprawled out on her back, front legs tucked to her chest while her rear legs were splayed rather lewdly to either side showing off her vixen package. I spared her only a glance as I set about preparing dinner; lightly sauteed fish and vegetables for me, another grub and a couple of raw eggs for her.

“You hungry, Lass?" I called as I set the plates on the table. Flame roused herself and rolled over on the couch. Dropping her front down she stretched with her hind legs still on the sofa, her tail lashing as she relaxed from the pose and shook herself. Padding to the table she hopped up onto her customary chair, which I had pulled out just enough for her to sit in it and reach her plate.

She ate demurely, keeping pace with my own eating, stilling the grub with a single bite to remove its head but taking her time with the rest. She lapped at the yolk colored fluid leaking from the grub, then her eggs, her erect ears keeping track of the sounds of my own eating so that we finished more or less at the same time.

While I dealt with the dishes she sat at the entry and watched, lush tail lazily sweeping back and forth on the faux hardwood behind her. Thankfully I kept my flat as clean as I could so the floor would not ruin the wonderful work done by the salon. Afterward I retired to the sofa and she leapt up to stretch out along the rest of it, propping her head in my lap to enjoy some attention while I turned on the holo frame.

With one hand stroking the luxury of the fur along her neck and shoulders I scrolled through the thousands of options to a program I had been keeping up with. It just so happened to feature a human war mage and his Pokémon companion, a huge white equine type with a long spiraling horn sprouting from the center of her brow. While styled as a magic filled adventure, there were some elements of romance, and rather blatant ribaldry, carefully slipped into it.

Between the man and his Pokémon mount, of course. She, at least, could actually speak without the necessity of a device or translator tagging along. That was, apparently, due to a spell used by the rather stunning looking war mage. That handsome personage is why I watched, to ogle over him and laugh at the mare flirting mercilessly with him while he was absolutely, utterly oblivious. Apparently he was rather astoundingly endowed, too, going by the response of a brothel mistress when he requested a bath. “Ye many gods, sire, but none of my girls will be entertainin' ye, no sir. That mare might, but I swear even she might be sore after." Of course what she was talking about was not shown, much to my dismay. The cameras were also always careful not to show that his companion actually was a mare, either.

Prudes. Despite the fact that, like Flame, Pokémon generally wore not a stitch of clothing except the occasional bipedal types. As if people didn't get an eyeful just walking down the street. Or had a companion now stretched out on her back, legs akimbo while my idle fingers worked through the thick fur of her chest and belly. Occasionally I would feel the nub of a nipple but they were pretty small things, as the clinician had said, and I gave them no direct attention. I didn't even notice how the occasional inadvertent caress would make Flame twitch.

A couple hours and two more programs later we turned in. Flame seemed content to follow my schedule which, honestly, made sense. Without hands or speech it was not easy for them to be truly Independent in human designed cities, much less dwellings, which is why they attached themselves to a companion human.

Which, I guess, is what Flame was doing, or had already done. It felt good to have another body sharing my bed again, after more than five years without. Even if that body wasn't a human, or male, or an amorously inclined male which I had, on occasion, shared a night or two with.

Never more than that. That dickweed Brody probably would have been no different in that regard. He was certainly a nice piece of eye candy, but probably not much beyond that.

Flame shoved her muzzle between my thighs as I emerged from the bathroom clothed as I usually was for bed which is to say, as much as she was; with nothing. I twitched back reflexively as her muzzle twitched up, pressing against my sack, and snuffled as I reached down to ruffle along her neck and shoulders. She certainly did have a rather persistent way of asking for scritches. I gave her a couple minutes of attention, enjoying the satin warmth of fur sliding under my fingers as her breaths snuffled under my balls, alternating between warm and cool.

Stepping back to free my thighs of her slender muzzle I turned to the bed, drew the covers back, and slipped beneath them. After I had settled myself Flame jumped lightly up onto the bed and curled herself in the hollow of my body.

“What are you doing, Paul?" I laughed as my boyfriend of almost half a decade held me down and lavished my slumbering cock with hot, slow swathes of his tongue. He had never been such a licker, well, except when he was face down in the crack of my ass going all out on my tight back door as if expecting there to be a clit to coax orgasm from down there. That had been one of his kinks, and he never minded at all that I did not share it; I gave his front more than enough attention with my own tongue, and mouth, and very saliva slicked ass.

But Paul was dead these past five years. That realization startled me out of the depths of my dream, past the dark interlude between one dream and the next, fully into wakefulness. And yet the hot, wet strokes upon my half-awakened cock continued.

What the fuck?

I looked down to see that, at some point, I had tossed the covers from myself down to the knee. I was still resting on my side, as normal, but the deep shadow upon them, curled up in the cup of my recumbent body, was giving me slow licks from tip to balls, from balls to tip, breaths hot against the damp flesh. I jerked my hips back in surprise and saw the shadow of Flame's head lift, a gleam of dark eyes in the gloom of moonlight spilling in through the thin curtains of the window.

“Flame, what the fuck?" I grumbled as I scrubbed my face and rolled onto my back, half awakened cock rolling across the dense hair of my groin that had not been trimmed once since Paul deployed - and never returned. “Don't do that! Shit." I reached down, grasped the covers, and yanked them back up to my shoulders as I rolled over to my other side. Flame let out a questioning gekker as she sat up to peer down at me, then a soft whine and growl. “That's not something Pokémon do, Flame, not with humans. Now, go back to sleep." I shifted my head to get comfortable and sought sleep again. After several minutes Flame stepped over me and hopped down off the bed, padding into the deeper darkness of my flat beyond my bedroom door.

It took me many long minutes to find the peace of my own slumber again, the air cool on my dampened erection as I waited for it to stop twitching and fade. The dream with Paul had been more of a nightmare, once more dredging up the revelation of his death. His parents had forsworn our love and, while they had been notified of his fall on the battlefield, I had not. I had to read his name among the list of the fallen almost full year later.

And now that damn Pokémon had awakened his memory and I feared to close my eyes and find it again, afresh.

But, eventually, sleep did find me again and within its embrace Paul was not waiting for me.

My mood was much improved when I awoke to the mid morning sun through the curtains and the sound of city life whispering through the walls of my flat. Even the anger I had felt toward Flame had faded so when I wandered out and found her curled up in the recliner I had no more ire toward her.

“I'll prepare breakfast, lass. Eggs for you or another of those Pulki?" I saw one of her ears twitch my direction but she did not otherwise move. I went about preparing eggs and bacon, preparing a plate for her with one of the bacon strips as well while the coffee brewed. “Food's on the table." I called to her as I set them down.

Her reply was a low series of grumbling growls I could not make out that slowly built until she raised her head, glared over her shoulder at me with ears back, eyes a dark umber hue I had not seen before, and spat out a short, harsh gekker that I needed no fancy technology or translator to figure out; “Fuck off!" In no uncertain terms. Her head disappeared again, her back to me in the chair, and she did not get up.

Caught off guard by the unexpected ire from the previously amiable Pokémon I simply sat and stared at her for several long minutes, but she did not move.

I sat alone and ate, occasionally having to re-capture the grub as it warmed up and began moving again. After I finished I made another cup of coffee the way I preferred it, picked up Flame's plate, and brought them to the main room to set on the end table beside the recliner. “Peace, lass, okay? I'll let you eat." Tentatively I reached down to stroke the soft fur of her shoulder. The fur fluffed a bit, her ears backing, but she did not move. Once more placing the grub on the plate, which it had made a mess of in its wriggling, I stood and retreated to my home office.

I sat at my desk for some time, idly clicking through the daily flood of junk e-mail, before sitting forward and bringing up a new search window. Human Pokémon relations; intimate I typed and set the search to work. I got back a flood of returns, the greatest majority of them highlighted with the deep red of pornographic warnings. A few were neutral colors, but I focused on the ones in the blue of scholastic research.

It was, to be brief, quite eye opening. Apparently there was quite a wide range of topics concerning human and Pokémon relationships, both intimate and platonic, that stretched back not the decades I would have expected since emancipation, but millennia. Humans had not always captured them in traps and set themselves as the masters. Long before the battle leagues they were more equals than master and involuntary conscripts, essentially slaves. Due to a more unified language and, of course, hands humans had always led, but Pokémon had not been pets or servants. Clearly, from those ancient stone carvings and cave paintings, they were partners, and even intimate ones.

And something had been laid out in the emancipation treaties of the nation I called home and many others, though not all, and in subsequent laws; Pokémon were considered fully sentient, intelligent beings capable of thinking for themselves and making their own decisions. One of those concerned acts of intimacy; a Pokémon could choose or reject of their own free will and current laws supported that. Non consent against them, or by them, was treated as harshly as non consent between humans, or between Pokémon themselves.

Though how they could communicate an assault to the law I had no idea, considering their linguistic limitations.

Marriage was simply not a thing between humans and Pokémon, or between Pokémon in general. Not that it was illegal, simply that Pokémon did not find it necessary as many of them seemed to be more or less monogamous by nature. Marriage was only an official thing between couples of compatible species that could successfully produce offspring.

I continued my research for a couple more hours before turning the computer off. I sat there for several minutes staring at the blank screen. Flame was attempting to initiate something I was terribly unsure of. I'd grown up around Pokémon, but only as aspects of the society in which I lived rather than any sharing our household. My parents had not disliked them, nor particularly seemed to like them, so I was left lacking in both knowledge and understanding. Of course, my parents had been a little put off by the direction of my sexuality as I grew up, but came to accept it, understanding that there would be no grandchildren of my loins to further their bloodline.

But my uncle had that covered, with nine children by three wives and two mistresses, so that angle of the bloodline was secure. He had not, in any way, ever accepted my choices, which was unfortunate. His fortune would have made life a bit easier if he'd seen fit to share it, which he had, nor did, not.

When I returned to the main room I saw that Flame had moved to the sofa, stretched out upright, one paw resting on the holo remote. A program was playing in the array, the volume down to a whisper. Her gaze shifted to me, eyes a pale amber that was almost white, as I crossed the room to pick up the plate and mug, both now empty, and take them to the sink. I then returned and sank into the recliner, staring at the program she had found.

It was an adult themed sitcom that appeared to consist of a quartet of humans, both paired, and a dozen or so Pokémon living either in a communal type of arrangement in a tight knit block of flats similar to my own. Of course, the comedy arose from their differing cultures, natures, backgrounds and a general inability to effectively communicate. It was like watching a game of charades as the group harangued about a badly leaking bit of plumbing flooding the commons. A pair of different water type Pokémon wanted to protect their new 'swamp' and the others wanted to repair it. One Pokémon, some sort of rabbit type, was creating images above its head at what it thought about the whole situation. The show's point of view seemed to be from that Pokémon.

A few of the scenes were hilariously awkward enough to elicit a few chuckles from me, especially when the rabbit projected a 'thought bubble' of the two water types trying to hatch a brood in the small lake growing in the commons. Of course, since it appeared one of the water types was enamored of one of the human males who was obviously in a closed monogamous relationship with another human male, the resulting thought bubble was just… soap bubbles on the puddle, containing nothing. Another thought bubble showed a riotous mob of the other water type's offspring - in diapers intended for humans - filling the commons by the hundreds and spilling into the communal living space, all needing their diapers changed badly.

Flame's dark golden eyes shifted to me as I chuckled and I caught a few stifled gekkr-coughs of what I imagined passed for her chuckles as well but she tried to keep me from noticing.

“Flame," I started after a couple of other programs she seemed to find more by accident while fumbling with the remote under one paw, “Last night, what you did. I'm sorry for reacting badly." She found the power button more easily and plunged the flat into the gloom of early evening. “Was that something your… trainer made you do?"

Her ears flattened back and she made burring sound of discontent while she shook her head in a sharp gesture. “But it is something you did." She peered at me and nodded, eyes once again a pale emerald hue. “Because he wanted you to?" She let out a burring sigh and rolled her eyes in exasperation before she shook her head sharply. “Because you wanted to?" An affirmative nod and she held out a paw in a strange gesture as if to accentuate the point - 'duh!'. “And … he? He accepted?" Another eye roll that ended with a sharp side eye; bluegreen. Again: 'duh!' “But you were in that trap. If you and he were… intimate… why did he put you in that trap?"

Flame let out a deeper sigh and rolled her head as if in thought, then stretched out and raised her forelegs above her head. The motion was extremely awkward but I figured out the gist of the charade after a few frustrated repetitions. “You wish you had thought bubbles like that holo program." She sighed and nodded, plopping her slim muzzle on her forepaws, frustrated at our inability to communicate. Or, rather, her inability to vocalize herself and was instead forced to act out charades with the limited range of her limbs.

“I get you." I said with a nod. “You and your trainer were intimate, lovers?" A slow nod. “I get it now. I didn't last night, I'm sorry." She nodded slowly, accepting my apology. How she and whomever had kept her trapped in that little ball could be intimate was quite beyond me, she was such a slight thing. Sure, she was incredibly tall, but she was also lean and quite small, all things considered. She only weighed a third what I did, after all.

I rose to prepare dinner and she lounged on the sofa, chin on the arm rest as she watched. Rather than just another egg and grub I cooked us both hamburgers and the same vegetables I'd seen her eat before, leaving out the ones she had dismissed. I cut her portions into smaller pieces so she wouldn't have to tear the burger apart. Even if she was a dainty eater, a burger was still going to be messy if she picked it apart.

After dinner we retired to the sofa once more, her head again in my lap, and watched a movie. She seemed to enjoy the high intensity action, though I thought the theme of Pokémon as villains a bit gouche. But then, many of the humans were just as villainous. All of the action heroes were, of course, human. Lacking the same abilities as Pokémon the idea of having powers was popular among humans.

And then, with full darkness fallen outside, it was time for bed. I went about my normal evening routine and Flame waited for me to climb into bed before hopping up and just… stood there, looking down at me. I looked up at her for several long moments before she let her head turn, her gaze drifting down along my shape under the covers, and then back up, a soft, inquisitive growl whispering from her throat.

I figured out what she was curious about quite quickly, and felt my maleness both try to shrink in upon itself and tingle in awareness of her intent. It had been months since I last shared a bed with someone, and that was at their flat rather than mine. I swallowed as she looked down at me and then, as if sensing my unease, turned about a couple of times and settling into the same hollow created by my body as she had before. I freed an arm to reach down and stroke her fur, not sure what I could say, or do, so I just let my fingers play into the deep, satiny fur for a long time. My manhood was keenly aware of her presence with nothing more between it and her attentions than a thin sheet and comforter.

Despite myself, it was awakening to the idea.

That, in itself, was not exactly strange. It was a cock, and they're notorious for their desire to be put to use. The fact that the focus of its eager awakening was both female and a Pokémon was immaterial. It had been too long neglected and demanded attention. Sure, I preferred guys, human males to be specific, but my cock was not above rising at the sight of a comely female in a skimpy bathing suit or full on naked, if seen briefly, on some holo programs.

After almost half an hour of warring with myself and enjoying Flame's fur I drew my arm in and lifted the covers. Since she lay on the side in front of me I had to draw them forward from behind until they spilled in an untidy heap between us. Flame raised her head, eyes sleepily half lidded, and looked at me in the moon lit darkness, and then down at what I had now left exposed. After a long minute of staring at the tumescence resting against my hip she looked up to meet my eyes again. I let my hand stroke the line of her jaw, an ear, the nape of her neck lightly and nodded.

A brief flash of pink appeared and drew down one side of her muzzle and then the other as she turned and, craning her neck, lowered her narrow muzzle to my groin to sniff. A soft, burring vulpine growl rumbled within her breast as her sniffs became more forceful, the cool touch of her nose pad working downward along my half awakened cock to nudge between my thighs to nuzzle my balls and inhale deeply of my musk, which was apparent even to my own nose; rich and deep and quite distinctly male.

I had never really been as consciously aware of my own musk, before, usually because the musk of another male was as close to my face as mine now was to her questing nose. With another man's scent in my nose I couldn't smell my own, but now it was the only masculine musk there was. Flame's was a subtle scent, of fur, the perfumed shampoos used in the salon, and a strange sort of smell I simply could not give description to except… heat. Like rock left to bake in the desert sun.

The first stroke of her tongue, hot and damp against my flesh, elicited a soft gasp from me and she paused to shift her head slightly. I could see the shadowed shape of one tall ear turned toward me but I could not see the gleam of her ink black eye in the shadows created between us. She shifted a paw to press the rumpled coverlet down and her muzzle drew closer. I could see my pale flesh easily enough in the curtain diffused moonlight, and the glistening pink of her tongue as it caught at the head of my cock and drew ever so slowly downward, taking the flavor of me just as her nose had drank in my scent. She rumbled and seemed to grow as her fur bushed and her tail whispered across the fabric over my legs.

Flame let out long, slow, low growls of all too evident pleasure as she leisurely stroked my cock with her slender tongue, from tip to balls and back. Very quickly my cock stood fully stiff, rising from my hip, bobbing and dropping with each torturously slow lick. Occasionally she would stop to stuff her nose into the crook between thigh and balls to inhale deeply and rumble, tail twitching and whispering in the darkness.

After what seemed like hours I felt her tongue cup at the blunt, broad head of my dick and draw it up. I knew just what she was about to do and let out a squeak of alarm, causing her to stop with my cock captured upon the heat of her tongue. “Flame, lass, dear, don't you think your muzzle is a bit too narrow for me?" Not that I was huge, far from it, but certainly well above average from what my partners had said in the past, and how my dick looked resting alongside theirs. Usually I was a bit longer, sometimes considerably, and usually about as thick but never more than a bit thicker. I had dueled cocks with longer ones not even a handful of times. Those were usually the ones quite a bit thicker than my own, and quite the stretch for whichever orifice they were pressed into.

And the memory of what those sharp, gleaming white teeth had done to those grubs left me more than a little fearful, so much so that my cock began to flag a little.

Flame merely let out a burring growl of breath as if to say 'I know what I'm doing' and resumed her torture, raising my dick up and adjusting the angle of her head until I felt the slow, solid glide of fangs along either side of my cock. Her tongue pressed upward, narrowing that already narrow passage still further, and I feared I would feel the cutting edges of her molars in short order. “Gently!" I squeaked despite myself as a quarter, then half of my length disappeared into the fox head shaped spear of darkness descending inexorably, delightfully, toward the shrubbery of my groin hair.

For her part Flame merely let out a soft rumble, her tongue lifting and rolling along my length, drawing me in with each slow wave. With me on my side and she relatively upright her tongue was working more along one side of me rather than along the underside which was pressed up against the unyielding bracket of her teeth. I think that the pressure against the side of my cock rather than beneath it is what kept me from popping like a shaken bottle of champagne.

Oh, gods but it was absolutely mind numbing what that incredibly long tongue was doing and, when her nose pressed into the hair of my groin she had done something none of my lovers ever had before, not even Paul. She had taken my entire length and I did not feel that she had bottomed out in the slightest. Each time the root of her tongue would hitch up for that forward roll that turned my thoughts to static the pressure was just below my head and transitioned all the way to my root. “Oh, fuck, lass." I hissed, running my fingers shakily between her ears.

When her cool nose reached the limit of my groin the foxy black Pokémon let out a sound of absolute pleasure or contentment, like someone who had just tasted Ponzol fruit for the very first time. It vibrated directly into my throbbing length and my cock very, very much approved. A hot breath hissed around my length as her body shifted and her front paws pressed into me on either side of her buried muzzle. Flexing and relaxing them, I felt blunt claws prick and rake against my flesh as she suckled with slow, easy motions.

One hand shakily stroked whatever fur I could reach; the side of her head, jaw, neck, nape, hackles. Never digging, pulling, or gods forbid pushing that contact any further than it already was. My other hand was fisted into the sheets as I strove to keep my hips still, though they did make slow rolling motions to offer short, easy thrusts that never went anywhere. Her head bobbed easily to match the motion of my hips, never letting me slide even the slightest forward or back within the confines of her hot muzzle.

“Lass," I choked as my body tensed. I could feel my balls drawing up and the muscles of my inner thighs and loins tightening. “Lass, Ebon, dear… I'm not going to… last." I had to fight for each word as her paws tuzzled against me and she rumbled softly around me while her tongue worked my entire length. “I'm going to cum!" She did not back off, giving a short two-toned growl of affirmation that vibrated right into the core of me, and straight to my balls.

With a grunt that rose into a whooping gasp my hips pressed forward and, with the first spasm of my cock, jerked rearward powerfully. As half of me was bodily yanked from the depths of her muzzle its presence was replaced with a hot fountain of sorely pent up seed. Her jaw clamped down slightly as if to create a better seal and, as my hips relaxed forward her muzzle dipped once more toward my root. My next spasm jerked my hips back again but her muzzle followed, planting solidly into the hair of my groin as she rumbled and growled around me, quiet only in those moments she swallowed my offering.

Her tongue eased up on its wonderful pressure, moving only when she gulped down my release, and she gave a long, sighing growl of pure contentment. She had gotten what she craved more than eggs or grubs or scritches. She had gotten my seed.

She was the only female who ever had and, likely, ever would.

At length my body slumped, spent, though my cock did not subside so swiftly. She continued to tuzzle and knead at me slowly with her dainty black paws, her tongue moving much more slowly and lightly now that I was spent. It took several long, luxurious moments basking in what I had to admit was the best blowjob I'd ever had before I began to soften. She adjusted her head slightly, the pillars of her upper and lower fangs pressing against the underside of my cock at the root as she slowly drew her head upward. I felt the last thick dollops of my cum being coaxed up my length by the pressure of those two ivory daggers, milked from my very depths until it spilled upon her tongue just as my cock slipped free.

I let out a long huff of breath and my body slumped as I saw the pale flash of pink draw along the near side of Flame's muzzle. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight as she also let out a long, contented sigh. Shifting about she stood paced up to nuzzle under my chin before turning about and settling down again, now up against the pillows directly in front of my face. Her cool nose touched my cheek, the waft of her breath smelling rather strongly of my pent up release and I lifted a weak hand to stroke into the fur of her jawline and cheek ruff. As we settled her tail came up to drape over her muzzle, my wrist, and my face.

With the scent of hot stone and fur in my nostrils I succumbed to the fast rising demands of sleep.