FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Finally!" Clara sighed in relief, throwing her bag aside and collapsing onto the couch in the Pokémon Centre room she had secured for the night. Her Blaziken partner, Carnelian, snorted in amusement. “Hey, not all of us can climb mountains like it's nothing. I'm only human, you know."

“Bla!" The fowl preened and flexed her bicep, the considerable muscle visible even beneath her thick feathers.

“Yes, yes, you're very impressive. Could do with a little modesty, though." Carnelian just huffed and lifted her beak proudly, showing how little she cared for such things. As far as she was concerned, modesty was for other beings who did not know their worth. Clara smiled as she shook her head and bent down to pull off her shoes. Tease though she might, she found her partner's self-confidence endearing, and the bird knew it. “Well, you can't visit Lavaridge without taking a dip in the hot springs. You coming with?"

“Ken!?" Carnelian shot her a disgusted look at the suggestion that she voluntarily enter a body of water, and she laughed.

“Thought not, but I had to ask. I figure we'll rest tomorrow, then challenge the gym the day after, and after that we'll maybe look for some wild Fire-types and finally pick up a new teammate or two. What do you think?" A nod signalled her assent. “Alright. We'll eat when I get back, then we'll chill out for the night, okay?"

“Blaz!"

One indulgent soak in the town's famous hotsprings later, and Clara was feeling cleaner and more relaxed than in days.

“Excuse me, miss?" Someone asked while she was in the process of drying off, and she turned to find herself face-to-face with a familiar-looking redheaded woman in her early twenties. “Your, uh, patch is coming off." Looking down at her left hip, Clara saw that the other woman was right. She cursed and pulled it off completely, tossing it into a waste bin.

“Shit, these were supposed to be waterproof."

“It's the water here," the redhead explained, “it doesn't play nice with adhesives. Roxanne said it was because of the minerals in it or something? It's why I switched to injections, but I guess that would be inconvenient if you're travelling." At the casual mention of the Rustboro leader, Clara realised how she knew this person.

“L-Leader Flannery?"

“Ha, yeah, that's me, but just Flannery will do. Nice to meetcha…?"

“Clara. Nice to meet you, too." Recognition sparked in the gym leader's eyes.

“Oh, you're that new fire specialist, aren't you? I saw your battle with Wattson, your Combusken was awesome! You coming by the gym?"

“Some time in the next couple days, sure. My Combusken evolved recently and we're looking for a challenge."

“Nice," Flannery nodded approvingly. “I'd better prepare then! See you later!"

The moment she got back to her room, Clara opened her bag for a replacement hormone patch. However, she must have failed to close the box properly after applying the last one, because there were loose patches scattered all about inside. Irritated, she grabbed one without really looking, peeled off the backing, and stuck it just above her right hip where it would not get in the way. She shivered – this one seemed to almost tingle a little, but she put it down to her having just been soaking in hot water for too long. Instead of concerning herself with it, she turned her attention to preparing dinner, making a mental note to tidy up the bag later.

Dinner was a simple affair: canned soup for her, specialised high-protein feed for Carnelian. After spending a hefty sum on an ability patch for her partner, she had been forced to forego any fancy food of her own for a while. It would be worth it, though; Speed Boost was one hell of an ability for a sweeper like her to have. Combined with Bulk Up, her fiery friend would be a true nightmare on the battlefield. She planned to give it to the Blaziken tomorrow and let her loose against some local wild Pokémon to get used to the new ability.

It was while she was washing out her bowl after dinner that she noticed something was wrong. She just happened to glance up out of the window and catch sight of her own reflection in the glass, freezing up when she did.

“The hell…?" Peering closer, she could have sworn her right eye was… Different. Discoloured. She blinked, but the oddity remained. “Must be a trick of the light," she concluded, returning to washing up.

Less than a minute later, she found herself in the adjoining bathroom, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. She stared into the mirror, bewildered. There was no mistaking it: her eye was different. The iris had turned from its usual hazel to a deep amber, and even as she watched it seemed to be expanding, overtaking the white of her sclera. The pupil, meanwhile, had narrowed and elongated, taking on a slitted shape. Soon enough, her right eye resembled that of a reptile more than a human. At the same time, her left eye was starting to change as well, and she watched the process in morbid fascination. The gradual tone shift and expansion of the iris, the pupil contracting horizontally yet expanding vertically. She blinked. Was she imagining things or was everything… Clearer? Colours seemed richer, edges sharper, details easier to pick out. Flecks of dust and faint smudges on the mirror that she had not noticed before seemed obvious now.

As did that one stubborn black hair sticking out of the mole on her left cheek, the one that kept growing back no matter how she got rid of it.

The mundane thought broke her from whatever trance had gripped her. Something was seriously wrong here. She studied her reflection properly. Everything beyond her eyes seemed unchanged: same curly brown hair coming down to her shoulders, same lightly tanned skin softened by years of hormone therapy, same faded scar just below her lip from when that bully had thrown a rock at her when she was twelve.

No, wait. There was something else happening. As she watched, a tiny patch of green appeared just below her right eye. And it was growing. Tentatively, she reached up and touched it. The patch was cool, with a texture reminiscent of scales. She flinched and backed into the wall behind her.

Okay… Scales, she acknowledged internally. Scales and weird eyes. Must have fallen asleep at the dinner table. That had to have have been it, it was the only rational explanation. Still, she didn't feel like she was dreaming. She pinched herself, expecting the sting to wake her up. It did not. Not dreaming then. But why aren't I panicking? It was a good question – logically she knew she should be hyperventilating in this situation, or even just breathing hard, but she felt strangely calm. There was no adrenaline, no tightness in her chest, no struggle for breath. Her heart was not even beating particularly fast.

She watched on, wondering what in Arceus' name was happening to her, as more patches of green sprouted on her face, above her cheekbones, spreading around her eyes and over her forehead. Then red patches appeared on her chin, the same texture as the green, and more of it crept up from beneath her night shirt. Yellow-gold eyes, red and green scales. The combination tickled at her memory, she had seen it before somewhere. She shook her head; it didn't matter what this was reminding her of, what mattered was that she needed to stop it, or failing that, at least let someone know what was happening to her!

“C-Car-" she froze. Something was wrong with her voice, the pitch just slightly off. “Carnelian!" The response was immediate, the bathroom door swinging open a little too forcefully, dislodging the plastic doorstop and sending it skidding across the tiled floor. In a flash of scarlet and cream, her trusted partner was by her side. The Blaziken froze, staring on in confusion and worry.

“Bla-Blaziken?" She didn't need to understand Carnelian's speech to grasp the gist of the question.

“I don't know what's going on. Listen, I need you to grab my phone, quick! It's in my left pants pocket." There was a moment of hesitation before the Fire-type was out the door.

Carnelian was gone barely twenty seconds, but in that time all of Clara's exposed skin had been subsumed by scales. Her arms, her face from her upper lip upward, and the sides and back of her neck were a verdant green, while her throat and lower jaw had turned crimson. Her phone was soon in hand, along with a handful of fabric; apparently Carnelian had not bothered to try fishing it out of her pocket, instead just ripping the whole thing away. Damaged pants were something to concern herself with later; for now she was occupied with trying to decide who she should call and what exactly she should say. Her parents were out of the question, they could do nothing but panic. Her friends would think she was playing some kind of prank. The Professor? He might still be working at this hour – Arceus knew the man had no idea when to take a break – and if anyone she knew could figure out what the hell was happening, it would be him. She was scrolling through her contacts to find him when something fell onto the screen. Something soft and brown, like-

Like hair.

Her hair was falling out in huge chunks, leaving behind only smooth green scales!

“Damnit!" She slammed her fist down on the white wooden countertop and flinched. Not at the crack that formed beneath her hand, but at the sound of her voice, which had taken on an odd, almost croaky tone. She grasped at her own throat, eyes widening at the reduced size of her larynx. A strange discomfort made itself known in her chest, and she whipped off her nightshirt to get a look. The red colouration had, perhaps expectedly, spread all down the front of her body save for her waist, where a band of green poked out above her night shorts. More important, and dismaying, was the way her modest bust shrank before her eyes, flattening out as if it had never been there to begin with, her nipples having apparently vanished already with the encroachment of the scales. Years of breast growth undone in seconds, drawing a growl from her throat. She had little time to process this, however, as this was when the numbness hit.

Everywhere, all at once, her entire body tingled like the aftermath of an electric shock. She froze in place, unable to move, phone clattering to the ground as she was forced to watch her form shift. Her face pushed out before her eyes, which themselves moved within her skull, her field of vision expanding as they migrated sideways, their sockets shifting, angling to give her an optimal view of her surroundings without sacrificing depth perception. The tip of a protruding green snout was visible at the bottom of her view, which her brain would no doubt quickly learn to ignore just as it had her human nose.

Her legs shortened even as her hips widened and her thighs bulked up with muscle, her bottoms tearing and falling away, revealing a lower body suited to powerful leaps and bounds. Her socks were torn apart by the growth of her feet, big and pinkie toes growing rapidly while the other three receded into non-existence, leaving her with two large clawed digits. At the same time, rear toes grew from the backs of her feet, perfect for gripping at branches and other such perches, her feet now resembling those of a bird.

A similar process occurred with her hands, her index and pinkie fingers shifting and growing even as the rest of her digits shrank down into nothing. Her nails grew longer, harder, sharper. What remained were a pair of clawed fingers good for climbing and gripping, but no opposable thumbs.

Sharp leafy growths burst from the sides of her wrists and the back of her head, and from the base of her spine emerged twin tails that were themselves reminiscent of leaves each with razor-sharp edges for cutting down threats.

Finally, sensation returned to her body, and she collapsed back against the tiled wall as whatever force held her in paralytic stasis relinquished its hold over her.

Is it done? No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the tingling returned, stronger than ever, concentrated entirely in her crotch. The tingle quickly gave way to a more familiar sensation, that of burning arousal, and she was soon achingly, painfully hard in a way she had not been since before hormone therapy had dampened that particular function of her body. Her cock jumped and twitched involuntarily, the engorged purple head peeking out from taut scale-covered foreskin. Her shrunken testes tensed up, her legs locked, and then- “Nng- fuck!"

The orgasm was long and powerful, her jumping tool shooting off jets of thin, watery cum devoid of any seed over fresh scales. For what felt like an uncountable age, she remained in the thoughtless state of bodily pleasure, glassy eyes seeing but not taking in the sticky mess she was making, until eventually her orgasm faded, leaving her limp and tired, pelvic muscles aching, her dick sore and sensitive despite not even having been touched. Then the last of her body's changes took place, and she watched on in exhausted fascination as her penis and testes shrank down, receding into her body, leaving only a reptile's slit visible while an odd churning sensation indicated some unseen change within.

Panting, exhausted, her entire body sore in that painful-yet-pleasing manner that usually comes with intense exercise, the newly-minted Grovyle watched as the patch she had stuck above her right hip fell from her body, and finally noticed something different about it. She grasped it awkwardly in unfamiliar hands. The pale blue logo of the Devon Corporation emblazoned on the back was not something that should have been present on her HRT patches. She couldn't help but let out an incredulous laugh, the sound low and croaking yet still striking her as distinctly feminine. Apparently more than one box had come open in her bag, because in her hand now was not one of her usual patches, but the ability patch she had bought to use on Carnelian. The situation was so absurd, laughter was really the only response she had at the moment.

“Mistress Clara?" She blinked and looked up to see Carnelian crouching by her side, blue eyes filled with worry. Her jaw worked silently as she adjusted to her new mouth shape before she felt confident enough to push out words.

“Carnelian, did you just speak?" The humanoid bird cocked her head, evidently confused, before her eyes lit up with combined relief and happiness.

“You understand me?"

“I… I guess I do." Paying closer attention, Clara realised her partner was not speaking as a human would, she had just understood it so perfectly that she hadn't noticed the difference at first. Her responses had been similar, the usually incomprehensible sounds of Pokémon speech with its nuances of pitch, tone, and timing that the human mind simply was not built to comprehend, yet somehow all of it was both perfectly clear to her and instinctively spoken. She was about to say something more when a familiar scent struck her like a truck and she remembered exactly what she was covered in. Thankfully, scaled cheeks could not show the blush that would no doubt have lit up her old face red as a tamato berry in this situation. “I'll just clean up and-"

“No, let me handle it," the Blaziken insisted, gently pushing her back down when she tried to get up. “Whatever just happened, you need to rest." Carnelian grabbed some hand towels from the counter and ran them under hot water. She usually got like this when her trainer was sick, turning from hardened fighter to protective worrier. Soon enough, Clara was being gently wiped down with the damp towels, the heat soothing against her scales, leading her to close her eyes and relax.

Once clean, the transformed trainer pushed herself up. Now that she was not so focused on watching her own body, she realised she had shrunk significantly during the change, her head now barely popping up above the counter. She could scarcely remember a time when she had been so short – it was almost like being a kid again. Looking at her partner, she was struck by just how much taller than her Carnelian was, looming over her at more than double her own height, leaving her acutely aware that she was entirely at the Blaziken's mercy, unable to stop her doing whatever she wanted. Almost as soon as the thought occurred it was dismissed; Carnelian would never do anything to her, and it wasn't as if there had been any less of a power disparity between them before her transformation, in fact it had undoubtedly been greater. Her new size must have been effecting her.

“You okay?" The question snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Okay?" She gestured up and down at herself. “Do I look okay to you?"

“You look great to me," Carnelian replied without missing a beat. Clara crossed her arms and raised a brow, and she simply shrugged in response. The former human sighed.

“...Thanks." She picked up the discarded ability patch and almost threw it away, but then thought better of it. If she kept it and had it looked at, maybe she could find out why it did this to her and have it reversed. She tossed it onto the countertop, then bent down to grab her phone. “Let's go sit down. I need to contact the Professor and do some research. Maybe this has happened to someone else before."

[Professor, sorry for late message, something's come up. Please reply ASAP. Text not call, can't speak at the moment.] Clara tapped the send button clumsily, her altered digits making it difficult to use her phone as every touch had to be slow and deliberate to avoid accidentally sticking a claw through the screen, a problem exacerbated by unfamiliarity with her now two-fingered hands. It was a frustrating enough endeavour that she soon gave up on the idea of researching her condition, cursing irritably under her breath and leaving the damn thing on the table. She leaned back into the sofa with a huff, gazing blankly up at the ceiling above, pondering what the future may hold for her if she couldn't find a way to change back. Carnelian soon stepped into view, concern etched onto her features.

“Struggling?" she asked, and Clara responded with a groan. “Let me help." Grey, scaled hands came down to gently rest on Clara's shoulders, radiating warmth, and began kneading at the muscles, careful to avoid nicking her with the razor-sharp talons tipping each finger. After initially tensing up at the contact, Clara relaxed into the massage, closing her eyes and sighing at the pleasure of heat and pressure as the Blaziken worked her muscles.

“Mmm, this is new."

“Humans are delicate, I might've hurt you if I'd tried it before now." Well, at least this body came with some benefits. The stress practically leached out of her under Carnelian's touch.

“You're good with your hands…"

“The best," the Fire-type boasted, “and I've barely started. Here, let me just…" With a controlled breath, her body temperature rose, hands heating up to a point just shy of uncomfortable for the Grass-type under her care, who melted even further into her touch with a contented groan.

By the time her phone pinged with a reply, Clara had lost track of time, having drifted into a zen-like state of thoughtless bliss.

“I really need to get that."

“Shame. You were real cute when you were all zoned-out like that," Carnelian teased, reluctantly releasing her friend's shoulders before effortlessly vaulting over the sofa and plopping down beside her.

“Not sure 'cute' is how I'd describe myself at the moment."

“You're incredibly cute. Much more than you were as a human." Clara just snorted, rolled her eyes, and unlocked her phone.

[What's wrong? Are you okay?] the Professor's message read.

[Had an incident. Ability patch.] She wasn't sure how to fully explain what had happened, and longer messages were just asking for her to slip up and claw right through the screen, so that would have to do.

[I think I understand. Where are you? I can be there first thing tomorrow morning.] He understood? Had something like this happened before?

[Lavaridge Pokémon Centre, Room 7. Thanks.] Well, that was about all she could do about her situation for now; she just had to hope Birch could do something to help. For now, there was little to do but wait. She sighed, leaning into her partner's side, warm and soft feathers making for a pleasant place to rest her head.

“Comfortable?"

“Very." There was a snort of amusement before am arm draped itself around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“Me too."

She was not sure how long she had been asleep, or when exactly she had fallen asleep, but she must have drifted off at some point because she was no longer snuggled up into Carnelian's side. Instead, the two of them were laid out sideways, with her being held tight against her partner, face pressed into the thick cream feathers of the Blaziken's chest. They hadn't cuddled up like this since Carnelian was still a Combusken, though back then the positions had been reversed and she had been the taller one.

She had also been wearing clothes back then, but she supposed nudity didn't really mean much now with her new body.

It was nice, being held like this. She had been quite tall as a human and thus was usually the one doing the holding. Being so close, her newly-sensitive nose was saturated with Carnelian's scent, but she found it wasn't an unpleasant one. Sweat and woodsmoke and something unidentifiable, it seemed to please some new part of her hindbrain that told her to get closer and seek more. She nuzzled in and inhaled deeply, this time picking up hints of something like a forest mixed in – her scent, she realised, and that same part of her brain lit up in a delighted way that made her shiver.

“Mistress Clara?" The query broke through her haze and brought her out of whatever strange state she had fallen into, and she lifted her head to meet Carnelian's inscrutable gaze, at which point she realised she had practically been getting high off her friend's scent, which was certainly… Interesting. Interesting and embarrassing, and for the second time that day she was glad her scales didn't show a blush. She decided to avoid thinking too deeply about all that.

“Must you call me that? It feels weird."

“But that's what I've always called you, Mistress."

“Well, I couldn't understand you before now. I would have asked you not to if I'd known." Carnelian cocked her head in a distinctly avian expression of confusion.

“What's wrong with it? You're my trainer, what else would I call you?"

“I don't know, something less… Submissive?" The mischievous twinkle in the Blaziken's eyes immediately told her she should have considered her word choice more carefully. If a beaked creature could grin, no doubt she would be seeing it now.

“Oh, I see. You'd rather I be the dominant one in this partnership? I can do that." Before Clara could protest that that hadn't been her meaning, she found herself scooped up into Carnelian's arms, the Blaziken standing up and carrying her somewhere.

“H-hey! Put me down!"

“If you insist." There was a moment of vertigo as she was tossed unceremoniously onto the bed, and some detached part of her was impressed at how quickly Carnelian had crossed the distance there from the sofa. Then the light was put out, and not a second later the bed creaked as Carnelian clambered on, straddling her waist and gazing down at her adoringly. In that moment, on her back with her partner looming over her, illuminated by the soft light of the moon filtering in through the blinds, she had to admit to herself that the warmth building in her had little to do with Carnelian's temperature.

Fuck, she's beautiful.

Clara had never given much thought to Pokémon sexuality before. Oh, she wasn't stupid, she knew they had sex just as much as, if not more than, humans did. She was well aware of what Carnelian was getting up to when they stopped in a town or city and her partner slipped out through the window at night only to return dishevelled and satisfied the next morning. It just wasn't something she had ever considered beyond a surface-level acknowledgement of 'that's a thing that happens.'

Now it looked like she was about to get a much more intimate picture of things than she had ever expected, and she wanted it more than anything in recent memory.

She felt as if she had a swarm of Beautifly fluttering around in her stomach. It was embarrassing really, like she was a blushing virgin about to have her first time again. And from the smug look on Carnelian's face, she could tell.

“Look at you," the Blaziken teased, one clawed hand gently stroking her face. “Such a pretty little lizard, completely at my mercy." Clara opened her mouth to speak, only for the hand to wrap firmly around her muzzle. “No, no speaking unless I tell you, understand?" She nodded. “Good girl." She was released, and the claws tapped at her collarbone then ghosted their way down her chest, making her squirm more and more the further they went, past her stomach, over the belt of green at her waist, and stopped just shy of reaching her crotch. She whined needfully; she was so hot, she could feel the wetness leaking from her aching slit. It wasn't just Carnelian's touches or the intimacy that was getting her worked up, but the fact that she could look down at herself and neither see nor feel that spire of flesh that had taunted her so before her transformation.

She wasn't the only one feeling the heat, so to speak. The soft red down around her partner's entrance was growing damp, pink flesh that was normally inconspicuous now swollen and slick. Their twin scents of arousal filled the air, distinct yet complementary, flooding each of their nostrils with every breath. Carnelian bent down, pressing her beak into the crook of Clara's neck, and inhaled long and deep, visibly shuddering.

“Fuck," she mumbled quietly, then grabbed Clara's head and pulled her into her own feathers. “Breathe," she instructed, “slowly," and the new Grass-type did so, getting a good lungful of the Blaziken's scent. It went right to the most feral part of her, lighting up her whole nervous system with delightful sparks of need, drawing a desperate whine from her throat. She never would have guessed that scent was such a huge part of the experience for Pokémon, but she revelled in the way it stoked the fires of lust ever higher. Again, she inhaled, this time falling back with a gasping shudder. For a moment she lost herself and almost missed Carnelian's beak interlocking with her open maw, hot tongue aggressively seeking hers. She pushed back with her own, but was swiftly overpowered and dominated by her more experienced partner. Her arms reached up to wrap around the Blaziken, only for them to be swiftly grabbed and pinned above her head as Carnelian pulled back. “Stay still," came the firm command. “No touching without permission, yourself or me. Got it?" A nod. “Speak!"

“I understand!"

“Good." That hot, wet tongue slowly dragged its way up her throat, sending shivers through her body, before Carnelian straightened up and stretched, showing off her lithe-yet-powerful build, a perfect duality of soft feathers and firm muscle, with arms that could lift and toss a Golem, legs that could propel her several stories high with little effort, and thighs that could crush an Aron's skull. Flexibility, power, stamina: in these things and more, Carnelian was a flawless specimen, and Clara could scarcely believe she hadn't appreciated this before. The Fire-type's body was a temple of carnal beauty, and she wanted nothing more than to worship at the altar. A hand trailed down the Blaziken's body, ending up between her legs, fingers gliding over sodden flesh before withdrawing, now soaked in feminine fluids. Back up to her mouth, her tongue darting out to collect the thick strands of juice from her fingers with a soft moan. The display had Clara entranced, her own entrance throbbing almost painfully. A sapphire-blue eye winked at her, and her heart practically leapt from her chest. “Touch yourself for me, little lizard."

Despite her urgent desire to please the icon of beauty watching her, Clara knew she had to take it slow, if only for her own safety – she still was not used to having claws, and accidentally slicing into her sensitive flesh would be an agonizing end to the night. Thus, her exploratory touch started soft and tentative, lightly brushing over her wet and swollen mound. Even that light contact was enough to send shivers through her body, though whether it was the sensations themselves or the simple fact she was handling equipment that properly lined up with her brain's wiring for the first time, she could not say.

Satisfied that she was not likely to hurt herself, she got a little more explorative, applied a little more pressure.

“That's it," Carnelian encouraged, voice low and husky. “No need to hold back so much, your body's durable enough to handle it." A little nervous, but trusting her partner to know what she was talking about, she slid a finger between her outer folds, caressing the soft flesh hidden within. She shuddered and panted, and then her digit found that magical little nub near the apex of her sex, and the sparks that danced across her nerves drew twitches from her muscles and a high-pitched whine from her throat. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she held herself open with her left hand and used both right fingers to caress her clit, revelling in the electric pleasure that radiated out through her lower body, thighs tensing up and toes curling. The mixed scents of both ladies' arousal were growing ever stronger, only serving to drive her need higher. The slick sounds of wet flesh rubbing flesh mingled with their panting and pleasured moans. “Th-that's enough," said Carnelian reluctantly, stopping her own self-pleasure and gently pulling Clara's wrist away despite her wordless noises of protest. “Don't want to finish you just yet."

Carnelian crawled backwards down the bed to kneel at Clara's feet. “Spread your legs for me, good girl." The former human watched her partner slip in between her legs and lean in close to take a deep inhale of the heady scent of her sex. Keeping eye contact, Carnelian extended her lengthy tongue and took a long, slow lick over Clara's pussy, causing her breath to catch in her throat at the hot, wet feeling. Light fingers came in to part her labia before that beak pressed against her flesh, parting to let that tongue slide into her depths, and she couldn't help but throw back her head and moan loudly at the feeling of her first vaginal penetration. Carnelian's appendage was long and wet and hot and Arceus , it was indescribable! The Blaziken's own indulgent moaning was heavenly, both in the mild vibrations they sent through her pussy and the sheer delight they portrayed in the act of eating her out. She was soaking now, her juices spilling out over Carnelian's beak and feathers, staining her face. Looking back down at herself to see the powerful Fire-type nestled between her legs, eyes half-lidded and eagerly feasting on her cunt, one hand keeping her spread and the other drilling at her own organ, Clara had to fight not to explode right there, tensing up and gripping the bedsheets with all her fingers and toes, barely noticing the holes her claws were tearing in the bedding. She knew she had been ordered not to speak, but she couldn't help herself, she was so close to the big finish.

“C-Carn, I-I'm almost…" In response, Carnelian drew back a little, withdrawing her tongue and swiping it up, flicking it over her clit again and again. She couldn't stop herself, falling back and crying out her partner's name in ecstasy, feeling the intense shocks of orgasm roll over her, her muscles contracting, juices squirting from her sex and soaking what little of Carnelian's face had been unmarred. And as the sensations began to fade, the Blaziken went back and redoubled her efforts, and Clara was sent screaming over a second peak, seeing stars and begging near-incoherently, though whether it was for her partner to stop or to keep going even she knew not, herself barely aware of the repeated “please, please, please!" falling from her lips. Either way, Carnelian was unsure whether she would be getting another chance to show her mistress her affections, and so she was determined to make this a night Clara would never forget. Thus she continued to alternate between tonguing her trainer's nub and plunging into her depths, bringing the newly-minted Grass-type to her third consecutive orgasm, one that finally broke her and left her briefly insensate from the intensity, stopping only when her own peaking pleasure stole her control of her tongue from her.

Left tired and strained, Clara could barely reciprocate when her partner pulled her close and pressed her sodden beak against her muzzle, sharing her own taste with her.

“So, what did you think, Mistress?" Carnelian asked teasingly after drawing back.

“Fffuuuck…" The Blaziken laughed, once more pulling her into a cuddle that she reciprocated as eagerly as she could manage, which at that moment amounted to vague happy grumbles and nuzzling into her chest. “Carn? If I stay like this, will you look after me? Help me adjust?"

“Of course I will. But what about the Professor?"

“We'll write some notes and tell him I don't want to be cured."

“And you're sure about this? It's not exactly a small change."

“I am." It was a surprisingly easy decision to make, when it came down to it. “Don't want to stop understanding you." Hearing this, Carnelian squeezed her tighter.

“...You know, you won't be my mistress anymore."

“Good."

“I can be your mistress instead!" Clara huffed, but she didn't say no. After all, Carnelian had just shown that there were benefits to letting her take charge.