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An unfamiliar noise in the next room caught Iri’s attention. The Pokémon Center attendant paused with his pencil just above the clipboard, tapping down against it while he perked an ear to listen: it could just be the team of that Gym Trainer who had come back for the fifth time today, whose star Pokémon by now was looking more and more resolved to return to the wild, but when he cocked his head and listened in closer to the sounds… his heart began to thump in his chest, and before he stopped himself he had tossed the clipboard and pencil down with a clatter and bustled to unlock the door.

The low, sizzling growls, the fringe of a buzz at the edge of the noise – all of this was familiar after a rather untenable dispute with a Pokémon dropped off for training help, and hearing those noises nonstop for an impromptu battle that stretched on far too long. Would’ve kept on going, too, the dragon thought, locking the door behind him again; back here was the “quiet room” for the Center, where the particularly rowdy, nervous, or otherwise uncomfortable patients were brought to be on their own until proper care could be provided. Good thing I brought along Kekipi’s Breloom. Can’t stand the dang mushroom puncher, but he was right; a Spore is more reliable than a Hypnosis, and…

…the effects of the sleep had just begun to wear off, he noticed. The new patient held within the thick-barred cage in the corner of the room stirred, her sharp, angular limbs stiff with sleep, her fur crackling with electricity. As Iri stepped closer, deliberately keeping his pace slow, his nose twitched: the air smelled of ozone some halfway into the room, and already he could see the evidence of accidental discharges across the floor of the cage and the wall behind.

Even stumbling with sleep she had evaded capture, to the point where the Trainer had had to throw out a different Pokémon and sling the thing over its back, to manually drag the thing back here. By that time he had to get back to work, though, and the dragon had barely been able to focus while knowing he had a new Luxray back here waiting for him.

Although… He crouched down in front of the cage, already reaching to fiddle with the lock. Not MY Luxray, unfortunately. And I’d bet she’s mostly just waiting to make a break for it again. Don’t know why the Trainer would bring her here for help, instead of… to the gym in the next city over… and…

And her tail hung limp out of the front of the cage, the star-shaped end jumping in little bursts of harmless static. Each time it did so the rest of the muscles twitched in turn, flexing up along the extended length towards where it met the rest of her body – and there underneath, where silken fur pinched away to velvety skin underneath, lines of wrinkles circling around the rim of the muscular ring there clenched and twitched as well, her dank tailhole tugging in against her body before sinking slowly back out when she relaxed.

The fur glistened with both its original sheen as well as with the gathered grime of sweat, and the smearing of the Pokémon’s natural bodily oils. The door of the cage swung open, slowly, quietly; her thick mane puffed out and then just as quickly receded again, each strand of fur twisting and sticking around each other with those pulsing currents of electricity, the Luxray still too far within the depths of sleep to be able to do much. She groggily tried to focus on Iri as he reached in towards her, one hand holding the door, the other reaching out towards her haunches… and he jerked a bit against the tiny zap that leapt out across his pads.

She stirred again, a low, fulgurous growl rumbling more in her chest than in her throat. Iri reflexively launched into the techniques taught to him to help calm down rowdy patients – establish eye contact, but then immediately look away; slow, careful touches, always within their field of view; ensure that they see the movements before they are made – and managed to press his hand into the tufts of fur there, thick and dense, slightly sticky, somewhat dank from the constant humid heat nestled beneath her tail-base. She twitched again, hindlegs flexing against the bonds he had tied around her, then squirmed and managed to throw herself fully onto her back.

Eyes sharp enough to punch through the material of the Center’s walls finally managed to focus in on him, her drowsiness boiling into obvious annoyance. The dragon offered a grin, swallowed, leaned in a little closer, and then wobbled where he knelt as the wave of her scent wafted up and buffeted him, folding around his whole head, the puff of steam wavering up from a fresh pot of stew. There was that ozone burn again, layered throughout the much more familiar aroma of sweat, the sharp stench of feline, the deeper, richer, bittersweet pungency of – and there he saw it – fresh, recent, frequent use.

Within the tight wrinkles of her tailhole pucker, little flecks, flakes, dried bits, and in one or two places even chunks of gathered brown clung, surrounded with little dried rings where the moisture had previously seeped out and dried across her. Iri took in another slow, low breath, for a moment able to feel her electricity tingling there within his nostrils, making his eyes water; when he swallowed again he could taste that scent as well, sharp and intoxicating. The Luxray continued her growl, muscles flexing, footpaws pressing against the bars of the cage beside the opened door; her forelegs were similarly bound together, though these she kept bunched against the puffy fur in the front of her chest.

And speaking of puffy… Iri really did need both hands down here to part the thick tufts that encroached in around her tailhole with each movement, slipping in towards each other every time she twitched her hindlegs. I can see why it’s so humid down here, he thought, leaning in again: even before he touched his nose to fur he felt the scent-steam begin to condense against his lips and scales.

She smelled wild. Not the clean, groomed, faintly perfumed aroma that so many trained Pokémon developed from so long spent under an attentive Trainer’s care, but instead the rich, vicious, pungent bite and natural feral musk, unwashed grime, and pure bestial presence. Head swimming, Iri leaned forward further, turned his hands so that he could scoop his fingers beneath her haunches and spread her tailhole with his thumbs, tugged at the puckered ring until those wrinkles pulled across and parted gently, and then firmly, forcefully, sealed his pursed lips against her.

Immediately the Luxray jumped and froze, shocked in the sudden contact. Then her legs kicked a little bit, not enough to jerk him loose; her fur prickled and tingled with dancing arcs of electricity, tickling at his fingers, filling his nose further with that scent of burnt air even where he pressed it into the small space just beneath her pert, sleek sex, burning warm, similarly slick. Around Iri’s muzzle her fur bristled, shifted in, squeezed against him; he felt the plush flesh underneath squish into place as well, the dragon adjusting his grip to squeeze her more fully around him, thoroughly nestling his muzzle into the great mane here beneath her tail.

Each breath he took filled his lungs to brimming, air so thick it was nearly liquid; he let each one back out, felt it simmer and shift between her fur and over her skin, then drew it right back in again, lips quivering at the rim of her tailhole, tongue twitching forward yet not quite making contact. He trembled where he held himself, sucking in around the wrinkled rim, tasting everything that she carried without actually touching it – until finally he did, pressing the flat of his tongue forward against the puckered center.

For a moment he just held himself there, drawing thick, sticky breaths in through flared nostrils and parted lips both, until the tickle at the back of his throat made him sputter and cough right back out against her. The Pokémon jumped again and redoubled her growl, sounding like a generator kicking into action; Iri swallowed, then had to do so a second, a third, and a fourth time against the sticky slickness, and finally flicked his tongue around. Each of those wrinkles tugged back against him, warm, soft, slightly tacky; greasy but still dry, those little flecks flaked off across his tongue but held together, catching between his teeth, pasting against the roof of his mouth, settling into his gums.

A low, hungry moan shivered out across her tailhole still held firmly within his mouth. The dragon slid a hand away to undo his pants, half-turning his body as he did so, and stroked himself already fully hard in the open air of this back room of the Pokémon Center. Still the Luxray squirmed and wriggled and writhed, trying to pull away yet never fully doing so: she pulled back only far enough so that the Trainer had to adjust and pull himself back in, lips sucking free from around her saliva-slickened hole, muscles flexing.

Dizzy with the force of her scent, Iri took in another deep breath, held it, then pulled himself away. Still that warmth sizzled within his lungs, tingling like smoke, or as though a little bit of her electricity had fizzled down into his chest; when he finally let it out he was surprised that smoke didn’t trickle out from his nose. Panting, curled halfway over on the floor, he pumped at himself a little while longer while just looking down at his prize here, the not-so-helpless Pokémon glaring back at him with eyes bright, mane crackling, claws out.

That low growl continued, spiking each time he brought his hand or muzzle closer, but never developed into a full-on yowl. Something about the look in her vicious eyes, in the way her ears continually flicked back and forth as though she had to deliberately try to flatten them, in the way her tail swung around but never smacked or lashed… Iri curled his upper lip against his nose, took another deep breath of the clinging warmth there, swallowed, and sighed, and after slipping his pants the rest of the way off so that he sat half naked, in one smooth movement reached towards the cabinet standing beside the cage.

The thick scissors, shears more than anything, fit nicely into his hand. He gave himself a few more strokes and then leaned forward, reaching out for her hindlegs; she kicked and lashed, then slowed, paused, let him take hold – not without another shock that briefly numbed that arm to the shoulder – and watched as he slid the shears within the rope binding her ankles together.

Shaking with anticipation and perhaps a little bit of anxiety, Iri licked his lips again, swallowed, squeezed – and expecting her to take the opportunity to kick and leap away, seized both of her hindlegs in his hands, spread them apart, and swung himself up and around her into the cage. The Pokémon strained but did not quite manage to work herself free, writhing and kicking underneath him; he grumbled in turn, settling himself down against her chest.

Her fur felt sharp yet soft all at the same time, prickling while it tickled, poking a little painfully at his bare thighs while still smoothing down beneath his weight. The dragon grinded himself forward into this sensation, little electric tickles zapping throughout his length; each one made his shoulders bunch together and forced him to clench his jaw, though by the time he managed to open his eyes again he realized that he was shivering, the warm blue fur of the Pokémon’s underbelly streaked with little drips and smears of sticky pre forced out from the sensation.

It was surprisingly easy to run his hands down her legs towards her body, and to spread them apart from their. Footpaws bumped against the bars of the cage, held on there, and pushed away, and while the Pokémon put some effort into trying to wriggle her way out from underneath where the Trainer had caught her, she could never find any sort of purchase for herself. Iri licked his lips, felt the sticky slime there again, swallowed, and cradled his spread fingers around her tailhole, the skin and fur damp with drool.

Yet again he leaned in, back arched, thick tail resting comfortably along the Luxray’s sparkling mane. If she was going to attack, he figured, she would have already, but still he glanced over his shoulder now and again to see just what kind of rebellion burned in her gaze. Luxray usually lacked the strong jaw that an electric-type like Boltund was known for, but still he knew that they could pack a punch – so to say. In fact, he knew perfectly well that any Luxray should easily be able to physically overpower him.

And this one didn’t. Maybe she’s still waking up. Iri pressed his fingerpads into the supple, sticky skin around the rim of her tailhole until he felt the ring of muscle tighten, pull, clench – and relax, gently blossoming into rich glistening reddish-pink inside. The closer he brought his muzzle, the stronger he could feel that dank, misty heat curling up from inside of her, the bittersweet, sour musk filling the air, trickling up his nostrils and into the back of his throat.

Closer and closer he came, filling his lungs, grinding himself down against her, nearly forgetting for a moment that this was a vicious, wild Pokémon who could reduce him to a smoking heap of old firewood… and yet still she didn’t. When his nose brushed up against the inner rim of her pucker, when his skin stuck to, pulled against, slopped free from the slightly sticky meat there, another small zap danced across his muzzle; when he folded his tongue forward against her and easily slipped it inside to where all of that hot, wet flesh squished and squeezed and slurped together, he felt it again, as though he had touched his tongue to a full battery instead of an empty Luxray.

All of these warning shots, yet still she made no actual move. Confidence growing, the Trainer swallowed, swirled his tongue around her rim, then wrapped his arms around the Pokémon’s haunches, and scooped her hind end fully up around his muzzle. Once more the thick tufts of fur closed in around him, blocking out the light of the room, padding his ears like earmuffs. He wiggled his head back and forth to nestle in more fully, then pursed his lips, pressed in against the Luxray’s tailhole from within, spread them out, and resumed sucking and slurping away at her.

Distantly he heard the sound of rumbling thunder, strong enough, close enough to vibrate the floor of the Pokémon Center and the entire cage in which the two of them lay. Then he realized that that was just the Pokémon again, her tied forepaws pushing against his lower back as he thrust into her fur, slicking back the sharp, angular tufts in sticky wetness, his own muzzle becoming stickier and stickier with hungry saliva mixed with built-up grime and natural internal slime, still strung through with those little flecks and bits.

He couldn’t tell whether it was the Pokémon herself or rather the electricity pouring through her body that set her quivering underneath him. Again and again she tightened around his tongue, the warmth of her sex slipping up against his chin, smearing him in the wet warmth of arousal; her growl rose and fell with the intensity of the shock, occasionally sending little trembles of numbness through his legs, his tail, his cheeks, his tongue, but still he continued. She tightened further, thrashed around, and kicked at the bars of the cage, then finally found some leverage there, lifted herself up, pushed forward-

-and jerked against the dragon’s muzzle buried partially within the stretched rim of her tailhole as the unexpected orgasm pounded through her. Now her muscles as well as her fur crackled with those powerful electric shocks, the bright zaps visibly jumping from fur to skin and back: she roared out, jerked against his muzzle, tightened down so hard that he thought she might split his snout in half, and then pushed suddenly. Slick wetness sprayed out against his chin and neck from underneath just as her tailhole blossomed out from inside, the thick, luscious overlaps of meat folding out around him to deposit him back into the air, suddenly much cooler from where he had just been.

Remnant discharges thrummed throughout the Pokémon’s body. Iri reached down to smush himself into her fur, then immediately jerked away as one of those currents leapt across and through his already-sensitive length again; the Luxray shivered, her growl sounding for a moment more like a purr than anything, and continued to squirm.

The dragon wiped at his mouth, smirked at the thick, slightly discolored strands that hung between lips and fur, and wiped again. He moved to lift himself off the Luxray, felt his legs tremble underneath him, and grasped onto the bars for support, taking a moment to just catch his breath and relax; I suppose it is a kind of muscle therapy, her constantly zapping me like this… but when he finally managed to turn himself around and face her again, he saw that her expression showed clear, blissful contentment – which quickly snapped back into the feral glare that she had managed to maintain for so long. Her lip curled, her ears flicked back, her mane bristled.

And Iri ignored all of these signs. One ankle in each hand, he tugged her out towards the opened cage door, then smoothly settled himself astride her lashing tail. She glared down at him, clearly anticipating the next step, trying to resist it while instead succeeding in just grinding her saliva-slickened, stretched tailhole against the underside of his hard shaft, dragging up towards his tip – so that all the Trainer needed to do was angle his hips, tug back, and then sink on in. The same succulent wet meat that had squished in around his muzzle now did the same for his shaft, luxuriously warm and wet; he threw his head back and sighed out with delight as he pressed in, smoothly burying himself right to the base within the Pokémon’s bowels.

Underneath him the Luxray shuddered as well, her growl resuming within her chest, her claws shooting out again. She writhed and wriggled against him, trying to kick away from his grasp yet still never managing to break his strength. Iri leaned forward, drew his hips back, and slid forward again, those wet inner walls slurping and sucking around him; the Pokémon vigorously pushed out from inside whenever he tugged out, trying to physically squeeze him out of her, forcing little dribbles of wetness to sputter and spray against his belly and roll down between her legs, and making those luscious inner folds blossom out around his half-buried cock over and over again.

Taking the risk of releasing one of her legs, Iri reached up to grasp one of the bars of the cage for leverage as he continued to drive himself into her. The meat of her bowels sputtered against him, his thrusts forcing little bubbles of air in between the thick, sticky folds only to get pushed right back out under her fiercely squeezing muscles. Her entire lower body trembled with the ferocity of this tension, the rim of her tailhole folded fully back so that Iri met no resistance other than the sweet, soft squish of warm, wet meat each time he pressed in, dripping with natural moisture as well as deposited drool. The Luxray wet her lips, curled her lips back, prepared another thunderous yowl-

-and shook all over as she sprayed him in a second peak, the electrically-charged splash zapping out across his lower belly, tingling at any bare skin or scale. Iri shivered, bit his lip, again moved his paw to spread the slightly sticky juice across himself, then thrust in to the base. The tingling continued across his lower body and through his loins, faintly numbing his thighs, making him shiver and wobble where he knelt, until the Luxray finally clenched around him, then pushed again. Those inner folds bunched up across his shaft again, slid back, smeared him in warm stickiness – and he couldn’t help but jerk, again, and again, the force of his own finish causing him to buck forward so that his forehead knocked against the threshold of the cage.

Still she pushed, though, and this time Iri let her instead of trying to force himself back in again. The feline shuddered, her lips drawing back and her eyes squinching shut, then rumbled – and managed to flop him out of her bowels, not without a considerable sputter, spray, and sloppy drip. Panting, Iri reached down to wipe himself off, quite easily slid four fingers into her still-parted tailhole, then lifted that hand to his mouth and began working at lapping off the sticky strands between his fingers.

Bright eyes met and peered through his again. He held her gaze as he continued to lick, once again filling his mouth with the rich, bitter-sour taste of her, now so thoroughly laced through with his own musk. The Luxray glanced down at his hand, then up to him again; he smirked, shifted, released her other leg – it fell down, relaxed, to his side – and scooted himself up along her body. The fur of her belly had matted together by now, dry and even sharper than it was before, but this time he kept on going.

The feline scowled and tried to turn her head away, but a quick urging from the Trainer straddling atop her brought her forward again. The dragon grinned again, gave his still-sensitive shaft a few more pumps with the sticky slickness of her insides, then thumped his shaft against her muzzle. She blinked, growled, curled her lip, dove away again; he just continued doing the same over and over again, wiping himself off on her no longer pristine fur, leaving streaks and smears of glistening, sticky wetness – until finally she yielded, parting her dangerous jaws open.

Iri felt another flash of fear upon seeing those deadly sharp fangs, but the sensation of her sandpaper tongue caressing the underside of his shaft quickly buried this; then she closed her lips around him, dove forward just slightly, and began to suckle the mess off of him, eyes once more returning to his as she did so. The dragon felt his smirk deepen – then winced as her tongue flicked over a sensitive spot.

Definitely still needs training, he thought. He reached forward, slowed as she growled around his shaft, then traced his hand behind one of her ears. But I’ll see what I can do about that.