Familiar Equipment

Story by Ceeb on SoFurry

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#54 of Pokemon

Here's another one of my Pokemon Quickies, which is actually twice that length and then some because I have no self-control. I love this Arcanine babe. :V

This piece features some pseudo-lesbian lovemaking involving Desmond's thicc dogbox and an Arcanine bitch's dogbox. Hooray filth!

Thumbnail background is from Pokemon Ranger 2: Shadows of Almia, dumped by Pikachu Trainer for The Spriters Resource.

Writing (C) me

Arcanine, Chesnaught and Pokemon (C) Nintendo

Royal and Cress (C) FA: chobin


It wasn't that Roark didn't love or trust his Pokemon, and of this he reassured them; but his folks simply didn't tolerate loose Pokemon in the house, and it would have been cruel to keep them cooped up in their Pokeballs the entire time. It would only be for a week, and then he'd come back for them. Until then, they got a little vacation all to themselves while their trainer was off suffering through his brother's wedding. The daycare had a big, open field to run in with an agility course, and all the food was prepared by a certified Pokemon cuisine chef. The price tag was steep, but worth it for his precious companions.

Royal and Cress still didn't care for much for this arrangement. They sat in the window, watching mournfully as he walked out of sight, hoping he'd turn around and come back. He didn't.

The Arcanine grumbled, then barked. She turned to the Chesnaught, her mate in battle and breeding, and bumped noses with him. Cress huffed and nuzzled her back.

"All right, you two," the perky, young worker at the daycare said. "How's about I show you where you're gonna be sleeping, hmm?"

Royal actually liked him, which was surprising, given her general disdain for people who weren't Roark. That may have had to do with the fact that he was not a human like her trainer, but neither was he a Pokemon - he was a fox. She had seen things like him here and there, but they were uncommon; she didn't know what to compare him to, but he had a fuzzy body, a long bushy tail, and long hair. He was also smaller than her by half a foot. Royal absolutely loved things that were smaller than her.

She nosed up against his shoulder, tail wagging and eyes bright. He smiled, petted through her mane, smooched her between the eyes. It made her flinch, but she didn't seem to mind it. "Well you're a friendly girl, aren't you? Your friend will come around," he chuckled. "All right, so, let's see-ee-ee..." He turned and grabbed his tablet. "Arcanine, Arcanine, Arcani-i-ine," the fox mumbled to himself, thumbing through a list of all boarded Pokemon. "Now, hm, I was going to board you in the Fire Habitat, but according to this, your mate is--," he glanced at Cress' sour face and smiled, "this charming guy here. And I don't think the Fire Habitat would be very comfortable for him."

Understanding every word and smiling coyly, Royal bumped her muzzle against the fox's cheek. She rumbled affectionately. Part of this was to annoy Cress, but most of it stemmed from legitimate interest in the fox.

"I'm gonna put you two up in one of our Normal Habitats," he declared, rubbing through her mane absently. "So, c'mon, follow me." He glanced at Cress and smiled. "Come o-o-on. Both of you. I promise you'll like it if you lighten up a little."

Cress still didn't want to follow, not even when Royal trotted up to him and tried to nose him along. He was staunch, staring at the fox with mistrustful eyes. When the fox came near with a grin on his bandit-masked face and a swish in his banded tail, Cress leaned into Royal and huffed.

"Come on, now. Please? I'm not gonna bite you. You'll like it here..." He knelt down, making himself smaller than the Chesnaught. "My name's Desmond," he said evenly, paws on his knees. "It's my job to take care of Pokemon when their trainers can't. I'm not gonna do anything to hurt you." He flicked his snout at Royal slightly. "She doesn't seem to mind me. Why do you?"

Following a petulant noise from the Chesnaught, Desmond furrowed his brow at Royal: a little help?

It proved supremely amusing to Desmond that Royal, with all the impatience of an annoyed wife, barked at her mate and then shoved him along with her head in the middle of his back, butting her skull into his chitinous armor. Cress went along with her whims, but not without continuing to voice his displeasure. Desmond had to stop himself from laughing.

The Normal Habitat, as it turned out, was a hotel suite made for Pokemon. It was a few floors up, part of a small tower which the main office was the ground floor of, and one of its windows offered a view of the city in the distance. The other windows showed the wilderness, including the fenced-in plain in which other Pokemon were running and playing and sparring under the supervision of other workers - all of them human.

Royal took at once to the bed in the corner. It was situated on the floor, no need to jump up (though Royal was tall as a human and could simply walk onto a normal bed). She sprawled on it with a contented sigh, and her splay was all the invitation Cress needed to spoon with her. Desmond smiled, clasping his black paws before him.

"See? It's nice. You'll have this little room all to yourself." From there, he went through all the amenities, showing them how to summon help or service with the button panel near the door, denoted with pictographs of things like a plate of food or an open door. He was also coy to note that their trainer had signed off on permitting breeding, if they felt the urge.

For a few days, things were simple and fun. The Arcanine and Chesnaught sparred both together and with other willing guests. They ran and exercised, partaking of food which would certainly leave them spoiled when they were back in Roark's care, and they also enjoyed the daycare's skilled groomers, of which Desmond happened to be one.

On the fourth day, Royal summoned some food around nine o'clock that night. It had been a fairly dull day, with rain coming down and lightning strobing the sky. Some Pokemon were delighted by such weather, but Royal and Cress amused themselves indoors with a few battles in the basement arena, a bath each, and then a lot of lazy snoozing.

When Royal pushed the food button with her nose, she hadn't wanted nor expected anything more than a meal - but when the beloved fox showed up by chance (he was evidently a waiter on top of his other duties), Royal's affection for him showed again.

She didn't let him leave. First she put herself between him in the door, forcing him to love on her even as Cress began to pick at dinner. Then she started to lick and nuzzle him in spite of the fact that he was gently nudging her and insisting that he needed to get back down to the kitchen. Royal ultimately knocked him over and stood over top of him, blocking out the light from the ceiling globe. She grinned down at him.

It was understandable for Desmond to be so naive. Overcoming his daze, he smiled at the Arcanine, petted her along her forelegs, and then gently pushed on her breast. "I really can't play right now, hon. We can do this tomorrow, but I have work to do right now."

Royal allowed the fox to sit up... and then she knocked him down again, just to squash what little hope he had. This time, he started to frown, but the Arcanine didn't see that. She was twisting around, soon presenting herself, letting her thick, black spade hang above the young twink's face. She waggled her bottom side to side, and if she didn't have the fox's attention, she at least had that of Cress.

"Oh... oh," Desmond mumbled, then laughed meekly. He touched her legs around the thighs and tried to nudge her away again. Royal was so massive that unless she wanted to move, even Desmond's hardest shoves wouldn't budge her; and she plainly didn't want to move. She pushed back, in fact, bringing her cunt closer and closer to his face.

"Now...! Now--, Royal, wasn't that it? Royal, I think--, I know this is very naughty behavior. I can revoke your grooming privileges for the rest of your stay if you don't--!" Desmond was shut up by the Arcanine's muff crashing into his snout, its black lips squishing against his soft fur and stiff, wiry whiskers. Sticky vaginal wetness and an overwhelming stink of musk put a stop to any petty concerns he had. He struggled, pushing against her with his girly, soft paws. He thrashed beneath her, kicking the floor and grunting into her muff. She was being extremely naughty, oh yes, and those grooming privileges would be gone along with her obstacle course and sparring privileges.

At least, that was how Desmond wanted to discipline her. The reality of the fact was that Royal had him licked (at least figuratively), and furthermore, he actually liked where he was stuck. It just wouldn't do for a Pokephile to be busted sleeping with the guests, and he made it a point not to do such things on the clock. Royal was making him seriously consider his position right then and there.

She had a big smile on her face partially from pleasure, but it was mostly a grin of smug satisfaction. She had beaten the fox, gotten him right where she wanted him; she'd seduced so many others just like him. They always gave her what she wanted. Widening her smile and swishing her tail, she ground herself against Desmond, smearing her puffy, musky mound all over his face. Her cunt left wet smudges in his fur, making him stink like her box.

Cress knelt nearby now, the cooling food no concern to him. He had taken off his helmet, exposing short, messy fur along his head and neck. His erection was also exposed and he was slowly, clumsily masturbating.

When Desmond's struggles changed to reverent strokes and pets along her back, Royal eased off of the freshly-indoctrinated fox, giving him enough room to speak, but not enough to sit up without pushing his snout into her genitals again.

"You're such a bad girl," he whispered, trying to admonish her. His tone was mired with lust and admiration instead. "If you want to play... all right. We'll play. But I shouldn't."

Royal was very happy. She stepped away from Desmond, taking care never to step on him. She whipped around in a circle, barked, slammed her paws into the floor. Her tail wagged and swished as she play-bowed for him; when she was especially lustful, she acted remarkably like a Growlithe.

The fox seemed either unaware of his wet face or unwilling to wipe it clean. He kept his eye mostly on Royal while he stood up, but the masturbating Chesnaught wasn't lost on him. Desmond plainly had an affinity for Royal, and Cress didn't think that was strange. She was, after all, perfect.

Neither Pokemon cared much when the fox took off his sweatshirt with the daycare's logo stitched on its pocket (which actually sealed the breast pocket, an oversight nobody noticed until they tried to carry their phone in it one afternoon). Desmond's body was narrow and plain, with a thin blonde bush starting almost as errant pubes beneath the navel before becoming quite lush for how narrow it was. When the pants were unzipped, Royal huffed and lunged forward, tail wagging so fast that the rest of her body moved with it.

"You may not like what you see," the fox cryptically warned her, pushing down his jeans as she skidded to a halt before him. Underneath were panties, and that was no particular concern to a Pokemon; but when Desmond took them off, Royal and Cress both received quite a shock, because between Desmond's legs and nestled in against his bush was a thick, black mound just like Royal's.

Cress was immediately much more interested in Desmond. Royal appeared tentative, sizing up Desmond's pussy, then his face; pussy again, chest now; pussy a third time, and she aloofly strutted around him and thrust her nose into his bottom for an identifying sniff. She didn't quite believe her nose when it said he was a boy. She did like the way he shrieked when she gave him the sniff test, however.

"Now--, now, you see?" Desmond shakily said, and he bent down to pull up his pink sissy panties. "I don't even have what you were after."

It didn't take a Pokemon psychologist to see that Royal's confusion didn't take much from her affection for Desmond - only moved it laterally. She brought her snout close to his bent-over rear again, making as if to sniff him, when suddenly she dropped her snout and bashed her crown into his ass cheeks, sending him stumbling and yelping before he landed on the bed, no worse for wear, but now tangled in his pants and panties.

The Chesnaught wanted to advance on Desmond, mount him and fuck his brains out, but he was Royal's plaything. Cress who wouldn't even give the fox the time of day at first knew he couldn't very well take over when his lover had done the heavy lifting, so he knelt near the bed, watching and stroking.

Royal dived on Desmond, who lay stunned and blushing on the bed with his bushy tail hanging limp over his bottom like a willow switch. That was no obstacle to her; she nosed it aside and mashed her snout into his muff, setting about slathering it with slobber which she laid on liberally with her huge doggy tongue. Her tail wagged as she ate the fox, who began to squirm and groan instantaneously.

"Oh fuck, oh--, oh, stop that," Desmond feebly said, his ears splaying down. "Ooh, gosh..."

The Arcanine didn't stop - not when Desmond's body so plainly wanted what she was handing out. Her tongue was too big to do anything more than slap across the folds, but just like when she slobbered her own cunt, that seemed to be enough to move things along. And she was doing even more than that even without realizing it; her tongue was dragging through his ass crack at the ends of the laps, smearing drool across his little, snug anus. To a cute young fox, a rimjob was one of the greatest pleasures in the world.

"Uhhhn, enough," the fox whimpered. "I'm already so wet, l-let's do something else, all right? Please, Royal?"

Royal liked the plaintive tone, as befitting her name, she could be quite a queen. Being begged at and spoken up to made her inclined to do what the fox suggested. Granted, she knew something with the same equipment as she had couldn't fuck her the way she needed to be fucked... but if all else failed, she knew she could just sit on him and let his tongue do the hard work. She pulled back, barked a little bark, and watched while the fox scooted off the bed and kicked off his tangled bottoms. When he was no longer encumbered, he came near her with a blushing, but smiling face, and he grabbed the sides of her head in his paws.

Again, the Arcanine let loose a bark. This one was no more than a curious yap. Desmond evidently heard it as such; he laughed and bumped his small button of a nose into the thick pad of hers. "I don't do this with very many Pokemon. But you... you're pretty. And I know you're gonna be good at it, I can just tell." He bit his lip, smiled, looked away. "You have a great tongue."

Before the big dog could yap again, Desmond pushed his jowls into hers. It was a queer feeling for the Arcanine, getting queerer still when the fox licked her. She licked back abruptly, and her tail wagged. More often than not, a tonguing like Desmond was trying to give her was how her beloved trainer tended to kick things off. Desmond's tongue was even longer, his mouth offering a greater selection of textures and crevices and big teeth to slobber on; she was soon delighted to kiss him.

Royal's tongue was an enormous slab of meat and it overfilled the fox's narrow snout. Ribbons of slobber rolled off of it, some oozing into his maw, most escaping from the sides of his mouth. It nevertheless made Desmond moan and clutch her tighter, and he batted his tongue against hers.

Desmond's tongue-wrestling had just the desired effect on Royal. She grumbled playfully into his maw, narrowed her eyes, and crushed her huge muzzle in tighter to his. She slathered and slurped, digging her tongue into his mouth with a level of intimacy she hadn't been able to come near for his cunt. It rolled and twisted, fitting fully into his maw at times, but sticking comically out of his jowls at others like a slice of bologna too big for its bread.

Blissful whines and whimpers from Desmond filled the air, muffled by the kiss but so very noticeable to the voyeuristic Chesnaught. Desmond stroked down the Arcanine's head, along her neck and breast, digging his fingers into the thick fluff on her body. She was so warm and muscular, great in her size but so incredibly loving. He tilted his head a little bit, better locking his jaws with hers. Their teeth scraped, but their tongues tangled up like a knot. Royal grumbled hotly; Cress was panting.

The fox squirmed away but kept his snout locked with Royal's. He managed to get his knees out from under him, and his round butt smacked into the floor. Sitting prone and with reams of Arcanine saliva suspended in his fur, he gripped his cunt and started to squeeze and knead. His other paw held fast to Royal's mane.

Desmond's wasn't the only needy cunt in the room, and Royal had no intention of being denied her pleasures. She knew full well what the boy was doing while they kissed and she wanted hers. Growling, huffing to flare her nostrils, she broke off the kiss and slopped her tongue out of his little mouth. It was such a full-on kiss that, when it ended, their jowls stuck together briefly. Desmond gasped when he came loose, sounding both relieved and disappointed, and his cheeks were cherry-red under his white fur.

"Aw, fuck," the fox muttered, not even realizing he was talking. He rolled onto his belly, then pulled himself up to his all-fours. His tail stayed high, but shaky, and the black lips of his cunt glistened. Royal started to lean in when the fox huffed, "No! No... go, like--, turn around. Turn around!" he urged.

Royal frowned, but turned and looked over her shoulder at Cress - still masturbating eagerly, and looking unfathomably needful - and then at Desmond, from the corner of her eye.

In a series of moves that would have been very amusing to anybody not masturbating to the show, Desmond got up on his incredibly wobbly legs, feet in a wide stance, the space between them a large wedge. He inched back, and although his height was a little bit off, his aim was still decent; his fat dog cunt crashed into Royal's, producing a wet smack.

Just smashing his muff against Royal's didn't cause Desmond much pleasure, and it seemed only to give her some odd amusement. But when the fox started to grind and bump against her, huffing and gasping vigorously as he did, her opinion of the act began to sweeten.

"Push against me... come on, don't make me do it all myself," Desmond whimpered. "I've never done this before, only with girls on two legs, I need you to cooperate..."

Royal had never done any such thing, period - but she thought the idea had merit. She pushed against Desmond, not shoving too hard, being all too mindful of her size over him, but hard enough to make some magic happen.

Like the teeth on cogs, their black snatches meshed and seated only to come loose and align again. The duo rubbed and pushed, grinding their bottoms together; runners of vaginal juices fell from them, leaving both sets of pussylips shiny with natural lubrication. The Arcanine began panting, feeling the burn of the pleasure which Desmond seemed to be well ahead of her on.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum if this keeps up, you're gonna make me squirt so hard," Desmond said in a desperate bleat. There was no shame whatsoever in his voice. "Oh, fucking shit, this feels good... I need to get an Arcanine..."

Royal loved Roark and Cress to no end, but she caught herself thinking Desmond wouldn't be too bad of a master if this was what she could expect. She looked over her shoulder and barked a gentle noise to the fox. She had taken quite a liking to him.

Close by, but really very far-off to the fox and the Arcanine, Cress shuddered and fell back on the bed as he shot into his clumsy paws. It splattered across his hide-like armor, making stringy strands in the exposed fluff on his breast. He panted and squirmed, just letting the pleasure take over. His orgasm saw his senses peak, and he became more aware than ever of the competing musks of his lover and the sissy with the pussy; he took the smells in stride, breathing them in slowly like fragrance off of a wine.

Grimacing and panting, feeling awkward for the lopsided pose he was in with his paws on the floor and his legs straight, Desmond mashed against Royal with every ounce of strength in his legs. His cunt smacked and ground and smeared on Royal's, throbbing against her dark flesh. The fox was so near the peak of his orgasm that he could almost taste it.

Just as Desmond was close, Royal was on the threshold of her climax too. She was nowhere near as ragged and vulnerable as the boy, but still so painfully close to it that nothing else seemed to matter. She pushed and panted, rocking back a little harder every time, not knowing - or caring - that she was so close to taking Desmond off balance every time she bumped him.

The sweet bliss of release was finally on top of Desmond. Royal was getting so rough, crushing his smaller, but certainly no less delicate cunt with hers, that the final push he needed was right there. He ground back, meeting her in the middle, pushing his snatch into hers, and then he came with terrific force, beginning as an intense throb in his cunt and peaking with a cry and an enormous spurt of the same musky, thick wetness he'd been drooling since the peculiar sex started.

Release made Desmond so dizzy that when Royal pushed again, spurred by his cry and smell, she bowled him over, sending him shrieking into a somersault that ended when his back hit the floor. It started Cress and made him sit up with a start, but Royal was too close to her orgasm to be very empathetic. She glanced over her shoulder again, saw that the fox was face-up (and breathing), and dropped on him for a second round of facesitting. This time around, she felt his snout spear her open; she heard and felt him shriek.

Royal bounced on his muzzle, fucking herself with that furry, warm wedge. She was absolutely soaking the fox's face and hair in her juices, but she knew how shampoo worked; she didn't feel bad for the boy.

The beautiful Arcanine was so close to an orgasm that she could feel it tickling her deep inside, making her vaginal muscles contract and release like a gulping maw. The fox was still squirming and pawing at her and she took as proof that he was all right under her. That little reassurance was the last thought she gave him right before her orgasm took control of her nervous system.

Her climax was astonishingly powerful. The dense juices soaked Desmond's snout, oozing into his mouth and nostrils; they ran down the sides of his head and soiled his hair, even spreading so far as to stain the carpet beneath him. Her muff clenched on and wrung his muzzle as if it were trying to smother the life out of him, and Desmond could only hold his breath and hope she remembered it wasn't a sex toy she was sitting on. The fact that he was a sex toy at that moment hadn't crossed his mind.

The Arcanine tossed back her head and opened her maw, but instead of a bark or a howl, she groaned. Her tongue flopped out and her tail wagged. It was the best orgasm she had had in ages, and she was quite surprised that she had gotten it from somebody who didn't have a penis.

Slowly then, realizing with some sheepishness and equal annoyance that Desmond was smothered under her, she pulled up and was shocked - but also relieved - to immediately hear the fox coughing and sputtering. She whipped around and tried to lick him clean, and Cress came near to help the fox sit up.

"Uhn," Desmond grunted, resting against Royal. "It's a good thing there's a shower here." That was an understatement; Pokemon hotels had automated shower stalls that were so advanced, most humans grumbled about wanting one for themselves. The groomers were technically unnecessary.

Royal barked softly and nosed Desmond on the cheek. He smiled, kissed her, and was surprised then by a little kiss from the Chesnaught. "Mmm. Your trainer must be a lucky guy," he cooed.