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The Mistake

A Café Plaisir Tale

By Dark Violet

At Plaisir, the night has blazing life; an incandescent beacon of hedonism and delight. Between the gleaming lights and the revelling clientele, one can easily get lost in their own private world where humility is discarded as quickly as clothing. But there is a line, and there is too far....

The Sceptile gleefully flung his arm into the air. The drink he was holding showered some of its contents across nearby patrons, a cascade of yellow drops gleaming like falling coins. "Haha! See, boy? All about the system, all about the system!"

In front of him, the slot machine rang up three Apricorns. A row of small LEDs flickered up and down the garishly adorned cabinet in a mock splash of colour. Dull jingles and harsh electronic chimes clamoured for dominance with each other from somewhere beneath the plastic casing. Below, his winnings rained into a brightly-lit tray.

"You know what the system is, boy?" He said, sticking a claw at the chest of the small Lucario he'd wrapped his arm around. Some more of the drink speckled the fur. "It's how you win! How you get this place to pay you_money, not the other way around, ha_ha! You got a system, boy?"

Nature swallowed, giving a bit of a shy, reluctant smile. "Well, sir, actually..."

"You've got to have a system, boy. Or else how will you win?" He took a sip of his drink, and then gestured at the slot machine before him. "Right, you see, this is how it works. This is programmed, ya see? It's rigged. They all are in these places. They're designed so that you come in, you spend some money, you get a little more money back. Things are looking up. You get more and more confident, and then boom - ya lose it all! And you keep playing, and you keep losing. House wins. But..." He waved the drink again, wagging one clawed finger. "What happens... when you only play each game a little, huh?"

He took another sip of his drink, cream-coloured foam hanging onto the front of his beak, before leaning down to scoop up the coins from the tray. "Just a little, with just a small bit of money. A few bucks in each, and a few more bucks out, each time. I tell you what boy, I've got enough winnings to pay for a few drinks already, and in this establishment? That's a fuckin' lot, right?" he grinned smugly, "C'mon! Onto the next one!"

He tightened his grasp on Nature's shoulders, gesturing again with his drink as he guided the reluctant Lucario away. Nature held a reluctant smile as he was pushed through the dense mass of customers.

The Games Room at Plaisir was a small, dank affair that crowded all the senses; a tempest of harsh noise, light, odours of sweat and alcohol. What the low ceiling and light level didn't achieve in terms of claustrophobia, the hedge maze of slot machines, computers, railings and even a pool table more than made up for. It was all the worse as it galloped ever nearer to midnight; a good number of customers usually decided that this was the right atmosphere to carry the night away in, which meant standing room only.

Nature pulled on one of his ears as garish light flashed across his face, and he flinched at the sharp clanging of the bell from the pinball machine that they passed by. He'd only been coming down from the Poker Room above this one, only passing through; his shift had ended, and he'd been looking forward to the cool night air in the inner garden. Then an arm had slipped around his shoulders...

The Sceptile dragged him to another machine. The casing for this one had been painted in an art style that had gone out of fashion two decades ago, depicting a series of alluring images of Pokémon in multiple stages of undress and seduction. It was most likely a tongue-in-cheek choice by the original artist - what with Human-Pokémon sex being a taboo even so many years later - but the Café's decision to have it set up here was with deliberate irony, no doubt.

"This one's a good one! Suits a guy like me!" He said, reaching out with his drink-carrying hand to rub a claw along the curves of a Lopunny, who dancing across the casing next to the screen with only a few well-placed scarves of fabric to stop the picture from being too indecent. At the crest of the machine, the sultry gaze of a Gardevoir stared down at the two of them. "Boss of a company should be surrounded by plenty o' girls like this, right?" He turned to eye the room, that smug grin plastered across his face. He'd shouted that last line rather more loudly and meaningfully.

It wasn't that he was unattractive, Nature found himself thinking as he looked up at the grinning Sceptile. The curve of that beak, the slight pudginess of the belly, large eyes just the right hint of emerald; it all presented a tall, fairly attractive gentleman, maybe middle-aged or a little earlier. Wasn't even a bad name - a mister Harold Silversmith. Rolled off the tongue. Nice name, nice body, but...

Mr Silversmith turned back, tugging Nature closer to him. "Bet you'd like to be in that position, eh? A bunch o' girls rolling all over you, in the back of pickup truck, deep on a sideroad where no-one could come save you, eh? Eh? That's what I'm talkin' about!"

Nature pulled on his ear again, biting his lip. He stared around him, trying to make it look like he was hunting out girls. Surely there must be another waiter here somewhere...

"Right!" Mr Silversmith removed his hand from Nature to delve it into a large bag hanging off one side of him. The strap was held up where it caught on a couple of the large yellow seeds on his back. It swayed easily whenever he moved, the faux-leather caving in, the bulge of coinage just visible at the very bottom. He fished out his hand again, shoving some of the coins into the machine.

Nature took a deep breath. "Well, sir, I wish you-"

"Ain't no need to wish!" Mr Silversmith interrupted, and slapped his arm back around Nature before he could move away. "Like I said, a system! Slots are all about the system!" He gave the machine a yank, and the three wheels began to blur with indistinct shapes. All three wheels clunked to a sudden halt sequentially; Chesto Berry, Great Ball, 7. A snort from above, another pull, and the wheels span around in a dizzying manner before clunking into place once more. Great Ball, Ultra Ball, Oran Berry. Nature glanced up, a bit fearfully.

Mr Silversmith gave a snort. "Silly house think they got me! Well, no matter! I got winnings. Got one over on this little cashgrabbin' hole, and that's fine by me. I ain't fallin' into spending any more money!"

He turned, leaning back against the machine, and switched hands with his drink so he could tousle Nature's head roughly. "They think hey, let's give 'em all drinks, make 'em happy and free with their pockets, so that their harlots can swoop in and take it all with games and blowjobs - no offense there, boy." He tousled him again. "I don't blame ya. Seems like a good job, for a girl. Plenty of money. And hey, I mean, if they wanna start suckin' my dick for a few bits of paper then I ain't gonna say no, eh?" He laughed again, taking another sip of the drink. "Aw yeah! That's why I don't drink alcohol. See this? Not a jot of vodka or whiskey or anythin' in it. Makes me stay alert while they think they can get the upper hand. System, boy, system!"

Nature stared around the room again. From his eye level, he could barely see more than a few feet past the hips and waists of customers, human and Pokémon alike. Occasionally he'd see the flash of an Evening-Shift apron, but they'd never look his way. He bit his lip, paw curling tighter around his ear.

"Ya know, maybe I will get a girl tonight. Might not have to pay though if I play it right, know what I'm sayin'?" He said, giving Nature a playful punch on the shoulder that made him yelp, the sound lost to the surrounding commotion, before the hand grasped him again. "Girls like this gotta come here 'cause they love it!" He took a long sip of the drink, those eyes sliding around the room, slowly scanning. "Systems ain't just for machines. They're for girls too, y'know? Anyway, all girls want is a guy with cash, and I'm a guy with his own truckin' company." He lowered his drink after a few moments. Nature stood, looking away, Silversmith's other hand still gripping his shoulder in an unreciprocated sense of camaraderie. Come on, something...

"Here. I'll show you." Mr Silversmith started, standing up from the slot machine. The great bush of his tail waved behind him as his arm once again wrapped around the Lucario. Nature flinched. "Boy like you could do with a nice girl. Lemme show you, my boy. Stay close to me, and-"

"Mr Silversmith?" The light, confident voice carried loudly, clearly across the commotion. The Sceptile turned around, claws digging into Nature's back.

From around the pinball table came the dark figure of a Zoroark. The glowing light of the machines illuminated the pale grey-brown fur, looking somewhat messed up and unkempt, in just the way to make it look like she'd spent the last half hour serving the Café's primary trade. In the darker patches of her hair and highlights, the light was lost, leaving just dark shadows. A flashing light from a nearby slot machine illuminated the purple streaks across that impressive, encompassing mane that covered her entire back right down to the floor.

She stood, paws clasped behind her, yet holding her body with a certain air of confidence so alien to Nature he couldn't help but instinctively shy away. She was wearing one of the Café's standard black aprons, but it was slung sideways, revealing a near-unhindered view right down her torso - from the small breasts under the black chest fuzz, right down the curving body to the hips. Any sightings of flesh, however, seemed hidden under that mussed-up fur.

"Yes, sweetheart, what can you do for me?" the Sceptile said after just a moment's hesitation.

"Room four, ground floor?"

"Yeah?"

She smiled sweetly, giving a few rapid blinks; her light blue eyes seemed to shine in the flickering of the slot machine. She was demure, somewhat small, but....

"I'd like to offer you a free room upgrade." She said, not averting her gaze from the Sceptile.

"Haha! See?" Silversmith exclaimed, hitting Nature on the back. The Lucario flinched and jumped, eyes wide. "I got them! They think they can buy my affections with a little freebie. Think they can get me on their side, buy more drinks and play more slots with a freebie from a pretty little thing like that." He turned back to the Zoroark. "Upgraded to where, eh?"

"Our Café has a VIP room ready for you. The rooms are meant for only our most valued of customers, of course." She kept staring at him, without looking away.

"Oh yeah? I heard o' them! Invite only. I bet you'd love to come along and see what it's like, sweetheart."

"I will accompany you to it now, if that's what you want." Her voice was firm, confident, as if she'd been expecting that. Nature found himself staring at her.

Mr Silversmith paused for a moment, and then slapped Nature again. "Sorry boy, looks like you're on your own for the night."

"Ah yes." The Zoroark said, flicking her gaze. "Nature? Ceylon is in the Waiter's Lounge, after you've cleaned yourself up. I told him you requested him."

Nature stared, flummoxed. Did she just wink? And... how did she...?

"C'mon, enough of that!" Silversmith had been leering at the Zoroark rather intently. "Take me away sweetheart, and remember, boy; system! Try and bag one of the girls, do it for me!" He grinned down at him, and tousled his fur one more time, giving a lick of his lips as he glanced sidelong back at the Zoroark. "Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine, if I have anything to say about it..." He gave a rough laugh, patting Nature's head one last time. "Alright then, sweetheart. I think you want to buy me some more drinks first. Take me to that Lounge place...."

Nature wouldn't have seen it he hadn't been looking so intently at her, but the Zoroark smiled just that bit more before she led him off. Around the two of them, the dark shapes of the customers of Plaisir closed in, their revelries continuing, oblivious.

***

"Gimme another Roselia's Sweet Scent. Hold the booze." Silversmith smirked, waving a hand at his Zoroark companion. "You sure you don't wanna get something for yourself, sweetheart? You've not had a single one this whole time!"

"I'm fine for now." She said, giving him only a side glance. Behind the bar, a Smeargle began to grab drinks from the shelves behind him, clatters heard above the Lounge's usual evening commotion.

"C'mon, sweetie, you get yourself whatever you want. I don't judge."

"Because you like it when girls drink?"

"Hey, means they're gonna give me a good time." He smiled, grabbing the drink from the Smeargle just before he put it down. "C'mon. If you're gonna be paying for all of this, you might as well get one for yourself too. Especially at these prices..." He stared over the rim of the glass, sipping it.

The Zoroark stared back... and then reached down to her apron, taking out a note and holding it out for the bartender, who took it gratefully. He said nothing; maybe they were paid to stay out of the way on occasions like these? Not get between him and the girl he had. Smart move, really.

The transaction completed, and the feeling that they had exhausted the fun to be found here, they turned away from the bar. Silversmith slid a hand across the Zoroark's back and underneath that mane; she'd already clasped her paws at the small of her back, but he made do with caressing her shoulder blades and the back of her neck. She seemed almost fragile, he figured with another smile. Like this, he guided her off across the soft carpet.

The Lounge was fairly busy, as was typical, with many of the haphazardly placed couches and cushions occupied by waiters and customers alike. The skylights above and the large ceiling-to-floor windows across two walls showed just darkness outside. Instead they were near perfect mirrors of the revelry of the interior. It seemed drinks were flowing free here, and from a few distinct sounds behind a set of doors marked "Special Lounge", it appeared that inhibitions had become a thing of the past. He smirked. Good on you, my boys...

"Alright then sweetheart, you've filled me up with what this place calls drinks. We headed to my special room now?" He asked, still running his hand up and down her back. Such lovely, soft fur...

"Just a short walk there. One last chance to get to know the real you."

"All about me! You girls, you're real set on it, y'know?" He said, curling his fingers around that fur. "I do love that. I bet you love it too. Well I'm not a complicated man, and I think you should use some of those sex-hungry minds of yours to try and work me out. Go on then, sweetheart! Can you tell the real me?"

She looked back at him with those lovely blue eyes. Her smile was so inviting. She flicked her eyes up and down his body for the briefest of moments. "Oh, I think I can."

***

The Waiter's Lounge was as busy as its customer-based counterpart, but the atmosphere was completely different. The plain couches, the eclectic content that had been amalgamated into a few bookshelves, and an industrial-sized coffee machine on the counter... it was all just right for a hideaway, far from the clientele of Plaisir. The Afternoon Shift had just ended, and those that lived off site were sharing a last few drinks with their fellow employees before heading home.

Nature rubbed a paw down his freshly-washed chest fur. The smell of cheap tobacco was never easy to wash out, but it was far better than it had been before, and now at least he could be surrounded by far more tolerable smells like freshly ground coffee, or semen. He still folded his paws behind his back though, and as the door closed behind him and he was surrounded by the warm, easy-going clamour of waiters, he scanned the room.

The large, blue and black form of Ceylon was easy to spot. He relaxed on an armchair, his back to a dark window, cradling a large mug expertly in one paw. Nature found himself smiling at the very sight, and found himself already making his way over to the large feline.

Ceylon seemed to be enjoying a rather raucous conversation with Firenze. The even larger Ninetales, Plaisir's General Supervisor, was still carrying a tray and his own tailored red apron. The conversation was raucous from Ceylon's side, at least; Firenze merely stood by him, smiling passively.

Nature's ears twitched as Ceylon laughed, and he smiled as he walked up. Ceylon turned when he got close enough, and waved a paw. "Nature, by dearest boy, come over here!" His smile shone. Nature ran a paw over one ear.

"It's good to see you" Nature said, sitting down demurely on the corner of the nearby couch. He looked between the two of them with a reluctant smile. "I didn't know how else to get out of there."

"Out of where?" Ceylon said, frowning and taking a sip from his mug. The scent of Lapsang Souchong tea wafted from it; a burnt, smoky smell that made his fur stand on end.

"The Games Room. It was too crowded, and with that Sceptile... well, I'm just glad to be out of there."

"Our job isn't always glamorous." Ceylon said with a shrug, his tail flicking into view. The hard yellow tailstar at its end rubbed against his chest. "Just be happy you're out of there."

"Pleasures do come in many forms." Firenze muttered distractedly. "It's our job to cater to them."

"I know, I heard about the VIP upgrade." Nature said, almost sadly. Something about that hadn't set quite right. He glanced at the table in front of him where a small mound of magazines with headlines like "Get the softest fur - just 15 mins a DAY!" and "Is Buck Fortitude actor ENGAGED?!" lay in a dog-eared, disturbed state.

"VIP upgrade?"

Firenze's voice made him jump out of his reverie. Nature shrank back suddenly, his paws together between his legs as he looked up. Firenze was looking at him quizzically, his head tilted to one side, his vaguely mussed mane tumbling down over one side.

He frowned, glancing to Ceylon, and then back to Nature. "What VIP upgrade...?"

***

The bedroom's door slid open so smoothly that it felt like it was floating. The lights were already on in one half of the room; a pale, cool incandescence illuminating a horseshoe of large, blocky, dark-coloured sofas, and varnished floors of pale wood covered with soft, neat and fluffy white carpets. Around the cream-coloured walls and nicely flanking the whole arrangement were a number of paintings; elegant shapes of black and white spokes and swirls and gentle watercolour gradients.

In the centre of the couches was a lovely glass table; on it, almost the only colour in the room came from an artist's palette of berries sitting neatly in a bowl, and a small card with elegantly typed pleasantries lay beside it. Above it all, a skylight to the clouded night sky reflected the neat, blocky decor below.

In the middle of the room, just past this array of plush faux-leather seating, a perspex block housed a mock fire pit that had been sunk into the ground. White, holographic flames danced amidst forever half-burnt fake wood, with warm air rushing up from small grills around it to fully mimic the effect. The sound of the airflow was masked by a faint, artificial crackling, though the air was devoid of the woodsmoke one would usually get; one instead found the clean, sterile scent of air freshener.

Just by the firepit was a fine black mesh, almost like blinds, reaching from the top of a low wall right to the ceiling. Behind it, the whole other half of the room was darkened, save for a few lines of soft, warm lighting from around the wall. In the middle of an alcove of simple, unassuming tables and sideboards lay a large, black bed, the sharp contrast making it appear so much bigger, so much more cozy, so_inviting_.

All in all, the room was a modernist's wet dream; strange and blocky furniture, pale and plain facades, unassuming and unintelligible artwork. Seeing it in the warm, comfortable green-hued setting Plaisir was a sharp contrast indeed, shocking the customer into sudden opulence and luxury.

Mr Silversmith barely noticed it all. His claws slid up and down the Zoroark's body as he was led inside, eyes leering at those curves, at the fluff that hid exactly what he wanted. That mane too, sneaking down, always in just the wrong place for him to see what he was searching for.

"Welcome to the Pali Suite" the Zoroark announced as the door slid closed, the miscellaneous sounds of Plaisir cut short; not even a muffled noise heard above the quiet crackling of the fire. Her paws were still behind her back, despite his roaming attentions down her small, thin arms. "Your bags can be fetched from your old room later. If you would like anything, all you have to do is ask. There is a pad by the bed for ordering everything from food and drink to-"

"To a girl, I know, there was one in the other room. But why would I need one of those when I have one right here?" He said, smirking. He took another sip of his half-empty drink, coming around to her front and curling a claw beneath her chin. "The room will do, I suppose, and I think you will too. What is it you girls say here? That I am your pleasure, or something?" He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her passively smiling face. A nice smile, too, he figured. He was clearly on the right track. "What do you say, fancy giving yourself a _lot_of pleasure, then?"

The Zoroark's eyelids dropped, her gaze travelling down and then up his form. "If you're asking for my services..."

"At your pleasure, of course..." He said, free hand moving to hold her upper arm. He pulled gently, and she didn't resist as he moved her towards the dark back to the room, to the waiting bed - as he expected. "Making you the envy of the other girls, I'm sure..."

"I'm sure..." the Zoroark replied, and he smiled, guiding her forwards.

He took another swig of the drink, then slipped it onto a side table. The sweet, tangy taste on his tongue seemed so unimportant as he moved her to the bed. He licked his lips again as with another guiding push, she climbed up onto the bed. Yet again, that mane teased and tempted and hid the prize...

He grabbed the bag he was carrying, and yanked it off, dropping it to the ground with a tinkle of metal. He raised his arms in a slow, languorous stretch, the whole front of his form lit on one side by the pale light from the other half of the room. Behind him, he twitched his leafy tail with anticipation. Oh, that wasn't all, he thought as he gazed down at the Zoroark, who had turned on her side to stare up at him, mane curled between her legs. He stretched further, feeling the release between his thighs as his slit parted, the room's warm air swirling around the deep red tip of his cock.

"You see what you've got to play with?" He said, sliding a hand down to play with the growing shaft, feeling it slide ever further out. He grinned as her gaze slid down to it, and felt it pulse with desire. He couldn't help but squeeze and rub it, coaxing out ever more for her undoubtedly lustful gaze.

As more of it slid into view, the shape became apparent. Ribbed for her pleasure? Hah. This was far, far more than that. This was made for the ladies to adore. It was conical for the most part, and large, blunt, fleshy barbs adorned every side of it. They sloped back, each just slightly thinner than his finger and gleaming in the light of the room. It was almost like some sort of fir tree, or perhaps more comparable to his own tail. Small threads of thick, sticky-looking pre dripped and hung from it. "Bet it looks good, right...? These barbs make the ladies just squeal with pleasure..."

The Zoroark stared at it for a good while longer for responding. "Well," she said, not moving, "When it comes to the quality of cocks I've had, it's certainly near the top of the bell curve..."

"Sweetheart, this thing is right at the top, let me tell you!" He said, grinning as he climbed onto the bed after her. He moved one hand to rub her thigh, the other cradling that growing shaft, and she pushed back to give him just enough space to crawl further on. "Or rather let me show you. First, you show me, though..." He gripped her knee and confidently spread her legs, gazing down with unbridled lust. She let him, slowly parting her legs and rolling over for him.

The soft cameltoe could be seen now in the patch of rougher, coarser fur at her crotch, just about hiding the shape of that feral, female spade of a delicious red hue. He delved forwards, leaning down and reaching to run a thumb over it, feeling the incredible warmth, the slight wetness below. Suddenly, he stuck his beak against it, inhaling that musty, fleshy scent of mammalian pheromones, of dark-type desire. He gave a guttural laugh, parting the hidden flesh with his thumb as he gave a single lick inside. Around him, the Zoroark jerked suddenly, and he gave a cocky grin. Another brief lick along the sides, then another teasing right at the very top, before he drew back to grin across at those lovely, deep blue eyes of hers. "How's that, sweetheart? And you know my dick's bigger and better than my tongue..."

"I'm assuming you're intending to show me regardless." She said, pushing herself back, resting her head on the neatly-placed pillows. A few wrapped chocolates slid off them, falling into her mane. She put her arms up behind her head, seeming not to care about it, her gaze still fixed on him.

"I don't think you're gonna say no...." He licked his lips again, staring back at that waiting, half-hidden cunt.

"Then I'm going to assume the same is true of you." She replied.

Silversmith rubbed his shaft once more, letting his fingers play over the barbs, under them, around them. It was fully engorged now; a good eight inches of that red, slick flesh, jerking as he held it aloft for her. "Well let's get to it, shall we?" he murmured, pushing himself forwards, guiding her legs apart and pulling the bulk of his body between them. The flesh made a wet slap as he dropped it onto her cunt. He shivered with anticipation, fumbling as he pulled his hips back, the shaft dragging across her crotch. There was not an ounce of resistance in her; how wonderful! He smirked, pushing the rounded tip right past that fur, feeling the heat below.

"Alright then..." She murmured, stretching her legs further and supporting herself on her arms. "If you must insist; let's see what _you've_got...!"

He grinned, glancing up at her only momentarily. "That's more like it! Alright then!" He grasped his shaft tighter, and thrust forwards.

***

"Well, the last time there was a VIP upgrade, it was because that Charizard came in, you know the shiny one who was a very frequent customer and he was really good apparently I mean I don't know I never actually did anything with him, I hear he liked the smaller waiters more, which is strange, because I figured that if that was so then he'd go talk to Rain Flower, but she never mentioned him and I'm sure she would have, so maybe he just maybe had something wrong or maybe he never went for her, but if he didn't then-"

"So he was the last person to get a VIP upgrade?" Firenze interjected, cutting off the Lopunny in mid-sentence.

"Uhuh! Uhuh!" Cheryl said, nodding her head quickly, ears bouncing around in the warm yellow light of Plaisir's lobby. "I remember it, because it was three days ago and I was just getting on shift and he was already here and I was told to do it by Minka - well, not told obviously, but she gave that look you know and do you actually understand her looks or-"

"And you're sure no VIP upgrades have been given out since?" Firenze said over her.

"Nope! I mean... yep! I'm sure! Well, I mean, unless like Mister Pouncer or Mister Flour or Miss Jörmunor Mister Jack or someone did it, but why wouldn't they inform you, or inform me? I guess they could be busy, I mean it is a big day, Omen said it would be but you just can't always prepare for it and-"

"Do you know where they are?"

"Mister Pouncer is at home, Mister Flour is in Captivate, Miss Jörmun is in the Gardens and Mister Jack is in the bar, but apart from that, no. It's so hard keeping up with people, and-"

"Thank you, Cheryl. You've been very helpful."

"Yes sir, Mister Firenze!" She said, straightening up, but not before Firenze had already turned away and started heading away. Nature stood fidgeting against the wall, while Ceylon looked on with his mouth half-open.

"How did you manage to have that conversation so quickly?" The Luxray muttered, still staring at the Lopunny who had by now returned to her work. "She usually keeps yammering on for an hour..."

"Sometimes, Lewis, a little lack of decorum is what's required - not an excess of it." Firenze allowed himself a small smile as the two fell into step next to him.

"I still don't know who this Zoroark is that you mentioned, Nature." Ceylon pondered, trotting up between the two of them, frowning. "Doesn't sound like anyone I know who works here."

"True, and I'm fairly sure I would know if she worked here." Firenze said distantly, lost in thought.

"So... what do we do now?" Nature muttered quietly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"We ask those who could have given out the upgrade, one by one." Firenze replied matter-of-factly.

"Why don't we just go and look in the VIP rooms?" Ceylon asked.

Firenze turned to him, slowing his pace. "Because if they are there legitimately, then we would be incredibly negligent to interrupt them. I understand the importance of this situation, but you must understand too. Pleasure above all else."

"I don't understand, though..." Nature murmured, as they passed through the open doors into the warm, cozy and crowded Main Bar of Plaisir. "Why would he get a VIP upgrade? And if you two don't know her, then... who was that Zoroark?

***

Her cunt enveloped him like a warm iron in a vice. Fuck, he didn't expect her to be that tight! He barely got the first couple of inches in before he felt the resistance! She gasped though, moaning sharply, the sound music to his ears as he moved a paw to grasp at her side for support and leverage. He pulled and thrusted again, driving more of that shaft in. "C'mon! You want it all, right?" he muttered, arms shaking as he got another few inches inside, passing half-way as those fleshy barbs were slid into her. "C'mooon...!"

Her legs kicked on either side of him, her mane twitching as she fell back against the bed. He hoisted her hips up, driving the shaft just that little bit further. Well, maybe she just needed another thrust! He set his jaw, and then yanked his hips back-

A yelp from the Zoroark made him glance up at her. Her claws dug sharply into the bed, dark, wide eyes staring up at the ceiling. He looked down again at his shiny flesh; a few of the barbs had been pulled out, but the rest had caught inside. He smiled to himself.

Silversmith heaved his hips back again, managing to free a few more of those barbs. She squirmed, another loud yelp and strained cry from her. "See?" he said, with a large smirk. "Plenty of pleasure, right? Bet you don't have anyone like me here at this place." He grasped her waist with both hands, and shoved his hips forwards again, driving that shaft back into her. Another yelp, this one shaken. "That's what I'm talkin' about! Moan as much as you want, sweetheart, I want everyone else to know exactly how much they're missing..."

Once more, he yanked his hips back, dragging those barbs along her insides for a moment before he thrusted again. That wonderful cunt, the tight resistance that just felt inviting to him. It was warm and wet and felt oh so amazing! And with how her body now squirmed and rolled, how her claws grasped the bedsheets in desire, oh it was fantastic! He rubbed her front with his thumbs, giving another firm _thrust_into her, delving down to almost the bottom of the shaft. Her fur brushed the green hide of his slit. He groaned, feeling her rear up against him.

"There we go..." He murmured, moving a hand to stroke at her front. He could even feel the slight bulge in her belly. "Aaaall of it, all right inside you... how does that feel sweetheart...?"

She panted, and then gave a small cough, claws still alternately gripping the sheets. She was still staring blankly upwards, navy blue eyes unseeing as she lifted her torso up, body quivering with the exertion. Her paws alternately gripped and released, screwing up the previously immaculate bedsheets. Her tongue almost lolled from her muzzle. "Are you... going to give me a moment... to-"

Almost immediately, he dragged his shaft back. She yowled, her body jerking suddenly as she arched her back, gasping with her mouth wide open to reveal those sharp teeth and snaking tongue. Silversmith felt a brief shudder as his barbs caught and were dragged free, glancing up at her face, letting his mind wander momentarily to just how that mouth would feel. Certainly, she would love to clean him later. "Sorry, sweetheart, I didn't quite hear you...."

The Zoroark shook, again, panting heavily as Silversmith began to grind his cock back into her. Again, that resistance; again, he pushed against it, forcing himself back inside. It was easier now, but he still loved it, and she still _needed_it...

"Would... you stop? If... I asked you to...?" The Zoroark's words were disjointed, forced out between gasps for air.

He was still watching her body revelling in his cock. He saw her bulging stomach, her gleaming red flesh stretched with the shaft, her undulating chest. He moved a hand to rub indulgently across her body. "Why would I?" he breathed with a wide grin, licking his lips, and then yanked his hips back.

Another yowl of no-doubt intense pleasure. Another writhing of that sweet, lovely body beneath him. He felt his shaft pulse and throb inside it. His eyes lidded at the pleasure.

"All... I needed... to know!" she gasped again, as he once more pulled back to halfway. Her cunt strained with the barbs, those outside dripping with juices that must have been hers.

Silversmith smiled even more broadly, kneeling up on the bed. He wrapped one hand around that thick waist and began pushing himself back in. One by one the barbs slid out of sight, stretching those walls as he gradually sunk his cock back into her. His other hand roamed across her front, fingers running through white fur possessively. He leered at that bulging pale red-pink feral cunt, watching it throb and move in time with his pushing. Her felt her tail rub between his legs as he reached the last inch, his hide once again pressed against her crotch as he squeezed it in, and....

He paused. His mind was screaming something at him. He blinked, holding tight to the body beneath him, to the white fur in one hand, to the firm, feral hips in his other. He felt that tail snaking up and down the inside of his legs. He blinked, looking up her body in a mixture of confusion and shock, seeing...

A canine face stared back at him, wearing a confident grin that gleamed with teeth. Underneath a mess of white hair, two eyes stared back at him with an unwavering, dominant glare.

Violet eyes. Two deep, violet eyes that burned into his.

He stared down and up and down again, his mind suddenly reeling. What? No, what?

The creature underneath him was no longer a Zoroark. The fur was similar, but had lost its vaguely brown hue, becoming a dull, dusty grey; everywhere but the front and around the crotch. The front? More like the underside... arms were now forelegs, with feral paws curling as they were drew back slowly. The entire effect seemed like... like a Lycanroc...? No... more like a Mightyena... but still, so very different. A purple fleck of hair tumbled across that chest, almost as if pointing towards the crotch, where... where a large, plump sheath now sat, the pink tip of a cock peeking from the end.

No. Seriously. What!?

"Having fun?" The creature muttered in that same voice as before.

"Wh... what th-"

"Only you seem to be so _very_involved here. I'm sorry to interrupt you, but... actually, that's a total lie. An interruption was exactly what I was wanting. You see, I'm g-"

"What the fuck is going o-"

"NO." Suddenly, the tip of a grey and white tail lanced at his face, whipping with far more force than should have been possible. The sound of it was like a whip cracking, his ears ringing from it. The creature below him glowered at him, teeth clenched tightly. "No. You are going to shut up. It's my turn now; no more of your interrupting and insulting and grinding and groping and leering and leaching."

A low growl permeated the air. There was a sudden silence between them. Then, as if someone had flicked a switch, her expression changed into a jaunty grin. "Hey, y'know, I thought that was rather good. 'Interrupting and insulting' and stuff. All that alliteration. Off the top of my head, that one...."

Silversmith dared not move, but suddenly he could feel a ball of anger inside him. His eyes widened. "Now you listen h-"

This time, the tail caught his neck and was immediately wound around it.

"Anyone ever tell you how exceedingly vile your voice is?" She asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "A detestable mix of what you say and how you say it...." Her voice was low, harsh, the words spat out like sour berries.

Silversmith tried to speak again. He managed to get a frustrated snarl out of his mouth before the tail wrapped tighter.

"Sorry about that!" She said suddenly, her voice returning to the happy, carefree tone of earlier. She seemed to squirm underneath him, settling against the bed with a contented sigh, the sheets strained under her weight. Her motions made his cock pulse and jerk inside her, but there seemed to be almost no reaction at all from her. "I don't want to put a dampener on an otherwise fine evening for me."

She paused then, eyes slowly widening, as if in an act. "Oh! I do apologise. I didn't even introduce myself, not that you ever asked." She smiled then, an unsavoury, unsettling grin that spread like tar across her muzzle.

"Anyway, I'm Dark Violet; and you see... I'm gonna have some fun...."

Silversmith recoiled against the tail, straining to get more air. His aura was what he needed for any powers. Some attack would work, some assault on this fiend below him; but somehow, that aura was nearly empty; drained. He felt sore and stiff from its absence, and the concentration to use even the drops that _were_there was impossible to achieve with the struggle for a single breath. Instead, he was forced to stare forwards at his captor.

Those eyes. Those were not sane eyes that stared up at him. The pupils, black feline-like slits, were mere razors discs of glowing purple. The muzzle was pulled back into an unsettling grin that showed every single one of those teeth, including two worryingly large canines right near the front that caressed the bottom jaw.

"And because I don't want to waste time or risk you going all limp on me, I'm just gonna get right to it." She continued quickly, an eyebrow quirking up, and then-

Silversmith tried to gasp as her cunt tightened suddenly around him, like a vice on his shaft. It wasn't painful; it almost made him shudder in pleasure, but mostly it made his body freeze in shock. In an instant, she had pulled herself up, front paws wrapping over his shoulders to better glare into his eyes. He couldn't help but stare back, even as he began to feel something moving around his neck, some strange, intrinsically unsettling undulation.

"Oh, and look! We've even got my children wanting to join in. I thought they might..." She said with an air of gleefulness. "Now, if you think that _I_wasn't wanting to waste any time, then you would be surprised at how they're gonna-"

All of a sudden his senses were cut off as the grasp tightened around his neck, sending sudden intense pain through him. He arched his back, eyes wide, vision spinning with disorientating, tarnished-gold catherine wheels. His body was wracked with a deluge of tingling, a prehistoric urge to seize up in the face of a sudden shock. His mouth must have opened wide, perhaps in a shout lost to his ears; either way, the first realisation he had of this was when _something_forced its way into it. It was warm, slightly moist on the surface, and it fought past the tongue it was thicker than. An instant later it was at the back of his mouth, and the next-

His throat burned as whatever it was began to work its way down. He continued to stare unseeingly at the spinning room. Elsewhere on his body, the feeling continued as it had at his neck, stretching away like veins to wrap around limbs, across his belly, down to his tailbase. One began to spiral down his tail, while others wrapped themselves around his thighs in a vicious embrace.

Eventually, he managed to gain some understanding back of what he was seeing. The room stopped spinning, and before him, the creature's head appeared again. With wide, frightened eyes he took in her grinning face, her furrowed brow, her eyes surrounded by ethereal violet flames that licked into the air, seeming almost unreal...

"Oh, I suggest you don't try to talk." She said, tongue flicking out to lash at her lips. "You'll need the air...."

He said nothing. It wasn't from her words. It was because he couldn't. Whatever had worked its way into his throat stretched his hide uncomfortably around it, but it had somehow left one small passage for a trickle of air. He drew in his breathes shakily and painfully.

He'd been hoisted into the air, above the creature, trapped limbs flailing uselessly in empty space. He could see what was around them now - they were purple, like her eyes, and they gleamed in the low light. Tendrils, tentacles? Was one of them down his throat right now? How... how did she do it? How dare she do it? Why did she do it, wh-

"What apt questions, let me answer them..."

He stared down at the creature in shock. She was laying on the bed again, on her back, legs apart. His cock had never actually been pulled out of her, and those barbs were making sure of that fact; her hips were suspended from him, making her half-curled over. He searched her face - had she just read his mind? Or was it a trick, a reading of his expression or situation? Her smile gave no answers; she just watched as he felt those tentacles slide around his body. He could feel every motion of them, how they tightened and rubbed at his shins, how they curled around his hands. How one was now slaloming down his back, rubbing across those large yellow seeds...

"You know what I like about sex?" She said suddenly, diverting his limited attention back to her. She was once again staring into his eyes, not even watching the movements of those tentacles across his body.

"Everything." She continued, wriggling her torso again. His cock jumped a little inside her, but he felt only the smallest drop of pleasure from it. "Everything! How intense, how visceral it is. How the body is worked into a frenzy of millennia-old lust and desire and delight." The tentacles tightened their grip, while a new one was beginning to run down his front. "Two people joining together, a focussing of bestial minds for one goal; ultimate, unsurpassable, insurmountable pleasure...."

She wriggled again, closing her eyes briefly and biting her lip in enjoyment. Those tentacles curled and writhed around him, dancing as if her words were a conductor's baton.

"Oh, but you... you...!" she said, looking up at him again. "Calling what you do 'sex' is like calling 'modern art' actual art. Bland, carelessly done, self-obsessed and ultimately meaningless.

"You don't _have_sex. You _take_it. You extract pleasure from others like some uncharismatic vampire, feeding your already bloated self-image and leaving them to wallow in your aftermath." That tentacle at his stomach was winding its way down his belly now, an enthusiastic snake in search of a meal... or a mate. He could barely shudder with the sensation; bound, immobilised, seemingly entirely at her whim...

"Oh, but don't get me wrong. It's not like that's even the main point here. If that was all you did I wouldn't mind. I might even like you. I know there are some here that rather fit that bill, and let me tell you what delightful characters they can be. Oh no, you see, you're worse than that." She levelled her gaze at him again; this time there was slightly less humour in those eyes, and slightly more darkness in the flames.

"You see these Pokémon, these waiters, these employees of this fine place... and you look _down_on them. You think you're above them. And don't try to deny it, because I know how you stare at them like they're lesser beings, made for the pure purpose of bringing an ounce of momentary ecstasy into your life, and then able to be cast aside without a care..."

Those eyes were narrow now, that smile turned into a snarl. The tentacle at his belly had slipped around his side, and now traced his hips.

"How_dare_you. How absolutely dare_you. You suckle from the teat of the most divine luxury anyone could experience, you live an existence where this holy magnificence is possible, and to those who provide you with it you give your _scorn!? They offer pleasure at their will, they dedicate their lives to it; and you don't just think of them as lesser for it, you think you somehow deserve_that pleasure without an ounce of will to earn it with what petty little respect you have in that puny heart of yours. You are _despicable."

He shook. His mind raced, his heart beat hastily. Anger, shock, frustration, pleasure, terror; they roiled in his mind, none surfacing from the tempest long enough to be acted upon. He dragged his body against her wet grip to no avail.

"Oh, and your cock's terrible." She muttered. He blinked, shocked away from his attempt to escape. "Those barbs? They hurt. Those squeals you hear are of pain, not pleasure. Barbs are a special gift, and you wield them like a rake."

He strained once more against the grip fruitlessly as anger surfaced once more, only to be tempered into fear and uncertainty as he felt that lone tentacle sliding over his hips now.

"Fortunately, I can take it. But that aside... I'm going to have a lot more fun from you."

Silversmith felt the tentacle wind its way around his thigh, and underneath that tail. He tried to block a possible inevitable future from his mind.

"You take so much pleasure from others, so let's see how you like it. A little revenge on behalf of my disciples of desire. An eye for an eye..."

The tentacle reached its mark. He choked, his eyes watering.

"An ass for a cunt."

Silversmith recoiled, straining his body against the grip as white-hot pain flooded into him. That tentacle was neither slow nor gentle; it forced its way into his rear, not even stopping as it stretched him wide, working inch after inch into him. A panicked, laboured scream reached his ears, and only after a moment did he realise that he was the one making it.

"There we go...!" She said from somewhere below him. Her shouts were tinged with joyful exuberance, the sweet buoyancy of total domination. He felt gravity shift around him; the tentacles around his body lifted him higher into the air. His cock tugged on her cunt, but all that paled in comparison to that lone tentacle pounding into his rear. "That's more like it!" She yelled ecstatically. "Revenge is a dish best served with writhing, lust-obsessed tentacles, and my my, Sceptile - you've just gotten to the main course!"

Silversmith choked again on the tentacle in his throat. He was strung up by so many of them now, and impales at both ends. The one at his rear hadn't stopped, either; it kept forcing its way in, over and over again, thicker and thicker as he was stretched out. He felt a burning pain at his virgin insides, followed by a low, continuous ache as he felt his very hip bones beginning to shift and by spread apart by it. His legs tugged in vain at his bounds, and he opened his eyes as much as he could. All he could see was his beak stretched wide open, and beyond it, a thick length of wet purple flesh. It too was beginning to undulate now, back and forth, stretching his jaw all the wider as it forced itself into him...

"You want to take pleasure from others? Then let me take pleasure from you." The creature said. He could still hear her; hell, that voice seemed to fill consciousness, driving past his ears and into his mind. His very core shook with every intonation and every syllable. He couldn't _not_hear her. "Imagine if this was your job, to bring pleasure to someone, only to have them hold you down just like this and sap it from you until you were dry and hurt. Used..."

Another low, harsh growl. The tentacle at his mouth drove in further, his jaw suddenly popping as it reached a stress point. He tried to yell in pain out of reflex, but the merest whimper that escaped was lost to the wet squelching of the two impaling tentacles and her gloating.

"And then, at the very end, you're spat on by the person you've brought this gift to, a gift you've worked on and refined all your life to just help and please others. Hah! Make comments all you want about degradation and domination, but this isn't just play; this is rottenness to the core, and an insult to a life's work, you_disgusting_creature!"

Silversmith closed his eyes as both tentacles worked their way further in. He didn't want to see anymore how that tentacle bulged against his beak, how it was squeezed and how it didn't stop thrusting...!

"Harold Bryan Silversmith. I will open you up, not to the world, but to yourself. I will tear down your self-inflated ego, rip away your vilest of conceptions, and show you exactly what you do to others. I will expose your puny little heart, and I will force some damn appreciation into it."

Silversmith found himself trying to curl up. Anger, hatred, fear; they began to withdraw from his consciousness. In their place, the icy cold grasp of uselessness and guilt began to settle in their place.

"And I will enjoy every moment of it..."

His eyes opened again as his rear was suddenly stretched further - something else was there, another wriggle tentacle end, working its way past the other one already straining at the rear, and into him. He jerking his legs, his tail working behind him, a rustling of leaves that was quickly silenced by one of the previous tentacles tightening around it. He tried to cry out as that second tentacle at his rear stretched him ever further...

His vision whirled around, the tentacles shifting suddenly, turning him upside down. The room was a blur, and when he stopped, gravity was somewhere behind him, presenting him with a view of the ceiling. He felt his shaft bent downwards uncomfortably, still trapped in her cunt by his own barbs, and he stared up to see...

Himself. A mirror adorned the ceiling above the bed; but while it might have been installed to offer a patron more enticing views of their partner, right now it showed himself- dark green hide trimmed and embroidered with purple tentacles. His throat and his belly were bulging gratuitously, unsettlingly, the winding and exploring tentacles deep inside him from both sides. He just managed to draw in a slight bit more air with another gasp, the effort making his vision spin.

And there she was, too; laying on her back, spread-eagled, their crotches locked together. She staring up at him through the mirror, that wild smile, those eyes that speared into his. He dragged his eyes away from hers; it took effort, too. He found himself looking between her legs, where that big white sheath from before had given way to a large shaft, canine like a Mightyena's or Lucario's. A tentacle was already working its way up and down it. He squirmed, body shaking at the very sight.

"Come on, terrible boy." The tentacle moved faster of her shaft, pink flesh wet and gleaming. "You're almost there! Well, I am, anyway... I'm almost finished with your little punishment. Just the climax to go, and I think it's going to be a very fun one indeed..."

The tentacles weren't letting up. Suddenly, the one at his mouth forced more of itself in, and his little airway was cut. His eyes went wide again, he yanked his hands at his bindings in vain, vision swirling once more. At his rear, he was lifted up again, both tentacles pounding mercilessly into him.

And at his crotch, his cock was being... pleasured would be the word he'd normally use, but that wasn't right. Her cunt was squeezing it, rubbing, constricting, but there was little enjoyment out of it on his end. Between it and the lack of air, he felt the rising need of orgasm, but he knew that it would not be the explosion of pleasure he was used to. Merely a release; but right now, a release was all he wanted. All he needed.

Never once did the tentacles let up. He felt them writhing, swirling, coiling inside him. His hips were on fire, his throat burned, his limbs ached from being stretched. His body was exhausted, and he just kept getting violated over and over again, while he heard nothing but the cries and shouts of exuberance from the creature below him over that incessant squelching from the tentacles. In and out, in deeper and out never quite as far, in deeper...!

Then there was a trembling in them. A quivering, and below him, the creature gritted her teeth and growled loudly, a feral, bestial sound that shook him to his bones. She bucked, and his cock was suddenly ground against and rubbed and squeezed, and he too felt the sudden galloping of the onrushing orgasm. The brink had passed, and the inevitable descent into the valley of pleasure had begun - but where ecstasy had once lay for him, now there was just the gasp of relief. A relief that was present for all of a second before suddenly, the pain of his rear, the aching of his throat, returned in full force. He dimly recognised the feeling of spurting cum into her, and her shaking and a rejoicing yell. Her words came back to him in painful clarity; _You want to take pleasure from others? Then let me take pleasure from you._And she was taking the pleasure; those cries spoke up unparalleled delight, of glorious peaks of joy and gratification, drained from him and used purely by her.

His mind began to fog now. The lack of air was taking its toll, and with this release and the constant pain from his body, it was too much to bear; he sagged, his struggles slowing, his mind descending; an inescapable road to unconsciousness. But as the darkness of oxygen deprivation overtook him, he was left with one unshakable, final feeling; that justice had been served.

***

Nature had to almost jog to keep up with Firenze's long, purposeful strides. The Ninetales' face was set, harsh, staring straight forwards with a determined glare as they stalked down open bedroom-block corridor towards the VIP rooms.

"Everything's going to be okay, right?" Nature asked, holding the tip of his tail in both paws now as he came up alongside. "This can be sorted now, right?"

"Yes. It will." Firenze said shortly. It didn't take any empathic abilities to notice to annoyance in his voice. "I just wish we could have reached Mister Pouncer sooner. They've been in there for about half an hour now..."

"But it'll all work out?" Nature said again. His heart was encased in ice.

"I'll make sure of it..."

"Firenze!" Ceylon's voice carried far in the corridor's confines. They both stopped and turned to see him loping up towards them. "I found our resident Psychic. You know-"

"Yes, what did she find?" Firenze's impatient voice cut him off effectively.

"Nothing." Ceylon replied. His eyes were wide. "Nothing."

Nature blinked, looking between the two with a modicum of hope nestling in him. "That's good, right? That means everything's fine...?"

"No." Firenze said. "Ceylon?"

"Nothing. As in... she can't even sense the room. Something's going on in there. I assume none of the others gave out a VIP upgrade?"

"No. Not even Clarice, Coco, or Nikki."

"Somehow I thought so. I sent for Lear and Ace. They'll be there as soon as they can."

"We'll be there first. Let's go." Firenze said, and turned on the spot, racing away. Lucario followed with Ceylon by his side.

***

Dark Violet spread out on the bed, stretching her limbs and gasping happily. She felt cum right across her chest, over her muzzle... the lovely, salty taste of it on her lips and tongue. She swam in this sea of pleasure, and giggled to herself as she let herself float on currents of desire and contentment.

Eventually, she refocused her eyes; they'd been open all the time, but what use is there in actually seeing when one is having so much fun within one's own mind? She grinned happily up at the darkened room, staring at the mirror that reflected her hedonism.

And also reflected Silversmith, limp, hanging from... eight tentacles? No, wait, ten. No, hang on, that one at his shoulder might be one of those inside him, so that would make it nine...

She sighed, and at length, she pressed a paw against the bedsheets and pushed herself up slowly. Her body ached, and her leg burned as she righted herself. Her tongue lolled from her muzzle, and she panted happily, staring across at his unconscious form.

For a moment, she regarded it happily, as a painter may regard a finished work. She even felt the warm glow of satisfaction they got from it.

Then, she quirked a smile at the display before her. "Come on." She announced, raising an eyebrow. "Back, all of you. You've had your fun."

An observer might not have thought it possible for a retracting tentacle to be able to exude such reluctance and such begrudging compliance in just a few motions, but they all seemed to, many of them taking their time to retreat from his body. Within moments, Dark Violet held up a tail that shimmer gentle of purple before returning to its semi-normal canine shape.

She grinned down at Silversmith again. His chest rose and fell; a little unconsciousness, but nothing major. Grass Types did seem to have the ability to take in air from more than just their lungs, after all; he'd be fine after an hour or two, and perhaps a coffee.

She found herself giggling again, rolling onto her side. At her cunt, his shaft began to slide out with only the minimal amount of discomfort, shiny with her juices and just a few strands of his seed. It wasn't a bad cock, she mused. Certainly very interesting. The right guy could really make a woman squirm with it... a lot better than he had, that is.

Dropping down from the bed, limbs still aching slightly, Dark Violet stopped with her paws sinking into the plush black carpet. Languorously she stretched, yawned, working out all of the strains and knots from her muscles. Oh, it just felt so good to do that! Of course she'd do it. Why waste any of life's little pleasures, hm...?

She sauntered to the door slowly, happily, and when there she gave another pleased look back at her work. Her eyes rested on him for a few happy seconds, before she depressed the bar at the door, and pulled it open. She walked outside slowly, casually.

Ah... yes. Of course.

She let the door close behind her. Her gaze passed over the three figures in front of her, the Ninetales, the Luxray, the Lucario. She took in their faces, their fur, at the very telling ruffled nature of some of it. She loved how each feature told a story, and at how those stories were often so wonderfully salacious...

"I'm so sorry for upsetting you three." She said, with actual sincerity. "Hopefully, you'll soon see that this is a turning point for our dear customer in there. All for the greater plan... hmmm..." She trailed off with a gentle, warm laugh.

After a moment more of watching, she broke into a large smirk and walked up to Firenze. She admired his features for a moment; that lovingly pointed muzzle, those sharp eyes, those ears swept forwards in a natural dominance. She leaned over, kissing just the tip of his nose.

Then, she drew back again, once more inspecting them with a glowing pride.

Their purple eyes stared back at her. None of them moved. Not even a blink.

From down the corridor, there was a commotion. A steady thumping of heavy footfalls. Security, most likely. Dark Violet raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it seems my time here is up. Until next time - you three... have fun..." She said, and turned, wandering off towards the corridor's other exit; a door to the outside. Behind her, the sound of approaching feet grew ever louder, but she still allowed herself the time to saunter, and to smile.

Justice had been served.

Fin