Ch. 2
The sordid story continues.
The next week is, to this day, mostly a blur to me. We made love, and we fucked, and we did it at every opportunity. Sometimes she initiated, sometimes I did, and sometimes we were mutually all over each other as soon as we had a moment. What training we got in was frequently punctuated with some part of her wrapped around me, and again and again I found myself taking her exactly how I wanted, and doing things to her that I'd imagine a normal girl would have found humiliating.
She, on the other hand, not only welcomed it, she would push further, inviting more and more. She routinely woke me with her mouth, and after the third time I interrupted it to relieve myself, she rather forcefully pushed me down and took it to the back of her throat, swallowing every last drop, and subsequently delivering perhaps the most amazing orgasm I'd ever had.
We didn't let up on one another, at all, and wore each other out on a very regular basis in some very strange places. She snuck under tables, and subtly slipped me into her in parks. I led her down alleyways and once even lifted her tail on the roof of a pokemon center. She was incorrigible, shameless, and filthy. Nothing seemed taboo to her. We had more close calls than I’d care to mention. Narrowly avoiding being caught only seemed to delight her, and spur her on. I could have done with a few less thrills, but we just couldn’t say no to each other. It was what it was.
It was late fall by the time anything really changed. We’d found our rhythm, and fell back into the habit of good training. We didn't stop looking for excuses to fuck, but we managed to find a balance. I'd known ahead of time that she'd need a foci for her pyrokinesis, and eventual psychic powers, and we enjoyed more than a few long hikes in the woodlands around us. She went through a fair handful of twigs and branches before seeming to settle on one. It was a fairly stout bit of oak. For the size, it had a pretty decent heft. Our training put a lot of emphasis on getting her speed back. Going from four legs to two had slowed her down, even if we did get a lot of good cardio in. Still, she worked hard, and in time, we’d managed to get her into good form.
More than one poor trainer’s pokemon found out the hard way that her missing them with the fire was just a ploy, she seemed to love hiding behind it, rushing in for the coup de grace with the branch as the fiery cloak fell.
Her psychic powers grew slowly, but didn’t seem to stop growing. Where she used to struggle to maintain any kind of pressure, she had begun to weaponize it. Bursts of agonizing psychic force overwhelming her opponents and often causing them to sabotage their own efforts.
I was still worried, when we walked into our first gym challenge. Maybe it was too much to ask her to do by herself. Whatever worries I had fell away as her hand reached for mine, a reassuring squeeze from those dainty digits. How could I not believe in the vivid violet eyes of the girl who stood beside me, all alone and unperturbed? She was ready. We were ready.
Maybe a little too ready.
As it happens, my first gym badge was an anticlimax. Insectoid pokemon really don’t care for fire, and Claire had plenty of it on tap. It honestly felt like we hadn’t earned the badge, but the gym leader still smiled and gave us some encouraging words as we left.
I was a little disappointed. I had all these expectations built up about how good it was going to feel to earn our first badge. Like how it felt when I qualified for a new belt. But all I felt was as though I’d wasted an afternoon. Still, I was proud of Claire. She didn’t half-ass any of it, even though she had the clear advantage. She’d worked her fluffy ears off, and I knew it. I might have felt the afternoon was a waste of time, but Claire more than made up for it that night. We'd moved on after the gym, and I'd fallen asleep shortly after getting the tent up.
It was dark when I awoke to the feeling of a warm, soft tongue running the length of my cock, and my braixen's gentle whisper. I enjoyed it a while, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness, and what I saw was not what I'd expected.
She was sitting next to me, Playing with herself as she watched a different mouth swallowing my cock. Somewhere along the way she'd apparently made a friend, a very good friend. Frankly, I had no idea where she found the time. Not that I was in a position to complain. With a subtle shift of my arm I tapped the pocket computer index they'd given me, and hit the scanner. It was a rockruff working the length of my cock, illuminated in the dim semi-light of the small screen in my hands. In my half-sleep I marked with a certain level of bemusement, Claire had tucked half her tail beneath the rockruff, between the hard, sharp protrusions of the canine's neck and my delicate bits. Was it something they'd practiced? Really, where did she find the time? Little enough she could do about the sharp teeth, but that worry quickly faded in the sheer pleasure of that long, broad tongue caressing me in the most intimate fashion.
Whenever Claire touched her, she wagged her tail, and sped up. More and more, her touches grew lewd, insistent. Her dainty hands sliding over the rockruff's backside, teasing the girl as she pleasured me. The rockruff couldn't keep a rhythm, her whimpering grew as she reached climax, trembling in my lap, opening wide to take me deep as Claire's torment turned into full penetration, those delicate digits putting on a lewd show as they sank into the rockruff's dark channel.
Claire took my hand, guiding it to the back of her friend's head with a teasing wink. She pushed down on the back of rockruff's head, through my hand. She didn't have to, her friend was already eagerly bobbing her head down my cock. Her vivid blue eyes staring up at me with a sense of pleading. It wasn't long before I was pushing up with my hips to meet her halfway, her nose against my hips as I eagerly fucked her face while Claire watched, masturbating as though in a trance as I took my pleasure.
I'm not sure which of us enjoyed my climax most. Claire gushed when she saw my seed painting the rockruff's face. For her part, the little orally fixated girl trembled and opened wide to take as much as she could in her mouth, vocalizing as much as she could with too much of my cock shoved in her maw. I moaned aloud, riding the waves of pleasure, my hand on the back of her head pushing down once more, gagging the eager girl as I flooded her mouth with my release.
When all was said and done, I was a little worse for the wear, a mild sting of pleasured pain lingering where the girl had scraped against me. But it was, at least in my opinion, more than worth it. I’d never imagined I’d be doing something like that. Claire was full of surprises!
The rockruff had curled up in my lap, exhausted and panting as she looked up at Claire in the dim light. Claire, for her part, had fished out a pokeball from the bottom of my bag, pushing it into my hands without a sound.
"You'll have to share and play nice." I told her, slipping a hand between her thighs meaningfully. "It's only fair that our new friend gets her fair share too." While Claire rocked back and forth on my fingers, I sat up a little more, quietly capturing the rockruff, who offered only the barest hint of a whine, but no resistance to the ball.
As soon as she was out of the way, Claire set upon me, showering me with kisses and rubbing her whole body against me. As tired as I was, it was with some surprise that I found myself capable of penetrating her, but as she sank down on me I was hardly in a position to protest. I couldn't imagine what it was exactly, aside from myself, that had gotten into her, but she was beyond simply enthusiastic, her motions filled with ardor bordering on frenzied fixation, driving me again and again to her furthest depths, barking and whining and scratching against the rugged canvas of the tent with each motion.
I knew it was hurting her. That she had chosen it for herself made me want to. So with a bear hug and a heave, I had her on her back, roughly pinning her down, her slender arms dwarfed by my hands as I shoved myself into her, violently. She trembled beneath me, arching her back and rolling her hips as climax took her. Her answer to my treatment was a torrent of hot, wet warmth as I abused her.
Gripping her jaw in my fingertips I forced her to look at me as I pushed in, as deep as she could take it, my own release spraying hard against her innermost depths. Her panting, ragged breath matched my own as I rocked against her, painting her tight little twat white. A few moments passed, with us joined so fully before I pulled out of her with a wet, squelching noise, our fluids dribbling freely from her abused, gaped hole. She made no effort to move, panting for breath, so I knelt beside her face, and smeared my slick, semi-hard shaft across her cheek.
Taking her exhausted, half-limp body in my arms, I pulled the thick cover of the sleeping bag over both of us, and embraced her, kissing the top of her head as she sighed contentedly and fell asleep in my arms.
My dreams were full of her, of warmth and joy and pleasure and contentment. Her vivid violet eyes, smile in her voice, her hand gripping mine as I held her from behind. I stirred, briefly, somewhere in it. I had been holding her just like that, and it brought a smile to my lips as I drifted back off.
The morning felt as though it had come too soon, and poor Claire whined in protest as she sat up. I could tell, plain as sunrise that she was aching all over. My hands idly began kneading her back, watching her as she blinked and looked around. She was, in most other regards a very fastidious girl, but after last night, she was a mess. Fur smeared and matted with our fluids, smelling of sex and sweat and dirt, and as she moved, she let out a sigh, looking down at me with a quiet greeting, half draping herself over me as I massaged her.
"Claire..." I said, smiling up at her. "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are? Or how much I love you?"
She tilted her head, a soft bark of a laugh as her tail thumped against my thigh, and brushed her hand against the matted, filthy fur of her cheek. For the first time, I heard her. Truly heard her.
"Say that after our bath, master."
Her voice, such as it was inside my head, was as gentle as the wind, and bright as a bell. I felt a sensation not unlike being tickled, but alien in the sense that it had nothing to do with my body. There were, for what seemed an eternity, no coherent thoughts, she could have knocked me over with a feather, if she weren't also utterly stunned from the connection we just had.
"Master? You... You can! You can hear me!" She showered kisses all over me, pouncing on me and clinging tightly to me, whatever words I might have had muffled utterly in her fur, and her soft bosom. Shifting slightly to look up at her, I nodded mutely, and kissed her. Everything I wanted to say, everything I felt, it wasn't something words could deliver. So I kissed her. For a moment, she fell silent too, and simply held me.
"I've wanted to say so much for so long... not just with my body, or with your lips upon me. Not just with my touch, or my eyes. Master, I love you. Every time you've ever told me, I wished I could say it back."
It was all a rush, overwhelming, almost blinding. Words and images and feelings and sensations drowning each other out, a beautiful chaos like a torrential rainstorm. But through it all I felt her, in a way I never had before. I felt some touch of what it was in her mind.
Her first memory of me, holding her in my lap, feeding her berries by hand and stroking her back. The expression on my face etched into that moment, gentle, almost awed.
Our first night together; she had wanted it sooner, wanted to go further.
She woke me up the next morning because she couldn't sleep for want of feeling me inside. Wanted to tell me how much she loved me, wanted me to know. Needed to show me.
She needed me to know. To hear me say it, say I loved her, and not be able to tell me hurt her. Deeply. She felt regret, and pain because she couldn't say it back. Last night was the culmination of a month's work, she needed me to know that it was okay. That it was okay move forward, wherever that took us.
She had been terrified. Of what she'd feel when it happened. Of how I'd react. Of so many things, but all of it affirmed everything she felt, and everything she knew I did. She wanted more, wanted to do it again. Couldn't wait to see what else we could share. Who else we could share.
She knew in my mind she was a dirty girl, maybe sometimes a bad one. But I loved her, loved her for it. Loved that side of her that I'd helped awaken. So she wanted it, wanted to be that girl for me. Wanted me to call her aloud the things I had only thought. Wanted me to take her, and use her and hold her after.
And now, she needed me to hear her, all of it. Her whole heart spilled open, and to know mine was in turn. No matter where the road took us, it would take us as one.
Finally, the roar became a quiet, contented whisper, and her hands upon my face framed my vision, to see her, to see only her. Her mouth moved, but the vocalization, one I had convinced myself I knew, was completely different.
I heard, both inside my mind and aloud her true voice.
And three words that bound us as one. The three words she most needed me to hear.
"I love you."
It was quite some time later that we managed to make it out of the tent and to the nearby stream for a bath. Both quite happy and well sated, we enjoyed the luxury of a slow, gentle wash together before I let the rockruff she'd brought home out.
She offered a yawn and a wag of her tail but didn't join us in the water, content to watch from the sidelines as we splashed and swam about. Claire had played intermediary briefly, apologizing for having taken so long, but it was brushed off as not even worth an apology. The girl certainly had her own rhythm, and stretched lazily as we headed back to the tent.
We didn't move at all that day, instead indulging in a bit of a feast, cooking up canned treats and even, to my surprise, some fresh caught fish and foraged berries. I hadn't realized it, but Claire had become quite resourceful, and her rockruff friend was a very talented girl. As night fell, I found myself idly scratching through rockruff's fur, as Claire, content and full, napped halfway in my lap. If I let my thoughts drift far enough, I could almost touch hers. Warmth, unbridled joy, contentment.
It must have stirred her, my reaching mentally towards her. She rolled, and with a sleepy brush of her hand on my arm, mumbled something akin to "good morning" before falling asleep again.
The rockruff let out a sound almost like laughter, and nuzzled against me, content to watch the embers dance from the low fire we'd built. Some time passed just like that, before I resigned myself to waking them both to find our way back into the tent.
It was the first night in some time that we simply slept.