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The Zangoose laid in the hospital bed, tired and only half conscious after being unable to sleep for days as the beeping of the heart monitor annoyed him more than it lulled him. He'd lost track long ago of how long he'd been at the center, first in intensive care and then in the trauma ward where they had been monitoring him.

The last things he remembered before waking up in this bed were the initiation of a fight with his kind's sworn enemies, Seviper, even though he was strictly told not to by his trainer and drastically outnumbered by them and the fact that they were well experienced as a clan of wild Pokémon that plundered everything from anyone in the forest through which he and his master were travelling. It was just like those damn snakes to sink so low as to steal and kill for what they needed in such a bountiful place, but that didn't matter now because he and his master were both torn apart and far away.

Come to think of it he hadn't seen or heard from his master the whole time he'd been here. Had they taken her from him as well? When would they cease to plunder? He knew he had killed one or two in the combat, but that certainly wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to keep them at bay; it wasn't enough to keep them from taring his paws and arms apart; it wasn't enough to keep them from poisoning him; and, despite the natural rage that filled him in that fight and even now a month later, it wasn't enough to save the one he loved the most.

As he lay there in the dark room with nothing to occupy his worried mind but the whir of the AC and the pulsing, shooting pain in both of his now clawless paws, it wandered to thoughts of her and their time together, of each day they'd trained, of each gym they'd conquered on their way to that forest where it was all doomed to end and, then, to what they did in those long, hot Hoenn nights.

She would sleep in nothing but her bra and panties while he laid in the tent with her because she wanted him for her immediate protection from anyone or anything that might try to hurt or steal from her through the night, and then she eventually started exploring her body, so it was only a matter of time before she did it while he was awake and, at first, pretending to be asleep.

Eventually she caught him looking like so many other trainers had done to their Pokémon and then one thing led to another, just like those trainers as well; and they were mating as he came into his prime as a male. Each night she would undress in front of him slowly to make sure he got a good look at her supple tits and then her dripping femininity as her legs spread out wide awaiting him and she took off the thin fabric that guarded it while stroking his length with her free hand, jerking him off with the lubricant of his own pre.

In the present, the thought of those long-gone sessions was making him rise to the imaginary occasion again, and with nothing else to do he thought seriously about tending to the need that welled up from underneath the thin hospital sheet, but as he attempted to move his right paw to get off to her one more time, even if it was after she was gone, the shooting pain in his paw made him yelp pathetically and curse aloud to the empty, dark room around him. He felt lower than the snakes he despised. He was thinking about fucking his dead master whom he got killed and he couldn't even get off properly.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he heard a creak from across the room. In walked a Nurse Joy--He couldn't tell which one--that had come to change his sheets and bandages for the night. She strutted through the darkness in her tight, short skirt on her way to him, and sensors all around the pair detected her movement and turned on the florescent light above, almost immediately.

The new brightness was intense to the eyes of the Pokémon that lay, half sitting up, before her as they had become accustomed to the darkness that had hung around the helpless Zangoose both within and without, and they took their time to get used to the exposure. As they were exposed, however, so was the rest of the bed including his chest, his arms and the unmistakable tent that his thoughts had pitched beneath the sheets.

She noticed right away, and knew exactly how she wanted to handle this situation from the moment it began. She acted oblivious at first, but the Zangoose she'd come to tend to was not as stupid as he felt for going into the fight that cost him everything. He knew she knew and was thoroughly humiliated by the position.

Laying under her rounded chest and eyeing her blouse as she pulled out a roll of bandages from a table that he couldn't see before, he desperately attempted to distract himself in an attempt to get his erection to go down, but seeing another shapely human form and one so alike to the one he'd made love to some many times before made his dick all the harder and eager. He cursed them both as she continued to pull off the sheets for access to his right arm and its bloody, clawless paw.

His member was about to exposed when she knowingly stopped to treat the arm that was closest to her. She unraveled the stained layers of cloth one-by-one until the caked blood on red fur was all that remained perched between her soft boobs and their silky bra, supported and kept from hurting him too much as she cleaned his wounds and redid the wrapping.

Through the slow treatment, his member stood stiffly under the hot sheets and they made eye contact many times as he glanced at the mangled thing that used be his best weapon in countless battles by his master's side. He as well caught extra, head-on glances at her chest and felt it through the bra and blouse that barely kept them from being exposed to the world.

The whole arm was in a little pain when she finished, but it wasn't hell to move it anymore, unlike the one on his left that couldn't be used for anything until she helped it, yet it would have to wait because she decided that it was time to move forward and pulled back the sheets to expose the member that had been waiting for her the whole time.

"Oh My Gosh!" she exclaimed, acting surprised. It was red and a little small for a Pokémon of his size, but that was somewhat expected for the "cat-ferret" Pokémon. It was thicker at the base than at the tip which had a bulbous shape that she recognized as the head which shook with every pounding of the Pokémon's frantic heart. She was a little surprised about the tiny barbs that accompanied the shape but with what she knew, and had seen first-hand, of feline Pokémon anatomy it wasn't enough to break the routine she was playing. "Someone likes his nurse. Doesn't he?" She remarked in voice as smooth has her undergarments as a hand went to the base of his penis where she worked him up and down in a rhythm that was painfully slow, lagging five to ten beats behind his chest.

It felt like he couldn't take it anymore; and, at this point, he didn't want it to stop. He was being given a hand job by the most attractive person or thing he'd seen in a month; and he couldn't do anything else to stop the need that welled up between his legs.

She consciously missed stimulating the tip to spare her hand and because she knew that was what would send him over but made sure to squeeze the base of the penis with each slow stroke of her palm. Soon it was dripping hot pre that lubed the whole length, and she took a seat on the bed beside him to use her free hand to scratch his chin and cause his throat to let out a slow, instinctive purr. He was hers to mold and use now, and she wasn't going to let go of him soon. "To think that a Pokémon like you would want so bad to fuck his nurse. You're such a dirty little boy."

Her voice speaking down at him made him feel strangely aroused. Soon she was emulating the thrusts into a partner that he hadn't been making for some time, and he was quickly practically fucking her hand.

"Oh! I almost forgot." She suddenly stopped handling his member. "You have another paw that I have to take care of." The ditzy nurse routine got him into the hand job, but it would take him out of it just as quick and needy as before. She was quick with this one, and he felt that she knew along how hard he was and how much he wanted to fuck.

Soon she was finished, and the Zangoose was afraid that he was going to be left hanging despite the fact that his real fate would be even worse. Before she left, she leaned over to the musky member that was in the middle of the bed and room and made her tongue do a couple of slow laps around the head, careful not to let him bust and make a mess for her or, more likely, an Audino to clean up.

She savored the interesting texture of his tip and made a mental note to try this with one of her feline regulars back home before throwing the sheets over him and leaving him aroused but unpleased. He had no way of getting off now. His paws were both still in too much paint to give himself the grasping stroking it needed, and he couldn't turn over without undoing the machines that clued the nurses in on his status. What was he to do?

As it pulsed beneath the covers, it felt almost like it was going to bust without him doing anything, and he thought it would be merciful except that someone could come in there and see him, laying in a puddle of his own kits under the sheets. They would think he was just masturbating and then he'd be fucked real hard. After reasoning this, the thought of his tip firing at will filled him with fear.

After about ten minutes he felt safe, but it still hadn't gone down, and the nurse and his master were all he could think about as he lay there and the lights went out again. He was in the dark with nothing but an aching erection, arousal, and his thoughts to occupy him; but without any means to take up the pastime that should have naturally fallen out of this set of stimuli. As a result, he was thoroughly frustrated.