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The boy's Growlithe lands a solid hit, pushing Buzzy back--and though the Magnemite still has much fight left, this will be his first badge. I've tested him enough, and through a subtle clearing of my throat, Buzzy understands the invisible message and knows to play dead.

I've 'lost' the battle.

The boy breaks into a toothy grin as I recall Buzzy. "Congratulations," I tell him, my voice warm and proud. "You've defeated the Olivine Gym and have won the Mineral Badge." I fish out the badge, a solid, humble octagon of grey metal and place it in his eager hands. He looks at it with awe, his Growlithe prancing happily at his heels, barking.

He looks up, as if almost afraid to believe he did it. "Really?" he asks, his voice tight with awe. His hair is red, a few shades lighter than his Growlithe's fur; freckles spray across his nose and cheeks.

"Really," I say, shooting him my best smile. He beams and rushes out of the Gym, racing to brag to his friends.

As he goes, I gasp from the feeling of activity in my belly as something within tumbles over itself, giving a playful, almost indulgent kick. "Not a moment too soon," I murmur down to my occupant, rubbing my hand softly across the off-white sundress that covers my maternal sphere.

My name is Jasmine. I'm Gym Leader of Olivine City, on the coast of Johto. I specialize in Steel-types. And I'm currently pregnant.

The boy's pokemon are weak, but he fought hard and earnestly. There is no harm in awarding him a badge, especially since it's his first. Gym Leaders don't use their full power until the eighth badge is on the line. (Well, except Clair, but she's an outlier for several reasons.) Not to mention that I've seen his like before. Most trainers--especially children--aren't interested in the full set of eight. They just want one, one little token to show that they can do it, rise to meet the challenge and prove that they are worth something. The vast majority of people get one badge to show their friends and family, pin somewhere in their home or office to smile at when they look at it, and then go on with their lives. Maybe the boy will be spurred on to take the journey up to Ectruteak and try himself against Morty, but I don't think so. This moment--surety in himself--was all he really wanted. The badge was just a way to get that. I already have confidence in my ability. What's the hurt in tossing a few fights every now and then to give others a taste of the same feeling?

Part of me wonders if that's just maternity talking. If I'm growing sentimental due to the life budding inside of me, keeping me awake at night with its sensations and activities, making me burn and blush, coaxing a sweet ache from my breasts that sometimes leave dark spots on my blouses. The baby will be coming soon. A week, perhaps two. I can't wait. Excitement rules my everyday.

The boy's happiness is infectious and stokes some motherly fire in me, and I slowly waddle my way to my Gym office, my baby acting up every few steps. I stroke my tummy tenderly with one hand, hoping to soothe the little one. They're so impatient; they can't wait to get out. I can't wait to see them, but they're really making things hard for me!

I sink into my chair with a heavy sigh, the added weight making me plop like a stone in a pond. My pregnancy has made me happier than I've been in a long time, but the closer I get to my due date, the wearier I become... carrying a baby is hard at the best of times.

Carrying a pokemon is even more demanding.

Thoughts swirl through my head. Yes, the ultimate taboo--a woman sleeping with her pokemon, bearing the children of her pokemon. Such unions are not unknown, though they are highly uncommon. A woman who bears pokemon offspring risks becoming a pariah, and the fact that I'm a Leader only makes things more scandalous.

I didn't broadcast what I was carrying, of course, but it was clear to anyone who paid attention. All the little signs. I waited for a note of censure from Indigo Plateau, but it never came... perhaps I have Clair to thank for that. The Dragon Clan's liaisons with their chosen types are an open secret, and it would be hypocritical for the League to condemn me while turning a blind eye elsewhere. So long as I don't make a fuss, they can stick their fingers in their ears and pretend it never happened.

In the end, I suppose it's probably for the best. I love my position as Leader, but if push came to shove, I'd leave it if forced to choose between it and Amphy.

Remembering my paramour makes me blush. Amphy...

Olivine is a modest port town with a deceptively deep history. Nearly four hundred years old, it began when people congregated on the coast to trade with passing boats. Eventually they stopped coming in tents and caravans and set up shop. To facilitate safe landings, they built the lighthouse.

My family has been tending to it ever since.

Across the ages, the lighthouse keepers have held an impeccable role; mother to son, father to daughter, passing our duty down generation to generation. The Leadership is transient; the lighthouse is who I am. It's sculpted into my identity, my very DNA. Amphy isn't just a teammate. He's the pokemon who has performed an irreplacable duty over the years. When the tower first went up, my many-times great grandmother, the first and greatest of my line of keepers, put her Flaaffy there. And as our line has continued to tend the stones and keep the harbor safe, so has their line kept the skies bright, the flash of yellow signaling safe harbor to the ships who keep Olivine thriving.

The Mareep inside of me kicks once more, the action visible as a bump against my tummy, and I gasp again before chastising my offspring with a smile. I hadn't intended for this. I didn't even know that Ampharos and humans were compatible. I thought it was only humanoids who could breed with people.

(Everyone knows how Grimmsnarl and the Hitmon line propagate, even if it's not polite discussion. Pokemon inherit the species of the mother, and they're all-male--and Ditto are a recent addition, genetically engineered. Logically, they wouldn't be able to reproduce unless something else was carrying their children. Something that didn't adhere to the usual rules of pokemon genetic inheritance. When a woman specializes in Fighting-types and little Machop and Tyrogue and Riolu start popping up, the assumption--fair or not--is always to figure she had an intimate role in their creation unless decisively proven otherwise.)

But Ampharos are not the Hitmons. They're sheep, not simians. So I was safe. Or so I thought.

My baby kicks again and the sensation makes me blush. Had I known this was a possibility, would I have gone through with it? Yes... I think I would have. I blush harder.

Because I... I love Amphy. With all my heart.

Part of me wonders if I'm the first in four hundred years. I can't be, right? Year after year, generation after generation, the keepers have been working side-by-side with the Ampharos who light the night. We tend their injuries, train them for battle, take them for walks along the seacoast, sleep just a short ways away from the chamber where they spill their radiance. They're not just coworkers. They're not just friends. We're partners.

I've long admired Amphy for the sleekness of his form. His impeccably groomed coat, the powerful muscles of his legs, his confident tenor of a voice. He is an indisputably handsome pokemon. And just like me, he takes his family legacy seriously. We trained together to inherit the lighthouse, and the day when we officially became keeper and pokemon was the happiest day of both our lives.

I'll never forget that first night. The two of us excitedly and proudly taking our positions as night fell. He lit his tail and the mirrors in the chamber reflected the light across the sea. The two of us, alone, celebrated, me falling over him with laughter, draping my arms around his long, lithe neck.

The laughter faded, but I didn't let go, and he raised his paws around me, pressing against my back. His strength... so comforting, so deceptive. I had no chance to escape, though I knew as I looked into his eyes, the pupils shining like onyx, that I only had to speak a word and he'd let me go.

But I didn't want to be let go.

"We did it," I'd told him, my voice a whisper. I don't know why I was whispering. We were alone. Only the keeper and her pokemon are allowed into the lighthouse after dark. Those strictures predate Johto as a nation.

He warbled something in reply in that pokemon fashion, but the point was clear: Yes. We did it.

I felt so proud, so fulfilled, so... so...

Why couldn't I take my eyes away from his? Why didn't I want to break his gaze? Why were his paws so soft and warm and safe and strong and comforting on my back? Why, why, why...

I reached up to cup his chin and he trilled, never taking his sight from me. His tail, pulsing low, coiled around me, both keeping me safe and claiming me.

I realize I liked that. I wanted to be claimed. By him.

I wanted...

His paws tightened against my back, pulling me closer.

Closer...

We kissed.

We did so much more than that.

And the next morning, I rose from bed red-eyed and aching and smiling as my pokemon, my partner, my lover dimmed his tail, and I realized that I never had a chance. For the lighthouse to function, keeper and pokemon had to have a bond which transcended the usual level. We shared a sacred duty, each of us reliant upon the other. And that morning, I wondered, truly wondered, just how my ancestors had gone four hundred years without succumbing to molding that bond into something more.

There's no way I'm the first. I can't be. The first to bear their children, perhaps; but not the first to take that closeness to its natural conclusion.

We'd indulged in one another several times since then. There had been a scare earlier this year, a rare strain of disease... when medicine from Cianwood had brought him back, I'd showed my happiness the only way I knew how.

I can't say for sure, but I think I conceived that night.

Reminiscence wafts over me like the scent of an Apicot Berry, and I recognize my mood. I need him. My Amphy.

I rise from my chair and waddle out of my office. My assistant, Dana, is there, looking studious in her horn-rimmed spectacles, her olive skin blemishless. She had already taken a stronger hand in running the Gym than was usual for most seconds thanks to my duty as lighthouse keeper eating much of my time. And thanks to my condition the last few months, she'd stepped up even more.

I honestly don't deserve Dana. She's a competent administrator, a keen negotiator, a talented battler. If or when I retire from the Leadership, she's a natural candidate to take over. (Grass-type specialist, but then nobody's perfect. And Sakura, her Leafeon, is a genuine hellion in battle. She'll make a good ace pokemon for higher-level battles.)

"Any other battles scheduled for the day?" I ask.

Dana doesn't look up from her PokeGear, which she is almost always tapping at. "No ma'am."

I nod, cradling my roundness with one arm. "Close early. Medical reasons."

She raises her eyes from the device and in the split second she takes me in--dressed lightly, round with life, cheeks soft with motherhood and flushed with want--she seems to instantly understand everything. She knows about me and Amphy, of course. There's no way she couldn't. But not only is she competent, she's open-minded.

"Of course, ma'am," she says, and though her face remains passive, there's the ghost of a knowing smile to the way her voice lilts that makes me blush. "Should I keep tomorrow clear as well?"

I consider it, but shake my head. "No, I should be good for a few more days. Let's give applicants a chance to get a badge before I convalesce for a few months."

She nods, approving, and turns back to her PokeGear, fingers a blur. "As you say, ma'am."

As I step out into the cloudy sun of Olivine, her voice follows me, playful in its sheer lack of playfulness: "And don't forget to have fun tonight."

I can hear the smile in her voice. I smile myself, blushing deeper than usual. Oh, I plan to.

---

People wave to me as I pass them on the streets and docks. As both Leader and lighthouse keeper, I'm the closest thing to a celebrity this little town has. And while I'd gotten some disapproving stares and not-so-closeted mutters when I'd first started to swell, by this point anyone who was going to give me grief has long since exhausted themselves. The ones who remain are either open-minded like Dana or simply don't feel it's in their best interest to antagonize a League official. So I return smiles and nods and make the occasional small talk, cradling and caressing my belly all the while. Their eyes are inevitably drawn to it, time and time again, but I've grown used to that. Any pregnant woman knows that her belly will invite interest.

I bid farewell to a fading old dockwocker, a Pidgey perched on his shoulder, and make my way to the lighthouse. Tours are normally offered in the daytime, but it's quiet, and I lock the doors and flip the No Entry sign. Normally I make the brisk hike twice a day as my exercise, but I'm far too gravid to do so now. I take the elevator instead.

When the door hisses open at the top floor, Amphy is dozing--but he blinks and yawns at my approach, excitement driving the sleep from him. He steps over to me, babbling nonsense in query and reaching his paws for my tummy. I raise my sundress to let him touch the skin directly.

"It'll be any day now," I murmur, and he coos happily in response. His touch is so comforting on my tummy. Keeping my sundress hiked with one hand, I rest the other atop his paw, keeping it pressed against me, sort and warm and safe. Just like him.

His eyes meet mine and he trills.

"Yeah," I say. I'm not one of those individuals blessed with psychic powers or Aura. I cannot understand pokemon. But Amphy... the two of us have a connection that transcends our species. I may not understand his voice--but I know what he is saying. I can read it in the subtle notes of emotion, in the way he carries himself, in the slight movements of his eyes. To me, the fact that he's asking if our child is doing well is as plain as the clouds curtaining the sky outside, as apparent as the distant slap of the slate-grey sea lapping against the stones at the tower's base. "They're doing well. Healthy." I smile roguishly. "They've been acting up a lot. Seems they inherited their father's pugnaciousness."

Amphy snorts and then leans in close to me, resting his head against my neck, the long trunk of his arm settling against my shoulder. I hold him tight and sigh.

He rumbles something, so soft that I more feel it rather than hear it, and I murmur back: "I know, Amphy. Me too." In response he trails his paws slowly up my sides, the touch soft and gliding. Up he goes, higher, past my aching breasts, the curve of my neck, until he reaches my chin. As he cups my face I do the same to him, both of us touching the other. We lock eyes. And then we pull each other in.

His kiss is soft and tender and bright and everything I love in the world; warmth and truth and passion and kindness. His fur-coated lips are warm against mine and for a few glorious minutes, all that there is in the whole universe can be condensed down to this moment: the two of us, aglow in our love for one another, his child in my belly, our bright and shining love transcending species.

Before I even know it I'm tugging my sundress up, his amber-coated paws helping me, fresh and familiar against my body. My frilless white bra and matching underwear follow suit. And now my body is truly on display, my pale skin flush with arousal, my alluring hips and thighs framing a round, tight belly in which even now a baby pokemon is being happily nurtured. My breasts sit higher still, swollen and tender with motherhood, a tiny bead of thin milk starting to dribble out of the right one. My areolae are darker and larger, my nipples firm. Down below, all but hidden by the bountiful swell, my slit is slick with anticipation, the lightly trimmed hairs above matching my head in color, like antique brass.

Amphy is more than ready. His normally-sheathed cock has sprouted full-force from its position at the base of his tummy, the vivid red color bright against the cloudy white of his tummy. His ears flick and arousal colors his cheeks crimson. He holds out one gentlemanly paw and I take it, the two of us falling back onto my bed, him in a sitting position, me on his lap, both of us eager and ready.

"Amphy," I say to him, "I love you... more than I can say. This?" I rest one hand atop my tummy, smiling at the feeling of our child pushing within. "This is what I want, more than anything. To love you, to make love to you, to carry the fruits of our love..."

His paws settle into their familiar places on my hips. Oh, gods, I want this. I want it so bad.

Not everyone gets what they want. I should feel blessed.

And as I drape one arm over his shoulder, the other steadying my position on the bed, I tug him towards me and he slips inside and I mewl, and I do feel blessed. I do.

And then my pokemon makes love to me.

Oh, he knows how I like it--slow at first, so soft and tender, his thick animal rod strumming sensations from my oh-so-stimulated pussy. The slow tenderness of it all just dra-a-a-a-gs the feeling of a slow, sensuous fucking out of me, and I thread my fingers through his fur in response; sparks dance around my touch, tiny static jolts. It's a microscopic display of his power, not remotely threatening even to a human, but it still reminds me of the exoticism of it all, that this is a beast of light and thunder whom I have passionately taken to bed, who has filled me with a child and who, gods willing, will do so again.

I'm a Gym Leader. I'm supposed to be the best of the best, the type of woman to command pokemon. Yet the more I think of Amphy, the more in awe I feel. He truly is something special.

As he hikes in, I press against his back and the pressure spurs him, his cock going faster and faster inside of me. The lighthouse aerie is filled with lewd squelching noises and an accompanying melody of both our pants and groans, our voices high and tight. His eyes meet mine and wordless adulation passes between the two of us.

Steadying myself on his shoulder, I raise myself up a little bit and then slam home and I keen, the sudden eruption of blissful pleasure exploding through me like fireworks across the night sky. This is what it means to possess the sort of bond which has been nurtured for four hundred years; this is the natural result of when pokemon and people are really, truly partners. I lift up and slide home again, all but melting about Amphy, my pussy fluttering tight. When I clench, he sings. I'm only his trainer on paper. We're equals, as lovers should be, as people and pokemon should be, and I glory in his warmth and his love and his fur and his cock.

By now, I've taken over. He is no longer bucking or rutting his hips; he simply sits there, holding tight to me, eyes half-lidded with arousal and passion. His breathing is quick and shallow. I begin riding him faster and faster, hoisting myself up, dropping lower, clenching tight whenever he hilts into me, his cock snugly fitting into my muff and tensing deliciously with every squeeze I give him. Juices are caked lewdly about our loins, splashing the inside of my thighs and coating his fur. He reaches one paw up and squeezes gently about one of my breasts and my voice squeaks as a small trickle of milk leaks out.

"Amphy..." I moan, still bouncing up and down. He trails his paws down, ever-so-gently tracing the curve of my tummy. He warbles happy when he feels his child press against him, and I can sense his eagerness. I share it. I want so desperately to bring one more into our little family.

His paw dips lower, bumping over my tight and sensitive bellybutton; lower still. And then, as I slam home again and clench, one fur-covered digit finds my clit and almost lazily swirls about it, like flotsam circling a tidal pool.

And that does it for me.

The touch of my pokemon brings me to orgasm and I slump against him, sobbing with sheer bliss, my pussy clenching passionately about him, and I just repeat his name like a prayer: Amphy, Amphy, Amphy...

Amidst my crescendoing orgasm, I'm aware of his grip tightening. He barks out a grunt and his cock tenses, and then he's flooding me, a repetition of the act which left me in this state to begin with.

Afterwards both of us slowly drift down, me laying on my side, him spooning against me. He rests his warm chin in the nook of my shoulder, one paw holding me close, the other stroking my tummy, and he babbles praise at me. It doesn't matter that I don't know the sounds. This is proof that we do more than rut. We truly do glory in each other most of all.

As if perturbed by the sudden lack of activity, the Mareep nestled inside of me pushes out again; I gasp at the activity and Amphy trills, stroking my tummy to bring comfort to both his mate and his child.

"I meant what I said," I murmured to him, my voice soft. I was fighting to stay awake; "about love. And about you."

He holds me tighter and I can feel a pleased rumble in his chest.

"And about having another... if you want one."

His tail flashes brightly for a moment and I am reminded that soon we will have duties this night, a light to kindle and ships to guide. The sky is painted the vivid coral of pre-dusk. A lighthouse keeper's duty is never finished.

But my partner nuzzles against me from behind and I can only smile. That is for later. For now... for now I am glad to just drift down in the presence and touch of my pokemon mate, my belly tight with his child.

It's as happy as I've ever been.