FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sylveon was normally in a better mood, in the hours following a good and thorough rutting. Having been stuck in this valley for just about forever, now, ruttings were one of the only things that kept her precious sanity intact. Well, there was also violence. Violence helped her sanity, quite a bit. Ruttings were better for her fur, but that was neither here nor there. The point is, Sylveon usually appreciated the glow that comes from a roll in the tall grass. In this particular instance, however, Sylveon found that the glow she had managed to win had faded almost as quickly as she felt herself dribbling out the last dregs of human cum from her sex. In its place was the sort of sharp, insistent, all-encompassing anger that one only feels when they are trying to distract from the fact that they had just suffered a humiliating loss.

And so, when she returned to her home, the large tower in the center of the former Team Terror stronghold, the sight of some other creature sitting in her bed was something she took a very dim view about. As were all the other creatures in the Boss's Room, rummaging through her piles of scavenged goods and laying around anywhere they could put their wild, unwashed bodies.

“Oh, look!" The creature on her bed, a Liepard with a scar along his left eye, flitted his tail in amusement. “The Queen has finally decided to return to her castle."

“Liepard," Sylveon replied, in that perfectly fluent human speech that always put the wild Pokemon on edge. “Decided to wait until I went to go run an errand before coming in and making yourself at home, I see."

“You hear that, boys? An 'errand,' she calls it." A chuckle rose from the group of monsters around the room, of various degrees of believability. This was not the first time that the large cat had made an attempt on the Tower, and many of his underlings understood the immense danger they were in. Liepard never seemed to lack confidence, however. Sylveon might have admired the pluck, were she in any other mood.

“Aww." Sylveon made a face of mock-concern. “Sorry. I forgot that you're a big boy, now, and can handle me using grown-up words. How is that ratty old Delcatty, anyway? She still giving out pity-fucks to all the losers in the valley, or have you two worked out an exclusivity deal?"

Liepard was almost insultingly easy to rile up. The look on his face, as he rose to his paws, was one of the other things that Sylveon realized was keeping her sanity intact. “She's fine," he hissed back. “She'll be even better once I show her where she'll be sleeping, from now on."

“Well, aren't you sweet, caring for the elderly like that." Sylveon's smile had a venom to it that would make a Seviper quail. “Well, it was nice of you to stop by, but you really should get going."

Sylveon was dimly aware that she was surrounded, that a few of the more suicidal Pokemon were closing off her escape route. She was dimly aware of this, because to pay any more attention would require that she first care. Liepard leapt from the bed, the large purple cat standing with all the majesty of a would-be king. It was almost convincing enough to get some of the stragglers in the back to believe that they might pull this little coup off.

“You talk a lot," Liepard began. “Really, that's kind of all you do. I ain't falling for this little display of bravado you've got going on, though. Look around you, Your Majesty. There's ten of us here, and only one of you. Your pet dragon is off playing with himself. And despite the fact that you clearly tried to get some strange outside your type..." He leaned in close, taking a few deep sniffs, his mouth open and grinning. “We can all smell how vulnerable you really are, right now."

Sylveon rolled her eyes. “And you think I talk a lot?"

Liepard chuckled. “Go on, Princess. Lower your haunches for us. Maybe if you ask real nicely, you can walk out of here with a more permanent solution to that heat."

She bristled. It was almost certainly a coincidence. Liepard could not have known what sort of button he had pressed. However, if there was one thing she would not stand, it was hearing someone call her “Princess," with that tone of voice.

“Liepard... oh, you sweet little baby." Sylveon's smile widened, even as her eyes turned almost corpse-like. “You're wrong about the one thing that matters. My pet dragon is probably playing with himself. But he's not doing it outside the sound of my voice."

Liepard's eyes widened.

Sylveon threw her head back. “Slave?!" she shouted, brassily, to the ceiling. “Get your ass down here, right now!"

The ceiling of this room was high, mostly owing to poor planning on the part of the anarchists who built it. A large hole had been blasted out of it, after some battle or other. It was through this hole that a large yellow shape came screaming down into the room. Liepard and the other invaders all scrambled, expecting a crash and destroyed floors. However, the blur that dive-bombed the room suddenly pulled up, resolving into the shape of a six-foot tall dragon. The force of such a maneuver unleashed a blast of air that shook the walls.

“Dragonite keeps an eye on the place, while I'm gone," Sylveon explained, idly brushing dust off herself with her ribbon-like tendrils. “He doesn't fight off the intruders until I tell him to, though." She grinned at Liepard with full fang. “He knows I like to watch."

Dragonite looked around the room, his soft face pulled back in feral, unrestrained hatred. He roared at the top of his lungs.

At least three of Liepard's friends scrambled for the door, immediately. Most of the rest hesitated. Only when one or two decided to fight did the room descend into horrible violence. Sylveon sat on her hind legs, watching screaming Pokemon get punted across the room by Dragonite and his impossibly fast punches. It was too bad that this battle was taking place where she slept. Her powerful little toy was too smart to bust out the really destructive stuff, in a place like this, and it would have really made her day to see Liepard staring at an approaching Hyper Beam and pissing himself.

Within the span of a couple of horrific minutes, Liepard and four other creatures were at various corners of the room. The rest were howling for mercy as they joined their smarter friends in running away. Dragonite scanned the room, looking for something else to vent his rage on. When it was obvious that nothing here moved besides Sylveon, his claws unclenched, and his eyes became less sharp, and his breathing slowed. In a process that Sylveon never got tired of seeing, Dragonite turned from a monstrous killer to a doe-eyed and placid creature.

“Are you okay?" he asked, with guileless concern. “Did any of them get too close to you?"

“Liepard got his breath on me," Sylveon replied, “but you took care of him."

“Good." Dragonite smiled exactly like something that hadn't just got done inflicting horrible violence. “In that case, welcome home, Queen. How was your trip to the Training Pitch?" Sylveon's mood soured immediately. Dragonite brought his hands up to his mouth. “Oh. Was I not supposed to ask? I'm sorry. Forget I said anyth..."

“Where the fuck were you?" Sylveon barked. “I had the human in the pads of my paws, when Father of the Year and his little Egg gremlins came running in to interrupt my wholesome little kidnapping!"

Dragonite did not understand but, suspecting that he was now in trouble, immediately fell to his soft belly and stretched himself out before his boss. “Oh no! I'm so sorry, my Queen! I don't... you told me to stay and watch the tower. You said you didn't want me there when you made the human your new toy."

Sylveon sighed, rolling her eyes with a faux-dramatic air. “Draggy, Draggy, Draggy, you dumb little bitch." Bringing her ribbons forward, she smushed Dragonite's cheeks together, staring directly into his fearful eyes. “Of course I wanted you to see me make the human my toy. I wanted you to sneak out of this tower and watch me get absolutely ravaged by human cock, rubbing your puny little meat-stick as you fantasized about licking me clean, afterwards."

“Uh den'n noh, muh Kwen," Dragonite blubbered, struggling to form coherent words with his face so contorted. “Fuhgib meh!"

She only sighed in response, dropping the dragon's face so that his chin slapped against the stone floor. “Well," she said, “it's all ruined, now. Thanks to that Arcanine and the sick polycule that Pokefucker's managed to slap together, I had to come back to my tower with my tail between my legs." She threw her head back, tendrils on her chest and forehead in a crude pantomime of a woman swooning. “Oh, I shall never live it down!"

Dragonite looked up, despairingly. Then, his expression hardened. “Let me go out, my Queen. I'll bring the human to you. I'll drag him here, and I'll throw that Arcanine into the ocean."

Sylveon scoffed, turning away. “Yeah. That's not happening."

“I'm serious!" Dragonite pulled himself up onto his elbows, the spark of rage igniting in his eyes once again. “Tell me where I can find this human. I'll tear apart the mountains if I have t..."

Sylveon whipped back around, her expression livid. “You get the fuck back down!"

As quickly as any semblance of confidence emerged in the dragon, it immediately evaporated. Dragonite slammed himself back down to the floor, arms and legs spread, a practiced position he had been made to take a thousand times before. His eyes widened in terror, and when Sylveon stepped forward and pressed one of her front paws against his snout, all he could do was tremble and whimper.

“Where do you get off, huh?" Sylveon cocked her head, looking down her petite snout into her slave's soulful eyes with sheer, caustic disgust. “You don't get to do your 'big scary dragon' thing unless I tell you to! You keep that scowl off your dumb little face, you hear me?"

Dragonite did not have the words to signal his agreement. He could only try to nod his head, pinned down as he was by Sylveon's little paw.

“Good." Sylveon's lips curled up into a smile. “You look so much better like this, anyway."

Dragonite's expression tightened. He knew what was likely to happen, once Sylveon started throwing around compliments. “W-wait... please, I don't..."

She chuckled, as a pink glow began to suffuse her body. Her words began to echo, faintly, as they left her lips. “Such a cute little draggy,"

Dragonite began to shake harder. “Please, my Queen. Not the Voice. Anything but the Voice!"

“Who's a cute little draggy?"

“M..." The dragon's eyes began to gloss over, his lips curling up into a dopey grin. “M-m-me?"

“That's right!" Sylveon beamed, her voice and expression suddenly saccharine. “Why would you want to be a big, scary dragon, when you can be my cute and cuddly little draggy-poo?"

“C-c-cuddly?" The fear had melted away, replaced with a happy flit of the tail and a look of affection that bordered on awe. “I'm... cuddly?"

“Only the cuddliest little draggy in the whole fucking valley!"

“Oh... oh, goodness, my Queen. I wish you'd stop talking like that. It's so embarrassing!"

“Shhh..." Taking her paw off of Dragonite's face, Sylveon padded over to one side of the large dragon. Slowly, luxuriously, she clambered atop his body. Taking a seat on his back, she began to idly preen herself as she spoke. “I'll talk to my wonderful pets however I want. It's not my fault that you're so much of a stupid fucking lump of lard that I have to remind you how adorable you are."

The Voice only worked when Sylveon said nice and pleasant things. Why this was the case, she had no idea, and frankly she considered having to talk like a cartoon princess to be one of the most debasing things about being stuck in this particular evolutionary form. However, she had learned pretty quickly that she could slip a few, shall we say, “spicier" turns of phrase in her words, without threatening the hold she had over her victims. What's more, she discovered that doing so had a jarring effect on anyone who heard it, which made her smile in that way that only the sight of discomfort could make her smile.

Dragonite flinched, the same way he might have if he had been physically struck by the sudden lurches in tone from the creature atop him. “I... I-I-I'm sorry, Queen. I'm sorry I'm so stupid."

Sylveon made a show of shushing the dragon, once again. “It's okay, little draggy. You know I can't stay mad at that silly little face, of yours. Especially not when it's down on the floor where it fucking belongs and you keep making those cute little noises like the bitch you are. Isn't it so much nicer when you let me worry about everything?"

Dragonite did not respond, at first. All he could manage was a weak little whine, in the back of his throat, before he managed to find his voice. “P-please... My Queen, when you talk to me like that, I..."

“Oh, dear." Sylveon feigned concern, even though nothing but her position out of Dragonite's line of sight was keeping her from cracking up and breaking character. “Whatever is wrong? You're squirming so much; I can feel it!"

“Please..." Dragonite squeaked. “Please let me get up, my Queen. It's... I'm stuck."

“Stuck? What do you...?" Craning her head behind her, she saw exactly what she expected to see, throbbing between Dragonite's short little legs and pressing into the tiles of the floor. She made it a point to gasp dramatically. “Oh, dearie me. Did hearing me call you bad names get you hard, again?"

Dragonite wanted to bury his head in his hands, but he did not dare remove them from the floor without Sylveon's permission. He settled for closing his eyes as hard as he could.

Sylveon giggled, hopping off of his back to walk around to his rear end. “You're such a silly draggy, you know that. I don't know anyone who gets a stiffy over being called a pathetic worm, you know? And yet, here you are, rubbing your tiny little dragon cock all over your Queen's bedroom floor. What's the matter, draggy-poo? Are the other Pokemon in the valley not giving you what you need because they know what a worthless fucking piece of shit you are? Don't worry. Mama Sylveon can give you what you need." She let out her ribbons, dragging them softly across either side of Dragonite's wide rump and trailing down.

Dragonite gasped, urgently. “Wait... d-don't touch it! It's too sensi...ohhhhh!"

Despite what she continually implied, Dragonite's member was anything but tiny. With the creature himself standing just a bit taller than an adult human, the curvy and tapered thing that she pried out from under his belly was more than proportional. Still, for reasons that amused her greatly, he seemed to really like it when she made fun of its size. Even when he wasn't in the middle of a Disarming Voice haze, it was exactly the sort of thing that drove him nuts. Discovering that particular kink had made Sylveon's month, when she had stumbled across it.

“You're right," she fake-marveled, as she wrapped a tendril around his member and began to stroke. “You're already dribbling, and I've barely even touched you. You must be really hurting for this, to feel somebody rubbing your little dragon clitty. Somebody other than you, I suppose. I know you've been so lonely, up on that roof all day."

“I... I haven't," Dragonite protested, despite the blush in his cheeks. “I haven't touched it. Y-you said I wasn't allowed to touch it, ever again, and..."

“Oh, yeah. I did say that, didn't I?" She giggled, as her tendril began to stroke faster. A second wrapped around the base of Dragonite's tail, pulling it up just far enough to be uncomfortable. “You're so silly. What would all the other Pokemon say, if they saw you like this? I bet they'd be all sorts of mean." Dragonite's whimpers got more plaintive, at the thought, which only spurred her to push harder. “You know, there's a bunch of other guys in here. You think any of them are awake? You think they can see you grovelling in the dirt like a worm?"

The thought clearly had not occurred to Dragonite, and from where he was sprawled on the floor, he could not see any of the creatures he had beat up. Liepard was behind them, if his memory served; if he was awake, he would have a clear line of sight to... Nervously, he began to squirm in Sylveon's grip. “Oh, no. Please... please let me up, my Queen. I..."

“No." Slyveon dropped the Voice, in its entirety. The ribbon around Dragonite's cock began to pump fast and hard. “This is where you belong, you stupid fucking dragon. You think you get to cum standing up? Like some kind of alpha? No, sir. You're gonna dribble out your pathetic lizard seed all over the floor, in front of all the Pokemon you just beat up. Now hold fucking still!"

Slowly, the effects of Sylveon's voice started to wear off, and Dragonite was beginning to sober up. Of course, this meant that he was slowly becoming aware of the position he was in, and what he had let her talk him into. By that point, however, it was too late. Sylveon's ribbon was relentless in its assault, and by the time the fog had lifted from his mind, Dragonite was only a half dozen strokes away from the edge. With a strangled, feral growl, he arched his back. His taloned toes stretched. Then, the room was full of the wet drumming noise of hot dragon cum on stone tile. Dragonite gasped and moaned, his body trembling with every squirt and spasm.

Sylveon continued to milk that tapered appendage until it finally stopped crying. And then she played with it for a few moments beside. Then, finally, she withdrew. “Palkia's tits, man," she complained, looking down at the coating of seed that had spattered up into her fur. “You always cum too much. Especially when you're on your belly like this."

“Oh..." Dragonite slumped back down, expression dopey and relieved. “Oh... dear, that was..."

Sylveon rolled her eyes, walking around the puddle, one tendril held up and dripping cum. “Hey!" she shouted. “Cut that out. You don't have time to lay there all cum-brained. I've got work for you."

Shaking his head, Dragonite rolled on his chin to get a look at Sylveon out of the corner of his eye. “Y-you do?"

“What's with that look, huh? You said you wanted to help, didn't you?"

“Y-yes?"

“Good. Then get up." Sylveon watched as Dragonite stumbled up to his feet. He nearly slipped on his mess, in the process, which would have probably been funny enough to save her entire night. When he turned out to not be so obliging, she scowled up at him. “You're gonna go find that Machoke for me. Tell him that the Queen of the Valley needs his help tracking down some missing treasures."

“Machoke?" Dragonite seemed concerned. “But... that guy's not gonna work for free."

“That's why you're gonna offer him payment." Sylveon looked at the semen dripping from her tendril, distractedly. “The old pervert'll do just about anything, so long as someone warms his bed, first."

“I don't know if that will work, my Queen," Dragonite replied, uneasily. “Everyone in the valley knows that Machoke doesn't really mate with females. He only ever goes for other..." Realization dawned on him, inspired mostly by the diabolical smirk that was beginning to play on the fox's face. Dragonite's eyes widened. “Oh, dear. You mean that I have to...?"

“I'm gonna stop you there, slave." Sylveon's expression hardened, as she met his eyes. “You 'have' to do whatever the fuck I want you to do. That's how this relationship works. If I tell you to fight, you fight. And if I tell you to let a horny old Machoke bend you over and try to put an Egg in your ass, the only thing you'd better ask about that is whether I want to watch or not."

Dragonite brought his hands up to his chest, tapping his claws together and blushing. “Do... do you want to watch, my Queen?"

“Not this time," Sylveon replied, with a sigh. “I'm already lewded out. You can go get that done, without me." Waving her free tendril, she said. “Go on, then. Off you go."

“N-n-now?"

“Yes, now." Sylveon once again glared up at the dragon. “Or do you want me to ask nicely?"

The question sent a jolt of raw terror through Dragonite. In a trice, he flexed his wings and took off, taking to the air and flying out of the hole in the ceiling without another word.

Sylveon watched him leave. Then, turning around, she walked over to where Liepard lay on the floor. “You dead over there, kitty? I'd rather not have to drag your corpse out of here."

Liepard opened his eyes, begrudgingly. “You guys are sick," he hissed, through the pain of talking.

Sylveon scoffed. “Don't give me that. You were hoping to jump on my hips, just a little bit ago." Smiling, she rubbed her ribbon against Liepard's face, eyes narrowing sardonically as she wiped the dragon off on him. “What's the matter, kitty? Lost your libido after seeing what real sex looks like?" Liepard snarled, trying and failing for a moment to pull his face away, before ultimately staggering back onto his paws out of the fox's reach. Sylveon did not pursue. Instead, she let her ribbons go back to where they belonged, before padding over to the large, human-sized bed she normally slept in. “Wake up the rest of your friends and limp on out of here. I've had a long night."

“This isn't over," Liepard promised, as he stumbled towards an upside-down Electrike closer to the exit. “You can't hog this shelter forever."

“Yeah, yeah," she muttered. “When you come attack me again, do it when I'm not in heat. That way I can do to you what I do to my dragon slave."

Sylveon watched as five Pokemon pulled themselves off the floor, laboriously helping each other beat a slow, agonizing retreat. She preened herself, cat-like, licking her tendrils and using them to wipe the remnants of her dragon friend from her paws and chest. Eventually, she found herself alone, with nothing but the whistling of wind through the ceiling hole to accompany her.

She groaned, curling up into a ball. “Stupid human," she muttered to herself. “Doesn't know what's good for him. And I had such a good spread set out for him, too." Almost mournfully, she looked at the far side of the room, to the collection of cushions that a rogue airborne Scrafty had scattered with his dumb reptile body. “Just great. Now how am I going to deal with the rest of this fucking itch?"

With a heavy sigh, Sylveon extended a tendril to one of the night-stands by the bed. Opening the drawer, she reached inside, blindly wrapping around the first cylindrical thing she found. She pulled up, revealing a modestly sized, bright pink dildo. She paused for a moment, staring up at it with weary eyes.

It was human shaped.

She launched the thing across the room, as hard as she could, with an inarticulate shriek of rage.