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"Hey _L_ardent! Gonna get seconds at lunch again?" called a Charmander from across the room. His insult was directed towards a particularly pudgy Drilbur in his English class. No more than a few seconds passed before the Leavanny teacher slipped by and swatted said Charmander across the back of the head with the hard-cover book they were studying--The Great Gastly.

"Jerry, behave!" she clacked out through her mandibles, and continued narrating from the book. The outburst seemed unprovoked, though in his hands the Charmander held the crumpled remains of a rather crude note directed at him from the Drilbur. Finally some sort of response, thought Jerry, having been waiting for the big boned male to fight back, or do anything other than take his insults passively.

The ground-type himself seemed rather apathetic of it all. Sure, the insults hurt, but they were just words, right? And his mommy said before enrolling him into the boarding school: "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you." He nodded to himself, thinking on that sage advice while doodling a picture in his notebook.

A few more minutes passed in the classroom, students becoming more and more riled as lunch approached. Finally, when it seemed as if everyone in the classroom was squirming in their seat, from the young Growlithe girl in the corner to the new transfer student in the midst of a Luxio, Houndour and Zangoose. They all seemed to be whispering to each other, perhaps making plans for lunch. The lone Drilbur didn't seem to care--whenever lunch came around he'd grab his two helpings and find an empty table to sit at, nobody would bother him, except that Charmander.

He had to suppress a chuckle, thinking about how upset that fire-type got when the boy read his note. It contained more than a few choice words for that bully. Ardent didn't feel a lick of shame from writing such a thing either--after all, words couldn't hurt. Already he was thinking what next he could scribble out to Jerry, not quite yet sure what he wanted to say, but obviously something to pick on the pudgy Char' like he was picked on.

Jammy? Jumbo? Jeronimo? None sounded too insulting like _L_ardent did. If there was one thing that bully did right, it was his rude puns. Ardent tapped his claws atop the desk, making somewhat loud clacks that were drowned out to the drone of his classmates around him. His stomach growled, was it almost lunch time yet?

Just as he looked at the clock, the bell rang, and in what seemed like an instant, half the students had vacated the classroom, that Charmander with them. The Drilbur slipped his things into his backpack, zipping it up and flinging it over one shoulder, unable to get it completely across his back. Today's special was the lasagna, and though hardly anyone else chose it, he still wanted to get there early and grab a good, cheesy slice.

Filing into the line, the ground-type stood, waiting for it to move forward. Something wet smacked into the side of his neck, and he brought his claws up to it, pulling it out of his fur. Spitwad. He glared over to the table that had shot it, seated there was a Houndour and Jerry. Jerry was looking away, badly. His eyes kept flicking back over at the Drilbur, and when he saw Ardent looking he gave a smile to his buddies. In his hand was the straw used to launch the spitwad.

The mole shrugged it off, continuing to advance in line even as a few more of those spit-wet balls of paper smacked into his neck. Just ignore them, and get your food, he repeated in his mind, focusing on just that, getting his food and eating it. His belly rumbled once more, and as soon as he was inside the pit, as the students called it, he headed towards the special section, and picked up his double-serving of lasagna.

It was far enough into the school year that most everybody had their own little clique they belonged to, and an area in the cafeteria that they had claimed as their own. Technically speaking, Ardent was a part of the "outcast" group, which also included a meekly Swoobat boy, a nerdy Patrat, and a cripplingly shy Swadloon. It seemed as if only the Swoobat was sitting in their cordoned corner, picking at his chicken nuggets disinterestedly, taking a bite or two before setting them down with a quiet sigh.

That bat was quite thin despite being fully evolved, thought Ardent, though he personally had no problem with keeping meat to his bones, as he so thought. The mole set his tray down with a clatter which startled the other member of his table, who turned to look with a pale face.

"O-oh, hey Ardent..." he said softly, picking up a fry and giving it a nibble, flexing his nose up a bit at the taste. The school, in its attempt to go healthy had started to cut back on that vital sodium it needed to make their lack-luster meals taste decent. The very least he could do was stir around it in some ketchup and completely soak the already soggy fries under condiments.

"Heff," replied the mole, his mouth already full of that cheesy-meaty lasagna, almost shoveling it into his large, hungry maw. It really hit the spot, he thought, and soon he was already done with that first serving, with the Swoobat hardly even taking another bite of his nuggets. "Are you gonna--" he burped, "finish that, Stew?" The bat's full name was actually Stewart, but the ground-type never called him by that, and neither did rest of the group. They called him Stew, not only because it matched his name, but also due to the fact that he made and brought stew for lunch for an entire year before finally gaining the courage to actually enter the lunch line.

"N-no... you can have it," muttered the meek Swoobat in reply, sliding his plate over. He caved easily to pressure, even if Ardent hadn't intended it. The Drilbur had already started to pick off a few fries, dipping them into his lasagna drippings and bringing them up to his mouth, taking a bite before Stewart suddenly stood up. "I gotta go!" he said quickly, intending it to be a shout though it came more as a whisper. With just those words, he darted around the corner, disappearing to who-knows-wear, probably the library or dormitories.

"Bye..." said Ardent, his mouth still full of food as he watched the psychic dart off with surprising speed for having hardly any muscle (or fat) on his bones. Just as the mole returned his eyes to his plate, he found it rapidly ascending to his face and smacking into it with a clatter. His white-furred muzzle turned red, both from embarrassment and the staining sauce of the lasagna. He stood up, whirling around and came face to face with those trouble-makers he intentionally sat the length of the cafeteria from.

"You need a bib, _L_ardent?" smirked the Charmander of the lot, the younger Houndour he was with giving a barking, hyena-like laugh. With his shirt untucked and hands half in his pockets, Jerry was the perfect caricature of a delinquent, and he was even chewing onto the spent stick of a lolly to complete the act.

"Fuck you, Jumbo," Ardent said, before even realizing the words had left his mouth. "I mean--"

"Oh, fatty's got some bite to him, does he?" spat back Jerry, pushing Ardent at his shoulders with enough force to send the mole stumbling over his chair and onto the table. "Or is he all bark, Jeremy?"

The younger Houndour got the hint, moving up and holding down the ground-type's right arm, while another of that bully-gang pushed Ardent's other arm to the table.

"Ever heard of red belly, big boy?" asked the Charmander, bringing his hand up and giving it a flex, hovering it over the Drilbur's stomach. Ardent's button-up shirt seemed to strain from the unusual position, stretched to the very limit as the boy tried to break out of that 'mon's grip. "Lemme show you how it's played..." chuckled Jerry, starting to raise his arm up high.

"Stop it!" yelled the mole, only attracting the attention of the surrounding tables in the dull roar of the cafeteria, not a teacher or hall monitor in sight.

"Red belly!" yelled the Charmander, swinging his arm down from its raised position above his head and onto that Drilbur's stomach, giving it a loud, full-contact smack. The mole's chub jiggled like jelly. Undoubtedly beneath Ardent's dark fur was a deep red imprint of the Charmander's powerful paw. He gasped for air, having most of the wind knocked out of him from that glancing blow to his solar plexus, eyes starting to water up. Words may never hurt me, but a full-force slap to the stomach was more than just some stupid words.

"Arrrhhh!" he yelled out, flexing his arms and managing to dislodge the young Houndour's grip before reaching over with that freed arm to punch the other critter--his species he couldn't tell, in the face. That male recoiled back with a loud groan, running off to the bathroom with a runny nose, while Jeremy was almost thrown backwards, and upon spotting a teacher make their way over to the scene, decided to also flee. "Not so tough without your gang, huh?" asked Ardent, curling his hand into a fist and punching the Charmander right in his face, not quite busting the scaled boy's nose.

Jerry reared back, clutching his face with a hiss. It stung badly, though thankfully didn't bleed across his mouth and lips like the other boy's had. "You call that a hit? My grandma can hit harder than your wimpy blows, fatso!" he spat, rubbing his nose one last time before bringing his hands up in a fighting stance.

"Only 'cause it was softened by your fat face," Ardent shot back, glaring and attempting to throw another punch, before having finding it held back by the principal. Across from him, Jerry too was being restrained by that crotchety Watchog, pulling the fire-type away.

"I think you two need to see me in my office," the principal said with a low voice, the cafeteria having gone (mostly) silent as students watched the "arrest". A few whispers darted back and forth between rumor-hungry ears, but as soon as the Watchog and Arcanine were out of sight, the usual roar of voices returned.

Andrew sat the Drilbur down in one of those plush chairs before his desk, the Watchog doing the same to Jerry in the one opposite. "Thank you Wallace, you can go now," said he, and the hall monitor slipped out, undoubtedly to look for other troublemakers in the cafeteria or halls. "Now then, why don't you tell me what this is all about, Ardent."

"Hey! Don't I get a say?" interjected the Charmander. He had a big frown on his face, and a slightly swollen cheek from the Drilbur's hit.

"I'll give you your turn in a moment, but my teachers have already told me that you're the instigator here."

"Insta... what?"

"You started it," replied Andrew flatly. "Now be quiet so Ardent can talk--interrupt and I'll be sure to lean my punishment more on you. Ardent?"

The Drilbur shifted in his seat a bit. "I dunno what happened, mister Motzer," he started. "I guess I just snapped or somthin', after Jerry smacked me in the belly and all."

"Snapped?" asked the Arcanine. "Could you tell me a little bit more on how Jerry treats you?" Andrew shifted his gaze over towards the Charmander to examine him. The boy's shirt remained untucked, though that sucker-stem seemed absent from his lips. Looking down, the boy's shoes were scuffed up and unpolished, with his slacks sitting unevenly over them.

"Yeah. Jerry's been calling me names for a while now..." the Drilbur admitted, looking away and to the left, feeling ashamed from tattling. He felt as if it was his problem that he needed to deal with himself, not tell a grown-up about it. The principal focused a bit harder on the way the Charmander fidgeted. His face seemed a bit red, and not just from the punch given to it. Ardent paused, seeing the Arcanine's finger go up, and his head turn towards the Charmander.

"Do you deny this, Jerry?" asked the principal, who was denied a lunch due to those two trouble-causing students.

"No sir..." replied the pudgy fire-lizard in response, looking down at the floor.

With that finger now down, Ardent continued his story. "Anyway, today at lunch he tossed my food onto my face and then gave me a red belly." The Drilbur unbuttoned his shirt, trying to prove that his stomach had been slapped, but the red fur covering it made it difficult to even discern the color of his flesh, let alone any change in that.

Judging by the expression on the Charmander's face, the Arcanine judged that to be true as well. Though there was something off-putting about his expression that made Andrew thing that he was missing something. He let that feeling rest in the back of his mind as Ardent continued the story.

"An' then I... I beat up his gang and punched Jerry in the face..." mumbled a bit softer the Drilbur, as if embarrassed for fighting back.

"Now Ardent, just because we don't have a zero-tolerance policy for violence doesn't mean that it can solve all your problems," began the Arcanine in lecture. "Sure, fighting your bully may seem like solving your problems, but he's just going to come back more vengeful now that he knows you're a threat. It'd be much better to talk to us, and we'll make sure that Jerry is perfectly punished for his actions, rather than punish him yourself."

Andrew cleared his throat, turning in his office chair to face the Charmander. "And for you, young man," he began, watching the boy fidget in his seat. "I think you owe Ardent an apology for bullying him."

"But he punched me!" came the indignant reply, a big frown furrowed on the fire-type's face.

"He was well within his rights to do that from your earlier actions, though I will be sure to punish him as well as you. Violence is unacceptable between students."

"H-huh?" said Ardent, surprised he was getting in trouble for defending himself.

"That's the rules, and I won't make an exception," replied the Arcanine, before returning his attention to the Charmander. "So apologize."

With a scowl etched on his face, Jerry muttered out a quick, spiteful "I'm sorry", and turned his head away. The tip of his nose seemed a bit red, possibly from the punch.

"Good. Now strip," ordered the principal suddenly, causing the Charmander's head to whip towards the Arcanine incredulously.

"W-what!?" he gasped back, jaw dropping.

"I said strip. Since you saw fit to insult Ardent for his weight, you're going to have to be punished in a similar way, by having your clothing removed and judged without it.

"He insulted me too!" came the indignant reply, and the Arcanine turned his head to Ardent, who was looking away guiltily.

"Then you need to strip too, Ardent. Fair is fair."

The Drilbur grumbled to himself, stepping off the chair and undoing his button-up fully, slipping it off his chest, and waiting for the Charmander to do the same. He should have just kept quiet and taken it, thought the Drilbur bitterly, curling his long nose up a bit and crinkling the top half.

"Everything. Both of you," continued the Arcanine, adjusting his seat from behind his desk, spreading his legs a bit so he could allow himself to enjoy the oncoming scene. His hands rested flatly across the surface of his desk, unsure who to watch undress. He satisfied himself with the chubby Charmander, who had already slipped out of his shoes and socks, pulling off his pants and leaving himself in underwear and his shirt. Funny how one took off his top and the other the opposite--they were two sides of a coin. "Do I need to repeat myself?" asked the principal, his voice deepening.

"Yes sir," said them in tandem, giving a glare over at each other for "copying". The Charmander slipped out of his shirt, while the Drilbur removed his pants, both still in their tighty-whities. Just based on the size of their bulges, the Charmander was a bit more endowed, though that could have been just how he "packed" it. Neither seemed too keen to undress fully, until the Arcanine held up his fingers.

"Three... two..." he began, folding down one for each count. That made forced them into quick action, both 'mon pulling down their undies and revealing their young, flaccid dicks to the principal, each trying not to stare at the other. Well, one only not looking, as it seemed the Charmander was flicking glances over towards the chubby Drilbur standing next to him. "Good. Now turn and look at each other," ordered Motzer, watching carefully each male's eyes.

The Charmander turned first, his vision straying from the Drilbur's chest to belly, before dipping down between his legs. As the ground-type turned, he made certain to flick his eyes back up, though the damage was done and his member started to stir slightly. On the other hand, the Drilbur seemed disinterested at his tormenter's body.

"Why do we have to do this, mister Motzer?" asked Ardent, feeling uneasy under that somewhat predatory stare the Charmander--and Arcanine, had. He slipped his paws in front of his crotch, which the Charmander mirrored though for a different reason. The Drilbur may have been shy, but that fire-lizard definitely did not want his arousal shown.

"A couple of reasons, Ardent. Jerry's nude because his words stripped you of your power. When you called him names back, you stripped him of power, so that's why you are also nude. Another reason is... well, Jerry, why don't you tell him how you feel, hm?"

"E-eh?" the fire-lizard responded, taking a step back, though his hands still covered his groin from prying Arcanine and Ardent eyes. "I don't feel anything for him!" he stated, once his brain recognized the question, though it was plagued with a shaky stutter.

"Ardent, please move Jerry's hands," he said to the Drilbur, who obediently stepped forward (with his own hands in use covering his groin) before extending them away and towards the Charmander, pulling aside his hands by the wrist. Between the fire-type's plump thighs, a thick erection pulsed, with just a tiny drop of precum at the very tip.

Jerry tugged and pulled against that grip, but the ground-type seemed to be too strong for him to break free. "Lemme go!" he whined, though through his struggling the fire-type's nose and face seemed to get redder and redder, and his arousal twitched. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"If you won't admit it, then I'll say it," said the Arcanine flatly. "Jerry has a crush on you, Ardent."

Shocked, the Drilbur loosened his grip enough for the Charmander to break free and hide his boner behind the chair he had been sitting in earlier. His face was bright red now, and the once powerful bully seemed as meek as a certain Swoobat the ground-type knew.

"S-shut up," mumbled out the fire-lizard, though with his head drooping it was clear that it was true.

"No more false pretenses," Andrew said, clasping his hands together. "Now we have to make you two make up," he began, standing up from his chair with a quick sweep of his paw over his groin that neither saw, readjusting himself to keep his own arousal hidden. The principal circled his desk, picking up the Charmander by his shoulders and leading him back into the open. "Jerry, you want to apologize to Ardent, correct?"

The Charmander didn't reply.

"And Ardent, you will accept the Charmander's apology if he's sincere?"

"Uhh..." came the slow reply from the chubby Drilbur.

As he spoke, the Arcanine was pushing the fire-type into position, just a foot away from the Drilbur. The lizard's face seemed as orange as a Charmeleon's though a moment later he was pushed down to belly level with the ground-type, and his expression turned as red as it could be. He thumped his tail on the ground, pushing back up against the principal's sturdy grip to no avail.

"Here's your chance to apologize," said Andrew, and pushed forward the Charmander's red nose between Ardent's thighs, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"W-wait!" he said, before feeling a pair of soft lips whisper sorry right against his flaccid, uncut member's shaft. They tickled slightly, feeling smooth and warm. Though he didn't want it, his length started to twitch and peak upwards, bobbing beneath the Charmander's chin. "Ugh... I accept your apology..." he mumbled, just wanting the entire thing to be over. It wouldn't be. Not for a long while.

Motzer tapped the back of the Charmander's head, who opened his mouth and pulled backwards, seeming to know already what to do, or having fantasized about it before. Taking the half-hard head of that uncut peen into his mouth, the fire-type suckled upon it and moved himself to the base of the chubby mole's length. He engulfed that tool with his wet, heated maw, starting to suck and drool on it a little bit.

"S-stop it! I said I accept your apology!" said Ardent, his body reacting in the opposite manner, growing harder and drippier than the Charmander's own hanging member. When that hot tongue swiped past his tip, he gave out a shuddering moan, closing his eyes and shaking his head, trying to regain his thoughts. "Mister Motzer! Make him stop!" he whined, but swallowed hard when he saw that not only was the Arcanine unwilling to help, but was also encouraging the fire-type to suck his peen by pushing on the back of his head ever so often. Slowly, the Drilbur stumbled backwards against the wall, resting his arms and shoulders against it.

"Nffh," moaned the Charmander, finally getting to enjoy the taste of the boy he bullied and lusted after. He had been waiting so long to get sent to the principal's office with him, hearing rumors about the Arcanine's unorthodox punishments, and having first-hand experience. Feeling his head pushed forward again, the fire-lizard extended his long, wet tongue from his lips, slipping it down and underneath the Drilbur's sack, tasting his salty sweat there. He yearned badly to reach between his legs and stroke himself off, knowing that he'd almost never get another chance like this, but as he moved his hand there he felt the principal flick the back of his head in retaliation. Not yet.

"Much better, Jerry. Isn't it nicer to be with friends with people than to bully them?" asked Andrew, intent on making a lesson out of the Charmander's whoring. He got a muffled, positive, response in return, followed by a strong gulping sound as the male swallowed that accumulating precum and saliva. Finally, he pulled back, letting that member rest on his nose, glistening with spit. It was fully erect, and nearly the same size as the Charmander's own, though the fire-type was cut.

With that length now free from his mouth, the Charmander breathed in deeply, regaining his breath. "Y-yes sir..." he muttered in response, unsure what had come over him, now feeling incredibly self-conscious in his nudity. "I--"

He was cut off by the Arcanine pulling him backwards, and turning the Drilbur around with a single, strong arm. The male's plump, chubby bottom rested head-height, with the mole's stubby tail just above his cheeks.

"You've called him fatass too, haven't you?" rumbled the Arcanine with a dark smile, unseen to either student. "I think you ought to apologize to it too," he said, before pushing the Charmander's face forward between those cheeks, forcing him to nose past the chubby bottom and push his lips against the male's ring. It tasted much like how the Drilbur's undersack had tasted, sweaty and salty, though the slight earthy tang of his musk was much stronger.

Jerry could hardly imagine it, but he found himself starting to kiss and slobber that pucker just as he did to the Drilbur's member not a moment before. He drooled all over that fat hole, huffing pathetically as his tongue dribbled saliva and smeared it all across the ground-type's entrance. His thick-based Charmander-tail wagged back and forth rapidly, barely able to contain itself as he frenched the other boy's asshole.

Andrew pushed the lizard's head harder against that Drilbur's bottom, holding him tightly there for just a few more moments before finally letting up. The Charmander pulled back with a deep breath, his lips saturated with the earthy taste of Ardent's musk. It made his muzzle-lips tingle with excitement, and looking down between the ground-type's thick thighs he could see that boy's taut sack hang temptingly. He was forced this far--why not continue just a little more, thought the fire-type, reaching his hand up and giving a soft stroke to the other boy's sack.

That Drilbur only gave a slight gasp in response, instinctually adjusting his legs as that hand slipped between them, rubbing and lightly tugging at the his testes. Jerry's hand was warm, no doubt about that, and his smooth scales felt strangely on the silky-furred sack. Lowering his head forward, Ardent bumped it against the wall, letting out a soft groan from his lips, before feeling an Arcanine's paw on his shoulder and that hand below him to leave.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself a bit, Ardent," said the principal, staring blatantly at the boy's twitchy erection, it having pushed through the foreskin that normally bunched over the tip. "But we mustn't forget that both of you are at fault here, so now it's time to apologize to your classmate."

"B-but--" stuttered out the Drilbur, before feeling himself pushed to his knees and forced to kiss the chubby Charmander on his scaly stomach, with that fire-type's dick poking against his neck and leaving a drop of precum.

"No buts, until it's time for you to kiss his, of course," the Arcanine chuckled back, pushing hard down on the Drilbur's head, forcing him down until the mole's lips brushed against the Charmander's shaft, giving it a few light kisses. That cut piece seemed strange to the unknowledgeable student, though a few parts were still familiar. He knew that he was supposed to lick it too, and so he slid out his tongue and swiped it across the tip of the Charmander's member, before being pushed half-way down it with a gag.

The little amount of precum dribbled by fire-type was incredibly spicy and burnt his tongue, though the Drilbur had no choice but to swallow it with a few tears in his eyes. Of course, that swallowing action only lead to the Charmander leaking more precum, Ardent's breathing growing faster and faster until he struggled enough to pull back and take a deep breath of cooler air, trying to fan the heat on his tongue. So focused on that endeavor, he hardly noticed the Charmander's body being moved and positioned over a chair with his tail swung up over his back.

"W-wait," huffed out the Drilbur boy, only to find himself pushed forward once more against his will, his nose shoved up that Charmander's scaly, sweaty crack. That 'mon had a rich, reptilian musk to him, amplified by his sweat. As the Arcanine held him steady, the Drilbur came slowly to terms with the idea that he'd have to kiss and smooch at that male's sweaty rear for his freedom. Closing his eyes, the mole extended his tongue shakily, before slipping it up the Charmander's slightly puffy, orange taint and gave a single lick from the base of his sack to the underside of that tail.

That rich taste of salty sweat, mixed with those scale's natural spice created an interesting flavor combination, though Ardent was in no position to begin to enjoy it. The scent assaulted his nostrils, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, while drool dribbled free from his lips. He refused to swallow, though that just made his rimming even messier, and soon the Charmander's scaled bottom was dripping with spit. That warm saliva just rolled down Jerry's legs, causing him to shiver and groan out loud. His legs trembled, feeling weak.

"There... now you two are all made up and friends, right?" said Andrew with a slight smirk on his face, releasing his pressing grip on the Drilbur's head. He moved himself towards his cabinet of disciplinary tools, unlocking with a single twist of a key and opening it. That swinging door concealed what was inside from the two boys' prying eyes, Ardent now standing up and backing away from the Charmander, spitting a bit and grabbing for his clothing. As he took hold of his pants, the sound of rubber bouncing on a wooden desk caught his attention, and a myriad of clear, multicolored tapered cylinders caught his eye.

"Mister Motzer...?" he asked, starting to slip on undies. They were hard to lift over his erection, so he left it hanging out. "What are those for?"

The Arcanine turned to face his questioner, frowning when he spotted those undies back on the mole. "You two have apologized to each other, but that doesn't mean that Jerry won't stop bullying you. So I'm going to do something to get you two closer," he said. "So take off those underwear, because I'm not done with you yet."

Ardent frowned, slowly sliding down his undies again. At least the principal wasn't watching him this time, but that Charmander was, and that made him frown. What was mister Motzer going to do to make them closer? He didn't want to be friends with Jerry! These thoughts circulated around the nude Drilbur's head before he gave a loud sigh and sat down in his chair, looking back at the Arcanine. He was applying some sort of clear stuff to those colorful tubes, and it stuck to his paws, looking really stringy. What could they be for? The answer came a few minutes later.

"Lie on your back," ordered Andrew to Ardent, who frowned, but complied. He felt exposed and vulnerable like this, knowing for sure that the Arcanine was punishing him for putting on undies before he said okay. In his thoughts, he missed Motzer's second sentence, and grunted out in surprise when Jerry lied atop of him, face just a half-foot away from his own.

"H-hey!" he said indignantly, trying to squirm, but the Charmander was just about as heavy as he was, and the chubby boy found himself pinned. "What's the big idea?" he asked, giving a frown.

"Just making you two closer," said the Arcanine, having said those words earlier with a very literal meaning. In his hand he had a long, solid, blue tube with slight bumps at the top and bottom. It seemed to be flexible, at the very least, having drooped down to the side by gravity. From both ends, a clear, sticky-looking fluid dripped. "Now then, Jerry, lift up your tail," he ordered.

The Charmander obeyed--he knew what that device was for, having seen it used once before when he was brought into the Principal's office along with a few others of his bullying group. His tail lifted high, curving backwards and nearly touching his back with that hot flame. He bit his lower lip, wanting to keep out from yelping like he did the first time, though he had a feeling that it'd be futile.

With one of the wet, blue tips of his double-ended dildo, the Arcanine inserted it first into the scaled boy, listening closely for his unique little gasp, which he did not disappoint. Jerry squeaked out and squirmed a bit atop of Ardent--that lubricant was damn cold for his hot, fire type hole! He continued to squirm and wiggle as it was inserted a few more inches, finally huffing his heated breath against the Drilbur's face once it stopped moving, who scowled in return.

"S-sorry Ardent... you'll understand in a sec..." he apologized, closing his eyes and trying to relax, though having his member pressed up against the chubby mole's own was not helping in the slightest. He felt himself leak slowly onto that foreskinned prick, and soaking the ground-type's groin with his precum.

"Understand whaaaa-!" replied the Drilbur, only to find words escape him as that thick, opaque-blue cockhead intruded into his spit-wet pucker. The lubricant aided its entrance, sinking a good five inches or so into his pucker and becoming stuck from an unintentional clench. The two boys were connected now, whether they liked it or not--and only one could say that he liked it.

Jerry gave out a little huff, feeling his tailhole flex and twitch around that intruded dildo, barely able to move any part of his body without causing that blue thing to swish about his insides and cause a jolt of pleasure through him. He placed his hands on the ground, both sides of Ardent's head and lifted himself up just a bit, allowing the boy beneath some air, and for his own peen to be free enough to jerkily twitch next to the mole's. It was obvious that the principal had found out about his secret crush on Ardent though to do this was just pure torture! The Charmander gave a little groan, feeling the Arcanine behind him, pushing that dildo a little bit deeper into his pucker until it was snug and secure.

"Hopefully you two feel a little bit closer to each other now than before," he said with a smile, giving a little flick to the double-ended dildo. It seemed to vibrate throughout, causing both of the students to groan out in response. He slipped his hand forward, pressing it between the two chubby bellies and groping around for their members. With a single squeeze, the fire-dog slid his hand backwards, mushing together the two student's lengths and forcing their tips into a lewd, wet kiss. Giving a single twist of his paw, that Arcanine tugged Ardent's foreskin over Jerry's tip, sharing the stretchy protective flesh for a few moments before releasing.

"Nff..." the tubby Drilbur murmured, squirming as best he could, but finding himself pinned beneath that Charmander still. "Haah... stop it..." he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his teeth together. The heat of the Charmander's member against his own, as well as that warm backing by Andrew's hand was over stimulating, to say the least. Not to mention the way Jerry's tip seemed to drool its warm precum right into his foreskin, surrounding that molehood's head with a heated slipperiness.

Principal Motzer had no intention of stopping any time soon, though with the amount of pressure he put between those two shafts with his squeezing strokes would lead to a quick orgasm for both of those punished students. With a careful grip to the exposed mid-section of that double-ended dildo, the Arcanine twisted it back and forward, pushing deeper into one boy while pulling it further from the other, then reversed such a motion.

Two young voices gave a cry out in tandem, and the Arcanine could feel his hand grow wetter from the leaking of their members. The teasing thrusts Andrew made with that double-edged dildo increased in pace, squishing back and forth faster and faster, until his fist smacked against each male's cheeks with the motion causing their bottoms to jiggle just lightly. More and more precum oozed from those frotting lengths, Ardent's uncut producing the majority that saturated the principal's hand.

It was also the Drilbur who gave out first. He writhed beneath Jerry, his eyes squeezed shut and thighs flexing. As the student bit his lower lip, he gave a short, hopeless cry and seized up tightly against that penetrating dildo, clenching down tight upon it as his balls released their small load in a few warm jets onto his bare belly. The mole's face was flushed red with embarrassment, worsened by the hot, panting breath of the Charmander above him.

Not even half a minute after Ardent spilled his load, that Charmander orgasmed as well. Seeing his crush squirm underneath his body and blush bright red from pleasure and closeness was enough to send Jerry right over the edge, and he gasped out hotly, breath washing over the Drilbur's face as his body froze almost completely, the only things moving being that flame atop his tail and those twitches from a spurting length.

They spilled down Andrew's hand, mixing with Ardent's own spunk and landing partially upon the ground-type's stomach, adding to the viscous puddle of goo already there. The principal allowed them just a few moments of rest, breathing atop each other and panting against their faces. Withdrawing his hand, the Arcanine wiped it clean with his tongue, enjoying the spicy mixture of Jerry's seed with the earthy base of Ardent's. Maybe those two trouble-makers would show up in his office again sometime soon. Regardless of his wishes, the principal did have a job to do, and giving a firm, but slow, tug, he removed that double-ended phallus from the students' rear, returning it onto his desk.

"You may stand up and put your clothing back on," he said, wiping his paw with a handkerchief to make absolutely sure it was clean before brushing the front of his suit. Turning around, he placed that double-edged dildo into his "used" drawer for later cleaning, and returned the rest of those toys back to the office cabinet.

Ardent remained on his back, breathing heavily. Not a second after the principal had said those words did Jerry roll off of his front, falling to his left and huffing almost as loud as the mole, though significantly less messy. It was almost unfair, in a way, but right now the ground-type student wanted nothing more than the punishment to be over--Principal Motzer's chastisements were weird!

Inhaling deep, the Drilbur rolled himself forward, shuddering just slightly as that semi-cooled seed rolled down his stomach, staining and saturating the fur on his lower belly. Ardent made a move for his underwear, wiping clean most of that ooze before slipping the pair on, frowning as their slight moistness against the inside of his thighs. Ignoring it as best he could, the Drilbur slipped on his pants and did his shirt, tucking it in and standing in front of the principal's now cleared desk, gulping nervously.

Jerry was just a few steps behind, pulling on his socks and shoes while taking a seat in one of the chairs. Finishing up, the Charmander stood next to the Drilbur, who took a single step to the side away from him while the principal's back was turned. The two students pressed their lips shut, not wanting to get into any more trouble by talking until they were given further permission from the Arcanine. Finally, he spoke.

"Jerry, you have kitchen duty for the next two weeks," declared the principal. "As for you, Ardent, you've got hall clean-up for the same amount of time."

Both of the boys held back their protests. Any word more out of them would be asking for more punishment--perhaps even worse than the one done today, if that was even possible. Andrew stared at the two students in silence for a few moments, waiting for one of them to speak, though the intensity of his gaze made it seem more like he was daring them to. The Drilbur swallowed.

"Ah... uh... are we free to go, Mister Motzer, sir?" he asked quietly, grinding his heel into the ground trying to focus his nervousness out of it and into the floor.

"Yes, you're dismissed," the principal finally said, waving his hand towards the door.

No sooner than he said that did the two dart out, door shutting behind them loudly. Jerry let out a loud sigh of relief, wiping his brow, finding it sweaty.

"Two weeks of kitchen duty? What a pain!" he bemoaned.

"Yeah, well I've got two weeks of cleaning up the halls--and I didn't even do anything!"

"Like hell you did, fatass," the Charmander bickered back.

"You better not spit in my food, fat face."

"What'd you say!?"

Not even a minute after leaving the principal's office were the two up in arms--though, when they came to that usual fork where they separate both Charmander and Drilbur moved in the same direction; even if they were still fighting there was some hope for them yet.

"Lardbutt!"

"Asskisser!"

Or maybe not.