Ch. 1
The sordid story of a trainer who really loved his pokemon.
Looking back on it all, I could say I was lucky, from the day I was born. Bright blue eyes viewing the world through curious lenses, always searching, always thinking. A sharp student, and an explorer. It made sense that someday I'd be a trainer. Even if I hadn't realized it at first.
The truth was, It wasn't always my goal. I was a bit odd as a child, I had an endless fascination for martial arts. I loved the old classics. All the old movies. I could recite them from memory. I drew it, I dreamed it, and for the longest time, I studied it. Everything I could. My parents agreed, as many classes as I wanted to take, so long as I kept my grades up. It was to their dismay in the end that I spent more time in dojos than I did anywhere else.
My grades were largely a moot point. I could study at home, alone. But why bother, when I could be having fun training for a tournament instead? Truth is, it was lonely being home. My parents were never around. Always business. Always away. It was martial arts movies and my teachers that really raised me.
But as I hit my teenage years, and began to realize all my childhood friends had drifted away, leaving me alone, mostly, on a quiet street in the back end of nowhere... it sank in like a perfectly delivered ax kick. The boring repetition of it all. The isolation. I felt something I couldn't describe. A yearning. A want. To not be there anymore. To be anywhere else. Everywhere else.
I didn't want to spend my whole life discovering the same things. It was time to go!
The licensing exams are boring things. You get some books, a few extra classes, all the rules and regulations, and some basic "care and keeping" lessons, and then you go and take an exam, and get paired up with your first pokemon. The whole process is stretched out over a year, and you spend a lot of time volunteering at whatever authorized facilities are nearby. Pokemon centers, some breeding ranches, even gyms.
Pokemon centers are boring after a week. I had 51 to go. Still, it wasn't all bad. Once the local nurse figured out I was fine being left to my own devices, she started devoting her attention to the other hopeful trainers-in-training. A year of minimally supervised work in a pokemon center. I got to meet a lot of different kinds of pokemon, hear all kinds of stories about life on the road. Honestly, it was the other trainers who kept me going. I'd thank them, if I could.
A little known secret about the exams is that they're graded. The kid up the street with a pidgey? He's a C student. Pidgeys aren't hard to take care of, mostly they do the work themselves if you let them. They're also not likely to burn down your house.
I say this, because my first partner could. If she wanted to.
The first time I was introduced to my fennekin, she kicked her way out of the arms of the caretaker, dodged two attempts to restrain her, vaulted from floor to chair to counter and into my arms, showering me with licks and nuzzling as though to say "It's about time!"
They thought it was amazing. Really, she just knew I'd been picking sitrus berries. Still, it got her to get to know me from the start. As soon as we were out of earshot, I coughed up the goods and got to know her a bit.
We didn't set out for several weeks. Something I don't tell a lot of people. Our first couple of months, I trained her, and bathed her, and groomed her, and held her in my sleep. I let her get to know my voice, my touch, my scent, and my tempo... because I wanted to know the same about her.
The first fight we got into, she was nervous, but I'd told her what to expect, again and again. Taught her to anticipate, to dodge. To strike. That C student pidgey must have found it so frustrating. Couldn't land a solid hit. Good effort, pidgey.
I didn't name her. For a long time, I didn't. Didn't seem right to. I didn't know her well enough to say. Truth is, it might have been a different name, if not for one night by the sea.
We'd left in the early part of spring, but the real story starts in the height of summer. We'd been on the road for months, just her and I. I refused to catch anything, until I was absolutely sure of her bond with me. So it was nights under the stars together, training together, eating together, napping in the flowers together. It became that I couldn't imagine a day starting or ending without her in my arms.
We'd taken the day to ourselves, instead of wearing a new rut in the roads, and enjoyed the beach. She loved digging in the sand, and even took to swimming, once she was convinced I wouldn't take my eyes off her. It was fun for me, reminiscent of a time I spent while my parents were home from business for once. But I wasn't quite the little kid I had been back then. In addition to the sun and sand, I noticed quite a few other things, and was looking forward to getting some time alone.
I'd rented a room by the beach, a pretty high-rise hotel with the most amazing views, even from the low floors. We'd been doing pretty well, but not quite that well. Mom had to send me a little bit to cover the difference. Of course, mom being mom, it was a room, plus dinner, if I'd just call her from the road in the morning. Fair trade, right? You say that, but she could talk the ear off of a phanpy.
It wasn't a grand room, a few floors off of the busy boulevard, comfortable, quiet. A little unusual for us, we usually camped out. Free and easy enough. As she looked around the room, I stripped down, packing my laundry to deal with in the morning. She sat on the bed, and watched as I set her pokeball up by the dresser, before I headed for the shower. She rarely saw one in my hand, and almost never was put in one, so she was understandably anxious as I called her to follow. The shower was pleasant, but not a degree above warm. I'd barely dried her off when she evaded my touch and leapt up to the bed, curling up and staring at me. She didn't make a sound, didn't need to.
I wanted some time alone, but I decided I could wait for her to fall asleep. I guess I was a sucker for her violet eyes. She didn't want to be apart, and I was okay with that. Mostly.
So I lay there, one hand idly stroking her back, the other pointedly held at my side, trying to ignore the throbbing need beneath the blanket. It was annoying, I just wanted to go deal with it so I could get some sleep.
She was staring at me, the dim light through the window, pale glow from the moon above, a few pinks and purples from nearby signs, all illuminating her, as she tilted her head to and fro. She pushed her nose into my hip, and squirmed against my hand, her bushy tail swaying idly, until my fingers ran through the fur, stilling it with a smile.
She sniffed, first at my hand, then at the blankets before hopping atop me, the weight of her on my chest was usually a comfort, but tonight, her warmth just made me want a very different kind of comfort. A thought I tried rather vainly to push out of my mind.
I ran my hands over her, and she let out a sigh I'd never heard before, a breathy, low tone for her, and rolled onto her back. So I indulged her, scratched her belly, and held her close for a while.
I'd almost drifted off, when my hand slipped lower, brushing against warmth, and moisture. Opening an eye, I saw her regarding me, top of her head against my chest, rendering her expression upside down in my vision. She let out another breathy sigh and, to my surprise... pushed back against my hand.
If you asked me now, I couldn't tell you why I did it. Everything about it just felt right. My fingertips brushed against her by accident the first time, but after that she invited it, and I wanted it too. So I toyed with her, that hot, puffy ring between my fingers, soft flesh rolling beneath my touch, her whimpering noises, hot breath against my neck, tail swaying. Tantalizingly close, and yet so far away. The blanket between us preventing me from feeling that soft fur tickling my skin...
That didn't last long, one good kick and the cool air mingled with the warmth of her body, and it felt every bit as good as I had imagined when her tail brushed over me, like a teasing lover's touch.
She didn't object, when I pushed a finger into her. She just writhed and whined and laid still while I penetrated her. I was careful, gentle. It was new to her, to us both, really. She was so small, I was worried at first, but as I teased and rubbed her, inside and out, there was no hiding how good it made her feel. She gushed that truth over her tail, and my stomach. She laid there, panting in the aftermath, a curious expression on her face as I licked the finger that had just been inside her.
It was too much for me, her taste was a little spicy, and a little tart, and before she'd had a chance to catch her breath, I'd scooped her up, to lay her on the bed, my tongue diving into that pure, gentle warmth with a passion that I think surprised both of us. She offered no resistance at all, her silky soft tail swaying across my chest as I brought her to climax a second time, and a third, tongue buried deep inside her, hands pulling her into every motion, I loved her scent, and her taste.
All good things must come to an end though, and as I let her lay there on the bed, I began to stroke myself, running my tip over her hot little pussy again, and again. She squirmed and watched, but I wasn't fool enough to do it. She was too small, and I dare not hurt her.
But I still wanted that sweet little cunt full of my seed. So as she watched, I brought myself to climax, and pushed just the very tip of it to part her walls, spraying it into her with a long, low moan.
As I sat back, admiring my handiwork, she got up at last, and, on shaking, trembling legs more than returned the favor with her tongue. I couldn't say how much time passed, with her pleasing me with her mouth, but she took a second load that night, and didn't hesitate at all to swallow every last drop.
She was a mind-reader. A clairvoyant. I needed exactly what she gave me. Maybe she needed it too. It suited what she was that night... and what she would become. It was right. Felt as right as everything else we'd done. I named her that night, Claire. She didn't even feign surprise, just curled up against me, her head resting in my lap, and drifted off, my cum slowly leaking out of her beautiful pussy.
I awoke the following morning to her tongue slipping over me. I watched her for a little bit before reaching up to caress her side, she'd been so involved in it that the touch startled her, but after she jumped, and faced me, she just tilted her head, tail swaying slowly as she turned back to what she'd been doing.
My hand idly joined in, stroking myself while her hot, wet tongue slid across every bit left uncovered, and I didn't hesitate to give her a morning treat, my release splashing across her muzzle before she opened wide to sink down around my spasming cock, lapping at her reward with a single-minded passion.
As intense as my climax had been, she had no intention of letting me off the hook, and with a few dainty steps backward, she sat herself down mostly on my face, my nose more or less buried in the soft, warm flesh of her feminine entry.
It would be hard to describe just how she smelled, spice, and tart, and earthy, and mild, and utterly right. I didn't care that the last thing in her had been my climax the night before. I wanted her just as much.
From where she was, I could give her a deeper touch, my tongue working firm, slow circles inside her. She whined, half protest, half desperate need as she pushed back harder, her paws at my chest bracing her for my attention.
They say a trainer never forgets his first partner's evolution, but I don't think they meant it the way Claire's happened.
She came, and I felt her weight shift, warmth touching me beyond her size, all I could see was her tail, and ass, my tongue still buried inside her clutching depths as she sprayed her release over my face, and the bedding.
Truth was, I wasn't fully aware of what just happened until I felt her take me in her mouth, while still riding my face. There we were, perhaps the single most profound moment for any trainer, ever... and that's what I'm going to remember.
After a few moments, she finally managed to pull herself together enough to turn around, and I got my first good look at her. I can't begin to explain how beautiful she was, in that particular moment. It was magical. Her violet eyes looking down at me, a quiet little whimper from her new voice, timid, unsure, and filled with yearning as she backed herself against me, our first time, our very first time completing one another that way.
I was still too big for her, though to less worrying degree. Still, she winced and whimpered as she felt me penetrate her for the very first time. That hard, insistent pressure against her innermost depths, pushing her walls apart, but she brushed off my attempt to pull her up, and leaned in, her paws on my chest, tail swaying as she rocked and bounced against me.
My hands began roaming her body, exploring her, learning her all over again. Teasing at the subtle swell of feminine flesh hidden beneath her fur, nipples slipping beneath my fingertips, three beautiful sets of breasts concealed beneath silk soft fur.
She let out a breathy moan as I took her nipples between my fingers, tugging firmly against them as I pushed up into her vice-tight little pussy, and met my gaze, her eyes searching mine for a long moment before she took my hands, and squeezed them tight against her breasts, a trembling orgasm sweeping through her as I took her hint and tugged and squeezed and fondled and fucked her.
She almost fell back, so I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest, holding her still as I pistoned up into her. She whimpered and whined, ears flat against her head as I took her, hard and deep, her clenching cunt locked tight around my dick, dribbling down over my bare skin to the sheets beneath us as I plowed her.
I wasn't going to last, and she knew it, claws digging into my skin as I arched and moaned. She clamped down around me, so tight inside her I almost couldn't release. Almost.
When I did, she whined again and looked away, hot, wet flood running over both of us.
Part of me wondered how the cleaners would take that. Most of me just wanted to pop again, right then and there.
We held each other, panting, breathless, sated, and I whispered gently to her, kissing the top of her head, three fateful words that would bind her to me for the rest of our lives.
"I love you."
Her stammered response started twice, faltered and fell silent as she looked into my eyes. Finally, she found what she really wanted to tell me, and silently nuzzled into my neck, content to hold me, and be held by me for some time.
I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, it was the middle of the afternoon when I finally scooped her up, carrying her to the shower. She looked up at me as I turned on the water, and put her hand in mine. Dainty little digits clinging to mine, those lovely violet eyes staring up at me as I sat on the edge of the tub. A certain sense of hesitation, perhaps? Uncertainty? I didn’t know what to say, so I simply gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, before leading her into the water, sharing warmth, tenderness, soap.
It was a lovely way to enjoy a late start to the day, and one I would find we often repeated, at least in spirit, if not in luxury.