Author: Tobias Foxx

Title: Stones in the Pond

Part: Chapter 3

Universe: Pokemon

Summary: Not everything is gloom and doom in Kyle's life. But a lot of things are.

Keywords: Pokemon, Msolo, Mast, Rom, m/zoo, death

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Prior to reading the story, there is a bit of information that needs to be known. I don't like the world the Pokémon show is based in. It is too happy-go-lucky, the-good-guy-always-wins, all-we-need-is-love, kumbaya sickly sweet. That's not how things work. Sometimes the bad guy wins, sometimes the good guy doesn't get the girl, and sometimes things are just plain screwed up. That's the kind of world that I live in, and that's the kind of world my stories will take place in. This is intended to be a series, so hopefully I'll get some good feedback and will post more :). Also, I've never liked the fact that every single Pokémon comes from an egg, so the ones that deserve live births, aka the mammalian ones, are born live. Also, I figure that the fact that so many kids are out there with no supervision and all, there must be a law or something that makes it so they can basically liberate themselves for the duration of their Pokémon journey, so that's how things work in my world. Other than that, I've tried to match the Pokémon world rather closely, but do bear in mind this is a fanfic, and I've taken a bit of poetic license. Enjoy, and tell me what you think.

I know this one was a long time in coming, but my first through fifth attempts at writing this chapter failed horribly, then my muse deserted me for a while. Luckily, she returned with a heaping helping of awesome!

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Between Right and Wrong

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Not everything about my childhood was pain and peril and mental trauma. Don't get the wrong idea; there were plenty of happy times too.  There were birthday parties and Christmases to celebrate, relatives to visit and friends to meet, and Mom even made a holiday for us to mark the date I rescued Psylash and Darkling. They were some of the best years of my life. Of course, there's about a week during my first year of training that will always stand out brightest. I was ten years old. The puberty bug had bitten me but good, and I had discovered the joys of masturbation. It was about that time that Candi came into her first heat, and my evolved pair decided it was high time to try again for a litter.

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Darkling and Psylash had been acting friskier than usual for at least a week before the day that changed everything. It took only a cursory glance at the Umbreon to recognize the signs and know that she was coming into season. Candi was also exhibiting the symptoms of a female in estrus, but she left Psylash alone. We both knew it wouldn't end well should she make a pass at him. I was surprised, however, when she caught me one day "wankin my willy", and decided to help out.

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I was in the barn out behind the house, laid out on a hay bale. Mom was out in the field, as usual, tending to her charges. We had just finished off an intense training session. I sent Psylash and Darkling off afterwards so they could have some privacy. The mental link he had established with me during our shared nightmare (which had extended to encompass the females as well) let me know exactly what he intended for his mate, and the flush of heat I felt from her let me know she fully intended to let him. Candi radiated frustrated sexual need, a tight knot of tension that set the pit of my stomach ablaze with desire. None of these things did anything to soothe the newly awakened hormones racing through my blood. I was understandably horny.

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So, I had discarded my clothing and tossed myself onto the block of hay, my limbs splayed, one hand clasped loosely around my small shaft. I stroked myself teasingly as I let my mind wander, seeking out a fantasy to revel in while I jerked myself to climax. I had never seen a dirty magazine, at that age, never even thought about girls really. All I knew was Pokémon, and so it was what I thought of. As I felt Psylash and Darkling begin their private rendezvous, I settled on a pair of Houndoom. For some reason, I had always found their penises to be rather exotic, and nowadays exciting. I wondered what it would feel like to have a knot like they did, to be locked with my mate as I filled her with seed and sowed pups in her womb.

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Of course, I wanted to work up to that point, so while I had the completion of my fantasy in mind, I started from the beginning. I was a Houndoom, a strong male with the scent of a female in my nostrils. I could tell she was in heat, ready and willing to mate. I stalked through the brush, seeking out this needful female, following my nose wherever it might lead, my own desire growing stronger with each passing moment. I could feel myself hardening, feel that slick red shaft bouncing against my belly as I neared my future conquest, the spurts of pre that would help ready her for me and ease our mating.

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And then she was there, in front of me. We stood in the center of a clearing, facing each other down, growling softly as we circled. This was her territory, her hunting grounds, her patch of forest. How dare I intrude? As I circled upwind, she finally caught my scent, the aroma of my arousal, as I had hers. Her posture softened, though we continued to circle. Coming to a decision, she paused turning to face me, mouth open, tongue lolling as she dropped her forequarters against the ground, stamping her paws in an invitation to play. Turning she bounded a few yards across the clearing, tail wagging teasingly above her puffy sex, her fluids clear and dripping. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure she had my attention before racing off into the trees.

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I was after her in a heartbeat, blood pounding in my ears as I chased her bobbing tail over streams and under logs, leaf litter kicked up by my paws as I chased hot on her heels. Rattata and Pidgey scattered before us, crying warnings to others, thinking us on the hunt. We were hunting, but not for them. No, we were hunting each other, she testing my skills at pursuit, judging whether I were worthy to sire her pups, I testing her strength and stamina and guile, judging if she were worthy of bearing mine. She circled and swerved, juked and jinked, zigged and zagged, but I kept to her course, not wavering a hair's breadth from the track she laid out, nipping at her tail tip as I closed in.

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Eventually, it ended, as all things must, in a field surrounded by trees. The chase had been invigorating. I felt my blood rushing through my body to touch every part of it, heightening my senses and sensations, my nose, my ears, my paws, my tail, and especially the rock hard rod that hung beneath me. She slowed, and I did as well. She stopped and turned to face me once more, this time with a happy grin and panting tongue rather than growls and snarls. Slowly, she pranced closer until we were nose to nose, snuffling at one another. I moved forward, pressing my chest to hers, nuzzling along her neck, nipping lightly at her scruff as I inhaled her scent, imprinted it indelibly upon my mind. This was my mate, and I hers.

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She mimicked my movements but stood for only scanty introductions. She was well into her heat. She knew what she wanted and wanted it now. Her head ducked beneath me as she pressed forward, dragging her side pleasurably against my own. Warm breath puffed across my pointed tip as she sniffed delicately at my shaft. I hissed in air when a sudden warmth lapped against the underside of my member, and again, and again, as she tasted me. Her tongue continued towards my base and the tender ball of flesh found there as my nose was drawn downwards to the space between her own legs.

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I could see how ready she was now, up close and personal. Her canine vulva was enflamed, puffy, her aroma nearly overpowering. I watched as her crystal nectar pooled and dripped. Saliva pooled in my mouth, and my own muzzle dipped, giving a few cursory sniffs before I drew my tongue over her sex. She tasted sweet, deliciously so, like a ripe fruit, ready to be plucked. I let my tongue delve into her heat as she lapped at my shaft, drawing out her succulent juices. She wriggled against my tongue as I hunched against hers, suddenly finding her muzzle gently enclosing the tip of my length.

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It was a new sensation, one I hadn't imagined before, the warmth and the play of her tongue nearly driving me over the edge. I pulled my muzzle free, head tilted up to pant at the sky, toes curling against the grassy ground as her mouth slid along my member, only a few inches, but more than enough to bring me to the brink of climax. I trembled beneath her ministrations, suddenly feeling the gentle scrape of her sharp teeth against my tender flesh. The sensation was enough to throw me over, what felt like gallons of seed pumping into her muzzle before it pulled back, the rest spraying useless upon the ground.

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I lay panting, feeling the sharp prickle of the hay against my back, covered in sweat, stars dancing behind closed lids. It was one of the best orgasms I'd ever achieved. Slowly, I looked down at myself, expecting to see my hand covered in white goo. Much to my surprise, I instead found none other than Candi sitting between my legs. My spunk coated her face and chest, matting her fur as she tried to lick it clean, some drooling from her muzzle. I was shocked, to say the least, but still my shaft pulsed and sent another jet of cum skywards to land between her ears.

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She looked up at me, grinning from ear to ear, and licked her lips, leaving the rest to dry in her fur. She liked my smell upon her, my mark of scent on her body telling any who care to know that she was mine. The thought came unbidden into my mind, and I knew it wasn't my own. It was hers, and she had more to share. She turned away from me, dropping her forequarters, glancing back over her shoulder as she wiggled her rump, legs spread, tail lifted, her plump cleft fully revealed. I felt her need as strongly as that of the Houndoom in my fantasy. I knew now where that insight had come from.

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Perhaps I shouldn't have done what I did next. Most people would condemn me for it. I wasn't thinking of that at the moment, though, of the law, of others, of anyone but Candi. I loved her dearly, but I had never thought of her like this. I could sense how badly she wanted me, and my raging hormones urged me to give her what she so obviously desired, but I was worried. Not that I would be discovered, not what my mother might say, not any of that. I was worried I might hurt her. I was human after all, and she an Eevee. There was a rather inherent difference in our physiology that might make mating painful or even impossible. But... I could at least return the favor.

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I rolled over and shifted to all fours, moving close behind her. As in my fantasy, I sniffed delicately at the dripping sex before me. It was not as I imagined. Her scent was pungent and musky, not at all as flowery as I had expected. Then again, perhaps that was how it would smell were I an Eevee. I might never know. Hesitantly, I extended my tongue, flicking it over her puffed folds. She gave a soft squeak. Were it not for the shock of pleasure that vibrated through our link, I might have thought her in pain. I delved her nether lips once more, pushing aside the psychic sensations to contemplate her taste.

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It was rather flat, again not as expected, redolent with the same pungent musk as her pheromone-laced aroma, like thick mineral water. Regardless, I lapped it up, letting my tongue slip into the near scalding heat of her flower. I never expected it to feel that hot. Maybe from a Fire type but not from a Normal at least. I let my tongue seek further, pressing in until my lips met the cushioning flesh of her vulva. She ground against my face, giving soft whimpers and whines, hips circling to smear her juices over my lips. I could feel her pleasure growing swiftly, rising to blot out all other sensations, could even feel my own tongue as it lavished attention upon her needful nethers. It was incredible, and I could understand why she was enjoying it so much.

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Suddenly the pressure in my mind snapped as Candi gave a squeal. I could feel her trembling against my tongue and continued to lick her, pushing her higher and higher as her nectar spurted out to coat my cheeks and chin. I drank down as much as I could, but there was just too much. After a few minutes, I pulled back, panting as hard as she was. She flopped onto her side, weakly lifting her head to glance back at me with a goofy grin on her face, tail wagging gently against my thighs.

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I stared down at her, feeling a swell of new emotion within me. I couldn't tell if it came from her or from me, but I didn't really care. I loved her, with all my heart. She was mine, I was hers; that was all that mattered. She tottered to her paws and wobbled over into my lap, forepaws resting against my chest as she licked her juices from my face and I returned her grooming, tasting my own salty seed upon her fur. My shaft jumped as her belly fur brushed against it. I was amazed to find myself already hard again after such an exhausting orgasm. She noticed it as well and pulled away, giving it a lick before looking up at me with a glimmer in her eyes.

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She turned once more, dropping again into the mating pose. This time, I decided to give her what she wanted. If it hurt, I could always stop. I moved up behind her, my hands grasping her hips. I stroked my fingers through her soft fur as I lined myself up. At that age, we were just the right height for one another. Her heated nethers pressed against the tip of my member, urging me onwards. Slowly, I pressed in. It was better than I dreamed. With a soft squish, my head slipped into her, engulfed in her flesh, so tight and hot I thought I would explode right there. After a moment to calm myself, I pressed onward.

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I shouldn't have been surprised to find that she had a hymen, just like human girls, but I was. I paused when I felt my tip pressing against it, hesitant, but she thrust back at me. Our link spiked with her momentary pain, my ears ringing with her soft cry. She clenched around me, however, when I began to pull back, giving a pleading mewl. After a few seconds, I conceded, slipping inwards once more. She took all of my four inches easily. Though I could still sense her pain, more she felt satisfaction and completeness, the fullness of having me within her, the rightness, and I felt her heat all around me, pressing against my pulsing pole, quivering with every beat of her heart.

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She gave another squeak of pain when I pulled back, but held herself still, mentally urging me to continue. I did, stroking slowly inwards, savoring our first mating. I knew there would be more to come, many more if I had my way about it, but this one was special and always would be. Even so young, I knew how to do it. I had helped my mother breed countless Pokémon after all. As I pumped in and out, I felt her pain fading, slowly subsumed by her rising pleasure. It ratcheted up my own, and I felt my pace increase despite my desire to take my time.

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It wasn't long before I was pounding against her like I had intended to do my imaginary Houndoom companion. My hips slammed against hers, our groins meeting with wet slaps, my sack swinging to spank against her puffed vulva with each thrust. I nearly came when I felt her first orgasm crash down. She clenched so hard around me, I was momentarily caught tight, unable to move. But as her walls spasmed, I regained my momentum, pounding into her once more, driving her to a second and even a third climax before I could finally hold out no longer.

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I let loose my second load, holding myself deep within her. Not a drop was wasted as my seed flooded her heated tunnel, her body greedily milking out every last drop. I felt her utter satisfaction as she lay beneath me, images of kits swirling through her mind. We both knew it was impossible for me to impregnate her, but that didn't matter. I wished I had a knot to keep myself locked inside of her, but as things were, I simply rolled onto my side, holding her tight to my stomach as I stroked her scruff, my shaft still inside her clenching tunnel. She purred softly as I petted her, rewarding me with gentle squeezes as she basked in the afterglow.

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I glanced up to find Psylash and Darkling standing at the barn doors. I felt a sense of smugness from them matching their grins. It equated to a self-satisfied, About time. I blew them a raspberry, rubbing Candi's stomach. They trotted over, leaping up onto the haystack to nuzzle at us and lick up the mess we had made of one another. Afterwards, they snuggled against us, the four of us enjoying the warm glow radiating through our link. We were in love, the four of us, with our mates, with each other, at peace with the entire world. Even though we've been through a lot in the years since that moment, nothing has ever surpassed it in my memory, though a few things have come close to equal. I just wish there were more times like that and less dark spots.

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One of those came three months later. Psylash's seed had taken, and our training slowed down at bit when it became obvious that Darkling was pregnant again. She refused to be left out, but I was able to make sure she took it easy as she progressed. Everything went fine during the gestation, and all of us were very excited for her. Psylash was worried, but happy, constantly nuzzling his cheeks to her tummy whenever he had the chance. I didn't complain. Whenever he did, I could feel the tentative touch of his kit's young minds against my own. It was a warm, floating feeling, comforting and happy.

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Unfortunately, the birthing was not quite as easy. Darkling went into labor early. She woke me screaming late one night, curled into herself with pain. Psylash danced frantically around her, confused, terrified, uncertain what he should do, if there was anything he could do, planting a nuzzle here, a lick there, trying his best to comfort her even though he himself was panicked. For the first time since we met, I was suddenly in my element. I threw off the covers and pulled her into my arms. Psylash leapt against me as I swiftly woke Mom and we took her out to our clinic at the back of the barn.

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Mom set everything as Psylash, Candi, and I did our best to comfort Darkling. There was little we could do, however. Her distress nearly overwhelmed our link, spurring our own. And amidst it all, we could feel the confused fright of her unborn kits, could feel them slowly slipping away. I urged Mom to hurry. I think she knew it was too late, but still she hastened her preparations. I cried out when I felt the first tiny, innocent mind fade away into darkness. I wept as the lifeless body was forced out. Mom did her best to revive the kit, but it was gone and we all knew it.

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We huddled there around Darkling for nearly two hours. One by one, her kits died within her, some simply slipping away, others winking out with sharp bursts of agony. In the end, only one survived. It was a tiny, sickly thing, but we were just thankful that it was alive at all. Mom placed its immature body into an incubator, life support aiding its struggle. Darkling and Psylash kept constant watch over the kit over the following weeks as it stabilized and grew stronger, barely eating, barely sleeping. I was right there with them the whole time, making sure they kept up their own strength.

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I was furious. Even so long after the fact, that evil bastard had still managed to extend his hand into our lives and rip away our joy. I did everything I knew to help the kit along and keep my Pokémon from driving themselves crazy with worry. It was nearly a month before Mom deemed the kit fit to emerge into the world. Darkling and Psylash were ecstatic, nuzzling and grooming the kit so much I was worried they would hurt it. When at last their greetings were done, Darkling lay content as it suckled at her tummy, feeding for the first time on its mother's milk.

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Miracle, as we named the kit, grew over the years. He was never very strong, always prone to illness. He was adopted by a children's hospital in Slateport to cheer up the kids there. We visited as often as we could, proud of how strong he had become, of the role he had taken on. He died at the age of seven, far too young. He touched the lives of countless children though, showing them that even the sick could heal, that even the weak could grow strong. We missed his funeral, but with good reason. We were hot on the tail of the bastard that caused his siblings' deaths.