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Maintaining the order they’d exited the airship, males then females, the Evans twins stood side-by-side between Dani and Xiu Bai, at the center of a massive gymnasium. Bright, morning sunlight shone through the gym’s inaccessibly high windows, casting an omnipotent glow over the Pokemorphs while cloaking an array of human onlookers in shadow, just beyond the scope of the beams. Unable to see their captors’ faces, Nicole nervously shifted her feet to maintain their position along the charcoal line spanning the width of the room’s glossy, wooden floor; that same black marking traversed the room’s perimeter, forming a rectangular outline resembling the arena layout from their school’s training facility. Noting her sister’s anxiety, Lavender chewed on her bottom lip staring intensely at the darkened silhouettes while subtly swishing her tail against the back of the Umbreon’s knee.

“My name is Martin Stafford,” the human leader declared, stepping forward into the light, and fiddling with his cufflinks before rolling up each sleeve, “my father was Alfred Stafford. His father was Wallace Stafford. His father was William Stafford. And so on, for over a dozen generations. The Stafford name…is a legacy.”

Cool air conditioning breezed through Lavender’s fur, distracting the Espeon from Martin’s pompous speech as her nipples stiffened in the unnatural chill. Despite every urge to cover up, she recalled the order she’d received alongside the other candidates, ‘stand up straight, legs apart, hands to yourselves, behind your backs’, and the timid refusal of Xiu Bai. The Mienshao shyly cupped her petit breasts, even as electricity coursed through her body, involuntarily forcing her fingertips to dig deeper into the soft mounds. Once the punishment ceased and a pair of servile humans pried loose Xiu Bai’s paws, the other Pokemorphs fell into line; Lavender dutifully interlocked her fingers just above the base of her tail, gritting her teeth and half-heartedly listening to the droning human.

“My family has trained arena combatants for generations,” Martin continued, beginning to pace along the line of Pokemorphs, glaring at those proud enough to look him in the eye, “since the time when your kind was nothing more than a collection of feral beasts, thrashing about in the grass. We tamed your ancestors, trained them into warriors, and they fought for us with gusto. And when human scientists created the Pokemorph race, the Stafford family was one of the first to broaden our horizons, funding the research because my forefathers saw the potential of your species to serve as more malleable fighters.”

Lavender shifted uncomfortably, her head dipping as the man passed by with a smile on his face at the display of subservience. Of course she knew from her academy biology classes that the evolutionary transition from feral Pokemon to anthro Pokemorphs had come at the hands of outside manipulation. And yes, despite her family’s association with the Church of Arceus, she had grown skeptical over the years to the church’s teachings. But both Nicole and their mother steadfastly believed in the idea that Pokemorph life was the result of Arceus’ divine will; as defiant as Lavender behaved at times, this was one line she refused to cross, respectfully keeping her opinions to herself. But now, with the human’s matter-of-fact assertion that his kind had produced her entire race, the Espeon found herself doubling down on the Arcean faith and inwardly praying for a well-deserved smiting.

“Like my father before me, and his father before him, et cetera, I take arena combat very seriously,” Martin boomed, reaching up to callously wipe away a tear from Tiffany’s eye as she flinched against his touch, “a large investment was made to acquire each and every one of you—a large investment that I do not intend to waste. I expect nothing short of greatness from this group. You will be trained, you will be tested, and you will be pushed to your limits. You will become my warriors, and I will not tolerate weakness.”

Martin caressed the Lopunny’s cheek, his free hand drying her other eye before smearing the tears into the pink fluff of one ear. Condescendingly patting her on the head, he moved to the end of the line, where Vivian immediately cast her gaze to the floor, unwilling to look at the man. Unwilling to be ignored, Martin cupped the Ninetales’ chin, lifting her head to face him and pinching her muzzle open.

“You’re very beautiful, my dear,” the human commented, tilting her skull from side to side, “I can see why he chose you. Were I a beast myself, I could see myself indulging the same way.”

Without warning, Martin’s free hand speared between Vivian’s thighs, brushing through the filthy, matted fur surrounding her pussy before plowing two fingers inside. Her eyes jolted open and she yowled, wrenching herself from his grasp and stumbling backwards into a heap on the floor. A plethora of tails enveloped her lower body, concealing her shame as she lost control, burying her face in her hands and sobbing wildly. Watching the display, Martin merely swirled his thumb against his index and middle fingers, examining the opaque mixture of fluids collected thereupon. In the span of seconds, however, his attention diverted to a frightening roar bellowing through the gym as Hunter lunged for the man, nearly foaming at the mouth.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU YOU SONUVA-”

Hunter cut off in mid-sentence, his muzzle caught open as every muscle in his body froze. His center of balance in the midst of a lunge, the motionless Arcanine toppled forward, smashing into the wooden floor with a solid crunch. Several of the other Pokemorphs gasped, eyes darting from Hunter to Martin and trembling as the man’s face showed no emotion towards what had transpired. The human simply returned his attention to Vivian, striding forward, snagging the Ninetales by the ear, and hoisting her to her feet amidst a chorus of yelps.

“I’m aware that you are an animal,” he hissed into her ear, his voice loud enough to reach all Pokemorphs present and making the Ninetales wince from the volume’s close proximity, “you can’t control your base urges. And far be it for me to try and deny you that. However, know that your body…belongs to me. Not to him, not to yourself, not to anyone else. Me. If I wanted to, I could let each and every one of these males have a turn while your tough little boyfriend watches. If I wanted to. And if I tell you to close up shop? Well then, you’d better get used to those manicured fingernails of yours, because they’re all you’re allowed.

“But like I said, I won’t deny you your urges. Just know two things. First of all, if I ever happen to catch you fucking again—and that goes for any of you—I have no problem revoking any and all sexual privileges you may be accustomed to. And second, if you get yourself knocked up, you will receive no special treatment. No respite from your training. And your egg, should you carry it to term? That too…belongs to me.”

Martin dragged the Ninetales back to her place in line, the vixen furiously scrubbing at her fur to erase the accumulated mess of tears and mucus. With Vivian sorted out, he set his sights on the prone Arcanine, immobilized save for a series of ragged breaths muffled into the floor. The human grasped Hunter’s collar and strained, yanking and choking the larger male down the line to his position between Travis and Rickey. Panting slightly, he cleared his throat and smoothed out the growing wrinkles in his shirt before returning to his place before the group. He extended one hand and looked back over his shoulder, snapping his fingers before Hunter miraculously recovered, coughing and sputtering on the floor and clutching at his swollen nose.

“They’re wonderful things, those collars you’re wearing,” Martin chuckled, “they’re so very, very versatile. I mean, beyond the obvious applications of punishing disobedience—as some of you are already aware—they also serve quite well as a control mechanism. You are, after all, dangerous and untamed beasts, and it would be foolish on my part not to ensure my own safety in your presence.

Some of you may have already noticed a dulling of your abilities. Those of you with natural fire abilities, water abilities, psychic abilities…you struggle to perform such feats, and success earns you a shock. These collars suppress your abilities, preventing their misuse against your masters. This effect is not permanent. We wouldn’t want to leave you defenseless in battle, after all. However, the suppression field is controlled by myself and by my staff. You don’t get to act unless we give the go-ahead.

Which brings us to what you just witnessed. Some of you are not here for your special abilities, but rather pure, brute strength. It would be inefficient to suppress your physical abilities at all times, but we still need to feel safe around you. So there are instances where, rather than administering a painful electric shock that some of you don’t seem to mind, the collar with send a small impulse to the base of your skull, shutting down all motor functions and effectively paralyzing you. You will be conscious and you will feel everything, but you will remain immobile until such a time that we deem it safe.”

Martin raised both arms to the side and flicked his fingers forward, summoning forward several other figures from the shadows. Allie stepped to her father’s side, emotionless as she looked upon the line while lightly rubbing the concealed bandage beneath her sweater. The younger male from the airship moved to the other side, scratching at a patch of growing stubble on his cheek and smirking at the worried expressions featured on most of his family’s new purchases. Third and finally, a younger teenaged boy took his place beside Allie, remaining a step behind her with his cherubic face obscured by a mop of long, brown hair.

“These are my children,” Martin stated before indicating his entourage, “some of you may have already met them: my elder son, Steven, my younger son, Liam, and my daughter, Allison. They will be my eyes and ears over the course of your training, and you are to obey their every order. Only I supersede their authority. I am your Master.”

“Fuck that,” Dani piped up from Lavender’s side, the Weavile stepping off the line and setting both hands on her hips, “go on, go ahead. Fry me, freeze me, whatever the fuck you wanna do. I’m not calling some fucking pale skinbag ‘Master’ no matter what you fucking do to me. So go right the fuck a-”

Dani’s fur bristled and her limbs danced wildly as a sudden burst of electricity traveled through her. She collapsed to her hands and knees, growling as she tried in vain to bite back a shrill screech of pain. Crawling forward, she fought against the sensation, her claws digging into the wood as she pulled herself towards the unimpressed quartet of humans. Seething and screeching once more, she lunged forward, feebly clutching at Martin’s pant leg and staring up at his with furious, bulging eyes. The sharp kick to her face seemed a bit overkill at that point.

“Hey!” Silas hissed at the Stafford family patriarch, moving towards the still-twitching Weavile, “you think picking on ssssome sssskinny midget makessss you tough?”

Though allowed to finish his call-out in full, the Seviper too ended up on the ground, his tail whipping violently behind him in time with the wild thrashing of his slender body. With the humans’ focus on Silas, Dani’s punishment ceased, and the petit Weavile coughed, dripping blood from the corner of her mouth as she pushed herself back to her knees. Coughing amidst a fit of laughter, she jammed a thumb up one nostril and expelled a bloody snot rocket in Martin’s direction, then staggered to her feet, knees still shaking from the lingering electrical effects.

“We weren’t done yet, motherfucker,” she spat at the human, sending another snot rocket to the floor from her other nostril, “that the best you can fuckin’ do? My mother kicks harder than that.”

His attention divided between the writhing Seviper and the delinquent Weavile, Martin relented, depressing his remote control and ending Silas’ torture. Slowly turning back to Dani, his nostrils flared as he typed a command into the remote and circled his thumb around the shock button. Ever defiant, Dani ignored his threat and glazed her tongue along the rim of her muzzle, lapping away at a cut just inside her upper lip. Her eyes narrowed and despite the swelling of her jaw, she managed to crack a smile, teeth spreading across her face with each second that she remained unpunished.

“C’mon then,” she cackled, flipping both middle fingers at the man before using them to prod the still-tender flesh beneath her collar, “bring it on! You spent a million creds on me, might as well get your fuckin’ money’s worth! So come on! Let’s go motherfucker! Light me the fuck up!”

Martin’s thumb rested atop the red rubber, gravity urging him to enact his will on the mouthy bitch, but his face displayed an air of contemplation. He tilted his head up, symbolically peering down his nose at the diminutive female, and casually tucked the remote back in his breast pocket. He looked over his shoulder to a catwalk hidden beneath the morning shadows of the window frames, and offered a near-imperceptible nod that went unnoticed by the gloating Weavile.

“That’s what I fucking thought!” Dani heckled the human, still a bit shaky as she tauntingly bounced on the balls of her feet, “you’ve got nothing on us. You spend a fucking million creds…you’re not gonna fucking do shit to waste that kind of money. All you can fucking do is show off what a big man you are with your shock collars. Can’t even do shit for yourself.

“I mean, seriously you guys,” she turned, looking briefly at the recovering Seviper before addressing the rest of line, “he’s got one fucking trick up his sleeve. He’s not our fucking Master.”

Out of the corner of her eye, a glint of light caught Lavender’s noticed a black mist drifting to the floor at the far side of the room. While Dani ran her mouth, berating Martin Stafford and throwing a few insults at his family for good measure, she seemed completely oblivious to the strange entity floating her way. As it approached, Lavender could make out some shimmering metal in the form of a polished shield and razor-sharp sword, drawing ever-closer to the Weavile. The mist coalesced into muscular arms with wrists connecting to the sword and shield, and continued to build out from there. An Aegislash body formed, male and as bare as the rest of the Pokemorphs, warping his features and musculature for a fit and youthful appearance.

His arrival drew the attention of the others as ethereal feet touched the ground and stalked silently towards Dani who remained unaware of the ghost’s presence. A single, glowing eye rotated in his vaporous skull, zeroing in on the chatting pray so efficiently painting a target on her back. A flurry of gasps erupted from the line as the Aegislash reared back, golden sword in hand, and swung ferociously, the sharpened blade whistling through the air as it looped around and connected with the Weavile’s exposed throat.

Dani gasped, cut off mid-sentence at the honed metal drawing the faintest hint of blood from her neck. The Aegislash’s shield hooked around, clamping down on her stomach and yanking her back, pinning the girl against a wall of ghostly muscle and never once withdrawing his sword from its precarious position. A quick gulp halted as a lump in Dani’s throat caught on the blade’s edge, reducing the Weavile to a sputtering mess. Dani struggled against the Pokemorph’s imposing grip, gasping and coughing and trying to pry her neck away from the sharpened metal threatening her life, and the Aegislash simply held her there. He stood, statuesque, no sign of breath emerging from his motionless chest and nary a twitch of movement from his spectral member as the Weavile’s fuzzy rear wriggled back into his crotch.

“Meet Arthur,” Martin said smugly, approaching the restrained Weavile, “he’s been with my family since before I was born. Since he was an egg. He’s the most loyal member of Team Stafford, and that loyalty is quite useful when it comes to arrogant little cunts, like yourself, a lesson.”

The human lightly pushed Arthur’s sword away, tracing a finger along the thin of blood starting to drip from Dani’s neck and lightly painting patterns around the girl’s face. Despite her fear and surprise, she growled, straining against the restrictive shield and contorting her facial expression in an effort to appear intimidating once more. Martin wasted no time on humoring the Weavile, the knuckles at the back of his hand connecting harshly with her cheek and jolting her back against the Aegislash.

“Arthur,” Martin addressed the ghost, wiping his hand on Dani’s exposed sternum, “do it.”

The Aegislash offered a faint nod and wrenched Dani sideways, dragging her to the nearest wall and slamming her small frame hard against the plaster. His shield pressed against her throat, smashing the back of her skull against the rough surface and jabbing a knee into her gut to pin the rest of her body. A pair of human guards rushed over, taking positions at either side of the duo and ensnaring Dani’s wrists, pulling them to the sides and splaying the Weavile, allowing Arthur to step away.

Hissing and spitting, Dani thrashed against the guards who struggled to hold her still, but her fiery gaze never left the swordsman. Arthur secured his shield at his back, the metal floating amidst a swirl of ghastly smoke while the misty stump of his newly-emptied hand reformed into a set of grim, sharpened fingers. He gripped the hilt of his sword arm and pressed the blade against Dani’s restrained right wrist, cutting into her skin as her eyes widened, a sudden realization dawning on her as to the meaning of Martin’s order.

“No! Don’t you…d-don’t you fucking dare! Let me fucking go!”

“Sssstop!” Silas grunted, climbing to his feet.

“No!” Lavender joined him in protest, speaking up for the first time and drawing Martin’s attention.

“P-Please no…” Nicole whimpered, trembling behind her sister.

“Arthur, stop,” Martin directed, pausing as he looked over the vocal opposition to his orders, then smirking and turning back to Dani, “she’s right-handed. Do the other side.”

Arthur’s glowing eye twitched, swirling from Dani’s right hand to her left. In one swift motion, he shifted his body, his sword catching the sunlight and gleaming as he swung it overhead. Dani shrieked as the blade sliced through the air, and her bladder unclenched in fear, staining the wooden floor in her sour aroma. Several terrified voices echoed hers, eyes clamping shut and paws covering aghast muzzles, unwilling to watch the Weavile’s dismemberment. A clang echoed through the gymnasium, Arthur’s blade embedding itself in the wall as it sliced cleanly through his victim’s pale fur. And then he pulled back, the incorporeal metal passing through Dani to reveal her wrist, still fully intact and unharmed. The guards released her paws, and she collapsed to the floor in a puddle of her own creation, still shivering violently.

“One of these days, Arthur,” Martin offered, patting the Aegislash’s shield as he approached the trembling female, “you’re going to phase too slowly and I’ll have a real mess to clean up.

“And here I thought you were housebroken,” he taunted Dani, kneeling at her side, “though I guess I shouldn’t expect too much from an animal, should I? You’re welcome, by the way. I don’t think you need both of your arms to do what I ask, but that would certainly be preferable for all involved, now wouldn’t it?”

“Y-You…” she panted, her thighs still shaking, “you fucking…b-bastard…”

“What was that, Miss King? I couldn’t hear you over the smell of your filth. Let this be a lesson to you, because next time I won’t been so lenient. Next time, Arthur won’t just scare you. He’ll finish the job.

“That goes for all of you!” he announced, looking back at the rest of his new purchases, still recoiling in horror at what they just witnessed, “yes it’s true that I paid a good deal of money for each and every one of you. However, should you prove to be untrainable or weak or disobedient, then you are worth no more to me than if you were injured, maimed, or dead. So do not overestimate your value to me. You are animals, and you can be replaced in an instant.

“One year from now,” the human proclaimed, hot breath washing over Dani’s tearful eyes as he squeezed her muzzle, “you will be full-fledged members of Team Stafford, competing in my name and earning your place at this ranch—perhaps even earning your release from my service in the process. One year from now. You’re all still very raw, very green recruits. But we’ll fix that, oh yes we will.

“Someone clean this bitch up,” he shoved Dani away and rose to his feet, “she smells disgusting.”

As Dani tremblingly wrapped a paw around her wrist, squeezing and stroking the still-connected flesh, Martin paced back to the center of the gym, rejoining his family. Steven laughed and offered a congratulatory pat to the elder man’s shoulder, joking that ‘She’s pissed,’ and earning a laugh from his father in the process. The younger son, Liam, displayed none of his brother’s callous bravado, instead proving unable to look at the humiliated Weavile, or any of her fellow Pokemorphs for that matter. Lavender, however, found herself drawn to the fourth Stafford, Allie’s gaze focused on the Espeon and mouthing one thing: ‘You ready to listen now?’ Lavender gritted her teeth, glaring briefly at the victorious patriarch, and nodded.

All characters © Inviso

Artwork from Avencri and Upstairstudios