“Charizard, I choose you!”

 

Charizard thought he could hear nervous hesitation in his Piss-Weedle trainer’s angry voice, as with a flash of light, the dim awareness the Pokéball afforded him burst into the vivid reality of his senses.  Before him stood a teenage human, obviously the trainer he was meant to face.  Though this lad in front looked more competent than the flustered one behind, he still fell below Charizard’s concern.  Bored, and without anything worthwhile to do, the flame Pokémon lazily stretched his wings and muscular upper back, looking at the surrounding area. 

 

It seemed that they were at a gathering of trainers, somewhere outside a city.  The space was open, set in the foothills of a range of mountains.  The smells of Pokémon and food pervaded the air, and beneath that, Charizard’s nose determined that the city was Misty’s hometown.  Trainers milled about talking, though many had stopped to watch the match, and a fair number were cheering on his opponent.  Perhaps there would be something worthwhile to do after all, though Charizard doubted that any of the Rattatas around here had anything that could hold a match to the Magmar he’d recently trounced.

 

The trainer before him lobbed a Pokéball high, and before him flapped a Spearow.  Charizard blinked twice to assure himself that this idiot in front of him had really just set a Spearow against him.  He couldn’t tell which child-human was the greater idiot, but decided it must be the one in front.  Spearow wasn’t a match, it was a meal.  Spearow were prey. 

 

“Charizard, Flamethrower attack!” he heard from behind him.  Suppressing the urge to laugh, Charizard opened his jaws wide, preparing the attack.  He then casually turned his head to face behind him and tried to make the little Piss-Weedle more closely resemble his name.  Ash narrowly managed to dodge away from the attack.  Charizard had been too lazy about turning his neck, and an attack that would have scorched Ash from head to waist only clipped a shoulder and singed his hair.  Annoyed, Charizard was about to let Ash have another, hotter, when the other trainer let loose a mocking cackle and hollered out, “Spearow, Agility!”

 

The time between the command and the impact was nearly nil.  The Spearow's beak raked Charizard’s cheek as the bird strafed him, moving faster than he’d ever imagined a Spearow could move.  The scratches the small bird left were deep enough to hurt, and had he not been intent on roasting his trainer, Charizard might have been blinded.  A prey item had wounded him, had made a fool of him!  The full brunt of the dragon’s anger came to bear on the bird. 

 

The flame on Charizard’s tail grew larger as he looked for his quarry, intending to bat it out of the sky.  He ignored the instructions being shouted from behind him, consequentially only hearing, “Above you!” a breath too late to stop the dive, as a series of Fury Attacks rained down upon his neck and shoulders at incredible speed.  Roaring in Rage, Charizard swung his arms and only narrowly missed his tormentor.

 

“Fly,” shouted the trainer, and the Spearow again ascended.  Charizard would have none of that; he took off as well, ignoring the lacerations above his wing joints.  Up he chased the Spearow, putting himself right where he wanted to be: out of earshot of the Piss-Weedle trainers, where it was just him and his prey.  The bird moved blindingly fast, but it would only be a matter of time before the dragon’s own attacks connected. 

 

Again the Spearow struck him, this time cutting across his exposed underbelly while dodging around his jaws.  Then again, with a Drill Peck across his tail, which now sported a raging inferno larger than the Spearow itself.  A third strike clipped a wing, and caused Charizard’s flight to falter.  But as the Spearow hit, the bulk of Charizard’s scaly flesh absorbed most of the attacker’s momentum, opening up a clear shot. 

 

With a roar that told anyone within a mile and a half that Charizard triumphed this day, a massive Fire Spin erupted forth and completely engulfed the hapless Spearow.  Charizard sustained the flames well past the point of incapacitating his foe, meaning to return the humiliation to the bird by leaving it naked and flightless.  For good measure, he made a pass of his own, slamming the bird downward with the full weight of his tail, delighting in the crunching sounds he heard as he sent the lifeless bird plummeting towards the earth.  If the trainer wasn’t fast about catching his Pokémon in its ball, the impact would put it out of its misery.  It would serve him right for thinking a mere Spearow could stand a chance against Charizard!  He hoped it would play out that way—if the bird died, perhaps they’d let him eat it.

 

A flash of red light near the ground signaled that there would be no fresh fowl on the menu today.  Nevertheless, Charizard felt a deep sense of primal satisfaction at his victory.  While there had never been any question about the outcome of the match, it was nonetheless gratifying to taste the feeling of being the dominant predator, especially for a domestic Pokémon that didn’t get the experience very often.

 

Deciding to ride out the high from his victory and to further aggravate the Piss-Weedle by delaying the inevitable chastisement for disobedience and use of unnecessary force, Charizard remained aloft.  What could the little Piss-Weedle do about it?  Flying along the low mountains, he espied a small plateau surrounded by shear drops that would make access to non-fliers difficult, but would prove a nice basking spot for him, should he desire.  And off in the distance beyond it, his keen eyesight penetrated the haze to make out the blue shimmer of the city, where he knew the group had claimed rooms in the Pokémon Center for the previous and the subsequent night.  He coasted idly for a time.

 

As rewarding as a victory flight was, still Charizard was not satisfied.  His blood was hot; he hungered, and in a way that a mere meal would not satisfy.  He would have loved to rip into that Spearow and feel its bones crunch between his teeth as he sucked the muscle from them, not because he needed to eat it, but because he could.  Only one thing had ever made him feel so primally fulfilled.  He grinned wickedly as he turned back toward the gathering, flying slowly so as to give himself time to reminisce about his little escapade with his foxy friend.

__

After returning from Cinnabar Island, the group had traveled from Viridian City, bound for Cerulean.  Ash had been ecstatic about his victory, much to the annoyance of the dimly aware Charizard in his Pokéball, who attributed no credit to his trainer for the win.  Ash had wanted to reward Charizard for doing an excellent job, and thought that perhaps if he was kind to the ill-tempered lizard, he might regain some measure of Charizard’s lost loyalty.  At a loss as to what he had to offer, Ash had taken inspiration from Pikachu’s distaste for being cooped up in a ball and decided to let Charizard out for the evening.  Despite Misty’s fears that Charizard might attack them, and Brock’s cautions that Charizard might simply abandon his trainer, Ash had put his trust in his Pokémon’s loyalty.

 

Upon materializing, Charizard had surprised the group by refraining from attacking.  Unbeknownst to them, this was due to Charizard finding it appeasing to his pride that just letting him out had sent the whole group seeking cover, and left Pikachu standing tense, hackles up.  There was a part of him that was very tempted to start something for no better reason than to battle the little Pipsqueak, just to prove he could beat even the Piss-Weedle’s precious star performer. 

 

Fortunately Ash had the sense to maintain an entreating stance while explaining his idea to Charizard, sparing himself the scorching he’d earned for claiming any measure of credit for the win in the volcano.  Ultimately, Charizard had accepted the free night with visible relish, though he viewed it more as the egotistical trainer getting off his high Rapidash to give the deserving Pokémon a fraction of his due.

 

Flying off with no particular direction in mind and filled with the satisfied sense of freedom that only the great are allowed, Charizard had put the camp to his back, though he made sure to note a few landmarks for when he returned.  That he would return was certain; much as he detested the little Piss-Weedle that called himself a trainer, Charizard was aware that he’d be no less bored living here in a forest with nothing bigger than Nidoran running about, and food aplenty.  While migration was certainly within the mighty lizard’s ability, he could not tolerate the thought that his departure might be interpreted as cowardice.  The notion of anyone, even these pathetic humans, thinking that Charizard had fled from the challenges of the fighting life for the easy living in the wild was unacceptable.

 

After perhaps an hour flying aimlessly, Charizard alighted to seek food in a glen he’d passed over several times.  A copse of fruit-bearing bushes nearby offered up an easy snack.  After eating his fill, Charizard looked around for something to do.  The first thing his gaze settled on was a huge, dead tree that looked to have been struck by lightning.  Feeling the need to challenge himself, Charizard had thrown his weight against the trunk in an attempt to push it over.  The branches and trunk shook, but the tree had remained firm.  Finding sufficient sport in what he was doing, Charizard spent the last minutes of daylight bringing the tree down with a combination of shoves, scratches, and rocking.  Triumphantly, the victor dragged his fallen adversary into the clearing and set it ablaze. 

 

Sitting back on his haunches and watching the glow amidst the gathering darkness, Charizard felt content.  He was more at peace than he had felt in months.  Still, something was amiss.  A deeper desire burned for release, something he had never quite understood, but which had been with him since his evolution to Charmeleon, and which grew particularly prominent after a victory.  This angst troubled him, and he resolved to uncover the source.  There was some smell he wanted to inhale, some taste, some feel, something that was beyond his ken, yet that he somehow knew anyway. 

 

Eventually, Charizard’s desires became clearer to him, and with the newfound awareness, they took shape and burned with greater fervor.  A decision came to Charizard: he, a dominant male, would go take what he wanted.  And with that, the dragon stepped back from his fire and took wing.

 

Sneaking into camp had been simple.  The humans were all in their sleeping bags under the stars in the wide part of a clearing shaped like a stretched out egg.  Charizard had landed in the farther narrow end so as to avoid being heard.  Moving with silence and grace impressive for a Pokémon so large, he’d sought out Brock’s pack, and located the Pokéballs.  His keen nose discerned the faint smell of soft fur about one ball, and upon closer inspection, he found that this ball was also warmer than the others. This Pokéball he took from the backpack, grasping it gently in his mouth.  He went back to the far end of the camp and took off for his clearing, using the dying glow of his fire as a landing beacon.

 

Salivating with anticipation, Charizard pressed the button and released the radiant fox, which materialized facing away from him.  As expected, after taking a moment to find her bearings and realize that no opponent was present, Vulpix turned around looking like she anticipated another grooming.  When she realized that instead of Brock, behind her stood Ash’s Charizard, the bewilderment in her face was plain.  In a beautiful twist of irony, she had seemed reassured as the intimidating but familiar Pokémon scooped her up, holding her about the midriff.  Too easy.

 

“Where is Brock,” she asked.  “Where are the others?”  Charizard did not respond as he drew her to his chest and began to sniff the tantalizing cocktail of aromas emanating from the vixen, which began to squirm in his grasp.  Rather than answering a repeated query, Charizard lifted Vulpix to the level of his eyes, sniffing about her neck, her cream-colored chest, her thinly furred abdomen, and settling eventually to sniff intently at where the scents were most intriguing.  A nervous note sounded in the small Pokémon’s voice as she asked what he was doing.  Charizard answered with a deep pull of breath at the base of her tails, which curled protectively between her legs.  “Stop it!” she demanded, tensing six tails of muscle to shield her treasure.  Nosing them out of the way took no effort for Charizard, as he treated himself to a hearty rasp of his tongue against her intoxicatingly scented snatch.  A dozen more eager lashes, ignoring plaintive cries and struggles of protest, saw Vulpix thoroughly slicked with hot saliva, the resisting flesh she sought so desperately to defend softening in unwanted readiness.

 

However, as the blood flowed to the desperate fox’s nether regions, her frantically flailing legs found purchase against the claws that gripped her and for a moment she was airborne and free.  Not to be denied, Charizard caught her, feet above the ground, with a deft sweep of one claw below her belly.  The terrified Vulpix was once again hoisted in strong arms against the body of her overpowering captor.  Charizard shifted his grip so that the hand that had caught her now supported Vulpix’s chest, with his digits between her forelegs, while his free hand took the reverse position parting her hind.  As that claw began to press and knead, Vulpix treated Charizard to a new gift: her helpless sobs.  More delicious than the frightened Pokémon’s scent, Charizard savored these further admissions of his dominance and strength. 

 

Only one greater joy remained to be had here, and Charizard did not delay.  Using the rear-facing hand as a guide, he pressed his keening victim roughly against the massive organ he had waiting behind her.  Even the first touch was ecstasy, as he drew himself to the flushed flesh and elicited a yelp from Vulpix.  The warm mound had not yielded, so Charizard had pressed harder, momentarily distressed that the fox might be too small to even accommodate his very entrance.  But then, suddenly, his tip was surrounded by damp warmth, as the tight, resisting lips spread open to admit him. 

 

Vulpix shrieked and a small flame shot from her mouth.  Had she been larger, Charizard would have held the nape of her neck in his teeth, the better to pull himself to her.  His instinct instead led him to snap his chops in front of her head in a frightening display that silenced the fox.  It was as if he’d eaten her scream.  Wanting more, Charizard used his wrists to pull the whimpering Vulpix’s hips closer to himself, grinding her upon his invading dick.  He pushed himself as deep as the little fox’s body would permit, and there he held himself, delighting in the new cries he drew from her.  The ecstasy of her resisting muff, coupled with the thrill of her submission, and the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted with her built up within him, and finally he roared aloud and released his pent up torrent of semen into Vulpix.

 

When it was done, Charizard continued to hold his sobbing plaything as he panted, savoring the last few seconds as his lower body relaxed and withdrew from within her in a gush of fluids.  He then placed her on the ground, aware that the aches of stretching and friction he’d just inflicted upon her would prevent the little fox from running off.  And with that, he brusquely commanded her to clean herself.

 

Somehow, a spark of defiance remained to the conceited Vulpix.  Despite the agony and shame she had just endured, she mustered the will to refuse, to tell Charizard that she would find a way to tell Brock of this, and to see him punished.  He merely chuckled.  What could they do anyway? He didn’t care to play that game though, as it amused him more to simply take even this from his victim.  So instead, he pointed out to her that should he wish, he could do the one thing that came more naturally to a Charizard who’s caught a Vulpix than what he’d just done.  To Charizard’s immense glee, the little bitch had had the gall to tell him he wouldn’t dare.

 

Several seconds of acquaintanceship with Charizard’s gullet had been enough to convince her otherwise.  A chorus of thrills swam through Charizard as Vulpix’s hind legs and six tails frantically thrashed the front of his snout, her screams resonating in his sinuses.  Charizard felt like he could taste past the fur and the natural scents that Vulpix carried, past the combined tastes of his fluids and hers, which had dripped sufficiently out of her to reach the tip of his tongue, he tasted all the way down to the core where he could taste her fear.  While not as physically stimulating as mating, this culmination of his supremacy thrilled Charizard more than he would have thought possible.  He’d been so tempted to just bite down and swallow, and even now he lamented the lost opportunity.  What had stopped him was the realization that his power over Vulpix had left him aroused once more.

 

Charizard recalled that he had not even given the fox time to catch her breath between extracting her from his mouth and impaling her again.  The second time he’d slipped in more easily and the overall experience had been far better than the first, especially because this time he’d held Vulpix the other way so that he was looking at her face.  For the briefest instant, he’d seen her eyes.  She immediately snapped them shut tight and turned her head downward.  She hadn’t looked up at him since.  But the sheer beauty of her subjugation, which he saw in her eyes as he slid her down his shaft that second time, he would always remember.

__

The sensation of cold wind passing his aroused member drew Charizard back to the present.  He’d never experienced the sensation of flying erect, as he’d been thoroughly finished by the time he’d flown Vulpix, no longer argumentative but painstakingly clean, back to camp in her Pokéball.  He concluded that he did not enjoy this feeling, as it left the sensitive skin feeling cold and dry, exactly the opposite of how he’d like.  Having flown for a satisfactory stretch in recollection, Charizard descended to see what food was available, leaving himself enough time to fully retract.

 

Following his landing on the outskirts of the convention, the hungry Pokémon had made a Beedrill-line for the tables of food.  With considerable mirth, he noted that Pokémon and trainer alike hastened to get out of his way.  Apparently, his battle had made quite the impression—strong and imposing for him, embarrassingly out of control for his Piss-Weedle trainer.  Perfect.  With a hearty grin, Charizard reached the table and began to partake of the food, which turned out to be terrific.

 

With proper reverence established in those around, and while devouring copious amounts of this excellent food, Charizard began to calm down and accept the minor misfortune of going away unsatisfied.  He still didn’t like it, and he knew that left in his Pokéball, he’d feel the itch for days.  But he could bear it—there was little Charizard could not bear, strong as he was—and being where he was right now was reasonable consolation. 

A high-pitched shriek sounded behind him, only feet away.  Charizard spun rapidly in surprise to see a flaming human.  I took him a moment to realize that in his preoccupied state, he’d been unconsciously swishing his tail, and the flame had just set Misty’s clothes afire.  For the briefest instant, Charizard froze, dumbfounded, as Misty flailed before him in a panic.  Then he lunged forward, tackling the burning girl to the ground and using his body and wings to smother the flames.  When they were extinguished, he got up and helped the grateful girl to her feet.

 

Fortunately, Misty appeared unhurt, aside from a few burns more minor than those he meant to bestow upon Ash earlier.  The same could not be said of her clothing.  His tail had caught her in the front, where one of her suspenders met her shorts at the base of her shirt, and had ignited all three articles at once.  The shorts, being of a heavier material, had not burned as quickly as the shirt or suspenders, but were still clearly damaged beyond use.  The first suspender had split, and as the fire rapidly consumed Misty’s shirt, the second had nearly burned through.  The shirt itself was almost completely destroyed.  What was left of it hung across Misty’s back and shoulders, held in place solely by the remaining piece of suspender, which snapped a moment later when Misty moved.  With the last support failing, the compromised shorts sagged down Misty’s legs and her shirt sloughed away from her body, leaving her upper half bare.

 

Charizard did not understand why, but this upset Misty more than being on fire.  She frantically clenched her legs together, trying to keep the ruined shorts about herself, and brought her hands to her chest to cover her single pair of budding nipples.  Charizard looked on in curiosity as Misty, in a voice of hysteria, commanded everyone around not to look and continued her vain attempt to conceal her body.  He noted also that the command seemed to have the opposite of its desired effect on the young male trainers around them.

 

Realizing that the attempt was indeed in vain, the panicked girl grabbed the first piece of cover she could reach, that being Charizard’s wing.  She pressed her back against the surprised Pokémon and pulled both wings around his front, folding them over her shoulders like a robe.  In discomfort at the unusual bend of his appendages, Charizard was pulled to the outskirts of the gathering by Misty’s urgent strides, waddling along awkwardly to avoid stepping on the human’s slender legs. 

 

Once away from the crowd, Misty eased her grip on Charizard’s wings, realizing that she could not hold both them and her shorts.  Charizard ‘graciously’ reached forward himself to hold his wings for her, freeing her to take her shorts.  Unbeknownst to her, there was little generosity about this move—Charizard was sick of having his arms pinned to his sides with his elbows scraping against his sensitive wing membranes, and if he was going to be used as clothing, he might as well minimize the discomfort. 

 

The pair met up with Ash and Brock minutes later.  The two boys expressed concern for Misty’s wellbeing, their sympathies, and more than a little awe that the normally moody Charizard was being so accommodating.  The big lizard rested his chin on Misty’s head as she talked with her compatriots, listening with disinterest as they made a plan.  She didn’t seem to mind.  To Charizard’s surprise, he realized that he didn’t mind the predicament either.  The little human’s smooth back pressed against his chest while his arms incidentally embraced her as they gripped his wings.  Charizard was hugging her snugly by the time Brock suggested the idea that perhaps Charizard was strong enough to fly Misty back to the Pokémon Center so she could put on new clothes.  The boys would stick around here, ostensibly to give Misty time to change, although Charizard could tell that his Piss-Weedle trainer just wasn’t nearly ready to leave yet. 

 

Ash was careful to rephrase the suggestion as a praiseful request, honoring Charizard for being strong enough to do this task.  While his flattery was transparent, the hint of begging in Misty’s voice when she echoed him was genuine.  So, saving Misty from many miles of hiking mostly naked, Charizard nodded acquiescence.

 

Leaving the gathering had been a chore, as Charizard knew he would need a longer running start so he could handle the extra weight when taking off.  Some of the more perverse trainers had already gathered around, the less subtle ones openly gawking as they tried to catch a glimpse of his cargo.  He’d solved the problem by facing the tree line as far from the main congregation as possible, taking twenty steps back, then unleashing a Flamethrower before him to make sure all the little Piss-Weedles stayed back.  Only at that point did he unfurl his wings, slide an arm under Misty’s legs and scoop her up.  Looking Misty in the eye and sharing a nod to confirm that she was ready, Charizard ran forward and hurled the two of them skyward.

 

Moments into the flight it was clear that Charizard had his work cut out for him.  The distance between him and the human city was as long a distance as he’d ever flown, and the added burden he carried was a third of his own weight.  He wasn’t fresh for flying either.  But of course he couldn’t let Misty see him strain, lest she think him weak.  He flew on, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as his wings warred with gravity to keep airborne.  Making matters worse, it wasn’t long before a turbulent patch of air blew off the mountains, buffeting him.  Charizard focused on summoning greater strength from himself.  Misty must have noticed that conditions were not ideal.  “You can land and rest if you want,” she said in a sympathetic tone.  That angered the fire Pokémon.  Permission?  And what would a skinny little human know of the difficulty of flying anyway?  Charizard was strong, and could fly far.  What was worst was the sympathy. One does not feel sympathy for the dominant predator—he should be feared.

 

For a moment, Charizard hated the girl for her human arrogance.  While humans controlled most of the world through artifice, none could go toe to toe with Charizard.  Yet Misty envisioned her place in the world as being above his own, Charizard thought bitterly.  That should have been obvious to him, given that she had used him in lieu of a shirt.  Glancing down, he noted that she was hugging herself against the cold.  It was too much for Charizard to be insulted by a mere human, especially such a skinny little one who couldn’t even stay warm. 

 

Charizard then had an epiphany.  He had given too much to the girl, and she had forgotten to fear him.  But what if it was all part of his plan?  And as he thought through it, everything fit.  Burning Misty’s clothes had been intentional, and done with incredible deftness—he’d managed to catch all three pieces just so, without even looking.  And of course, he hadn’t been struck dumb at the sight of Misty burning; he’d just waited a moment, allowing his fire to do its intended work but still making himself the hero.  Letting himself be pulled around like a robe by the frail human wasn’t meekness; he’d been enjoying himself.  And now, as part of his brilliant plan, he was flying away from everyone with the nearly naked human cradled in his grasp, disarmed by the belief that landing on a secluded plateau not too far off was a brilliant decision allowing him to rest and her to keep her privacy from anyone who might wish to take advantage of her predicament.  The perfect plot.   Charizard smiled, reassured now that he was indeed still in control, the dominant predator… as Misty would soon be reminded.  And once again, the dominant predator would take what he wanted.  He wouldn’t be returning to his Pokéball dissatisfied after all.

 

The landing was a hard one.  Breaking free from the wind with considerable forward and descending momentum only to land on unyielding granite forced Charizard to stagger forward or otherwise drop his precious cargo.  When the two had stopped moving, he allowed Misty to disembark, setting her feet gently on the ground.  He noted that her shoes were pretty much the only clothing that remained intact, and could see that she was thankful for them, given how rough the gray stone beneath them was. 

 

Misty took a step away, still holding up the remains of her shorts with one hand while the other remained wrapped about her.  Ignoring the girl’s insulting encouragement to take as long as he needed, Charizard focused on examining her.  By his terms, the human was scrawny.  Yet he could see that the muscles beneath the pale, cold-prickled skin of her back were reasonably toned.  And though she hadn’t been able to resist the cold, she had borne it without complaint.  While she certainly wouldn’t be a fight, but Charizard was forced to reevaluate his former appraisal, deciding instead that Misty was alright for a young human female. 

 

A thin trickle of saliva slipped past Charizard’s lower lip, forcing him to reflexively flash his tongue out to catch it, and informing him that his anticipation was growing urgent.  How will I take her, he asked himself.  A stride forward now, and then a claw into the waistband of the back of her shorts, a sharp tug, and a pull of her hips?  Perhaps rather than taking her upright, he should force her onto all fours, or even press her face to the ground to further show his control.  Or should he press her back to the stone and take her forwards as the jagged ground ruined the smoothness of her back?   Again, the fire Pokémon licked his chops.

 

In the time her fate was being deliberated upon, the unwitting Misty had cautiously approached the edge of the plateau and was looking out at the world below.  Feeling giddy about what was to come, Charizard decided to be playful.  He approached her quietly from behind and gave her a tiny shove forward with his snout.  Misty yelped and jumped back from the edge, ungracefully tripping and nearly falling into his wing.  With a throaty chuckle, Charizard wrapped the startled human up in his wings as he had before, securing her snugly, and turning away from the ledge.  Misty relaxed in the warmth and allowed herself to be guided her back to the center of the plateau. 

 

“Thank you for flying me back,” Misty said, quietly because they were so close together.  Charizard grunted back, and craned his neck to put his head next to hers, resting on Misty’s shoulder.  This position allowed Charizard to get a better feel of Misty, rubbing his neck against hers.  Additionally, sliding his head forward made a downward tilt natural, so he came to be resting his chin over Misty’s collarbone. 

 

Allowing his wings to part slightly, the amorous lizard took a peek at the human who was pressed against his body.  The view was dominated by the subtle protrusion of Misty’s teats, peaked with small, round nipples of a slightly darker tone.  Between and beyond, he could vaguely observe the lines of abdominal muscle, several faint horizontal ridges bisected by a fine vertical cleavage, and near the bottom a small hollow.  Unfamiliar with mammalian anatomy, Charizard found himself fascinated by differences from his own.  The curious little button seemed the perfect imperfection for the girl to have on her smooth belly.  The gentle rise of Misty’s chest as she inhaled drew attention back to the gentle swellings upon it.  They looked so soft, so delectably pliant.

 

All of these observations were made in mere seconds, yet Charizard realized his attention had become conspicuous when Misty tensed, her arms reflexively trying to hide her nudity but being held in place by his own.  He continued to look, reveling in Misty’s growing discomfort as the awareness of her predicament entered her mind.  Misty’s body responded before she could: despite the warmth within Charizard’s wings, the prickles returned.  The human’s contracting skin tickled the Pokémon’s where it touched the wing membranes.  Staring at the girl’s chest, Charizard was reminded that Vulpix’s nipples had also hardened when he took her. 

 

The combined thrill of the memory and his present predicament left Charizard salivating again, and a drop of spittle escaped his mouth.  Because of their closeness, Charizard’s reflexive tongue thrust brushed over Misty’s neck, startling them both.  He was shocked to realize that he’d tasted her.  He had; below the acrid taste of burnt clothing, Misty’s taste was unmistakable.  It tasted like… Misty.  There was no other way to think about it.  Misty’s taste matched her perfectly.  And while Charizard wasn’t especially fond of the taste itself, he found himself immediately coveting more.  Again, he rasped his tongue over her, more deliberately this time, tracing along her collar bone and up the side of her neck to her ear.  The girl let out a high-pitched whine of protest and tried to pull away.

 

Charizard submitted himself to the thrill, imbibing Misty’s essence with wanton abandon.  As she struggled futilely against his embrace, he lapped unperturbed along the lines of her neck.  Each sense sang a song to Charizard.  His mind danced with the taste of Misty, the plaintive sounds of her struggles, the sight and feel of her muscles straining beneath her soft skin as she pressed against him seeking escape, and finally her smell.  Tongue withdrawing, Charizard continued to draw his face over the squirming girl, nuzzling as if the scent were a buried treasure and his snout a spade. 

 

A deep, shuddering draw up Misty’s back placed Charizard’s muzzle against the nape of her neck.  His jaws parted slowly as he bore down, pressing almost tenderly around until they gripped firmly.  Misty would not be able to extricate herself, thus Charizard’s hands were free to roam.  Released from his clutches, the dragon’s wings billowed back to their more customary posture.  The hands that had grasped them now pressed against fair skin.  Palms followed the curvature of the girl’s lean midriff, tracing slowly, and feeling out each curve.  They outlined the shape of her pelvic bones along the line of her ruined shorts, before tracing back upward, to the base of her rib cage, the bone arches easy to feel just below the delicate exterior, then up further, pushing along, to cup—

 

With a desperate cry of “STOP IT,” Misty swung her fist over her shoulder, striking her assailant in the lower jaw.  Both froze immediately.  The blow inflicted very little pain, but nonetheless, Charizard was impressed.  He need only clench his jaws, and a twist of his powerful neck muscles would end the frail human.  She knew this, yet still had the spirit to resist.  Misty’s will, she had proven, would not be easy to break.  That would make it all the more thrilling for Charizard when he did.  He licked her again, within the confines of his mouth.  Though the girl would never know, there was a hint of genuine affection in that lick, for her resistance would make this all so much sweeter.

 

If Misty could endure pain, then so she would.  Charizard bore down with his grip, enough to cause Misty to cry out and raise her arms to try and protect her neck.  Unattended, Misty’s shorts slid an inch down her legs, hanging loosely.  With the screaming girl’s arms prying uselessly against his lips, Charizard easily slipped his claws into either side of the garment.  In a swift motion, he ripped it apart, tossing the scraps to the side. 

 

Releasing some of the pressure of his mouth, Charizard took hold of Misty’s waist with his arms, drawing her against himself.  He could not see his target around Misty’s body.  As Misty began to sob, Charizard pushed blindly against her, sliding between her legs, dragging along the smooth skin to emerge in front.  Though he had not sunk in as intended, the truth was that he could have satisfied himself where he was.  Misty’s thighs were so warm, softer than fur or down, and they squeezed him just right. 

 

But of course Charizard wouldn’t stop there.  He’d set out to take her fully, and so he would.  While only his very tip had fit into Vulpix, he anticipated far fuller enjoyment of Misty.  Drawing back and pushing upward with more force, he felt his tip slip back past her pelvic bone and press against her mound.  There he was, at the very entrance to Misty’s warm cunt.  He jammed his hips up hard, felt it begin to press inward at the cleft between those heavenly legs, and Misty screamed in pain.  Yet as Charizard pressed harder, he slipped forward again, again meeting the cool air in front of the shaking girl’s body.  Somehow, his entrance had been obstructed. 

 

One hand left its position on Misty’s waist to investigate.  Sliding down, he felt only more flawless skin until he reached her hip, and then he felt it: another piece of clothing that Misty wore, seemingly only to cover this part he so eagerly sought.  It was thin, easily missed by feel, especially for a thick-skinned Pokémon.  Savoring his anticipation, Charizard slipped his reach lower, to just above Misty’s shaking knee, then curled his touch to the inside of the human’s warm thigh, caressing slowly, inch by inch, until his digit met fine fabric, and briefly rubbed against it, stroking the mound underneath.  Once more, Charizard lapped at the back of the girl’s neck.  Misty moaned in protest, as if praying that her little undergarment would baffle her molester and protect her hidden treasure. 

 

Without breaking contact, Charizard slid his hand back up to where the curves of Misty’s abdominal muscles gave way to her pelvis, stroking them gently.  Then he slipped a claw inside the band of Misty’s panties, just to let her know he would not be deterred.  Immediately, she grabbed his wrist, shoving him away, struggling desperately to preserve her last line of defense.  Slowly pushing back, Charizard’s arm overpowered Misty’s, inching ever nearer to her body.  She brought both arms to his one, and for a moment held, until Charizard slid his other hand down, again placing again one digit gently inside the elastic, inviting Misty to resist.  Frantically, Misty matched her limbs to his, but this was not a struggle she could win.  Both arms reached Misty at the same time, one slipping into her waistband from above, while the other entered from below, along her leg. 

 

Misty broke down sobbing as she realized her inevitable defeat, the strength in her arms dissipating completely, intermittent pleas of, “No” dimming to shrillness even as they escaped her lips.  With a slow and deliberately drawn out motion, Charizard pressed his hands to Misty’s most intimate places and noisily tore her underwear apart, baring her completely.  With no further patience for foreplay, the dragon used his hands to pry apart the girl’s legs and hoist her hips into alignment with his own.

 

The first thrust sunk Charizard several inches into Misty.  He roared out, feeling his pulse beat within her warm body as she screamed.  Penetrating Misty more deeply than he had Vulpix only thrilled Charizard to further immerse himself, his tapered tip preparing the way for the greater girth behind it.  As each exquisite millimeter of Misty’s cunt stretched and rub past, Charizard realized that the greatest of his sensations emanated from the underside of his dick, when it pressed hardest against the front wall.  Trying to amplify the feeling, he tilted the still screaming girl closer to his chest and into a more vertical position, continuing his own push in a forward direction, so that he slid up and in, grinding within her as much has he could. 

 

Before sinking all the way to his base, Charizard bottomed out, reaching the deepest of Misty’s depths at the same time that it felt like Misty could stretch no more around his width.  The impact was not gentle, and Misty spasmodically jumped, her reflexes granting her one last attempt at getting away.  She rose, her rapid jerk straining against Charizard’s iron grip and nearly clearing his penetrating penis, only to be thrown back down upon it even more forcefully.  Charizard grunted, having just experienced nothing shorted of the greatest thrill of his life.  While this motion of withdrawing and reinsertion was not instinctual to him, the tactility of it went miles beyond what he had been able to experience with the little fox. 

 

Knowing that he would not last much longer, but desperately desiring more of this wondrous friction, Charizard changed his grip on Misty again, letting her neck go, while wrapping his arms around her body, with one hand crossing her chest from below her arm and holding her at the shoulder, the other traversing her midriff to grip at the hip.  His own cheek pressed against her neck, opposite his hand, leaving Misty enveloped in a harness of the Pokémon’s strength. 

 

Charizard began to fuck Misty in earnest, forcing her to repeat her motion of upwards, slipping back out, then down again until it felt as if the two were conjoined.  Lust seized hold of him, and he pounded away relentlessly.  Reality narrowed to only the points of contact, and time seemed to stretch.  The girl’s resisting body slicked up, only furthering the dragon’s ability to jam into her.  The ecstasy welled up within Charizard, preparing to burst free.  He held onto it for another sweet instant, refusing to let it go for as long as he could.  And then Charizard’s eyes rolled back, as he plunged in one last time and exploded within Misty. 

 

In the midst of a sensory glow warmer than the hottest flame, Charizard held Misty to himself, panting as his body finished depositing its warm gift, then slowly released the pressure in his loins, causing his cock to slip out the warm tunnel it had so pleasurably ravaged and disappear back into his cloaca.  Only then did he allow his partner to slump limply to the ground. 

 

She looked wonderful.  Wonderful it seemed, was what Charizard’s mind renamed terrible.  Misty was a mess.  Her hair was singed from the fire and tussled from rubbing his snout, and her face was puffy and red from bawling, and still she continued to sob, her eyes downturned, and sending more tears trickling down her cheeks.  Charizard realized that he must have been rough with his grip.  Red abrasive marks highlighted the places he had put his hands on the girl.  Her snatch looked so dirty, with his fluids coating the periphery, and what looked to be a small amount of blood mixed in.  Though this briefly concerned him, he considered that since it was the least prevalent of fluids seeping from Misty, she was not hurt severely.  She would be feeling this for a while though, that was for certain, and not accidental.  Charizard was the dominant one, and now Misty knew it.

 

All that remained was to close this little episode.  That, however, was an element that had not been considered before opening it.  Charizard experienced a moment of uncertainty.  If he took Misty straight back to the Pokémon Center in her current predicament, undesirable questions might be asked.  As he considered this, he chanced to see Misty look up towards him, and he saw in her a similar spark to the one Vulpix had shown before her introduction to his throat—she was not completely beaten yet.  Singed, bruised, scratched, raped, and now starting to shiver from the cold, Misty still had spunk.  Charizard felt guilty—not for having used her as he had, of course, for that was his prerogative—but for having thought so little of her prior to bringing her up here.  Still, her resistance would need to be quashed, and unlike Vulpix, her silence would not be bought with intimidation.  No, Misty would need to take some ownership of this little adventure.  The perfect answer appeared in Charizard’s mind. 

 

With a deliberately disdainful disregard of Misty, Charizard heaved a large boulder to the middle of the plateau.  Then he wrapped it in a Fire Spin, holding out the flame as long as his breath lasted.  Three times he did this, until he was confident that the rock was hot to the core, and would remain so for as long as he would be gone.  Then he turned to the cliff edge and jumped off, in the direction of the Pokémon Center.  He left her there.

 

Unencumbered, Charizard flew quickly, able to glide most of the way back.  They’d been closer to the Pokémon Center than he and Misty had thought when choosing to ‘rest’ on the plateau.  Of course he could have made it back without a rest.  He hoped the girl would notice that detail when he returned her.  The detour had been purely for his indulgence.

 

When he landed near the front entrance of the Pokémon Center and stepped through the automatic sliding doors, he was met with some confusion.  The local Happy Nurse, who seemed to work at every Center everywhere, did not initially understand what Charizard wanted.  It took the mediating assistance of the attendant Chansey to communicate that Charizard was in fact a Pokémon of one of the trainers staying at the Center, and was trying to acquire a change of clothes for one of said trainers, due to a mishap.  Once convinced that this wasn’t some wild Pokémon trying to steal food, or some malicious trick between trainers, Happy Nurse was delighted to show Charizard to his trainers’ room and pull out an extra set of Misty’s clothes for him to take.  She sent him on his way, lauding his helpfulness and his loyalty to his trainer, and assured him that she would tell Ash what a dear his Pokémon was.  If she only knew…  Charizard’s smirk stayed plain on his face all the way back to the plateau.

 

During the flight back, Charizard decided his course of action.  In all likelihood, this would be his last opportunity to have Misty.  He would make it count.  Before, he had been so excited that he’d rushed.  This time, he would not.  Of his three breeding experiences, each had been better than the one before.  This time must be even more so.  This time, rather than forcing his pleasure from his mate, she would have to work to please him. 

 

All was as expected upon the dragon’s return.  Misty had crawled towards the hot rock, and as it cooled, huddled closer until she was able to touch it without getting burned, and was now pressed against it, as if cowering from Charizard before he even arrived.  He wondered which the child had feared more when he left her there, abject and destitute: that he wouldn’t return, or what he would do when he did. 

 

When he approached her, clothing in his hand, he saw her eyes come into focus.  He stood over her, and held out the clothes just outside her reach.  When she reached for them, he jerked them away, and took a step back.  He looked at her expectantly.  “Please,” she said, barely above a whisper, arms still outstretched.  He didn’t move.  Misty fought to her feet with obvious difficulty.  Between the rough treatment that her body had received, and its desperate desire not to part with the warmth of the rock, Misty barely made it to her feet.  “Please,” she squeaked again, fighting back a sob to reach out for her clothes.

 

Charizard took two steps backward, waved the clothing through their path of eye contact, and then belched a gout of flame over his shoulder.  He then held up the clothes to the side, and turned his face towards them.  “No, please!” Misty managed to shriek this time.  The threat was clear: he would burn the little rags.  Misty looked at Charizard closely, desperately trying to understand what the dragon wanted.  An understanding passed between Pokémon and human: whatever Charizard wanted, he would have.  He lowered the clothing from his line of fire, and cast a deep grin at Misty. 

 

Taking an exultant step forward, Charizard approached Misty.  She shrank before him.  He circled, examining his prize, sniffing at her occasionally and delighting in the way she flinched every time.  How tempting it was to tackle her to the ground and ravage her.  He circled partway farther so that his neck reached around to the front while the bulk of his body would prevent Misty from stepping back.  He pressed his nose at the juncture of the girl’s tightly clenched legs, feeling the tickle of the tiny hairs that grew there. 

 

He looked up to see Misty’s head turned off to the side, looking far away, while her arms hugged her chest.  Charizard would not allow Misty to keep herself from him, so he circled fully to face her.  He sniffed hard at her cheek.  She flinched again, but still she looked away over his shoulder.  Tracing his snout down the side of Misty’s face, he brought his lips to her throat, while simultaneously bringing a hand to the back of her neck.  Charizard took Misty’s windpipe into his jaws, and held her so she could not pull away.  Both of the girl’s hands jumped from her body to hold the dragon’s mouth open.  The hands were not strong enough to stop him, and both knew it. 

 

It was so hard for Charizard, so very tempting.  His plan was to mate with Misty again then return her to the Pokémon Center.  He was going to make her ride him, watch as Misty gripped his phallus and positioned herself to straddle it, see it disappear into her.  He would watch her face as she forced herself to rise and fall upon it.  When he finally finished, which he did not intend to do quickly, he would keep her there and watch himself soften and withdraw before he let her dress.  That was the plan.  But with tender flesh in his mouth, his predatory instincts craved release.  He’d imagined how it would feel to tear out a throat many times.  As Charmelion, he’d wanted to do it to Pikachu, not out malice, but to make the statement to the Piss-Wheedle.  As Charizard, that wouldn’t make much sense—he was much larger now, and it would be much more practical to take the Pipsqueak’s whole head into his mouth, have one little crunch and done.  Or he might be able to swallow the mouse whole and wriggling if he tried.  Misty’s throat was the right size though.  Charizard kneaded it with his teeth, one eye locked with hers.  She was afraid, and knew herself to be powerless, but she wasn’t ready to be done.  For all the temptation, Charizard wasn’t ready to be done with her either.  Better prizes awaited.  That didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge this desires a little though.

 

Releasing his grip, Charizard took a half-step back and let Misty breathe and rub at her neck.  In less than the blink of an eye, he snaked his head forward at her chest, and seized the flesh of her breast in his teeth.  The girl screamed, especially when Charizard pulled back with a firm grip.  He kept his teeth clenched, gnawing lightly enough not to break the skin, but only just.  He continued until Misty stopped any futile resistance.  Feeling playful, the fire Pokémon spent the next minutes circling Misty and putting his mouth on her.  He only bit hard where clothing would cover, returning especially to her breast.  He liked biting her there.  But only the one—he also liked seeing the contrast of one soft and pale and unblemished, while the other bore the marks of his teeth.  He liked biting from the side at her waist too, seeing how much of her narrow body he could fit between his jaws. 

 

Charizard took Misty’s arm in his own, and brought her hand to his mouth, lusciously licking her fingers, savoring how she’d taste, before pulling the hand into his mouth.  Then he pulled in a little more and a little more.  Vulpix’s head had been where Misty’s hand now resided.  Feeling the stir of arousal, Charizard used the leverage he had on Misty’s arm to force her to bend lower.  He reached for her other arm, and placed her hand flat upon his belly, and pressed her to rub slowly in a circular motion. 

 

[At this point, I intended to do a rewrite.  First, I meant to depict Charizard guiding Misty to massaging his cloaca until he became fully erect. From there, the sex scene was meant to have Misty on top, with eye contact.  If possible, I wanted the scene to give the impression that Charizard gave Misty the reins on rhythm and generally put a lot of the burden on her, forcing her to take some of her emotions she might have felt only towards him onto herself.  A hint of tenderness in the aftermath would seal the deal.  The return to the Pokémon center would have a short scene showing that Misty did indeed intend to keep this incident to herself.]

 

[Below is the original ending I wrote, which I found dissatisfactory, but kept until I had something better to replace it with.  Glad I did, I guess.  This ending would pick up just before Charizard put Misty’s arm into his mouth.]

 

Then he stepped past her, and reclined against the rock, sitting up with his lower body straight, tail extending forward between his legs.  Charizard curled his tail gently around Misty’s ankles, enjoining her to turn about and face him.  Then he looked her in the eye and nodded her towards him.   Come hither little one.

 

He would make her ride him.  He would as he softened and popped out.  Only then would Charizard allow Misty to put her clothes on and fly her back to the Pokémon Center.

 

Hugging herself tightly, visibly reluctant, Misty answered the summons.  She approached in mincing steps until the toes of her shoes just brushed Charizard’s inner thighs.  Pleased with how the girl had presented herself, Charizard didn’t make her stand under his gaze too long before extending his hands to her.  With Misty’s palms trembling over his own, he drew her down to himself, setting her kneeling on his thighs.  Her downcast eyes could not hold his.

 

Then he set her hands on his body.  With a facial gesture, the fire Pokémon instructed his lover to touch, to massage, and to caress him.  With his one hand resting on the wad of the girl’s clothing next to him, Charizard continued with his direct stare.  He would give the faintest downward flick of his snout, and direct Misty to move her touch lower, ever closer and more intimate.  Her eyes grew distant, as if she were mentally retreating from this.  Charizard decided to allow it.

 

Eventually, she reached his slit.  Her hands were so close to her own body now that she had to reach under herself, and could hardly rub the reptilian genitalia without also rubbing her own.  A slight growl denied her permission to change position. 

 

Under Misty’s shy ministrations, a hint of red began to peek out.  Slowly, ever so slowly, the ruby meat emerged.  Larger it grew, snapping Misty back to reality as it poked her pubis in its upward reach.  She immediately froze, transfixed by the sight of the powerful organ briefly prodding her tenderness before slipping off to continue its ascent.  When Charizard’s pride stood in its full glory, the tip pressed against Misty’s belly just below the outline of her ribs.  The dragon couldn’t help but smirk as he watched the emotions play across the girl’s face as she fathomed what she had just had inside her.  And you’ll have it again soon, my dear.  

 

Charizard tensed the muscles near his penis, bouncing it and smearing the thick fluids that coated it across Misty’s pale abdomen, and demanding that she give it the attention it was due.  Timidly, Misty complied, sliding one hand to the base, shuddering as her finger first brushed against the rosy appendage.  The hand crept up, one finger at a time sliding onto the shaft, and following it upward.  Last her thumb curled in, so that the very tip was in contact.

 

Charizard bobbed his head slowly up and down, exaggerating a heavy breath each time, conveying to Misty what he expected her to do.  Misty began to cry again, but she obeyed.  Following Charizard’s pace, she worked both hands slowly down.  At the base, her small hands could barely reach around the thing.  A small growl directed her to squeeze tighter.  That felt good.  Twice more, Charizard directed her to massage his length. 

 

Then he brushed her hands aside, and with some lifts of his hips, he instructed her to massage him with her body.  It thrilled him to watch her cringe as her genitalia brushed his, and to see himself measured out against her.  He could see exactly how deeply he could penetrate her.  The motions Misty made as her labia kissed the dragon’s meat mimicked those she would do when it was buried in her.  Charizard realized he was teasing himself by having her continue this way.  He could not wait any longer, lest he risk wasting himself across her chest.  That would be a shame.

 

Reaching out to cup both buttocks roughly, Charizard lifted Misty, pulling her nethers against his one more sweet time, before standing her up.  He was sorely tempted to throw her back down upon himself, to drive as hard as he could, slam into her without regard for her pain.  But that was not the plan.  He compromised by pulling the girl in and treating himself to a few good licks between Misty’s now open legs, imbibing her taste at last. 

 

Tongue still pressing, Charizard turned his gaze upward to lock with Misty’s.  It’s time now, little one. Misty shivered as Charizard leaned back and his hands slid from her rump down her legs, and up his own, and splayed to present his monstrous maleness to her.  It stood boldly, twitching with his heartbeat, waiting.

 

Misty’s knees bent slowly as she squatted down, lowering herself to Charizard.  When she finally dipped enough to brush against the Pokémon’s tip, she jerked herself away wincing, her whole body trembling.  Again, the girl sank down, and again her body protested.  With a piteous wine that sounded to Charizard close to a moan, she fixed him with one last look, begging him to relent.  He licked his lips and waited for her to continue.

 

A pleasant pressure stimulated Charizard as Misty tried to put more weight onto their union, but her mistreated body resisted further penetration.  She pulled away, and then tried again, trying to slowly bear down and ease herself onto it, her shaking becoming more pronounced. Charizard had to resist the urge to thrust each time—the shallow penetrations of Misty’s failed attempts teased him so. 

 

The strength of the girl’s legs gave out before the Pokémon’s self-restraint.  Misty’s knees buckled suddenly.  She fell straight down, and Charizard’s was once again plunged deeply into her.  So thoroughly was he embedded that he wondered if the fall had been halted by the girl’s hands slapping his thighs, or by the impact of his flesh against her deepest, or by the sheer friction of her tightness around him.  It seemed as if her whole body was supported upon his mighty pillar, and her nether lips were fully agape as they stretched around it.  A purr of pure ecstasy escaped Charizard, and mixed with Misty’s sharp outcry of pain.

 

The couple stayed unmoving for a time, each fighting to gain control of the powerful sensations that wracked them.  When their eyes met, Misty’s were so full of tears that Charizard wondered how she could see.  But she saw his grin, bashful that she had been able wring such pleasure from him as to make him purr.  He leaned in and licked the tears from one cheek and then the other, showing a calculated measure of tenderness.  Then he leaned back and waited for Misty to continue.  With a few sharp breaths, she did, lifting herself several inches, and then down once more with a little whimper at the bottom.  The girl continued, up and down, making Charizard’s breaths speed to match hers, and again she let out a slight yelp when impaled to her fullest.  Again, and Charizard’s tongue began to loll from his mouth.  And as Misty continued, she seemed to wince less, and to pick up speed.  Now it was Charizard grunting as she pressed herself down onto him, and he couldn’t help bucking back up into her as she came down.  When his climax came, it took all of Charizard’s control not to roar so loudly that the entire trainer convention would hear.

 

If Misty had looked “wonderful” before, now she was marvelous.  As soon as Charizard’s eruption began, she slumped forward against him, glassy eyed and trembling from pain and cold and exertion.  He let her remain that way, pressing against his warmth as the last of his seed trickled into her, and his well-sated cock slackened and withdrew.  When Misty’s tremors had subsided, he stood the two of them up, supporting Misty.  He helped her clean herself; she had earned that much.  He licked the scrapes, the cuts, the dirt from her face and hair, and despite some resistance, he licked her snatch clean too.  Then he allowed her to dress and flew her back to the Pokémon Center. 

 

Somehow, the flight back seemed so much easier.  The sun was warm, the wind was at his back, and the girl he held in his arms now knew who the dominant predator was.  All was right in the world.  Upon seeing him return with the hapless trainer fully clothed, Happy Nurse immediately began to gush about how long a way the expo was from the Pokémon Center, and great it was that the trainers had a strong Pokémon like Charizard who could help them out when they got in trouble.  Charizard ate it up.  Misty received all of Happy Nurse’s compliments nodding in feigned enthusiasm, but speaking little. 

 

When Ash and Brock returned around sundown, Misty had already locked herself in the bathroom, cried herself out, and showered.  Charizard was lounging on the floor of their room.