The Calm Before the Storm
The world slowly swam back in to focus, and I felt the ground return under my feet with considerable relief.
For one terrible moment, a period of time that I know now could never have been measured by any instrument currently available, we had dangled over the edge of infinity. You may think that I'm simply being extravagant in my terms. Trust me, looking down at our galaxy is not the most settling feeling imaginable. It only got worse as the galaxy shrank and was joined by many others.
"We're here," Arceus announced unnecessarily. The others released him hurriedly. I took a few more moments, waiting to make sure the world would stay put before I tried to ride it.
'Here' turned out to be a crumbly room, with a door leading further inside and a door leading into twilight outside. I could hear the crash of waves against rocky shores, and realized that we were actually at the Sky Pillar. Arceus had traveled several thousand miles in a heartbeat's time!
"So this is the Sky Pillar," Cynthia mused, having come to the same conclusion. "I can't say that it looks like much."
"It's the traditional home of Rayquaza, who is not known for his housekeeping skills," Arceus explained in a dry tone. "He has given it over as the... lobby, I suppose you could call it... for this little gathering. He's an old acquaintance of mine, and perhaps closer to our side than we might know."
"Why's that?" Cynthia asked. Arceus shrugged.
"Technically, it was a unanimous council decision to move the competition up two months. It was also, theoretically, a unanimous council decision to turn the 'hearings' into a tournament. Both decisions were pushed by Rayquaza, which means either he wants to get us a fair shot, or he's hoping we'll land on our face. I'm not sure which, but I'm guessing," and he emphasized the last word "that he's on our side, discretely. If he is, then there may be others that are on our side, but are just waiting for us to prove it to them."
"So this thing is just a formality," Miranda said.
"Not really. I mean, yes, it certainly does have that possibility, but I don't think so. I think the majority of the neutrals are just thatâ�"neutral. We'll need to work hard to prove our case with them, but once it's proven, we'll be safe."
"And we'll get back Cammy," I added darkly. On my shoulder, Venus nodded firmly.
"And we'll get back Cammy," Arceus agreed. "Have trust in me, Zach. No harm will come to your friend because of the help you are giving me."
"It better not. Otherwise, certain smart-alecky godlike pokémon will be seeing stars." Pause. "Like Elvis. Dead ones."
"I sincerely hope you are referring to Darkrai, Chosen. Otherwise, god-"like" may not be quite..."
There was a sudden rumble interrupting our half-serious, half-joking banter. Behind us, the floor fell away. The floor beneath us began to give way as well, and we started to bolt for the far wall. We just barely made it to safety as the rest of the floor fell down into darkness.
"Remind me," Arceus panted, "to suggest a good architect to Rayquaza when next I see him."
"Gladly," I replied. "Preferably one that uses, I dunno, mortar?"
We made our way through the succeeding rooms with great care after that. Some of them were equally dangerous, while others seemed almost modern in construction.
Eventually, we came to a landing which seemed fairly sturdy. We sat to rest, Arceus seeming as winded as the rest of us.
"You know," I wheezed, looking over at him. "I always assumed--*gasp*--that immortal meant untiring, too."
"We godlike beings get tired, too," Arceus commented, with a slight catch in his voice. "The last time I got really tired, I took a short 2,000 year nap, to be honest."
"A nap."
"Well, it certainly didn't feel like a full night's sleep. Now that, that I last did, um... you don't have units to describe it. It was very, very long ago."
"On the seventh day?"
Arceus gave me a look, and shook his head in mock disgust. "Humans," he scoffed. "It took far, far longer than seven days to build all this." He thought for a moment. "It took about, oh, sixty four million years or so to create the environment to be ready for a new universe, among other things."
"Hope you got a per diem."
At that moment, our banter was interrupted again, this time as we turned a corner and ran smack into another falling floor. This time, however, it was falling from above us, and as I looked up into the hole left behind, I spotted a face I recognized.
Back when I was training Milotic, I commented that many Coordinators were intimately familiar with the species. Get your mind out of the gutter; I mean that we all study Milotic in the hopes that we'll train one someday, and in the near certainty that, if nothing else, if we get high enough in the Beauty Contest ranks, we'll face one. This means that we all know their moves, their various features, though some of us slept through the class where we found out what they evolve from.
Another pokémon frequently identified as a possible contender for Milotic's title is Altaria. The half-dragon is neither rare nor difficult to train, bonding quickly with a trainer and loyal until the very end, andâ�"some religions theorizeâ�"beyond. In fact, so struck were some of the ancients by the looks of Altaria, that its appearance is widely regarded as having been the inspiration for modern-day angels, based on Altaria and their early prehistoric trainers using Fly.
Anyway, however flimsy that story may seem, and whatever its veracity, I recognized Altaria instantly.
"What was that for?" I asked the blue face grumpily. All I got back at first was humming, and then the sound began to modulate into words. Into song, more precisely.
"Get out, get out, get out before he sees you; get out, get out, get out before he hears you; get out, get out, get out before he smells you; Rayquaza comes and he'll EAT you!"
"Doubtful," I told it. "We've got an invite, see." I jerked my thumb at Arceus. The blue head followed the motion, and then fell through the hole in shock.
"Greetings, great one, I see you," she sang. (Not literally, this time; I learned later that the song she'd sung was one she'd practiced and used many times, and so was prepared for. Apparently, she hadn't prepared one for meeting Arceus himself, however.)
"Hello," Arceus smiled. "I am addressing... Cirrus, I believe?"
The bird preened and fluffed her wings. "You do, great one," she replied.
"A pleasure, as always. Zach, this is Cirrus, one of Rayquaza's assistants. She keeps the mortals from entering too far into the tower and stumbling into the other world."
"I see. A valuable service," I noted. The bird preened some more, then fluttered close.
"Who is this one?" she asked Arceus. "I like him. Can I keep him?"
*He's already taken,* Beni surprised me with a growl. Apparently I wasn't the only one surprised, as the Altaria fell again, this time almost to the floor.
"A human and an Arcanine," she trilled. "How funny!"
"Quite satisfactory, actually." I allowed myself a disdainful sniff. "And I... we... didn't ask your opinion."
"Calmly, Zach," Arceus soothed. "Calmly, Beni. She didn't mean anything by it. She rarely does." This last added in a somewhat acerbic tone.
"Yes, don't mind me," Cirrus agreed equably. "I'm mostly fluff upstairs anyway." She fluttered close again. "I could be a much better piece of fluff than that... dog... could be, though."
"Maybe some other time." Arceus was diplomacy itself now. "At present, we must ascend to uppermost level, as you well know, Cirrus."
"Of course. Go right on ahead." She sang several short notes. "The floors will allow you passage now," she declared finally. "Enjoy your visit!"
"Airhead," Beni grumbled aloud, padding after me. There was a short burst of notes, then one small stone fell out of the floor beneath Beni, causing her to stumble slightly. "Clever airhead," she amended grudgingly.
We emerged at last into a large, open-aired stadium. I gaped at the size of the thing: it was larger by an order of magnitude than the largest pokémon stadium in the world, and far larger than the tower should have been. Arceus caught my stare and laughed delightedly.
"Welcome to Safe Harbor," he said with a grin. "The home of all unaligned and unaffiliated immortals. You didn't think we were going to stay in the tower, did you? It's just a portal into the afterlife, like Pokémon Tower in Lavender Town formerly, the Celestic Village Ruins, or Half-Moon Island. All of those lead (or led) to different parts of the afterlife, but Sky Pillar leads directly to here, which is why we were to go there. The afterlife is much bigger than your world, and to travel between where those other entrances lead and here would have taken weeks, even for me."
My mind froze at the idea of Arceus, who could travel from the Ranger Academy in Kanto to the Sky Pillar in Hoenn in seconds, having to take weeks to get anywhere. Arceus shrugged and began to walk away, forcing me to catch up.
"Weeks?"I asked.
"Fairly close. Safe Harbor sits exactly central in the afterlife, while all the other major hubs are at the extreme far ends of this world."
"Arceus!"
Arceus glanced up as a woman called his name. He smiled and nodded his head. "Glad to see you made it, Sara," he replied. "How's your husband?"
"Fine, fine," the woman replied in an offhand tone.
"He's in the lobby right now, in fact."
"Interesting. I wouldn't think he'd have anything to do with this sordid little affair."
"What, and miss the opportunity for scandal, chaos, and blood?"
"True," Arceus replied. He shook his head. "I must get Zach here registered. I'll visit with you two later."
"Of course," came the languid response. "Good fortunes, Creator."
Arceus didn't explain the meeting, but simply led us further across the stadium to a large line. It was hard to keep from staring. Most of the world's most prominent trainers were here. I had to try, though; they were all watching me, and be damned if I was going to look like some country hick visiting the big city for the first time...
Even if that's what I felt like.
The line parted for our escort, and Arceus marched straight up to a young, human-looking creature wearing a sports coat and fedora. I say "human-looking," because it was clear that the appearance was the only resemblance.
"Homunculus," Cynthia whispered in quiet aversion. "I thought they were only legends."
"Affiliate, unaffiliated, or observer?" the homunculus asked in a tone infused with boredom.
"Affiliate. Arceus," Arceus declared. "Zachary Winton-Kincaid."
"Registered. Up the hallway and to the right."
I stared. The entire fate of the world, up the hallway and to the right? Talk about your anticlimax.
Or so I thought. Turns out the real anticlimax was the way the tournament was structured. I had expected something fairly biased, with humans being given distinctly second-rate treatment. Well, if this was second rate treatment, I mused, staring around at the rooms I had been assigned, I wouldn't know what to do with first class.
To start with, the fixtures were gold. Ivory and marble lined practically every sold surface, those surfaces not encrusted with gems or mother-of-pearl inlay. I was terrified to even touch the bed, an edifice of gilt and lace which seemed somehow too fragile to support its own weight, let alone the two people it was quite evidently designed for.
"It really won't break," Arceus commented. I looked up, embarrassed, from where I'd begun to roll out my sleeping bag.
"I still don't want to deal with 'You break it, you bought it.' Forget a lifetime, it would take more lifetimes than a Buddhist sinner has to clear that debt."
Arceus shook his head in amusement, but didn't press the point. To be honest, I would have been far more comfortable with a spot of floor in a Pokémon Center; more often than not, I'd slept there or in a tent anyways, on the road.
"You are actually in the second seed. You get a first round pass, so you don't have to deal with the traditional battle portion. You'll begin with the second phase, which is being termed a Survival Game." He grimaced. "Darkrai always did have a nasty, devious mind. I hesitate to consider what she's planned."
"The entire thing is nasty and devious. Why should the second phase be any different?"
"Fair point," he acknowledged. "Still, it's not just Darkrai that this tournament has to satisfy. Most of the neutrals are just thatâ�"neutral. Having a completely self-serving test is no real test at all. She will not win any converts that way, so the others must have seen some potential that we're missing."
"Does it matter?" I asked. "All I have to do in the end is win, right?"
"I just hope it's that simple."
And with that, Arceus left me alone with my thoughts. I toyed with the idea of summoning Beni or one of the others, if for no other reason than to seek comfort in their presence, but discarded the idea at once. I needed to think, and think hard.
After so many months of training, I was finally here, at the site where the future of mankind would be decided by judges only vaguely familiar. Would it be enough? I hadn't really known how to train, in the end, and so I had settled for simply exaggerating my own natural tendencies, and some of those tendencies had been for leisure. Should I have used that free time for more training?
"Of course not," I declared suddenly, as if the sound of my own voice would bring me out of my melancholy. "We needed that time. People can only work at peak performance for so long without rest, even if they have a good reason not to rest. It was necessary."
Somehow, it sounded somewhat like whistling in the dark. Increasingly, I found myself growing angry. Angry with Darkrai, angry with myself, angry with Arceus especially, and then, strangely, even angry at my team and my companions Cynthia and Miranda.
The tiny suitcase-like device Miranda had taken charge of at the beginning of our journey began to vibrate. The BC-1 wanted my attention for a moment.
"Battle Computer, Model One, active," it announced in a synthetic voice when I opened it. "One report to make."
"Report?" I asked. "I haven't requested anything..."
"Unnecessary. The Battle Computer, Model One, active operation procedures are to observe and maintain records of all exterior stimuli, and to report on critical elements without orders. This unit has detected sufficient hazard to make such a report."
Interesting, I thought to myself. Well, the whole situation was hazardous, no doubt about it, but I wondered if maybe the computer was detecting something I didn't know about.
"Report, then."
"Confirmed. Report contains information of a sensitive nature. Caution: revealing information in an unsecured environment may be to the detriment of personnel. Requesting authorization to report."
I recognized that phrase. "Is the risk personal or professional?" Translation: will it harm me, or the Rangers, to have this report?
"Personal."
"Authorization granted. Please report."
"Confirmed," the computer replied tonelessly. "This unit's integral sensors has determined that the subject is under severe stress and is showing signs of depression in a manner statistically sufficient to undermine standard behavioral patterns. This unit recommends immediate repair of the flawed internal circuitry of the subject."
"And what is the subject?"
"Subject is querant."
Me? "I don't have internal circuitry."
"Subject has internal processes which represent the organic equivalent to subject's standard life form."
Somewhat sarcastically: "Any suggestions on how to 'repair' the 'flawed internal circuitry' of a human's emotions?"
"Research indicates that human emotional states can be assuaged by catharsis."
Intrigued in spite of myself, I asked, "What is catharsis?"
"Multiple definitions. Beginning numbered list. One, purgation. Two, elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression. Three, purification or purgation by means of art or spiritual consultation."
"Number three's right out," I noted. "I don't have time for art, and spiritual consultation these days is likely to just whistle up Arceus again. No good."
"Subject's record suggests that definition two would be most appropriate."
"And what 'complex' do you suggest that I have."
"Subject's record and this unit's internal sensors suggest that subject is angry and depressed. Conjecture: Research suggests that the purgation of the latter may be achieved by the expression of the former."
"So, if I allow myself to get angry, I'll stop being depressed. Very helpful. Any other suggestions?"
"Records show that subject has captured a Mismagius. Query: Is this accurate.?"
"Entirely accurate."
"Scanning... objective confirmed. This unit recommends immediate summoning of the aforementioned pokémon for therapeutic purposes."
I stared at it, and apparently interpreting my silence as being the conclusion of our discussion, the screen when blank.
"Battle Computer, Model One, Unit One, entering inviolable standby mode."
Neither button press nor voice commands had any effect on the black screen, and so I simply hoped I hadn't broken it. Nonetheless, I packed it away carefully before considering its last suggestion.
Why Wendy? If it were just a matter of talking out my problems, Beni would have done as well. Or Lorelei. Heck, even BC-1 could have done that much, if I were prepared to endure the toneless synthetic voice. Which, as it happened, I wasn't.
But Wendy... well, she was a relative unknown. I had only really dealt with her on the mission to retrieve Cynthia, and while we had worked together well enough during that, I hadn't spent much of an effort to get to know her. A failing, I suddenly realized, brought me closer to those trainers I had always despised, the sort who use their pokémon as personal weapons in a fight, not partners at all. I became instantly determined to remedy that.
"Go, Wendy!" I said, tossing the pokeball on the bed. It landed with a light thud on the comforter, and sprang open, eventually revealing the Mismagius, facing away from me.
"Hello," I said. It jumped, then turned to me.
"Mismagius..." it crooned. I swear, it seemed almost pleased to see me, and then, suddenly, it blurred, and instead of a floating ghostly pokemon, a purple, ghostly girl in a witch's costume was floating there.
"Wendy?" I asked, shocked. She nodded.
"This one hopes the master is pleased," she said with a voice that even sounded sepulchral.
"Impressed, to say the least." I turned away for a moment to think. Though at first I thought only Ditto can change forms, then I recalled (barely; it's been a busy year) an episode of Professor Oak's radio show in which the concept of transformation was discussed. Professor Rowan, as a guest, had said that certain pokemon retain physical forms as much for convenience as any physiological necessity. For such species, transmutation of elements and forms is a simple exercise of willâ�"mind over matter, if you will.
I glanced back to the bed, only to find Wendy gone. I looked around and found her again. She was kneeling at my feet, hands in her lap, staring vacantly at the wall behind me. "Um..." I began. "Why are you doing that?"
"This one wishes the master to use her in any way he desires," she responded. "This one chooses this position to best express her role and purpose in this world."
This would require some adjustment. To date, my experiences with Beni's maturity, Cammy's eagerness, and Venus's half-shy adolescent nymphomania, had none of them prepared me for the concept of a womanâ�"er, pokemonâ�"willing to completely subordinate herself to me. To be honest, it was intimidating in a way that Beni's most authoritative tones could never have hoped to match.
"Is this because I slapped you, back there?" I asked.
"This one is pleased that she was found worthy of the master's discipline," she replied, not really explaining anything.
"I don't understand."
"This one was without a master when the master met her. The master's discipline during the fight demonstrated his dominance over her, and this one desires that he retain his dominance in all matters. This one exists to serve the master, in all respects. This one does not exist, except at the will of the master."
That went beyond intimidating, beyond scary. It fell into the "downright weird" category I generally lumped things like men wearing bras and women with whips into. Of course, this gave me a bit of an idea.
"Stay there," I told her. She froze instantly. I glanced at her occasionally as I made my preparations, realizing with a shiver that she wasn't even breathing. Of course, being a ghost, she didn't have to... but it was one more way in which her behaviors were completely alien to me.
While the room that I was lodged in seemed in all ways a veritable treasure trove of antiques, it still had network cable port, and the BC-1, though more sophisticated than your average laptop, still retained a useable web browser. I started searching for things which would explain Wendy's sudden... eccentricities. What I found out pretty much rocked my mind. It turns out that certain people, men and women, find it comforting, even arousing, to subjugate their will to someone else. Something called S&M seemed to be related: whether it meant sadomasochism or slave-master was up in the air. Either way, it was confusing. Still, I'm human, and there's a certain part of meâ�"that part, for example, that had just leveled a good portion of a high-security prison in Sinnohâ�"that enjoys the feeling of authority. Well, let's be honest: dominance. The feeling of being in utter and complete control of a situation is addictive, if rare. The main problem with it, for someone with a conscience, is the sensation of hurting someone else.
At least, I considered as I researched further, that wouldn't be a serious problem. According to other searches I performed, Ghost types in general, and Mismagius in specific, are virtually impossible to seriously injure. The popular theory, which I suspected had its root in Rowan's statement on the radio show, argued that they lacked a rigid protoplasmic structure, and so any part of them which was in danger of being hurt simply... migrated somewhere else until it was safe, which meant, ultimately, that I had the freedom to allow my darker side free rein if I wanted to. And that was, as they say, the $64,000 question. Did I want to?
I took a fairly deep look into my soul, winced, and decided that, yes, I did want to. I would find it pleasant. Not the hurting part, of course, but I'd already established that she couldn't really be hurt, but the dominance. Control had been an element distinctly lacking in my life over the last year. Not to say it hadn't been fun sometimes, especially when the control had been Cammy's or Beni's, but...
Ah, yes. But, indeed.
I walked back to Wendy. She was still in the exact position I had left her, not even blinking. As I said before, she hadn't been breathing, either.
"Let me get this straight," I said, giving her one last chance to back out. "You want me to use you. Abuse you, to be accurate."
"Nothing the master could do to this one could be considered abuse."
"Nothing at all?"
"This one cannot be damaged, Master."
Well, that's that. Gave her every opportunity to back out. Witness, Arceus, I did try. For some reason, I had the strangest impression of laughter. Must have been my own imagination.
"Let's get started then." A thought clicked in my head, recalling some of my research.
A brief exploration of the bathroom turned up a number of devices I decided I really didn't want to know the purpose of, along with the desired rope. I shook my head as I closed the cabinet door. Immortals must get bored with regular sex fairly quickly, if that was standard issue for these rooms. If it wasn't, I hoped I wouldn't meet the usual resident of my current chambers.
Wendy still knelt in the exact position I'd left her, right down to the angle of her head and shoulders. As nearest as I could tell, she hadn't even breathed. The power was a bit scary, really, but also a bit exciting. I think everyone, deep inside them, longs to control something, if not someone.
Clearly I wasn't losing my mind: I was rationalizing fine.
The absolute frozen nature of her posture began to unnerve me, until I finally grew angry enough to snap at her: "Move, dammit!"
Then I immediately felt embarrassed, as I saw her face flush in upset. Then I glanced down and saw a glistening puddle on the floor. It was maybe the size of a quarter, but apparently, she was enjoying this despite my concerns. Well, different strokes...
I winced mentally at the pun my scattered brain presented, and filed it away in case I ever got truly annoyed with Arceus. Puns are worse than insults, to my mind.
I started to tie her up in one of the intricate methods I'd seen in a magazine, but gave up after nearly tying my own arm to her. Instead, I wound up wrapping the rope around her torso twice, once above her breasts, and once below them. As an added touch, I lifted the front of her skirt, and wrapped the rope a couple of times around that before tying one arm behind her.
I left her standing there a moment as I undressed, then sat on the bed just looking at her. Silhouetted by the lamp, she looked unearthly, her transparent purple glow casting an odd shadow on the floor. The puddle had also grown slightly, and as I watched, another drop of her arousal spilled.
"Come here," I ordered her finally, when my own need became too strong to ignore. She floated towards me, then knelt at my feet as she had earlier.
"Yes, Master? This one wishes to please as she may."
"Good. You'll have your chance." I was surprised at the gruffness in my tone. I almost smoothed it out of my next words, but since she seemed to like it that way...
"Blow me, then."
The first hint of surprise. "Blow?"
The human shape had suckered me for a second. "Are you still a virgin?" I asked her.
"Virgin?"
I heard a sudden click and a whirring noise. Then: "Battle Computer, Model One, Unit One, activating. Detected query." Then a sudden spurt of noise which sounded like Wendy's normal voice. Then: "Battle Computer, Model One, Unit One returning to inviolable standby mode."
"This one understands now, Master. Yes, this one is a virgin."
I waited for a moment, but apparently the Battle Computer had only defined that term.
"Humans enjoy a form of recreational mating," I said at last, "where the female's genitals are replaced by the female's mouth."
Blank stare.
"I would like you to do that."
Blank stare. Oh, right: "I order you to do that."
"Yes, Master,"
Wendy leaned forward, and with her hands still tied behind her back, sucked my cock into her mouth. Her inexperience was obvious, I thought, as was the fact that I had grown far too accustomed to Cammy or Venus's spoiling. Still, what she lacked in skill, she made up for in enthusiasm, or at least thoroughness. Then she leaned forward and pushed down, and my entire length was inside her mouth. The feeling was incredible, like being inside Venus's false maw, but without the (though somewhat abated now) fear of teeth. Her tongue glided across the bottom of my shaft, hitting all the best spots by apparent accident.
"Bob your head a bit," I hissed, biting my lip.
She complied, and the motion began to take its toll on my stamina. I felt myself rapidly reach the peak under her learning grasp, and put my hand on her forehead to push her off.
"Use your hand."
Instantly, she grabbed my manhood and began to stroke it. Clearly a fast learner, there was no sign this time of her inexperience. I felt my loins surge as the first few drops of cum dribbled out, and then the pressure broke free as streams of cum landed on her face and chin. She looked almost surprised for a moment, then her face fell back into what I realized, in my post-orgasmic haze, was a carefully arranged blankness.
After I recovered, I picked her up and tossed her on the bed. It wasn't as bad as it sounds-- being nearly weightless, she almost floated down to rest face down on the bed. I then began to explore my latest treasure, hidden beneath the rear of her skirt. That, I pulled up and told her to hold with her bound hand. She did so at once, without objection. I was beginning to realize that Wendy was serious about saying that nothing I did would be wrong!
Especially after I got a good look at her cunt. "Dirty girl," I murmured, seeing her soaked thighs. "You came just from that?" She stiffened-- at the disapproval in my voice, I thought. She didn't yet have the ability to tell my jokes from serious irritation.
I stuck a finger inside, testing. I was blocked about halfway to the second knuckle by something that felt like what a hymen should feel like. Virgin indeed. Apparently, when she'd picked her girl form, she'd duplicated that part, too. I was surprised.
"Why did you copy that?" I asked. Her response was muffled, but understandable.
"This one copies all external parts," she explained. "The original owner of this one's appearance was voiding her bladder."
"Pissing, you mean. You copied the appearance of a girl peeing outside?"
"Yes, Master."
Apparently, a virgin, too. I shook my head in bemusement. Well, whoever had owned the form previously, it was as much Wendy's as hers now.
Her hymen yielded a bit as I pushed the finger in, so I decided that between that and her own obvious arousal, no further preparation was needed. Besides, she *had* said that nothing I could do would hurt her.
My cock went in the first two inches without trouble. I braced myself, then pushed hard, popping her cherry and sinking in almost four more inches. Another inch, and I was all the way. Throughout the entire thing, Wendy had done nothing more than adjust her grip on her skirt.
Then I looked down and stared. To my surprise, I could see, just barely, the tip of my own manhood through her back. I moved back and forth experimentally. It was weird, seeing my motions inside of her, but not a turnoff. I began to move faster, watching myself disappear as I pulled out and reappear when I slammed back in. Each motion shook Wendy on the bed, but her posture never changed. Each pump brought my higher and higher, until finally I couldn't take it any longer. Cum shot out of me, and I watched it with distracted fascination as it pooled inside Wendy. It sloshed a bit when I finally pulled out, a process I found riveting as I tried to recover my mental faculties. I nudged her a bit to watch it settle into a new position, then, brought myself back to the matter at hand.
To my surprise, I was still hard. Usually, twice in a row was as much as I could handle, even with the skill Cammy had attained. This left me with a dilemma... since I had exhausted my personal experience with Wendy.
I shrugged. I'm sure you've read as many stories as I have, which is to say, as many as a horny guy with the Internet and complete willingness to visit adult book stores can read. Having had her suck me off, and then fucked her, there was one thing left to do.
The tiny hole was a little closer to her pussy than I expected it to be. To my surprise, given her efforts at expressionlessness, Wendy stiffened as I brushed my finger across it. Then something very like a sigh emerged from her mouth, and she relaxed again.
"So, she does have a weak point," I muttered.
I left her lying there as I went to the bathroom. A tube of lubricant was one of the more innocuous things that I had ignored in the cabinet, but now I had a use for it. I returned to the bed, preparing my fingers with the lube as I walked. Then I sat down behind her and spread her cheeks again.
"Here we go," I announced, the tip of my finger at the entrance. She shivered slightly, then an honest-to-goodness moan emerged as I forced the tip inside. It was a quiet one, clearly torn from her against her will, but a truthful one regardless.
It took several minutes for her to adjust to the width of my finger, but I had patience and she had... if not patience, at least obedience... so I waited until I felt just the slightest easing, then started to push the second one in. Repeat, then the third.
By that point, Wendy had grown accustomed to the invasion, and relaxed. It was nothing like her former nonchalance, however-- her hand was clenching the skirt now, and her other hand was grasping the pillow. I pulled the fingers out and simultaneously saw both hands loosen. She sighed again, almost with regret.
"Here," I said, keeping my voice carefully neutral. I untied the rope, hands shaking, then rolled her over to remove the rest of it. She stared upwards at me, clearly confused. "I want to see your face when I do this," I told her, which didn't help her confusion in the slightest. I shrugged and picked her up, turning so I could sit on the bed.
My cock was already lubed up-- my other hand had not been idle while preparing her-- and so I placed it carefully at her anus. She stiffened, and her hands made spasming gestures towards my shoulders, as if to grip them. I smiled finally. "Go ahead and do what comes naturally. That's an order," I added, necessarily. Her hands immediately flew to my shoulders and gripped. Hard.
Even with the preparation, I was astonished at how difficult it was to get even the tip past the entrance, but eventually, with an almost audible pop, it was in. Her grip tightened even more, then loosened until it was almost a caress instead of a grip. Her previously forced blandness had given way to wide eyes and tight lips, though her tongue was sticking just slightly out of the corner. It was one of the more erotic sights I had ever seen, and the thought that what she felt had to be strong enough to permit her to show it, and that I had caused it, gave me such a jolt of arousal that I thrust my hips without thinking.
Half my rod buried itself in her, and she threw back her head with a shout that was half passion and half astonishment. Her legs came up around my stomach and locked behind my back, then she forced herself further down until I was completely inside her. The cum I had already deposited was sloshing back and forth, dripping slowly down her insides as I watched.
Then I stood up and began to thrust my hips more. With each thrust, she shouted again, louder as I sped up. I could tell that, if she had cum just from sucking my cock, she was about to have the orgasm of a lifetime. Her feet were actually rubbing my back as she tried to force me to move faster, harder.
"Please... Master!" she shouted suddenly. "Please!"
I lost any sense of restraint, hearing pleading from someone who didn't believe she had a right to plead, passion from someone for whom having sex was a way to serve her Master, not something for her own sake. I plunged into her and sharply drew back, forcing all of my strength into each thrust. The shouting had become a continuous, almost deafening howl, until finally the howl broke off into sobs and moans as she reached her limit. Juices literally gushed from her pussy, spilling over her thighs and down my legs to the floor. The sudden heat of her drove me over the top, and I fell backward onto the bed, thrusting to the hilt as my own peak hit.
* * *
Apparently, I blacked out after that, because when I came to, I found a Mismagius lying on the bed next to me. Wendy seemed clearly tired, even with the expressionless face of her kind, and I felt a sort of regret that I knew originated with her, that she was too tired to hold the human form.
"That's fine," I told her. "There'll be other nights, after all."
The regret vanished, to be replaced by a spike of passion from the same source.
"Not tonight, though," I laughed. The statement was marred by a yawn, halfway through 'tonight.' "We're both tired, I think. Let's go to bed." Wendy fell asleep almost instantly, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
In the end account, both Wendy and I had enjoyed what we'd done, and while it was not something I would do to Cammy or any of the others, it was the way our relationship would function. It was the pattern of behavior which Wendy seemed to expect, and said to her that she was loved and appreciated, and so was little different in purpose from the loving hugs and kisses I bestowed upon the rest of my team.
Except Lorelei, I thought to myself. I shook my head to clear it. Firstly, there was no indication that she had any interest. Second...
How does one have sex with a snake? My brain began working on the idea, but it had only gotten to the point of substituting "water serpent" for "snake," and then placing "beautiful" in front of it, before I drifted off into my own slumber.
For one terrible moment, a period of time that I know now could never have been measured by any instrument currently available, we had dangled over the edge of infinity. You may think that I'm simply being extravagant in my terms. Trust me, looking down at our galaxy is not the most settling feeling imaginable. It only got worse as the galaxy shrank and was joined by many others.
"We're here," Arceus announced unnecessarily. The others released him hurriedly. I took a few more moments, waiting to make sure the world would stay put before I tried to ride it.
'Here' turned out to be a crumbly room, with a door leading further inside and a door leading into twilight outside. I could hear the crash of waves against rocky shores, and realized that we were actually at the Sky Pillar. Arceus had traveled several thousand miles in a heartbeat's time!
"So this is the Sky Pillar," Cynthia mused, having come to the same conclusion. "I can't say that it looks like much."
"It's the traditional home of Rayquaza, who is not known for his housekeeping skills," Arceus explained in a dry tone. "He has given it over as the... lobby, I suppose you could call it... for this little gathering. He's an old acquaintance of mine, and perhaps closer to our side than we might know."
"Why's that?" Cynthia asked. Arceus shrugged.
"Technically, it was a unanimous council decision to move the competition up two months. It was also, theoretically, a unanimous council decision to turn the 'hearings' into a tournament. Both decisions were pushed by Rayquaza, which means either he wants to get us a fair shot, or he's hoping we'll land on our face. I'm not sure which, but I'm guessing," and he emphasized the last word "that he's on our side, discretely. If he is, then there may be others that are on our side, but are just waiting for us to prove it to them."
"So this thing is just a formality," Miranda said.
"Not really. I mean, yes, it certainly does have that possibility, but I don't think so. I think the majority of the neutrals are just thatâ�"neutral. We'll need to work hard to prove our case with them, but once it's proven, we'll be safe."
"And we'll get back Cammy," I added darkly. On my shoulder, Venus nodded firmly.
"And we'll get back Cammy," Arceus agreed. "Have trust in me, Zach. No harm will come to your friend because of the help you are giving me."
"It better not. Otherwise, certain smart-alecky godlike pokémon will be seeing stars." Pause. "Like Elvis. Dead ones."
"I sincerely hope you are referring to Darkrai, Chosen. Otherwise, god-"like" may not be quite..."
There was a sudden rumble interrupting our half-serious, half-joking banter. Behind us, the floor fell away. The floor beneath us began to give way as well, and we started to bolt for the far wall. We just barely made it to safety as the rest of the floor fell down into darkness.
"Remind me," Arceus panted, "to suggest a good architect to Rayquaza when next I see him."
"Gladly," I replied. "Preferably one that uses, I dunno, mortar?"
We made our way through the succeeding rooms with great care after that. Some of them were equally dangerous, while others seemed almost modern in construction.
Eventually, we came to a landing which seemed fairly sturdy. We sat to rest, Arceus seeming as winded as the rest of us.
"You know," I wheezed, looking over at him. "I always assumed--*gasp*--that immortal meant untiring, too."
"We godlike beings get tired, too," Arceus commented, with a slight catch in his voice. "The last time I got really tired, I took a short 2,000 year nap, to be honest."
"A nap."
"Well, it certainly didn't feel like a full night's sleep. Now that, that I last did, um... you don't have units to describe it. It was very, very long ago."
"On the seventh day?"
Arceus gave me a look, and shook his head in mock disgust. "Humans," he scoffed. "It took far, far longer than seven days to build all this." He thought for a moment. "It took about, oh, sixty four million years or so to create the environment to be ready for a new universe, among other things."
"Hope you got a per diem."
At that moment, our banter was interrupted again, this time as we turned a corner and ran smack into another falling floor. This time, however, it was falling from above us, and as I looked up into the hole left behind, I spotted a face I recognized.
Back when I was training Milotic, I commented that many Coordinators were intimately familiar with the species. Get your mind out of the gutter; I mean that we all study Milotic in the hopes that we'll train one someday, and in the near certainty that, if nothing else, if we get high enough in the Beauty Contest ranks, we'll face one. This means that we all know their moves, their various features, though some of us slept through the class where we found out what they evolve from.
Another pokémon frequently identified as a possible contender for Milotic's title is Altaria. The half-dragon is neither rare nor difficult to train, bonding quickly with a trainer and loyal until the very end, andâ�"some religions theorizeâ�"beyond. In fact, so struck were some of the ancients by the looks of Altaria, that its appearance is widely regarded as having been the inspiration for modern-day angels, based on Altaria and their early prehistoric trainers using Fly.
Anyway, however flimsy that story may seem, and whatever its veracity, I recognized Altaria instantly.
"What was that for?" I asked the blue face grumpily. All I got back at first was humming, and then the sound began to modulate into words. Into song, more precisely.
"Get out, get out, get out before he sees you; get out, get out, get out before he hears you; get out, get out, get out before he smells you; Rayquaza comes and he'll EAT you!"
"Doubtful," I told it. "We've got an invite, see." I jerked my thumb at Arceus. The blue head followed the motion, and then fell through the hole in shock.
"Greetings, great one, I see you," she sang. (Not literally, this time; I learned later that the song she'd sung was one she'd practiced and used many times, and so was prepared for. Apparently, she hadn't prepared one for meeting Arceus himself, however.)
"Hello," Arceus smiled. "I am addressing... Cirrus, I believe?"
The bird preened and fluffed her wings. "You do, great one," she replied.
"A pleasure, as always. Zach, this is Cirrus, one of Rayquaza's assistants. She keeps the mortals from entering too far into the tower and stumbling into the other world."
"I see. A valuable service," I noted. The bird preened some more, then fluttered close.
"Who is this one?" she asked Arceus. "I like him. Can I keep him?"
*He's already taken,* Beni surprised me with a growl. Apparently I wasn't the only one surprised, as the Altaria fell again, this time almost to the floor.
"A human and an Arcanine," she trilled. "How funny!"
"Quite satisfactory, actually." I allowed myself a disdainful sniff. "And I... we... didn't ask your opinion."
"Calmly, Zach," Arceus soothed. "Calmly, Beni. She didn't mean anything by it. She rarely does." This last added in a somewhat acerbic tone.
"Yes, don't mind me," Cirrus agreed equably. "I'm mostly fluff upstairs anyway." She fluttered close again. "I could be a much better piece of fluff than that... dog... could be, though."
"Maybe some other time." Arceus was diplomacy itself now. "At present, we must ascend to uppermost level, as you well know, Cirrus."
"Of course. Go right on ahead." She sang several short notes. "The floors will allow you passage now," she declared finally. "Enjoy your visit!"
"Airhead," Beni grumbled aloud, padding after me. There was a short burst of notes, then one small stone fell out of the floor beneath Beni, causing her to stumble slightly. "Clever airhead," she amended grudgingly.
We emerged at last into a large, open-aired stadium. I gaped at the size of the thing: it was larger by an order of magnitude than the largest pokémon stadium in the world, and far larger than the tower should have been. Arceus caught my stare and laughed delightedly.
"Welcome to Safe Harbor," he said with a grin. "The home of all unaligned and unaffiliated immortals. You didn't think we were going to stay in the tower, did you? It's just a portal into the afterlife, like Pokémon Tower in Lavender Town formerly, the Celestic Village Ruins, or Half-Moon Island. All of those lead (or led) to different parts of the afterlife, but Sky Pillar leads directly to here, which is why we were to go there. The afterlife is much bigger than your world, and to travel between where those other entrances lead and here would have taken weeks, even for me."
My mind froze at the idea of Arceus, who could travel from the Ranger Academy in Kanto to the Sky Pillar in Hoenn in seconds, having to take weeks to get anywhere. Arceus shrugged and began to walk away, forcing me to catch up.
"Weeks?"I asked.
"Fairly close. Safe Harbor sits exactly central in the afterlife, while all the other major hubs are at the extreme far ends of this world."
"Arceus!"
Arceus glanced up as a woman called his name. He smiled and nodded his head. "Glad to see you made it, Sara," he replied. "How's your husband?"
"Fine, fine," the woman replied in an offhand tone.
"He's in the lobby right now, in fact."
"Interesting. I wouldn't think he'd have anything to do with this sordid little affair."
"What, and miss the opportunity for scandal, chaos, and blood?"
"True," Arceus replied. He shook his head. "I must get Zach here registered. I'll visit with you two later."
"Of course," came the languid response. "Good fortunes, Creator."
Arceus didn't explain the meeting, but simply led us further across the stadium to a large line. It was hard to keep from staring. Most of the world's most prominent trainers were here. I had to try, though; they were all watching me, and be damned if I was going to look like some country hick visiting the big city for the first time...
Even if that's what I felt like.
The line parted for our escort, and Arceus marched straight up to a young, human-looking creature wearing a sports coat and fedora. I say "human-looking," because it was clear that the appearance was the only resemblance.
"Homunculus," Cynthia whispered in quiet aversion. "I thought they were only legends."
"Affiliate, unaffiliated, or observer?" the homunculus asked in a tone infused with boredom.
"Affiliate. Arceus," Arceus declared. "Zachary Winton-Kincaid."
"Registered. Up the hallway and to the right."
I stared. The entire fate of the world, up the hallway and to the right? Talk about your anticlimax.
Or so I thought. Turns out the real anticlimax was the way the tournament was structured. I had expected something fairly biased, with humans being given distinctly second-rate treatment. Well, if this was second rate treatment, I mused, staring around at the rooms I had been assigned, I wouldn't know what to do with first class.
To start with, the fixtures were gold. Ivory and marble lined practically every sold surface, those surfaces not encrusted with gems or mother-of-pearl inlay. I was terrified to even touch the bed, an edifice of gilt and lace which seemed somehow too fragile to support its own weight, let alone the two people it was quite evidently designed for.
"It really won't break," Arceus commented. I looked up, embarrassed, from where I'd begun to roll out my sleeping bag.
"I still don't want to deal with 'You break it, you bought it.' Forget a lifetime, it would take more lifetimes than a Buddhist sinner has to clear that debt."
Arceus shook his head in amusement, but didn't press the point. To be honest, I would have been far more comfortable with a spot of floor in a Pokémon Center; more often than not, I'd slept there or in a tent anyways, on the road.
"You are actually in the second seed. You get a first round pass, so you don't have to deal with the traditional battle portion. You'll begin with the second phase, which is being termed a Survival Game." He grimaced. "Darkrai always did have a nasty, devious mind. I hesitate to consider what she's planned."
"The entire thing is nasty and devious. Why should the second phase be any different?"
"Fair point," he acknowledged. "Still, it's not just Darkrai that this tournament has to satisfy. Most of the neutrals are just thatâ�"neutral. Having a completely self-serving test is no real test at all. She will not win any converts that way, so the others must have seen some potential that we're missing."
"Does it matter?" I asked. "All I have to do in the end is win, right?"
"I just hope it's that simple."
And with that, Arceus left me alone with my thoughts. I toyed with the idea of summoning Beni or one of the others, if for no other reason than to seek comfort in their presence, but discarded the idea at once. I needed to think, and think hard.
After so many months of training, I was finally here, at the site where the future of mankind would be decided by judges only vaguely familiar. Would it be enough? I hadn't really known how to train, in the end, and so I had settled for simply exaggerating my own natural tendencies, and some of those tendencies had been for leisure. Should I have used that free time for more training?
"Of course not," I declared suddenly, as if the sound of my own voice would bring me out of my melancholy. "We needed that time. People can only work at peak performance for so long without rest, even if they have a good reason not to rest. It was necessary."
Somehow, it sounded somewhat like whistling in the dark. Increasingly, I found myself growing angry. Angry with Darkrai, angry with myself, angry with Arceus especially, and then, strangely, even angry at my team and my companions Cynthia and Miranda.
The tiny suitcase-like device Miranda had taken charge of at the beginning of our journey began to vibrate. The BC-1 wanted my attention for a moment.
"Battle Computer, Model One, active," it announced in a synthetic voice when I opened it. "One report to make."
"Report?" I asked. "I haven't requested anything..."
"Unnecessary. The Battle Computer, Model One, active operation procedures are to observe and maintain records of all exterior stimuli, and to report on critical elements without orders. This unit has detected sufficient hazard to make such a report."
Interesting, I thought to myself. Well, the whole situation was hazardous, no doubt about it, but I wondered if maybe the computer was detecting something I didn't know about.
"Report, then."
"Confirmed. Report contains information of a sensitive nature. Caution: revealing information in an unsecured environment may be to the detriment of personnel. Requesting authorization to report."
I recognized that phrase. "Is the risk personal or professional?" Translation: will it harm me, or the Rangers, to have this report?
"Personal."
"Authorization granted. Please report."
"Confirmed," the computer replied tonelessly. "This unit's integral sensors has determined that the subject is under severe stress and is showing signs of depression in a manner statistically sufficient to undermine standard behavioral patterns. This unit recommends immediate repair of the flawed internal circuitry of the subject."
"And what is the subject?"
"Subject is querant."
Me? "I don't have internal circuitry."
"Subject has internal processes which represent the organic equivalent to subject's standard life form."
Somewhat sarcastically: "Any suggestions on how to 'repair' the 'flawed internal circuitry' of a human's emotions?"
"Research indicates that human emotional states can be assuaged by catharsis."
Intrigued in spite of myself, I asked, "What is catharsis?"
"Multiple definitions. Beginning numbered list. One, purgation. Two, elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression. Three, purification or purgation by means of art or spiritual consultation."
"Number three's right out," I noted. "I don't have time for art, and spiritual consultation these days is likely to just whistle up Arceus again. No good."
"Subject's record suggests that definition two would be most appropriate."
"And what 'complex' do you suggest that I have."
"Subject's record and this unit's internal sensors suggest that subject is angry and depressed. Conjecture: Research suggests that the purgation of the latter may be achieved by the expression of the former."
"So, if I allow myself to get angry, I'll stop being depressed. Very helpful. Any other suggestions?"
"Records show that subject has captured a Mismagius. Query: Is this accurate.?"
"Entirely accurate."
"Scanning... objective confirmed. This unit recommends immediate summoning of the aforementioned pokémon for therapeutic purposes."
I stared at it, and apparently interpreting my silence as being the conclusion of our discussion, the screen when blank.
"Battle Computer, Model One, Unit One, entering inviolable standby mode."
Neither button press nor voice commands had any effect on the black screen, and so I simply hoped I hadn't broken it. Nonetheless, I packed it away carefully before considering its last suggestion.
Why Wendy? If it were just a matter of talking out my problems, Beni would have done as well. Or Lorelei. Heck, even BC-1 could have done that much, if I were prepared to endure the toneless synthetic voice. Which, as it happened, I wasn't.
But Wendy... well, she was a relative unknown. I had only really dealt with her on the mission to retrieve Cynthia, and while we had worked together well enough during that, I hadn't spent much of an effort to get to know her. A failing, I suddenly realized, brought me closer to those trainers I had always despised, the sort who use their pokémon as personal weapons in a fight, not partners at all. I became instantly determined to remedy that.
"Go, Wendy!" I said, tossing the pokeball on the bed. It landed with a light thud on the comforter, and sprang open, eventually revealing the Mismagius, facing away from me.
"Hello," I said. It jumped, then turned to me.
"Mismagius..." it crooned. I swear, it seemed almost pleased to see me, and then, suddenly, it blurred, and instead of a floating ghostly pokemon, a purple, ghostly girl in a witch's costume was floating there.
"Wendy?" I asked, shocked. She nodded.
"This one hopes the master is pleased," she said with a voice that even sounded sepulchral.
"Impressed, to say the least." I turned away for a moment to think. Though at first I thought only Ditto can change forms, then I recalled (barely; it's been a busy year) an episode of Professor Oak's radio show in which the concept of transformation was discussed. Professor Rowan, as a guest, had said that certain pokemon retain physical forms as much for convenience as any physiological necessity. For such species, transmutation of elements and forms is a simple exercise of willâ�"mind over matter, if you will.
I glanced back to the bed, only to find Wendy gone. I looked around and found her again. She was kneeling at my feet, hands in her lap, staring vacantly at the wall behind me. "Um..." I began. "Why are you doing that?"
"This one wishes the master to use her in any way he desires," she responded. "This one chooses this position to best express her role and purpose in this world."
This would require some adjustment. To date, my experiences with Beni's maturity, Cammy's eagerness, and Venus's half-shy adolescent nymphomania, had none of them prepared me for the concept of a womanâ�"er, pokemonâ�"willing to completely subordinate herself to me. To be honest, it was intimidating in a way that Beni's most authoritative tones could never have hoped to match.
"Is this because I slapped you, back there?" I asked.
"This one is pleased that she was found worthy of the master's discipline," she replied, not really explaining anything.
"I don't understand."
"This one was without a master when the master met her. The master's discipline during the fight demonstrated his dominance over her, and this one desires that he retain his dominance in all matters. This one exists to serve the master, in all respects. This one does not exist, except at the will of the master."
That went beyond intimidating, beyond scary. It fell into the "downright weird" category I generally lumped things like men wearing bras and women with whips into. Of course, this gave me a bit of an idea.
"Stay there," I told her. She froze instantly. I glanced at her occasionally as I made my preparations, realizing with a shiver that she wasn't even breathing. Of course, being a ghost, she didn't have to... but it was one more way in which her behaviors were completely alien to me.
While the room that I was lodged in seemed in all ways a veritable treasure trove of antiques, it still had network cable port, and the BC-1, though more sophisticated than your average laptop, still retained a useable web browser. I started searching for things which would explain Wendy's sudden... eccentricities. What I found out pretty much rocked my mind. It turns out that certain people, men and women, find it comforting, even arousing, to subjugate their will to someone else. Something called S&M seemed to be related: whether it meant sadomasochism or slave-master was up in the air. Either way, it was confusing. Still, I'm human, and there's a certain part of meâ�"that part, for example, that had just leveled a good portion of a high-security prison in Sinnohâ�"that enjoys the feeling of authority. Well, let's be honest: dominance. The feeling of being in utter and complete control of a situation is addictive, if rare. The main problem with it, for someone with a conscience, is the sensation of hurting someone else.
At least, I considered as I researched further, that wouldn't be a serious problem. According to other searches I performed, Ghost types in general, and Mismagius in specific, are virtually impossible to seriously injure. The popular theory, which I suspected had its root in Rowan's statement on the radio show, argued that they lacked a rigid protoplasmic structure, and so any part of them which was in danger of being hurt simply... migrated somewhere else until it was safe, which meant, ultimately, that I had the freedom to allow my darker side free rein if I wanted to. And that was, as they say, the $64,000 question. Did I want to?
I took a fairly deep look into my soul, winced, and decided that, yes, I did want to. I would find it pleasant. Not the hurting part, of course, but I'd already established that she couldn't really be hurt, but the dominance. Control had been an element distinctly lacking in my life over the last year. Not to say it hadn't been fun sometimes, especially when the control had been Cammy's or Beni's, but...
Ah, yes. But, indeed.
I walked back to Wendy. She was still in the exact position I had left her, not even blinking. As I said before, she hadn't been breathing, either.
"Let me get this straight," I said, giving her one last chance to back out. "You want me to use you. Abuse you, to be accurate."
"Nothing the master could do to this one could be considered abuse."
"Nothing at all?"
"This one cannot be damaged, Master."
Well, that's that. Gave her every opportunity to back out. Witness, Arceus, I did try. For some reason, I had the strangest impression of laughter. Must have been my own imagination.
"Let's get started then." A thought clicked in my head, recalling some of my research.
A brief exploration of the bathroom turned up a number of devices I decided I really didn't want to know the purpose of, along with the desired rope. I shook my head as I closed the cabinet door. Immortals must get bored with regular sex fairly quickly, if that was standard issue for these rooms. If it wasn't, I hoped I wouldn't meet the usual resident of my current chambers.
Wendy still knelt in the exact position I'd left her, right down to the angle of her head and shoulders. As nearest as I could tell, she hadn't even breathed. The power was a bit scary, really, but also a bit exciting. I think everyone, deep inside them, longs to control something, if not someone.
Clearly I wasn't losing my mind: I was rationalizing fine.
The absolute frozen nature of her posture began to unnerve me, until I finally grew angry enough to snap at her: "Move, dammit!"
Then I immediately felt embarrassed, as I saw her face flush in upset. Then I glanced down and saw a glistening puddle on the floor. It was maybe the size of a quarter, but apparently, she was enjoying this despite my concerns. Well, different strokes...
I winced mentally at the pun my scattered brain presented, and filed it away in case I ever got truly annoyed with Arceus. Puns are worse than insults, to my mind.
I started to tie her up in one of the intricate methods I'd seen in a magazine, but gave up after nearly tying my own arm to her. Instead, I wound up wrapping the rope around her torso twice, once above her breasts, and once below them. As an added touch, I lifted the front of her skirt, and wrapped the rope a couple of times around that before tying one arm behind her.
I left her standing there a moment as I undressed, then sat on the bed just looking at her. Silhouetted by the lamp, she looked unearthly, her transparent purple glow casting an odd shadow on the floor. The puddle had also grown slightly, and as I watched, another drop of her arousal spilled.
"Come here," I ordered her finally, when my own need became too strong to ignore. She floated towards me, then knelt at my feet as she had earlier.
"Yes, Master? This one wishes to please as she may."
"Good. You'll have your chance." I was surprised at the gruffness in my tone. I almost smoothed it out of my next words, but since she seemed to like it that way...
"Blow me, then."
The first hint of surprise. "Blow?"
The human shape had suckered me for a second. "Are you still a virgin?" I asked her.
"Virgin?"
I heard a sudden click and a whirring noise. Then: "Battle Computer, Model One, Unit One, activating. Detected query." Then a sudden spurt of noise which sounded like Wendy's normal voice. Then: "Battle Computer, Model One, Unit One returning to inviolable standby mode."
"This one understands now, Master. Yes, this one is a virgin."
I waited for a moment, but apparently the Battle Computer had only defined that term.
"Humans enjoy a form of recreational mating," I said at last, "where the female's genitals are replaced by the female's mouth."
Blank stare.
"I would like you to do that."
Blank stare. Oh, right: "I order you to do that."
"Yes, Master,"
Wendy leaned forward, and with her hands still tied behind her back, sucked my cock into her mouth. Her inexperience was obvious, I thought, as was the fact that I had grown far too accustomed to Cammy or Venus's spoiling. Still, what she lacked in skill, she made up for in enthusiasm, or at least thoroughness. Then she leaned forward and pushed down, and my entire length was inside her mouth. The feeling was incredible, like being inside Venus's false maw, but without the (though somewhat abated now) fear of teeth. Her tongue glided across the bottom of my shaft, hitting all the best spots by apparent accident.
"Bob your head a bit," I hissed, biting my lip.
She complied, and the motion began to take its toll on my stamina. I felt myself rapidly reach the peak under her learning grasp, and put my hand on her forehead to push her off.
"Use your hand."
Instantly, she grabbed my manhood and began to stroke it. Clearly a fast learner, there was no sign this time of her inexperience. I felt my loins surge as the first few drops of cum dribbled out, and then the pressure broke free as streams of cum landed on her face and chin. She looked almost surprised for a moment, then her face fell back into what I realized, in my post-orgasmic haze, was a carefully arranged blankness.
After I recovered, I picked her up and tossed her on the bed. It wasn't as bad as it sounds-- being nearly weightless, she almost floated down to rest face down on the bed. I then began to explore my latest treasure, hidden beneath the rear of her skirt. That, I pulled up and told her to hold with her bound hand. She did so at once, without objection. I was beginning to realize that Wendy was serious about saying that nothing I did would be wrong!
Especially after I got a good look at her cunt. "Dirty girl," I murmured, seeing her soaked thighs. "You came just from that?" She stiffened-- at the disapproval in my voice, I thought. She didn't yet have the ability to tell my jokes from serious irritation.
I stuck a finger inside, testing. I was blocked about halfway to the second knuckle by something that felt like what a hymen should feel like. Virgin indeed. Apparently, when she'd picked her girl form, she'd duplicated that part, too. I was surprised.
"Why did you copy that?" I asked. Her response was muffled, but understandable.
"This one copies all external parts," she explained. "The original owner of this one's appearance was voiding her bladder."
"Pissing, you mean. You copied the appearance of a girl peeing outside?"
"Yes, Master."
Apparently, a virgin, too. I shook my head in bemusement. Well, whoever had owned the form previously, it was as much Wendy's as hers now.
Her hymen yielded a bit as I pushed the finger in, so I decided that between that and her own obvious arousal, no further preparation was needed. Besides, she *had* said that nothing I could do would hurt her.
My cock went in the first two inches without trouble. I braced myself, then pushed hard, popping her cherry and sinking in almost four more inches. Another inch, and I was all the way. Throughout the entire thing, Wendy had done nothing more than adjust her grip on her skirt.
Then I looked down and stared. To my surprise, I could see, just barely, the tip of my own manhood through her back. I moved back and forth experimentally. It was weird, seeing my motions inside of her, but not a turnoff. I began to move faster, watching myself disappear as I pulled out and reappear when I slammed back in. Each motion shook Wendy on the bed, but her posture never changed. Each pump brought my higher and higher, until finally I couldn't take it any longer. Cum shot out of me, and I watched it with distracted fascination as it pooled inside Wendy. It sloshed a bit when I finally pulled out, a process I found riveting as I tried to recover my mental faculties. I nudged her a bit to watch it settle into a new position, then, brought myself back to the matter at hand.
To my surprise, I was still hard. Usually, twice in a row was as much as I could handle, even with the skill Cammy had attained. This left me with a dilemma... since I had exhausted my personal experience with Wendy.
I shrugged. I'm sure you've read as many stories as I have, which is to say, as many as a horny guy with the Internet and complete willingness to visit adult book stores can read. Having had her suck me off, and then fucked her, there was one thing left to do.
The tiny hole was a little closer to her pussy than I expected it to be. To my surprise, given her efforts at expressionlessness, Wendy stiffened as I brushed my finger across it. Then something very like a sigh emerged from her mouth, and she relaxed again.
"So, she does have a weak point," I muttered.
I left her lying there as I went to the bathroom. A tube of lubricant was one of the more innocuous things that I had ignored in the cabinet, but now I had a use for it. I returned to the bed, preparing my fingers with the lube as I walked. Then I sat down behind her and spread her cheeks again.
"Here we go," I announced, the tip of my finger at the entrance. She shivered slightly, then an honest-to-goodness moan emerged as I forced the tip inside. It was a quiet one, clearly torn from her against her will, but a truthful one regardless.
It took several minutes for her to adjust to the width of my finger, but I had patience and she had... if not patience, at least obedience... so I waited until I felt just the slightest easing, then started to push the second one in. Repeat, then the third.
By that point, Wendy had grown accustomed to the invasion, and relaxed. It was nothing like her former nonchalance, however-- her hand was clenching the skirt now, and her other hand was grasping the pillow. I pulled the fingers out and simultaneously saw both hands loosen. She sighed again, almost with regret.
"Here," I said, keeping my voice carefully neutral. I untied the rope, hands shaking, then rolled her over to remove the rest of it. She stared upwards at me, clearly confused. "I want to see your face when I do this," I told her, which didn't help her confusion in the slightest. I shrugged and picked her up, turning so I could sit on the bed.
My cock was already lubed up-- my other hand had not been idle while preparing her-- and so I placed it carefully at her anus. She stiffened, and her hands made spasming gestures towards my shoulders, as if to grip them. I smiled finally. "Go ahead and do what comes naturally. That's an order," I added, necessarily. Her hands immediately flew to my shoulders and gripped. Hard.
Even with the preparation, I was astonished at how difficult it was to get even the tip past the entrance, but eventually, with an almost audible pop, it was in. Her grip tightened even more, then loosened until it was almost a caress instead of a grip. Her previously forced blandness had given way to wide eyes and tight lips, though her tongue was sticking just slightly out of the corner. It was one of the more erotic sights I had ever seen, and the thought that what she felt had to be strong enough to permit her to show it, and that I had caused it, gave me such a jolt of arousal that I thrust my hips without thinking.
Half my rod buried itself in her, and she threw back her head with a shout that was half passion and half astonishment. Her legs came up around my stomach and locked behind my back, then she forced herself further down until I was completely inside her. The cum I had already deposited was sloshing back and forth, dripping slowly down her insides as I watched.
Then I stood up and began to thrust my hips more. With each thrust, she shouted again, louder as I sped up. I could tell that, if she had cum just from sucking my cock, she was about to have the orgasm of a lifetime. Her feet were actually rubbing my back as she tried to force me to move faster, harder.
"Please... Master!" she shouted suddenly. "Please!"
I lost any sense of restraint, hearing pleading from someone who didn't believe she had a right to plead, passion from someone for whom having sex was a way to serve her Master, not something for her own sake. I plunged into her and sharply drew back, forcing all of my strength into each thrust. The shouting had become a continuous, almost deafening howl, until finally the howl broke off into sobs and moans as she reached her limit. Juices literally gushed from her pussy, spilling over her thighs and down my legs to the floor. The sudden heat of her drove me over the top, and I fell backward onto the bed, thrusting to the hilt as my own peak hit.
* * *
Apparently, I blacked out after that, because when I came to, I found a Mismagius lying on the bed next to me. Wendy seemed clearly tired, even with the expressionless face of her kind, and I felt a sort of regret that I knew originated with her, that she was too tired to hold the human form.
"That's fine," I told her. "There'll be other nights, after all."
The regret vanished, to be replaced by a spike of passion from the same source.
"Not tonight, though," I laughed. The statement was marred by a yawn, halfway through 'tonight.' "We're both tired, I think. Let's go to bed." Wendy fell asleep almost instantly, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
In the end account, both Wendy and I had enjoyed what we'd done, and while it was not something I would do to Cammy or any of the others, it was the way our relationship would function. It was the pattern of behavior which Wendy seemed to expect, and said to her that she was loved and appreciated, and so was little different in purpose from the loving hugs and kisses I bestowed upon the rest of my team.
Except Lorelei, I thought to myself. I shook my head to clear it. Firstly, there was no indication that she had any interest. Second...
How does one have sex with a snake? My brain began working on the idea, but it had only gotten to the point of substituting "water serpent" for "snake," and then placing "beautiful" in front of it, before I drifted off into my own slumber.