The girl who needed a Poke'Mon.


A tall woman was sitting upon the side of a bed, silently stroking the bangs of her daughter's dark chocolate hair.

'Dear...' Her soft voice cooed. 'Dear, wake up...'

With a groan, the girl limply struggled under the covers against her immenent awakening.

'Dear, you may be 18, but you still only have half an hour to get ready and go see the Professor.' The mother said, pulling the covers down and letting the cool air flow over the girls exposed skin.

With a grunt, the daughter rolled over, flopping one arm over her bare back, trying to keep the heat. 'Go'way!' She mumbled, the words completely garbled by the pillow.

The mother smiled at her child, then yanked the covers all the way off, sheets and all. With loving hands, she traced the girls slightly twisted form. She departed the room after reverently kissing at the base of her spine.

With a frustrated sigh, the girl pushed her tired form up, and droopily pulled herself off the bed. With slackly slinging arms, she plodded sleepily over to her closet, grabbing the hanging light switch with her teeth. Her head jerked down, and the light flicked on, making her squint even more than she already was.

Raising her right hand up lazily, she gently prodded at her right breast, half heartedly trying to get herself in the mood. With a sigh, she let it fall back to her side. She just couldn't get in the mood. She hadn't been able to by herself since they had moved into their new house a little over a month ago.

All she had been doing lately was eat and sleep. Her body, she noticed, didn't show it though, interestingly enough. With another sigh, she pulled the drawers open, and began chucking things out at seemingly random.

An orange shirt settled over her computer chair, and a pair of red and blue stripe patterned panties followed moments later. A black pair of pants crupled onto the bed, and another shirt, this one a light green, hit the middle of the room in a wadded heap. More clothes flew around the room, all not catching her interest.

A few minutes later, she walked out of the closet, wearing a maroon shirt that was several sizes to large and came down a little past her knees, and black leather sandals.

Without a second thought, she started down the hallway to the top of the stairs.

As she reached the top landing, her mother looked up from the bottom. She mentally sighed at her daughters lack of tact, but smiled anyways.

'Back to your room, misses lazy butt.' She commanded, stepping up the stairs. 'You need more on than that.'

'It's not like they can see anything.' The girl said, not even looking back as she walked into her room again.

'I did.'

'Well, you I don't care about.' She said, a pout in her voice.

'Lesolan, I love you so dearly it makes my heart fit to burst. But you really need to accept that just because you don't care, doesn't mean it won't affect you.' The mother said, gingerly stepping into her daughter room. 'What happened in here? Did a pidgeot burst through the window and use whirlwind?'

'Yeah, yeah. You always say that.'

Lesolan sighed, and flomped backwards onto her bed, kicking her sandals off. The shirt billowed upwards from the sudden vortex in the air, exposing her light mocha body.

Her mother sat down indian style on the bed, drawing her daughters legs over her own. With a slight huff, she pulled her daughter until she was resting with her legs under her shoulders.

Lesolan scrunched forward, aiding the process, and soon her buttocks lay touching her mothers abdoman. Her heart was pounding suddenly, and her breath started coming in short.

Her mother put a palm on each of Lesolan's breats, under the shirt, lightly folding the nipples and squeezing softly. Gently she massaged her daughter's squished mammaries, elicting a moan from her.

Her body struggled for stimulation of a more carnal desire, and without thought, she began to grind her sensitive areas against her mother's stomach. Without realising it, she was soon pressing her legs into her mother's back, trying to press more onto her.

With a laugh resembling tinkling glass bells, her mother let go of her breasts, then calmy flicked her desperate daughters winking vagina. She felt a wet smear on her stomach, and could see the glistening wetness as it dribbled from her daughter.

She grunted as she lifted her daughters hips to her face, then rested her head between the warms thighs. With a wan smile, she lightly kissed the wet folds, then sucked upon the outside, never letting her daughter release.

After a few minutes of this, she stopped and set her dauther down, looking over at the time. With a saddened sigh, she set her daughter down.

'Dear, you have 8 minutes to see Mr. Oak, and be on time.'

'He can wait...' She gasped out.

'He can, but he won't because you'll get there. On time.' She replied pointedly, sifting her fingers through her daughters tangled hair. 'We'll finish this when you get back.'

'HMPH! Fine!' Lesolan pouted, getting up to pull on a pair of gray jeans. 'I wasn't all that worked up anyways!' She lied.

Her mother rolled her eyes in exasperation. 'Whatever you say, dear. All I know is that you were humping me like that one growlithe did in that movie.'

Lesolan glanced over fiercly. 'I was not!'

'Hmhmhm!' Her mother chuckled. 'If it helps you sleep at night...' She let the sentence hang in midair.

'Did not...' She mumbled to herself, zipping up the front.

With a last glance back, Lesolan slipped her sandals back on and ran down the hallway.

'Are you going commando again?!' Her mother shouted after her.

'Of course not, mom!' She yelled back, knowing she wasn't fooling anyone.

Moments later, Lesolan burst out the front door, banging the screen door against the side of the house. She ran at a decent pace along the old dirt path that led through the light forest her house was in back to the main road.

She got to the Professor's lab about 30 seconds short of being late.

Bent over, face flushed, panting, and supporting herself with a hand on her knee, she knocked a few times on the door. After a short wait, one of the reknown Aides opened the reinforced door.

'We almost thought you wouldn't make it.' He said.

'Yeah...' She said, still panting. 'Me too, for a moment there...'

'Well, come on then.' And with that, he swung the door wide, admitting her inside.

As she walked down the hall, Lesolan could hear the sounds of all sorts of different inventions. After taking a few turns in the huge place, the Aide opened a door and waved her in.

'Just take a seat over there.' He said, pointing at a comfortable looking couch. 'The Professor will be with you in a moment.'

'Alright,' she said, turning back around to talk to him.

But he was gone, and when she opened the door to see where he went off to, he wasn't anywhere in sight. It spooked her slightly to notice that there wasn't a turn or a door he could have slipped into for at least a hundred feet. She didn't even think she could sprint that fast.

'Ah, there you are!' A happy voice sounded, nearly startling her out of her skin. 'I've been so excited that I could hardly wait!'

She whipped around to see Professor Oak looking at her, holding a bunch of books and file folders.

'Yeah... so... why did you want me here again?' She asked. 'Nobody really ever mentioned why...'

'It is time for you to get your very own Poke'Mon!' He said, setting down the pile of paper onto a nearby table.

'Uhh...hunh?' Lesolan asked, slightly miffed no one had told her about that.

'A Poke'mon!' The Professor repeated, oblivious of her feelings. 'I got a new batch of them just recently.' He pulled out four Poke'Balls, two in each hand.

'Yeah...' She said slowly. 'You know... I think I'll pass... If you could call up an Aide to show me the way out...?'

'What...?' The Professor asked, put off slightly by her unethusiastic response. 'You don't want one? This is the same set that Ash Ketchum, the Legendary Trainer, chose from when he was just starting out!'

'Yeah, I'd still really rather not...' She said again. 'It's a lot of work to maintain a Poke'Mon. I mean, regular grooming, feeding bills, waste... Economically speaking, it's a drain on the wallet, even the grass Poke'Mon that just sit around like bellsprout.' She shrugged her shoulders in a oh well kind of fassion and turned for the door.

'Your mother said you would say that, but I didn't really believe...' She heard the Professor say as she exited the room.

The same Aide as before was waiting on the other side. His expression was the same dull look as before. 'This way please.' He said, leading the way out.

When they reached the front door, he stopped her as she stepped out.

'You may not think you need a Poke'Mon, but the Professor, the other Aides and I, can tell you right now, you do.'

'Right. Whatever...' Lesolan said, turning around and leaving.

She thought she felt a slight tugging in her hair as she stepped foreward. But when she turned back around to yell at the Aide, the door was already closed.

Must be my imagination, she thought to herself.

When she got back to the house, she sent her mother a death glare then went upstairs, yelling down that she didn't get a Poke'Mon, and she didn't want to continue what they had started before.

Her mother smiled as she saw the small Poke'Ball tied into her daughters hair as she flounced up the stairs in a pissy.

Her smile grew wider when she heard her shriek in rage as an asexual electronic sounding voice announced, quite loudly, that Poke'Mon Trainer Lesolan Brinker, PT Serial Number 6042429587-LB-18j, was now registered in the International Trainer Database.

Seconds later, Lesolan came thundering down the stairs, holding the Poke'Ball with both hands, covering up the scanner and preventing the initial phase of the trainer indoctrination.

'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!?' She yelled at the top of her lungs, nearly spitting.

'I made you a trainer, lovely.' Her mother responded calmly. 'You needed it to get out of your crazy little funk you were having. And you're 18, without any work. This is a simple way to support the family. All you have to do is beat a few people in some tournaments. Easy money.'

'I could... I'm gonna kill it..! And then what would I have to do? Nothing! Hahahah!'

Suffice to say, Lesolan was not taking this news very well.

'Honey, killing a Poke'Mon is illegal, and you know it, and the little chip inside of that Poke'Ball would alert the authorities as soon as its occupant died anyways. And don't think you can tamper with it either. It won't work. I helped make the damn safety structure on it. Those have some scary things, I'll have you know.'

'I... I...' Lesolan hiccuped, breaking down into tears. 'Why do you hate me?!?' she wailed wildly. 'How could you do this to me?!?'

'Oh, honey,' her mother sighed, taking her into her arms and hugging tightly. 'Just like I can do this.' And with that, she pulled Lesolans hands apart, making her drop the 'Ball. 'Have fun!' She called over her shoulder as she left the room, and more importantly, Lesolan, by herself.

The 'Ball clattered on the floor for a moment, rolling to its side. Then a red light flashed from the front, and a loud beep sounded.

'Stand still and prepare for analysis.' It squawked.

'Oh, this is just great.' Lesolan muttered, finally giving in. 'Just freaking great.'

'Voice-print Identified. Trainer confirmed.' It said, this time a bit more shrilly, almost sounding agitated.

Seconds later a holographic list of rules and regulations referring to the proper handling of Poke'Mon, and a brief code of conduct. A question flashed on and off, asking whether she confirmed or denied the rules.

New hope flushed through Lesolan, and so she put her finger through the NO button.

The 'Ball chirped, and new writing appeared on the screen.

WE ARE SORRY TO INFORM YOU THAT THIS OPTION IS TEMPORARILY OUT OF SERVICE.
PLEASE CHOOSE 'YES', AND FOLLOW UP COMPLAINTS AT SERVICE NUMBER# 5864-952-43151.
THANK YOU AND HAVE A NICE DAY!
'Aw, DAMNIT!' She swore vehemently, ready to punch something.

Being the realist she was in the end, Lesolan, after much jaw grinding and world loathing, accepted that she would have to take care of the Poke'Mon.

Then she realised she didn't even know what it was. With a sigh, she picked up the now innactive 'Ball and called half-heartedly, 'Poke'Mon, go...'

It popped open in her cupped hands, and the Poke'Mon flashed into being next to the empty couch and coffee table.

'Bulba!' the little green Poke'Mon called out. 'Bulbasaur, saur!'

Lesolan leaned back and laughed.

It wasn't a 'hahah, funny' laugh, it was a cackle, born of slight hysteria, and dripping of irony. The memory of her saying grass Poke'Mon were the most convenient kept looping through her mind. For two whole minutes she laughed, until she could no longer make sounds but for wracking coughs.

She looked at the Poke'Mon with a heavy gaze, and said, 'Cheap is a relative term.'

With a deep breath and an exasperated sigh, she stood back up and went up the stairs to go to her room, leaving the small plant Poke'Mon by itself.

She waited at the top of the stairs, looking intently at it.

'Are you coming?' She asked impatiently.

'Saur.' It said back, not moving an inch.

'If that's a no, then you can stay there for all I care.' She sniffed back, turning to go. With a last glance over her shoulder, she stalked back to her room.

'Bulbaaaaa!' It wailed pitifully, watching her go.

Lesolan whirled around with a sigh, and came back to the top of the stairs. The bulbasaur was waiting at the bottom step. It was standing on its rear legs, trying to ascend the stairs, but it couldn't get the leverage. The first step was nearly as tall as the Poke'Mon was while standing. All it could really get over was a small part od its stubby arms, and its chin.

With another sigh, Lesolan slapped a hand to her face and dragged it down, cursing the world as best she could. As she finished her mental tirade, she took the steps two at a time, scooped the bulbasaur into her arms, and rushed back up.

Within moments they were in her room. As she closed the door with her foot, she chucked the bulbasaur onto the bed. It bounced once, then fell off the other side with a squeel.

Without looking to see if the bulbasaur was okay, Lesolan flumped onto her bed, pulling the sheets off the floor and covering herself up with them.

Moments later, the litle Poke'Mon, no worse for the wear, trundled around the bed, trying to get up. After a few moments of no success, it sat down and began to call loudly.

Lesolan leaned her head over the side.

'Keep that up...' She growled threateningly.

The poor bulbasaur slicked its ears back, and slinked away from the bed.

'Good.' She said, moving back to the center of her bed, then promptly fell asleep.

It rummaged the room instead, searching for soft things to make a nest out of. Coincidentally, most of that happened to be panties, bras, and sports-wear.

After a few minutes of organising, shifting, searching, and reorganising, the bulbasaur created a nest of clothes near the one window in the room. It was like a cloth bowl, and once completed, it lay down in it, one eye on its trainer, the other closed.

After a while it too fell asleep, and dreamt of whatever it was that depressed bulbasuars dream of.

Later, that night, Lesolan's mother peeked into her daughters room to see how things were going. The lump under the covers wasn't moving, but the little green Poke'Mon was waving its stubby legs in the air, and kept twitching like it was running.

A nagging feeling made her look harder at the bulbasaur, and after a moment or two, she realised the reason.

It wasn't completely green. The large bulb on its back was a healthy forest-green, yes, but the skin was a pale shade, and it faded into a dull blue at its feet. It also didn't show any of the normal blockish markings along its skin.

She smiled when it snuffled at a thong that had wrapped over its head, and could barely suppress her laughter when she spied that the little Poke'Mon's slit was engorged, turning a light shade of pinkish-red. She had to run to her room so she could let it out when the bright, glistening red tip of its member pressed out a few inches, a ropy, purple vein easily visible on it.

A little while later, Lesolan woke with a start.

In her sleep, she had moved to a side of the bed.

Warm, honey scented breath wafted over her face, and she focused her eyes to see the bulbasaur, sitting with the black thong still stuck on its head, ears through the openings.

'ARGH!' She yelled, grabbing at it.

'Bulbasaur!' The Poke'Mon cried, startled by its master's reaction.

It covered its face with its paws and quivered on the floor. A slight rustleing sound was emitted from the large leaves on its back.

'Alright, alright...' Lesolan murmered, picking up her quivering charge. 'I'm not gonna hurt you.'

She pet its head softly, and put it on her pillow. With a groan, she flopped her face onto its side, and nuzzled into its warmth.

She inhaled deeply, and a slight smell of earthy soil and grass that was made right after a light rain settled through her mind. Her thoughts calmed, and after a few more deep breaths, she folded her arms around its soft body in closer to herself.

A few more deep breaths, and she was sound asleep, face still pressed to its side.

With a grunt, the bulbasaur rolled over so that she had her face to its even softer tummy.

Barely had it too gone to sleep again, Lesolan's mother poked her head in the door to see if they were hungry. At the sight, she sighed happily and quietly closed the door again.Chapter End Notes:Now, remember, whatever you comment on here, you can't take off. That priveledge says with me. So if you want to act stupid, and look retarded for all the people out there with access to the internet, go ahead and say something poorly worded. I'm going to leave it up there. Which isn't to say you shouldn't put a negative response. Please, by all means. Leave one. I don't really mind. And if it helps me out, that would even be better. All comments get left up. Unless it is just a bunch of gibberish, lkjbadglbdngbhhhhhhhh, or something such.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, and is applicable for all consecutive chapters that follow.