Arceus Persuades Gently
Story written by Patient
Palinouros character concept by Afterglow Ampharos

    The storm of the night rages on. The waves crash against the rocks around the alcove that a Lugia has taken residence in. Lightning strikes the distant vastness of open ocean now and then, but for the most part, the Lugia’s sleep goes unhindered. That is, until he feels himself growing restless. His large body stirs, tosses and turns in the privacy of the nest he made himself. As if something is gently shaking him, nudging him awake, not forcefully, but enough for even his stature to detect. 

    He had lived this way for a while now. It's the only life he cares to know. This cave acts as the perfect home for the winged giant, and ever since he had taken residence in this small cliffside town, everyone had been kind enough to agree to allow him to live here. They mentioned something about a guardian of the seas, but he wrote it off as superstition when he was making friends with his new neighbors. They seemed awkward around him, nervous, eager to befriend in conversation, but shaky in any close encounters. He just put it up to his size, but surely he wasn't that big, was he? Regardless, whenever the Lugia introduced himself, he had the script in his mind, and he read it loud and clear. "It's nice to meet you. You can call me Paul."

    Paul mumbles softly, groaning as his body finally twitches itself out of its dreams. His body jolts awake, the tiredness surprisingly gone, even his eyelids feeling miraculously light. His eyes lock to the entrance of his personal cave, and the quadrupedal figure that stands in it. His body freezes in shock, but his quivering lips stutter out the words "come in" without him consciously doing so. With this invitation, the figure steps inside, sitting itself next to his broad bedding. It is only then that the first actual consciously-chosen word escapes his lips.
 
   "...Arceus...?"
    The only response is a soft, short laugh. It’s certainly the one he remembers seeing in all religious figures, the golden halo around their torso, the pristine white fur, the gray face that, although always depicted as expressionless, seems strangely... happy, at the moment. It's only after a moment of observation that he receives a verbal answer. Although, the voice doesn't quite come from the being's mouth. Or, any direction in particular. It wasn't telepathy of any sort — the psychic type dragon would surely know it — but it was as if his voice reached him in a way deeper than the mind alone could understand. 

    "...Hm~...? Why are you so afraid, old friend~...? You look like you know me~... We've never met before, so take your time remembering the last time we did. You say my name, but a name that is not mine, as if you only know the one~... I expect more from Palinouros~..."

    The contradiction in the words confuses Paul, and he just... stares, in a moment of wondrous fluster. His tiredness is gone, but his head is swimming with questions that bother him more every second. He pushes aside the mild urge to bow and pray, to speak instead.
     "You, you're Arceus, the big guy above, the creator of time and space, the one who formed the universe with a thousand arms... You are, right...?"

    Another soft laugh. Another moment of silence. Then, finally, some sort of straightforwardness from the figure.
    "You speak of the one others worship. The formless, ancient voice that sung this world into its chorus. The one beyond this realm that neither you nor I can ever reach with our bodies, in the direction we cannot point. This realm is of flesh and blood, built by hands that never bothered with such bindings. I am the one you name, but that is also the one you name. To introduce myself, yes, I am Arceus. But I am the flesh of Arceus. The mortal Arceus. The Arceus that can live, breathe, and die. I return to that veil in my own time, but for now, I am but one hand. A vessel. A nameless one, using only the title given to me. An act of correction and hope, for something that is amiss in the world."

    Paul can only sit in silence, digesting all of the information that’s been thrown at him. That small speech makes his head swim. It was terrifying in a way, but at the same time… It feels as if he knew it all already. As if he’s just being reminded of a truth he was already told before. It takes a fair minute for him to really handle it all, but the last words were the only part that, for some reason, deeply bothered him.
    "...Amiss..? Is something wrong..?"

    Another moment of silence. Another soft, caring expression from Arceus.
    "...You could say such. One could also say that deep down, you already know what is wrong. But you aren't able to quite see it, are you...? Your eyes are clouded, even to your own being…"

    As quickly as he hears the last few words, Paul speaks up.
    "I’m sorry my Lord, but I don't know what you speak of. I'm a humble being, a dragon resident of this cove, I know nothing of anything amiss, unless you mean the berries I borrowed from that Ampharos, I was going to go pick more tomorrow morning—"

    "My 'Lord'… You refer to me as if you're… lower than me in some way..? As if I rule you or claim dominion over you...? Why is that...?"
     The question cuts off Paul's train of thought as quickly as the actual sentence cuts off his voice. He's left nearly speechless. He can’t do much of anything but stare at this figure, Arceus themselves, sitting next to his bed in a relaxed position, asking why he thinks they're God. He can't quite work out an answer to the question, and instead, just gives the next best thing, a question of his own.

     "...Why are you here...?"

    Without hesitation, Arceus answers.
    "To awaken you, of course."

    This only serves to frustrate Paul a bit, bringing a groan out of him as his eyes squint.
    "Well, I'm awake now, what do you need me for?"

    The response is another soft laugh, before Arceus speaks again.
    "...No… I mean to awaken you. Not to just wake you up. I'm here to lend a hand, in reminding you of who, and what, you are. I've already seen the time and space here, the fabric of this world, the threads of fate itself and every weaving moment that makes up everything around us… and I know that there are only a few ways so reliable of returning to you the senses you so willingly dulled."

    Paul is nothing short of bewildered. The confusion doesn't need to be spoken to be loud and clear to Arceus. Instead of continuing on with the explanation, the figure just puts their front hooves on Paul's makeshift bed, leaning towards the Lugia.
    "...You find yourself entrapped in the charms of mortal life… Tempted once, indulged indefinitely. You have neighbors, friends, family, you have happiness, sadness, enemies, lovers, all so savory to one such as yourself… But a life you aren't meant to have."

    At that point, Paul speaks up again, his voice a bit indignant.
    "Hey! I'm happy like this! I don't… know… what else you want me to do, but I think I'm right where I belong. I don't mean to defy you, but… maybe you're wrong…"

    The expression on the vessel of Arceus' face is surprisingly neutral, causing Paul's sudden confidence to waver. He did just look God in the eyes and call them wrong. The longer that is allowed to sink in in pregnant silence, the deeper the pit in Paul's stomach sinks. The heavy silence is finally broken once again.

     "...You ignore that which calls to you. I speak not of my own demand, but the demand of the world. The demand of the creation around you. You won't be happy, or healthy here forever, and you know what you truly crave… Both in spirit, and in flesh. After all, you stand and speak before me, wholly unaware that your dreams were filled with those cravings."

     Paul looks down at his hay bed, groaning a little.
     "What, you can see my dreams now too? I'm not sure you know everything that's up in my head…"

    "I don't need to. Your body tells me everything I need to know. How many Pokémon would wake up with that between their legs, and dare tell me they crave nothing?"
     Paul's eyes jolt down his own body, panic shooting up his spine. Surely enough, morning wood that he didn't have the chance to notice stood tall and proud, the tapered tip twitching with every pulse. His entire body tenses up as he clambers to cover himself, curling his body around itself and holding his wide, flat wings around his figure. His face becomes aflush with humiliation, the fact that he just showed such a lack of modesty to Arceus themselves hitting his composure quite hard. 

    His lips quiver, his eyes dart side to side in their anxiety, but a golden tipped hoof rests on his smooth skin to offer comfort. He was caught like a Deerling in headlights, slowly looking up to Arceus, who is… smiling? At least as well as the gray lines of their face can communicate. Humiliation turns to confusion, but it gives Paul a strange sensation, one where his tension and anxiousness seems to fade away. He keeps himself hidden, but speaks in a voice that is surprisingly calm, especially to himself. At least, for the first sentence or so. Then the mild panic begins to set in.
    "You could have said something… Or, did you wake me up halfway through a dream on purpose...? Or were you the one who made me dream that? Just tell me what you're doing here already, please!"

    Finally, Arceus seems to take pity on him, giving a more direct answer.
    "I'm here to bring you back to your proper position. Lugia. A guardian of the sea, burying himself in the lives of mortals, leaving the vicious waves unsupervised, and on top of it all, you've been doing this so long that you have no damnable clue what I'm talking about, do you, Palinouros?"

    The Lugia flinches, as if the nerve that was being threatened just had a knife dug into it. His stomach sinks further still, though he can't quite understand in his own mind why. He racks his brain for a moment, before a familiar speech comes to mind.
    "...My name is Paul… Pal if we're friends… I'm a citizen of this coastal settlement, and I'm a good, law abiding citizen… I'm… I'm a normal Pokémon like anyone else, not a mythical Lugia, and you have the wrong Pokémon, so find the right dragon and leave me be!"

    He can't bring himself to look the figure of Arceus in the eyes anymore. His eyes are glued to the floor, and his breathing shudders. He shakes his head, his breathing hitching for a moment, his thoughts repeating over and over again, this is who he is, nothing and no one else.

    "...Easy, easy… Perhaps... I may have the wrong Pokémon. It would be such a shame if I did. And here I would be, barging into your home at night, waking you from the depths of your dreams, and leaving you wanting… So, so very rude of me. Perhaps then, I may… offer penance, for my transgressions?"

    Paul is surprised by this, the surprise enough to bring his eyes back up. It comes not just from Arceus backing down so easily, but by offering him something. It feels like he won this encounter, but… perhaps too easily. His anxiety is hardly quelled. He speaks again as his eyes narrow to the holy figure, suspicion being made visibly clear.
    "...What kind of… "penance" are you trying to offer me...?"

    "Why, what else could I offer? You said it yourself, you're happy with the life you have. If I give you glory, fame, fortune, none of it would matter, I'd just be pulling you towards a life you don't want, no?"
    Paul begins to think for a moment, but Arceus quickly continues.
    "...I do believe I could repay this inconvenience one way, however. After all, look at what I've caused for your physical body… I don't know what lusts your mind was indulging in when I woke you, but perhaps I could offer relief for that...? Forgive me if I'm overstepping my boundaries, I saw the discomfort in your eyes a moment ago, but… Unless you can think of an alternative…"

    Paul's mind goes blank. He tries to think, tries to process something, anything he could ask for… The curse of contentment, he thought, or the trouble of being put on the spot like this. He truly can't ask for anything else, but there is a nagging heat in his lower body, and the more his mind considers the offer, the deeper that warmth grows, and the harder it becomes to think about wanting anything else. Is this his own doing, or is this divine being playing with his head? It’s absurd, surreal, Arceus themselves offering such a thing. Just a look at them, laying next to his bedding, so casually, so carelessly, as if they were in the home of a friend that invited them. It feels to him like it should annoy him. Terrify him. Bring him to his knees. But in the same breath… something about it is so strangely appealing… and he couldn't bring his mind to any thoughts but his own lust…

    Letting out a huff of indignation, he rolls his body over suddenly, laying on his back. His wide arm-wing hybrids spread out across the bed and onto the floor. His legs lay spread slightly, leading up to his wide hips, and the erection that stands easily two feet tall, laying against his round belly. His eyes lock on Arceus' face — not so much their eyes, but their mouth, or lack thereof. It's just the gray lines that were always shown. Was it a mask? Was it the reason they never actually spoke, but used some divine form of telepathy? Was there a mouth actually hidden between those lines? He could only think, no better time to ask than now.
    "...I'd tell you to suck it, but… I don't know if—"

    He's cut off from his question when Arceus, perhaps a bit too eagerly, puts their front hooves up on the edge of the bedding, placing their upper body between his legs. Their head hovers over the tip of his length. Maybe he can get an answer after all, without even needing to ask, he thinks to himself. Unfortunately, any answer waiting for him is hidden, when Arceus lowers their head enough for the slight overhang of the top of their head to obscure their face, bar their eyes. Paul starts to open his mouth, to say something, but that's when the sensations begin.

    It doesn't feel real. The warmth, the tightness, the suction, the strange way it slowly moves down his shaft. He can't even see what was happening, but like some kind of perverted party trick, Arceus is moving their head down, inch by inch, and the Lugia's thick, rubbery length is sliding right down what… has to be a throat, right? He can't even tell. There are no obvious teeth, but there is definitely a tongue, and when it wraps around his girth, a shiver rolls up his spine. He's certain that he feels his own precum beginning to all but pour out, but the way that they're constantly sucking and tugging his length means that it gets swallowed down directly from his tip. It feels so unusual, so exotic. He’d had experience with other Pokémon certainly, but this is beyond his imagination, let alone experience. 

    Looking down with a gasp caught in his throat, Paul can't even determine if he's making a bulge in Arceus' windpipe, or if his cock is being sent to some pocket dimension. Regardless of that, his hips involuntarily roll forward, pressing himself against what is there. This is surreal beyond belief for him, and a moment of sobriety from his lust is all it takes for him to appreciate the feeling of what is probably lips pressing against his slit. He has Arceus, creator of all, the Pokémon he had worshipped, given the occasional prayer to, the legendary of legendaries that even other forces of nature feared, kissing the base of his cock. Looking down at them, he can barely bring himself to believe it, even as he watches it in real time. That is, until he places his broad hand on the back of their head. Some form of gears begin turning. Something that was sealed off begins to open. Something feels right.

    He can't really stop himself from pulling their head just a little tighter, jamming that last inch or so down their throat, or whatever he was inside of, and just grinding himself there for a second. The pleasure is too intense. It feels like the first time he'd ever been touched all over again. His fingers relinquish control quickly, but his eyes remain rolled back, his jaw hanging slightly. He had taken control just to immediately give it up again, but he isn't quite brought back to his senses until he hears a familiar voice, once again seemingly speaking directly to his mind in a way oddly different from telepathy.

    "...Is this to your liking...? I hope I'm not disappointing in my payment. After all, I must repay my debt, and only you can tell me when I'm done…"
    Those words are the only clarity in his mind. Once the speaking ends, so too does any comprehension. Paul can't understand why this feels as amazing as it does, but he knows it is more than physical. They don't move their head away from his thick base, but the inside of that ethereal maw feels like nothing he could have imagined. It presses so tightly to his skin, the muscles tensing in rings, before pulling up his length, creating a steady suction that just pulses, up and down, almost perfectly taking the place of the motion-based alternative. 

    It feels almost as if the skin of the hole around him is different somehow, as if it's more than just a simulation of flesh and muscles. It feels like the burning in his body grows deeper and deeper, and soon, the truth becomes clear. It isn't just pleasing his body. His very soul is being overwhelmed with pure lust, but the entire concentration of it is two feet deep down a holy vessel's throat. All of this had taken place in a matter of seconds, and in total, he hasn't even been in this state for very long at all. But, when he looks down, trying to muster a response, all he can manage is forcing a single word out of his throat. It sounds deep, guttural, something that didn't even feel like him speaking. 
    "More…"

    It isn't a question. It isn't a humble request. He is owed a debt, and the part of him that embraces this, that part demands that that debt be paid, making that demand while looking Arceus in the eyes, even while they kept their magic trick of a mouth hidden. 

    Arceus doesn't say a word.

    Instead, one tongue becomes two. Two become four. The walls surrounding Paul's cock squeeze ever tighter, and the real estate for oral capacity quickly begins running out. This is resolved when two of the long, thick lengths of tongue seemingly escape against the base of his cock, but even when he looks down, the view is still obscured. Strangely, it becomes even more confusing whether the tongues are actually there or not, especially when he feels one pressing against his skin, harder, and harder, until… it slips inside of him. Or rather, through him. Through the very physical manifestation of "him." How it is happening feels downright strange, but any question he thinks down to Arceus is just met with a playful wink. He can still feel it with no pain, but it was certainly an intrusion in some way shape or form. It doesn't quite penetrate his slit, as much as it penetrates… him. The other tongue follows suit, and he keeps staring down in confusion, until he realizes what target they have.

    His upper body jolts upright. His eyes widen. His mouth hangs open in what should be a scream, but his vocal cords can't quite manage the energy to move. His internal testicles, far more sensitive than those acclimated to the outside, each had a thick, meaty tongue wrapped around them in a way he never thought he would feel in a million years. Both hands grip the sides of Arceus' head, but no matter how hard his instinct told him to rip their head away… He can only manage to tug them a single inch. Then, the movement causes him to tense up again, and slam Arceus' face back into his hips. What felt like drool splatters across his inner thighs, precum surges down their throat in a steady, pulsing flow, and with a glance down, he sees Arceus with their eyes closed, seemingly… submissive. 

    The next time, it's two inches of movement. Then, four. Eight. Doubling until he pulls Arceus almost all the way off of his length. Each time ends with him gripping his fingers around the back of their head, and slamming them down like a toy. Less and less time passes between each pull, but each time, the assault on every sensitive nerve in his body becomes that much more intense. He never noticed how pretty Arceus' eyes looked, or the strangely feminine look of their body, but for some reason, the more he stares, with pure lust running his heart and mind, the more he sees that he likes.

    The only thing capable of pulling him out of his lustful stupor is the pressure building in his loins. It was like no pre-orgasmic warning he had felt before. It certainly didn't help that two questionably physical tongues are still working his balls, which were never meant to be touched in the first place, let alone squeezed by slick, dense muscles. It's the most "full service" experience he's ever felt, and with his physical and metaphysical lusts reaching their peaks, he cares less and less about being nice and proper, and more about using the head of Arceus themselves as a slutty, divine fleshlight. 

    Soon enough, the only conscious thought in his head is how much his body wants more control. How much he needs more. A sudden growl accompanies one good shove, smearing Arceus' face into his waist. Looking down, it seems like they were expecting that to be the end, their pretty eyes closed, swallowing precum obediently, and if he could see what exactly the situation of their mouth is, he's certain it would be a smile. That changes quickly, when he grabs Arceus by the shoulders, and rolls over, pinning the back of their head to the bed.

    The walls of their throat shook, the tongues quiver, their body tenses up. A smug grin crosses Paul's face. He took Arceus by surprise this time, and he knows it. The grip on their head was now used to hold them still, as his hips ram themselves in as hard as they could. Something about this feels so deeply satisfying, his very core savoring this sensation, and despite all of the new, exotic things he felt, something is so… familiar. He can't quite put his finger on it, and in the heat of his lust, he doesn't care to. That very same thing from before that felt so fitting, so perfect. That sensation returns.

    All he cares about right now was pushing himself over the edge, burying himself down to his slit against whatever kind of lips Arceus has, and blowing the wrath of the raging seas down this toy’s throat. 

    The overstimulation quickly gets to him. The familiar feeling is still there, gnawing at him, and what’s left of his thoughts just makes it a million times worse in an instant. Was Arceus telling the truth? Was there more to him? Why is he thinking these things? Fortunately, he's too close already for a few seconds of disturbed thoughts to stop him. His momentary confusion is cut short by the feeling of his internal testicles being squeezed one more time, just enough to set him off. 

    The moment he feels his loins tense, his mind goes completely numb. Instinct alone sends the last powerful thrust into the mouth Arceus had formed for him. Instead of individual strands or thick, heavy ropes, his cum sprays out in one dense, pressurized stream, only separating into individual bursts towards its end. Whether it was the actual back of Arceus' throat he was power washing or not, he doesn't care. All he can feel is his instinct, the deep, visceral urge to pump as much as possible as deep as possible, regardless of where it's going. He stays there for a while, his sizable girth pulsing as the heavy flow causes the entire shaft to swell a bit.

    It isn't until his length begins to soften that movement returns to either of the two. However, rather than Paul pulling away, Arceus' tongues begin their work once again, servicing the legendary-in-denial and causing his sensitive post-orgasmic body to shiver. His length has quickly retracted back into its slit, but their tongues are already there, already waiting for it. It receives the same love and attention as before, but now, it came with the warm, comforting numbness that his own insides provided. He can't help but let Arceus do as they please, savoring the feeling of having his slit filled and worked around in different ways, all without the discomfort of actually forcing in something more physical. 

    He stays there for some time, savoring the extra treatment, rolling his hips against Arceus' face, encouraging their tongues to keep going. He also takes the opportunity to catch his breath, the aftersex exhaustion taking a bit of a toll, but not enough to force him to stop. With conscious thought returning to his head, he takes his time, resting, relaxing, before one particular thought comes back to mind…

    Suddenly, his hips yank up and away from Arceus' face, and he looks down at their head as quickly as he possibly could. Visible disappointment crosses his face when he sees… the same gray lines as before. Not even a drop of saliva indicating a mouth. He mutters a small curse to himself, groaning as he rolls back over, leaving Arceus free to stand back up. They look at him blankly, already knowing what exactly troubles him.
    "...Sorry friend, some things aren't meant to be seen by eyes, even…"

    They stop, going quiet. However, the Lugia speaks, without even looking at Arceus, finishing their sentence for them.
    "...Even another legendary?"
    "...Does that mean...?"

    Paul closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a sigh, more forcing himself out of the conversation than giving an answer. His eyes trail away, towards the entrance of the cave, out towards the crashing waves and white-capped peaks, shining from the moon. The entire last couple of hours, or minutes, or seconds for all he knew, were all a complete blur. He can’t even get his current thoughts straight, let alone what he was feeling just a moment ago, before the most intense climax of his life. His thoughts are troubled, but soothed by the near silence, the soft spray of salty mist hovering nearby, and the ocean he willingly chose to live by. 

    Another chill up his spine pulls his attention away. For a brief moment it felt like he was completely alone, but looking back down the bed, there lies that same figure of Arceus, whom he hasn't even decided for certain isn't a figment of his imagination yet. Between him and their body is his erection. Dream, imagination, what have you, the blood still pumping between his legs is very real, and one orgasm was nowhere near enough to satisfy after the overstimulation he had received. A soft, playful nudge from Arceus' cheek causes him to flinch, his refractory period taking its toll on his nerves, but as quickly as the sensitivity makes his nerves shriek in pseudo pain, it fades, leaving nothing but the soft face of Arceus, brushing him gently. The look in their eyes… He knows, that relief, as well as the squirt of precum that coats their face carelessly, was their doing.

    "...I'm not done paying my penance. If I'm not mistaken, I owe so, so much more. I said I would handle this in particular, did I not? My mouth is clearly unsatisfactory. Tell me, do you mind putting in a bit of effort yourself? I wouldn't ask for it on normal terms, but… help me help you~"

    Before he can ask what sort of help they need, let alone decide to accept or refuse, they have already stood up. He can't help but catch notice of their figure, the very same he only began paying attention to while he was hunched over their head, mind melting with lust. As their figure turns, he finds himself too busy in his thoughts on how attractive they really are. Was this part of the little act they were putting on? Did they make themselves so pleasing to the eye just so they could get on his good side? Why did Arceus of all beings want him this way? Was it really even right to be this paranoid?

    It takes a firm wiggle of their — her — ass, to shake him out of it. He had begun to zone out, but a set of female genitalia pointing his direction is more than enough to snap him back to his senses. He immediately sits up again, his face an even deeper shade of red than before, as fresh precum spurts out of his tip, leaving a trail on the cave floor. Arceus doesn't even say a word, the message presumably clear enough, but when he looks up her figure once more, somehow once again thoroughly stunned, their eyes meet. She knows what he wants. He knows that she knows. The only word he bothers to attempt sticks in his throat, escaping as little more than a breath cut short. 

    He can't resist, even if he wants to. It may only be the lust between his legs acting for him, but he can't help himself. He lowers his face to take a better look at her, his blush deepening even further as he notes how round, how smooth, how perfectly shaped her cheeks are, cheeks that he now hovers inches away from. The two holes she presents to him are certainly befitting of their divine owner. Where one would expect the pink of flesh, it's a dull, but somewhat glistening gold. Her labia is a sudden separation of the dark gray of her underside and gold, the plush, puffy pair of deep gray lips spreading just enough to reveal the tender, gilded flesh within. Her tailhole is a slightly different story. Although it twitches, tenses, and shows its anticipation all the same, it's a bit of a fade from the strange, dark matte surface, into the brighter, clearer gold, with only the very center of the slightly swollen rim being its purest true color. 

    In spite of the tantalizing breeding chamber in front of him, there's something so absolutely appealing about the more naughty option. He doesn't need to look back up to Arceus to know that she isn't going to say no. If he did something she didn't want, he'd know it, no questions asked. But, just as a heads up for her, and maybe an excuse to savor the view just a little more for himself, he puts his broad hands up to her rear, grips her waist gently, gives her a satisfying spread, the main focus of the pulling being her tight, firm little ring.

    To his surprise, the slightest tug from her cheeks reveals a glint of that moist gold. His own length pulses a little bit harder at the thought, but he feels far from ready to let this end. His fingers slide closer, approaching the fading discoloration, and using the friction there, he tugs at just her rim. To his surprise… she doesn't feel very tight at all. At least, not once he actually applies pressure. His eyes didn't deceive him before, she was certainly able to keep herself tense, but a touch of relaxation certainly goes a long way. When the ring of muscle opens at least an inch or two, and the golden walls reflect more light than normal creatures would, letting him see as far as her insides would allow before they made their first natural turn, his urge to explore those depths skyrockets. 

    There are no words spoken. No questions asked. No complaints or protests either. The only sound in the entire cave is a combination of rapid, wet schlicking, and the desperate, needy moans of a Lugia with his lips sealed to a tailhole. He doesn't care about making a mess, the drool that escapes his mouth just mixing with the fluids leaving her slit below. His wide, thick tongue easily rivals the ones he felt from her mouth earlier, and it seems to fit so well, pulling at the edges of her rim, exploring every inch it can reach with thorough fervor. No matter how much the previous round had drained him, his excitement is at an all-time high. Something about the sensation, touching this forbidden, holy gold, in a way so sinful, but so, so sweet. Arceus may keep her mouth a secret, but her tailhole is a very real, visible, tangible offer. He needs more.

    His tongue does everything in its power to savor this, reaching as deep as possible, touching every pure inch, twisting and writhing in ways that make Arceus' insides clench and relax. He doesn't leave a single spot without a soaking of saliva and warmth, and that goes doubly so for the outer rim. As much as he revels in the sensation of burying his maw into her pucker... letting his tongue drag around in circles, tracing the tight ring, stroking across, up and down, one side to another, poking the tip of his tongue in and out of the ring just to hear the wet, sliding pops… that feels just as good, if not better. 

    His hands would be working furiously at his length at this moment, and he would more than likely be in the process of rubbing out enough orgasms to fill the cave up to their ankles, but two things keep that from happening. The first, is the activity keeping his hands occupied. Rimming Arceus herself is fun, but it wouldn't be the same if he didn't feel her beautiful, perfect cheeks squeezing around his face, adding the cherry on top to the experience. Leaving his own length throbbing and needy, letting torrents of precum ooze out, flowing down his shaft, to his thighs, and eventually the bed and floor, is a small price to pay to make sure he is absolutely smothered in divine ass. The second thing is the thought of what comes next. 

    The two stay this way for some time. Arceus gets herself comfortable, leaning on her front hooves, while Paul keeps himself as busy as possible. No words need to be spoken, pure lust is driving him now, and she knows it. It isn't until finally, finally, the need for attention from between his legs outweighs his watering mouth, that he pulls himself away. He couldn't see her mouth, her lips were forbidden for some reason or another, but when he pulls his maw away, leaving a few thick strings of saliva between his hanging tongue and her rim, he admires his work. Her hole is much more relaxed now, and with the extra shine of several fresh coats of saliva, the view of her glistening golden insides is all he needs to decide to move on.

    Silently, he moves over to make room on the bedding. Her body floats up to it weightlessly, and without needing to ask, puts herself in a proper position. Face into a pillow, ass in the air, still dripping with his drool, swaying from side to side like a hypnotic dance. He mounts her without a second thought, or a first for that matter, instinct driving him to use the precious hole he prepared. In one swift thrust, two feet of thick, tapered cock are sent buried into the quadruped's body, perhaps a bit too eager to provide her wrong-hole experience. A shockwave is sent through both of their bodies, but only one of them can find a way to voice their pleasure…

    "...Palinouros~..."

    It is a voice. A real voice. And it isn't his voice, or the one he heard a minute ago. Not the voice of an almighty deity, not the kind that resonates in one's soul. It's flesh and blood vocal cords that just spoke, into the pillow underneath him, speaking… his name. Once again, he finds a conflict between thought and pleasure. He tries to shake it away, and decides to just start thrusting, his hips reeling back for his impressive length, just to send it all the way in again. Her insides receive a precious split second to recover around his thin tip, before being split open yet again, pulling another, softer verbal response from the deity. His hands stay gripped onto her waist, his wide fingers digging into her softness with strength he barely knew he had. With all remaining caution thrown to the wind, that marks the true beginning of his rut.

    Moans and groans fill the cave, the scent of combined lusts being carried out to an open ocean. Despite all of his attempts to push away his thoughts, that same feeling lingers from before. The one he just can't shake from her presence. He knows who this is. Arceus. The one who created him. The one who owned, controlled, and could do whatever they liked with him. And yet here he is, ruining her tailhole with a cock that he has to forcibly remind himself belongs to a simple mortal who lives in a cave by the ocean. 

    He feels so much pride, mounted over her body this way, so much strength from her compromised, begging position… all of his frustration, all of his fear, all of his anger, it slowly melts away. In its place, was the pleasure. The feeling of violating someone, something, so pure and perfect, so holy and renowned, not by pure force, but by her asking him to. It wasn't pity, it wasn't bribery, it wasn't a malicious request with ulterior motives. If anything, she's feeling more pleasure than him, if the way she’s finally letting her true voice be heard in the form of begging him for more, or the way her untouched slit is soaking his bed in squirts of lustful fluids, are any indication. It was out of the question that she'd do such things just to convince him of something… And it makes him feel… powerful.

    Powerful. That was the feeling. That was what he was denying himself this whole time. Powerful beings don't get to help their neighbors bake cookies. Powerful beings don't get to take out the trash and give a casual wave to their friend walking by. Powerful beings don't get to live boring, mundane lives. Peaceful lives. Happy lives. And looking at himself, mounted over the body of a literal Goddess he worshipped in more ways than one, balls deep inside of her after refusing her breeding chamber for an intentionally naughty, dirty choice... he can't deny it, for himself, or for her. He feels powerful. 

    His mind is strangely clear after that revelation. He knows what he wants. What he needs. He feels his mind, body, and soul all unanimously agreeing on one thing. He only slows his hips for a moment, to take in the reality of what he’s doing, seeing it with his own eyes. That slowness is just enough to hear the instructions verbally spoken for him, although he had already spoken them to himself tenfold.
    "Keep going~..."

    The sun had long since risen. Hours upon hours had passed. Still, those same noises of sloppy, lustful lovemaking could be heard. The two only changed positions a few times, but eventually resorted back to the original doggy style they began with. It may have surprised Palinouros earlier that Arceus' body didn't tire, or show any sign of wear and tear, despite having endured more than a fair share of anal penetration, but knowing what he knew, there was no surprise. Still, her insides hug him the millionth time just as they hugged him the first, and he feels more than eager to accept that, especially remembering who he’s with. 

    Cum of every sort has been thoroughly splattered around the bed and cave floor, making a mess that would take lesser beings months to produce, but for these two, less than a full night. No matter how powerful, this much exertion for this long would begin to wear down on even a legendary Pokemon, and such is the case for Palinouros, and to a lesser extent, even Arceus. They both know simultaneously that this round would be their last, their unspoken language easily telling of each other's impending need for rest. 

    He decides to use the last of his stamina at once, and give his lover a grand finale. One leg rises for his talons to grip her rear, letting one hand reach to the side for balance. The other leg follows, and soon, his entire weight is being used to jackhammer his length into her rear end, leaving her own powerful body to take the brunt of it all. Unsurprisingly to him, she takes it in stride. Being two feet taller does seem to provide an advantage at least, and as one last playful measure, she curls her upper body so that her shoulders hold most of her weight and her neck reaches back between her legs, effectively upside down, so her face can easily see the show he's making of her rear end. 

    By this point, Palinouros had let himself be guided by everything his gut was telling him. He could feel the rhythm of nature around him, the powerful tides crashing against the rocks, again and again, and it guided his every move. For hours now, he had been readjusting to controlling his own force of nature, and it showed in the strength he used. Rolling back and forth ceaselessly, crashing and splashing fluids every direction, all for the sake of divine beauty. This is his nature. The ocean is his own. Passing thoughts in short breaks between messy climaxes were enough for him to come to terms with that, but for now, in this moment, his focus has to be on the first expression in years of who he really is. 

    The position may be a bit awkward, but both of them have the fortitude to handle it. Arceus almost immediately begins taking splashes of fluids to her face, some her own, some his, all enough to bring a giggle out of her. He looks back at the compromising position she put herself in, and makes sure to help with that mess, putting enough force and depth into each thrust to help their mixed fluids, the cum dripping from around his shaft, and the occasional gush of femcum from her slit, fall to her face in a humiliating glaze. Seeing it just helps dig a little bit more into the satisfaction that brought him this far. 

    Only a few minutes pass before a combination of adrenaline, exertion, and stimulation all prepare Palinouros to reach his limit. He can feel the same sensations as before, the lust in his body and soul being driven, urged to a boil by the divine being he's treating like a common whore. He needs this release, and he is going to take it without hesitation. His talons grip her swollen rear end, which he swore she had made bigger for him to better perch on, and he uses the added force of gravity to slam himself into her golden little tailhole harder than ever before. 

    He can't help but wonder if she'll treat this one any different from the others. The entire night they've been at this, she's pretended that his actions made a difference, but he knows who was really controlling things. That realization came to him with the memories of who he was. She decided how big of a mess he made. She decided how tight she was. He knew that she even decided to be a "she" just to tempt him, knowing this was a soft spot of his. Every gush of fluids that splattered across her face, every last humiliating drop, was her own doing. She could let her insides be a clean, bottomless pit like her throat, but instead, she chooses to paint herself in his seed. He wouldn't have it any other way. 

    As if his thoughts made her decision for her, which he wouldn't doubt, when his body finally begins pumping out his seed one last time, her insides had a sense of fullness that he quickly picks up on. The first few heavy ropes splatter against her walls, only to build up a bit of pressure and spray back out in a thick, sloppy creampie. It stays that way for a moment, letting thin, pressurized strands of cum paint webs across her rear end. However, instead of just continuing to overfill her, he leans forward with a smirk, and suddenly pulls out, the position leaving him aimed at her waiting face below. The latter half of his climax coats her face with a thick enough layer of seed that the dark gray underneath is almost completely hidden.

    When the high of his orgasm finally wears off, his rut mostly satisfied, he lets out a groan as he quickly and carefully gets off of her. His body lays back on the bed, and by the time he can bring his attention to her, she's already back in a more normal lying position, rubbing herself clean with her own hooves, as the fluids strangely disappear, practically into thin air. She is still much more of a mess than him, but his body isn't exactly clean either after their exhaustive time together. For now, however, the focus stays on catching their breath. It takes another minute or two before Palinouros can bring himself to speak.

    "...Well… I remember now…"
    Arceus slows her self-cleaning to look over, still empathetically giving her best "smile".
    "Good. I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to desperate measures."
    "This wasn't 'desperate measures'?"
    "Oh no, my dear guardian. This was a fun solution to a serious problem. Take your time, sort out the rest of the life you want here, but you can't ignore the sea you were created to protect. I've already had to stop a storm from harming this coast. Surely you noticed that it stopped raining when I arrived?"

    Palinouros tenses up, looking at her with shock in his eyes.
    "You...you could have told me about that!"
    "And it wouldn't have been 'Paul's' responsibility. Or 'Pal' if we're friends. I've had an eye on you for some time, and I know how far in denial you were. Nothing less than a tangible, visceral shock was going to pull you out of your self induced hypnosis, and letting a town be destroyed before you come to yourself is low on the list of options for that. Besides, another dangerous one won't come along for a few weeks. You're lucky you aren't the only Lugia on earth, or there'd be no one but Kyogre to pick up the slack."
    He flinches again, more memories flooding back. Kyogre having total control of the seas wasn't exactly the best situation.

    "Regardless, I'm happy I could help you come to your senses. It's irresponsible of a legendary to shirk their jobs. Even those captured by humans had their backup plans…"
    "Humans…?"
    "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you know where to find me, should you need another 'reminder' of your situation, hm~?"
    "...Hall of origin…"
    "That, or call my name. My true name… The name only my children know."

    With a nod and a more relaxed, knowing smile, he lets out another sigh, laying back as Arceus stands up off of the bed. When they stood up and turned to leave the cave, Palinouros caught one more glimpse of their body. The mess he had made was gone, as if vanished into thin air. Unsurprisingly to him, so is the set of genitalia they had let him play with for the night. Their now once again genderless figure is less feminine now, less sexual, confirming the suspicion that it was, in fact, just for him. Even his own decency returns, his length retreating to its slit and refusing to leave for some time.

    As quickly as he looks up from himself, they're gone. Teleported, snapped out of existence, slipped to some other plane of reality — he can't quite bring himself to care how, but it is a bit sudden, as if she were never there at all. This was certainly not the kind of visitation he'd expect to hear of in holy scriptures, he tells himself, but he can't complain. A short thought of what he could ask for later passes through his mind, but soon, the exhaustion and lack of sleep begin to catch up with him. Being guardian of the seas could wait a few more hours, he tells himself, as he closes his eyes, and allows the soft waves to lull him back to sleep.