“Stop, Articuno! They’re not the ones!”

The voice cuts sharp across the frigid air as the newcomer clashes with the great bird. Me and my partner, a Charmander named Bunker, watch in awe as he talks down the god. After Articuno is sufficiently satisfied, he turns to face us. “My name is Ivory,” he says, his voice rich like dark chocolate. “I would join you.”

---

He calls himself an “Absol.” After months here, I’m still getting used to this world—the various species of fantastic creatures called pokemon. It amazes me that so many fantastic species can exist.

Call me Mason. Me? I’m not a pokemon—at least, not originally. I was a young woman fresh into her first year in college, and then suddenly, one weird dream later, here I am in a fluffy new body; soft paws, mahogany-colored fur, a creamy ruff around my neck and a matching splash on my tail that’s shaped like a heart. They tell me I’m an “Eevee.”

Despite my new situation, I’ve adapted to the new body pretty well. I don’t trip over my four paws (unless I start thinking about it). I’ve adapted to a diet that’s mostly fruit—berries, applies, you name it. I wag my tail when I’m happy and I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

I wonder if my instant attraction towards Ivory also stems from my new Eevee instincts.

He’s tall, far taller than I am, and graceful, with long claws that brush delicately through the snow. His fur is exactly the color his name implies, save for his face—a grey so stormy it’s almost black, with a curved tail and matching crest of the same color.

Though Bunker has not gone out of his way to elucidate how exactly pokemon mate and breed, I’m a clever girl, and I quickly figured out who to ask. (Mama Kangaskhan back in town was my go-to girl.) Pokemon can only mate with others similar to them, and after a relatively brief pregnancy, the female lays an egg. Yes[i], all[/i] females—even mammalian pokemon.

I don’t claim to understand it.

The way that Kangaskhan explained things, pokemon could only mate with those like them—dragons with dragons, fish with fish. Alternate pairings weren’t looked down on, but had no chance of producing children, and most pokemon stuck to their in-groups.

I’m a fox—or a cat-fox-dog, whatever it might be. A small, furry creature of definite mammalian persuasion. Ivory… he’s mammal too, and some pulse of my biology tells me that yes, we’re compatible.

It gets hard not to look at him sometimes. Despite my ease of adapting to my new body, one of the hardest things about this new world was getting used to how pokemon didn’t cover themselves.

Most pokemon have fur or scales to cover sensitive parts, and even those males belonging to species that don’t have their penises tucked away in sheaths or hidden entirely within a genital slit, not unlike my-world reptiles. But even with all that, I still find myself stealing glances between his legs as we walk—to see his modest, white-furred sheath.

The night after he invites himself into our team, I imagine what his cock would be like; for the first time, I fantasize about being taken by another pokemon, trailing a paw down to entertain myself as I go.

---

Ivory doesn’t seem to mind that we’re fugitives on the run for our lives. His species can sense natural disasters, and he agrees with Bunker that I’m not the culprit, regardless of whatever the legends say. Strangely, he takes the fact that I was originally human in stride. “I’ve heard of stranger things,” he mused, crossing his paws over himself in the snow. Despite the fact that his fur seems thinner than mine, he seems unperturbed by the cold. “So you’re human, then.”

“I [i]was.”[/i] I feel the need to insist on a correction now, to remind him that I’m here, in front of him, I’m a pokemon, an Eevee, I’m—

(I’m what exactly? A potential mate? Is that it? God above, why can’t I stop staring at him; why does his quiet nobility, his supple strength, why does it stoke such a fire in me, why can’t I stop [i]thinking[/i] about him? I’ve never been so consistently attracted to [i]anyone—[/i]whether human or pokemon!)

He nods. “I see.”

---

The nights are cold, but as he leads us north to Mt. Freeze, the place where we might finally track down some answers, they grow colder still.

Bunker doesn’t notice, of course. He never has. That eternally-burning flame at the end of his tail is only the start. His species can produce fire from nothing. His body is like an engine, perpetually warm; I don’t think he’d know cold if it stole his scarf. And Ivory, a native of this land, has long grown used to it.

But me? I find myself shivering in the dark of our little camp, curled up so tight I’m burying my face in my tail, my little brown paws tucked against my body, huddled in the snow. It’s impossible to sleep.

I don’t mention it to either of my teammates. It doesn’t seem relevant. But I hear the snow crunch as Ivory makes his way over to me. I can [i]feel[/i] his presence hovering near as he stands over me—and then, with exceptional quiet, he bends and wordlessly cuddles up to me, the big spoon to my little. His paws drape over my shoulder to land in the ruff about my neck, effortlessly pulling me close and tighter, and my breath hitches a little bit as my back reaches his belly. I almost want—

But no, there’s no erection, no growth of his cock. This is only about warmth. But as he takes in regular breaths, in and out again, rising and falling, I find myself breathing in time, and the tempo lulls me to sleep. When I dream, it’s of him, looking at me from across a snowy field. When I catch up with him, he holds me tight like he is in real life—only in the dream, he doesn’t stop there. I coo, and I coo in real life, and wake up flushed, horny, and pondering.

---

“Thank you,” I tell him when I wake, rising to shake powder from my fur.

He meets my gaze and then nods. “Of course, Miss Mason.”

Oh. Guh. Hearing my name come from his mouth is… it’s…

Can you blush through a face full of fur? Cause it certainly feels like I’m red as an apple.

The trip north to the mountain is going to be a long one, and Ivory leads us there. He’s quiet unless prompted, but a font of information with a little nudging if you get him talking. We learn of a powerful pokemon, Ninetales—the same said to feature in the legend that got everyone back in the village mad at me—who lives on the mountain.

I have eyes for him as we walk through the wind and driving snow, and more than once catch Bunker glancing at me. His face says it all—he knows my current predicament. He’s always been capable of reading me; the two of us are good friends. (We’re [i]friends![/i] Nothing more.) When I smile sheepishly at him, he rolls his eyes.

That night, Ivory comes to me umprompted once again, this time before I lie down. He doesn’t say anything, but I know what he’s asking.

“Yes,” I say. “Thank you. Really. It… it helps.”

As we settle down, spooning again, I notice that Bunker seems to have deliberately nested somewhere a fair bit away from the two of us[i].

Giving us privacy?[/i] I think almost giddily. [i]Why? It’s not like we need privacy… do we?[/i]

We should go to sleep, but my breaths are shallow. I can’t stop imagining his cock unfurling from his sheath. Will it have a tapered tip? Barbs, a knot? [i]Both?[/i] It must be my Eevee instincts, since the thought of such exotic equipment, which would have done nothing for the old Mason, leaves me feeling flushed and unfocused. God, I want him. I [i]want[/i] him. My loins feel like they’re on fire.

If what Mama Kangaskhan tells me is true, then I could lay with the vast majority of pokemon and not have to worry about a thing. There’d be no chance of conception if I were to hunker down with a Cubone or Ivysaur or Treecko, enjoying a starlit dalliance. Just a quick flash of pleasure and nothing to fear. So why am I so attracted to this white-furred Adonis, when I’m almost certain we [i]are[/i] compatible? Could it be this new body’s instincts again? Could it be that my body [i]wants[/i] to be bred?

I switch my focus from the act itself to the consequences in an attempt to dissuade myself. It doesn’t have the intended effect. The thought of my belly slowly swelling with life, of growing heavier with young—with [i]eggs[/i]—as Ivory paces behind me, doting on me, his lover, his [i]mate,[/i] the mother of his children; the thought of me lying on my side, sighing with bliss as tiny Eevee (for Mama Kangaskhan tells me that pokemon take after their mother) suckle up to me, those thoughts just make my interest spike.

Oh. It seems I [i]am[/i] into this. I [i]do[/i] want him to fill me with his children. The thought of swelling with kids works me up almost as much as the thought of getting rutted.

Well. In that case, nothing to do but seize the day, right?

Feeling impish, I wriggle up against him. I hear his breath catch; his paws over my shoulder momentarily tighten. “Miss Mason—what—”

“Shhhh,” I say to him, my back still turned. “It’s okay, Ivory.” And then both of us fall into silence. Who needs words? Our bodies can do the talking.

As I burrow against him, purring with delight, I can sense his breathing start to pick up, can feel his cock start to unsheathe beneath me. When it starts, he tenses and moves to get up as if embarrassed, but I cut him off. “[i]There[/i] it is,” I coo. “What I was looking for.”

His breathing shifts, but he no longer wants to leave now that he knows what I’m after. I wriggle about in his grip until we’re facing each other, his paws still draped over me, this time holding my back. I glance up to see him staring down at me, wide-eyed—the scent of our arousal, mine and Ivory’s both, is heavy in the air.

Smiling, I bend my head down to his growing cock. Opening my mouth, I give it a small, tentative lick.

The reaction from Ivory is immediate. The bigger pokemon tenses, moaning, and his cock springs out further to attention. I grin and start licking more thoroughly. The taste is rich and musky. It reminds me of sex and gets my body worked up, and before long I’m reaching one paw down between my legs to attend to myself as I continue licking.

After a few minutes, Ivory’s voice starts to choke. “Miss Mason, if you don’t stop, I’m—I’m g-gonna—”

God, his reaction is so [i]cute[/i]. He’s so proud and quiet and noble and strong, and the way he handled Articuno was incredible—but the moment I put the moves on him he starts stammering and blushing. I suppose out here in the wild where most pokemon are bandits or wanderers who respond to meeting a new pokemon by initiating an attack, he’s probably not used to females presenting to him.

Opening wider, I take him in my mouth and his voice rises in a high whine. He doesn’t have barbs, it turns out, but I can see a knot starting to swell at the base of his cock. Imagining that growing inside of me, tying the two of us together as his seed claims my womb, just spurs me on further.

I bob back and forth as best I can. I can’t possibly take his whole length into my mouth—he’s an Absol and I’m a much smaller Eevee, after all. My mouth and throat are only so big. But I give it my best shot, continuing to pleasure myself all the while, and before long Ivory’s back arches, his paws tighten against my shoulders, pulling me in, and his voice cries out: “Ah[i]—a-ah—”[/i]

His cock tenses against my tongue and then spurts out, cum jetting down my throat to settle pleasantly in my belly. The taste is sharp and tangy, and I swallow as much as I can. Both of us hold there for a few minutes in the aftermath, him panting, me breathing heavily through my nose.

That night, after he slides out of me and starts spooning me again, I turn to thinking about it all. It almost seems cliché—the whole “huddling for warmth leads to something more” thing. Not to mention that I’m taking the cock of a pokemon who I’ve known for a few days, and I’m seriously okay with the thought of not only a long-term relationship, but even letting him breed me. Old Mason, back in her dorms, would have been aghast.

But. Well. I guess it’s different for pokemon.

---

The following night he takes me proper, one paw on my back, holding me down against the soft snow as his cock ruts into me. Bunker has continued his new habit of bedding down far enough to give us space, so I let my voice pierce high into the air with every thrust. God, he’s so [i]huge,[/i] so big. As I part, the sheer [i]presence[/i] of him inside me drives me wild. “H-harder,” I pant, my tongue lolling, my fur standing on end as my whole body is stimulated. “[i]Harder,[/i] Ivory, I want it!”

He’s panting too, holding above me. “M-miss…”

“J-just… [i]aaaaaaaaaahn,”[/i] I murmur as one particularly luscious thrust strokes spots inside of me I didn’t know I had. “C-call me Mason. [i]Please.”[/i]

“Mason, I… I’m g-gonna…”

“I know,” I say, my breathing sharp. “I want you to.”

That sets him off. His voice ragged, he slams into me a few times, grunting, and then he hilts me. His knot immediately begins to grow, making me moan. If I thought his normal cock was something big, this is wild—spreading me more and more, further, until I’m so tightly stretched that my mind can’t even handle it. I spiral down, consumed by a hurricane of bliss, vaguely aware on some level that I’m cumming, that [i]he’s[/i] cumming, that his seed is flooding into me and holding there thanks to his knot plugging us up, and as Ivory curls around me protectively, I drift off thinking how lucky I am.

---

We rut pretty often after that—not [i]every[/i] night, but close to it, and I love every second of it. Even as a human I knew that I was a sucker for the “tall, dark, and handsome” archetype, but Ivory is… he’s just…

Okay[i], look.[/i]

Normally I wouldn’t have been attracted to sleek, white-furred panther-dogs, but my Eevee self saw him and just wanted me to whistle for forever.

The thing is, though, my new body had other plans too. Mama Kangaskhan wasn’t lying when she said that pokemon pregnancies progressed fast. By the time we made it to the foot of Mt. Freeze, a scarce few weeks after Ivory joined up, I was already showing. Only a little bit—a small curve, easily hidden by my fur and almost invisible if you didn’t know what to look for. But Ivory knew what to look for, changing his behavior to be protective and guarding, sometimes nosing at my tummy when we rested, and his behavior gave it away entirely to Bunker.

“I’m not gonna say I’m not happy for you,” the Charmander told me when he got me alone on our ascent, “but was now the best time? We’re [i]fugitives!”[/i]

“Not for long if your suspicion holds true,” I rejoin, rubbing a paw over my belly. The growth is so small, and yet a wash of feelings goes through me when I trace the gentle curve—a pleasant, warm, maternal feeling. “And we’ve spent so long on the run, I just… I just want to be happy.” I glance up at him. “This makes me happy, Bunker.”

He doesn’t look [i]satisfied,[/i] but he nods, and I can tell he’s not going to push the point. Bunker’s a good pokemon. Later, when he’s chatting with Ivory about how to handle the stresses of the mountain, I think to myself how the two of them are far better suited to this lifestyle. I’m okay in dungeons and on the run and in battles, but Bunker’s a natural, and Ivory’s even better than him. I’m glad we recruited him.

---

The fox at the peak tells us what we wanted to hear—I’m innocent. Our chasers arrive in time to hear the whole spiel, and they send us back with apologies and their blessing. It’s still a while before we make it home—we’ve been on the run for months, and as expected, the return journey takes about the same length of time, not helped by my… condition.

Fun fact: pokemon pregnancies take a few months, too.

When we finally make it into town, I’m indisputably pregnant, so big that my top speed is little more than a confident waddle. Eevee aren’t exactly big pokemon, so my tight, egg-laden belly (and I’m pretty sure I’m having multiples—whether that’s typical for pokemon or I just rolled the dice, I have no idea) looks even bigger compared to my petite size. The town’s pokemon were already acting embarrassed and apologetic for running us out, and their eyes bug out when they see my state. Absolutely none of them mention my pregnancy, which is honestly kind of amusing, though Mama Kangaskhan meets my gaze and nods in understanding.

My house at the edge of town is still there—I was worried it might have been destroyed or ransacked in my absence. After saying farewell to Bunker, I slowly walk inside, Ivory trotting worriedly behind me.

“I’m just pregnant, not helpless,” I tease. The interior of my house is a bit musty, but I can clean it tomorrow. For now, I just flumph down onto my bed, a makeshift mat of soft, inviting straw.

Ivory leans over my huge belly, licking tenderly at it. I hiss from the attention. “You know,” he said, “I probably wouldn’t have stayed after that incident with Ninetales, except…”

“Except…?”

He bends over and nudges my belly. “Except I couldn’t just leave you like this.”

“What a gentleman,” I murmur. Raising one head to look sweetly at him, I smile. “Ivory… they’re sore. Help me out?”

He doesn’t need any more urging than that. Settling on his stomach, he fixes his mouth around one of my swollen teats (normally invisible underneath my fur, they have grown lush and tender with milk) and drinks from me.

My breath claws out of me in a long, ragged sigh. After so many weeks walking on sore paws with an increasingly heavy load, it’s nice to just sit back, relax, and let my mate take care of me. It’s been a long, tiring journey home.

Somehow, the word alights on me. Home? Is that what this is? I’m Mason. I’m a human woman. I’m supposed to be in college. Is this little cottage on the edge of a village of creatures my [i]home?[/i]

Ivory’s mouth tugs at me, sucking milk from my sore teats, and the motion sends one of my eggs tumbling over itself inside my womb. The sensation makes me gasp—but then I quickly drift down into a warm glow. Yes… this [i]is[/i] home. It has to be. Maybe it’s not what the old Mason would have foreseen—but the new one, covered in brown and creamy fur, with little paw pads and long foxy ears, her teats tight with milk and her womb packed with eggs, her snow-furred lover attending to her, this new Mason has never been happier.

I’m purring.

“Ivory,” I say, my voice low. “Fuck me. Please.”

It’s not an atypical request. I haven’t exactly gotten less horny since being successfully bred—the opposite, in fact. For his part, Ivory has grown quite accustomed to sating my needs even in my current condition. 

I’m still lying on my side as he angles around me, his cock already unsheathed and erect. He’s grown more open and confident since realizing that I was carrying his children, but I’m still indisputably in charge when it comes to our relationship—not that I ever have to do much more than coyly ask.

Positioning himself, spooning against me, one claw-tipped paw burying itself in my mane while the other reaches to settle oh-so-softly on my big belly, I feel the tip of his cock tickle my slit and my purring only increases. He slides into me slow and tender, making me bloom around him. He holds in me for a while and then he starts fucking me.

While once his pace was raw and confident, now that I’m gravid he takes a gentler approach, fucking me so very, very sweetly, gradually sliding his cock in and out, [i]in[/i] and [i]out,[/i] long and luxurious strokes.

“Fuck, Ivory,” I murr. His breath caresses my neck; the warmth of his body is pressed against my back. “F-[i]fuck.[/i]”

“Good?” he asks, his voice tight.

“Oh yes. I… I love this. You, fucking me. My belly, tight with kids. I don’t want this to end.”

He holds me close to him, slowly picking up his pace. Bliss is galloping through me; I can only imagine what it’s like for him. “Neither do I,” he says. “Mason…”

“We’re gonna have so many little baby Eevee,” I pant. “Not just these ones. More. As many as we can. I [i]love[/i] this, Ivory. I want the way I am now, so fat with your kids that I can barely move, to be my[i]—o-oh—[/i]my default state. I want the in-between to be momentary flashes.”

“I’ll breed you as much as you need,” he growls. “I swear it.”

“I know… I know.”

He skirts into me, hilting, his breath catching as he cums. The familiar knot balloons up, swelling, and tying us together, making me cum as well, stretching me wide. Regardless of how many times I take his dick, I don’t think I’ll ever truly grow accustomed to the sheer [i]presence[/i] of such a knot in me. Ivory is well over twice my size, after all, and his cock is big enough to match. When he knots me, I’m spread so immensely wide that at times it’s hard to remember that a world beyond said knot even exists.

He quickly falls asleep in the afterglow, his chest rising and falling with secure breath, while I am left alone in my own thoughts.

Judging from what I know of pokemon pregnancies (which is admittedly quite little), I’ll likely give birth in a little under two weeks. I’m not worried about pain—these aren’t human children, they’re eggs, and my initial conversations with Mama Kangaskhan indicate that they slip out easily. I’ll have to confirm again with her tomorrow and see if she can’t give me a closer estimate of laying day.

The disasters plaguing the world are still ongoing, and something has to be done about them. I’m told that I have a special ‘role’ to play as a transformed human. One my eggs are laid and I’m recovered, I’ll work to fulfill that role as fast as I can, hopefully before they hatch.

And after that?

I think I’ll retire from the team. Bunker and Ivory should be more than capable of handling everything. The two of them make far better explorers and rescuers than I. And besides, once the world is saved, it’ll be that much better of a place to bring kids into.

Because I [i]meant[/i] what I told Ivory. I love this. I love my new status as his breeder. I’m going to spend as much as the rest of my life as possible pregnant, constantly bringing new Eevee into the world. I’m going to wake, waddle into town, showing off my fertility, let everyone know how thoroughly I’ve been bred. And I’ll do it again and again, rewarding my mate with long nights of passion after he returns from a day of heroics and rescues.

I smile to myself as I fall asleep, my lovely Ivory’s throbbing cock still knotted and tied inside of me. I have no intention of ever going back. [i]This[/i] is my home now, my life; and I couldn’t be more satisfied.