Woods Romp
	
	Stray ferns swished against the Lucario’s thigh as he crept through the dense underbrush. His soft pink paw pads crushed desiccated leaves underfoot as tall grass left dark stains on his navy blue fur. His paws clenched a tattered map. A drop of sweat formed on his snout and dripped onto the browned paper.

	“Good news, boys. We should only be… half an hour out,” Rubrum said.

	The Sylveon shook his digitigrade paws in the air and groaned, “Didn’t you say that half an hour ago? I’m getting really dirty down here.” 

	Professor Rubrum’s eyes remained fixated on the map. His face shone with childish glee. “I took a wrong turn before, but everything’s lining up now,” he said. He then turned back to his companions: Fey, a chipper Sylveon, and Maestro, the Meowscarada. 

	“If everything goes according to plan, we will be in possession of ancient treasure by nightfall!” Rubrum exclaimed. He threw his paws in the air. “We could completely revolutionize the study of Aurum civilization!”

	Maestro playfully knocked Fey on his haunch. “Yeah,” he said sardonically. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Fey?” 

	The Sylveon pouted. “It’s easy for you two! But I’m stuck on all-fours in the grass. The Intermediary Areas are totally overgrown. Plants keep getting in my mouth. ”

	The Meowscarada rolled his eyes. “Well maybe if you keep going like a good boy, I’ll put something else in your mouth when we set up camp tonight,” he teased. 

	Fey blushed and glanced away. His paws stamped on the dirt ground, his ribbons fluttering. “U–um, well, if that’s on the table… then maybe I’ll keep going. For research purposes,” he sputtered.

	Maestro laughed and patted Fey’s head. “Good boy,” he said. He then turned to Rubrum. “So we just keep going east from here, professor?” 

	Rubrum nodded. “Yep, straight due east. Eventually we should come across what looks like…” He studied the map once more. “Should be a temple. Definitely a building.” His feet then trudged once more across the cluttered ground, Maestro and Fey in tow. The sun filtered through the treetops and shone onto the trio’s damp fur.

	“Do we know who it’s a temple to?” Fey asked. The canine’s footsteps were light and dainty. His ribbons moved ahead to push branches and leaves away from his face. 

	Rubrum frowned and shook his head. He explained, “The Aurum Chronicles didn’t say. All we could discern from their ciphers was this cryptographic map.” 

	Maestro smirked. “Well, whatever it is, it’s important enough to hide for centuries,” he said. He swatted stray flies away with an open palm. Leaves tickled the top of his head. “We’ll know more once we get there. For now, just keep your eyes peeled.” 

	An aurum gear clattered awkwardly against Fey’s chest, hung by a single piece of twine. “I hope we learn what these are, at least,” Fey said. 

	“Aurum gears, you mean?” Rubrum asked. He briefly glanced backward at Fey. “Well, I can’t guarantee it, but I hope we will learn something… No, I’m certain of it.” 

The Lucario then raised his knees high in the air, pounding down on curled foliage, as he mounted a woody ridge. He huffed, “I must admit, I’m more of a researcher than a hiker though, haha.” 

	Maestro sneakily placed his palms on his professor’s butt, pushing him up the ridge from below. His sinewed arms easily supported Rubrum’s weight. “Don’t worry, professor. I can help you climb,” Maestro teased. 

	The Lucario tensed as he felt his student grasp his ass. Maestro’s thumb just barely avoided inserting itself into his asshole. The sensation flustered Rubrum, who managed to grab hold of a birch tree atop the shallow ridge. “Very funny, Maestro,” he sputtered, and surveyed the surrounding land. 

	Maestro and Fey followed suit, climbing the ridge one after another and standing by Rubrum’s side. The land’s undulations laid plain for the trio to see: miles and miles of green treetops; a snow-capped mountain days away; countless Flying and Bug types buzzing through the hazy summer breeze… 

	“Hold on,” Maestro said. He squinted, gazing through the hot, rippling air. He pointed his sharp claw toward the treetops to their right. “What’s that?” he asked.

	Rubrum looked up from the map. “What’s what?” he asked.

	“That,” Maestro insisted. He outstretched his arm further. “Between those two treetops over there. That dark… thing. You see it?” 

	Rubrum nodded. He said, “Hold on,” and removed a pair of binoculars from his backpack. He then held them to his eyes and adjusted the lenses, staring outward past the sea of leaves and focusing on the strange object. His jaw gaped. 

	“I–it’s a roof,” Rubrum sputtered. “This could be our temple!” 

	Fey smiled. “Really?” he asked. His tail wagged. “We can see it now? That means we’re close!”

	Maestro smiled. “We’re lucky it pokes from the tree line,” he said. Adrenaline flooded his body. “Arceus, I’m glad to see it up close like this.” One footstep fell in front of the other. “Let’s go. We can’t waste a minute of daylight.”

	“I agree!” Rubrum yelled, and bounded ahead like a puppy whose owner just returned home. His tail wagged aggressively, his snarls and barks ecstatic. Branches and grasses parted like the red sea in his wake. 

	“Follow me!” he called.

	Maestro and Fey stood in awe for a moment, then came to their senses.

	“W–we’ve gotta catch him,” Maestro said, and took off down the ridge. His legs pounded across the woodland detritus. “C’mon, Fey! We’re gonna lose him!” he yelled.

	Fey jumped from boulder to boulder, deftly scaling down the ridge. “Alright,” he huffed. “But after we catch up to him, I deserve extra snuggles for sure tonight.” 

	Maestro smirked. “Sure, Fey. Whatever you want.”

	And the two took off running.

	“Professor? Professsooooooor?” 

	Maestro’s voice echoed off of the treetops and clattered unceremoniously onto the ground. Sprigs and other plants swayed in the gentle wind. Flying types seemed to grow quieter the further Maestro and Fey proceeded. The trees and Bug types grew sparse. 

	Fey sniffed the ground, searching for any trace of Rubrum’s scent. But the trail had long since grown cold. He shook his head. 

	“I think he just ran ahead to the temple,” Fey said, and frowned. “He’s probably waiting there for us.” 

	Maestro sighed and nodded. He said, “I agree. Our professor is just a bit… excitable.” He surveyed the woods ahead, lifting his paw over his eyes. “I think I’m beginning to see the temple. Just a little farther and we’ll make it,” he added.

	Fey groaned. “Good. I dunno how much more my paws can take.” 

	The pair then silently passed by pine tree after pine tree, listening to their footfalls. As they progressed, they noticed that a myriad of thick green vines began to cover the nearby tree trunks. Tendrils hung from the dark branches above the pair’s heads, sparse at first, then thicker and thicker until they covered the sky. The forest became dark. The smell of mildew filled the air. 

	Maestro pinched his nose. “It smells like moldy laundry in here,” he said. 

	Ribbons covered Fey’s snout, making his voice come out as a high-pitched whine. “Yeah. Do you think Rubrum made it through all this alone?” 

The feline mustered a chuckle. “Knowing him? He’d cross desert and sea for his research. He’s safe. Trust me.” 

The two trudged on, cloaked in the moist darkness of the oppressive greenery. Their surroundings would have seemed labyrinthian, had they not been progressing in a straight line. 

But alas, the plants eventually gave way. Maestro peeled back a thick wall of vines only to find himself face-to-face with a clear, sunny glade. In its center laid an enormous brick structure whose triangular roof rose above the treeline. Its soot-covered walls laid diagonal to the ground, as if the entire structure was crumbling under its own weight. Stray vines and sprigs sprouted from its foundation and encroached its sides, working their way along its bricks and pulling it into the earth. 

“We found it,” Maestro said, and stepped into the field. “Looks like the building is being devoured by plants.”

Fey grinned and burst from the forest, closing the distance between himself and the structure. “Professor!” he shouted. “You in there?” 

The feline quickly caught up with Fey, panting under the hot sun. He laid a hand on Fey’s haunch. “W–wait,” he said between gasps. “Fey, we should be careful. We don’t know who’s in there.” 

The Sylveon grimaced. “You’re right. Sorry.” 

The pair then stared at the foreboding temple as they caught their breath. Its large gate opened plainly into the glade, but the structure’s cavernous insides laid shrouded in darkness. Cool air flooded outward onto Maestro’s sweaty fur. 

Maestro pursed his lips. “Let’s scout the inside of the structure. If Rubrum is anywhere, he’s probably there. But we need to be quiet.” He turned to the canine and asked, “Can you create a ball of light using Moonblast? A little one.”

Fey nodded. “Yep, can do. Are we gonna go in now?” 

Maestro glanced at the entrance. He shuffled his feet. “We don’t really have a choice. Just keep your wits about you,” he said. And the pair proceeded past the inky darkness of the temple’s entrance. 

Fey’s ribbons shook as he summoned a sizable ball of light in front of him, bathing the structure’s insides in a milky pink glow. Rows of benches; upturned tables; a small tub of water at the room’s front aside an engraved altar. The distant sound of water dripping onto the cold stone floor echoed throughout the hall.

“Looks like a meeting hall,” Fey whispered. “Like the one we have at the Academy.” 

Maestro nodded, hand to his maw. “Mmm. You’re right. This is likely where rituals were carried out.” He glanced left, then right. Two smaller rooms laid at either side, still dark. Likely storage rooms or something… 

As Maestro processed his surroundings, Fey crept forward among the benches and toward the altar at the room’s head. His paws dipped themselves in pools of cold water which permeated the aisles. He then mounted a small elevated platform and inspected the stone tub. It looked sort of like a… cauldron?

“Maestro, I think I–”

“Shhhh.” Maestro held a finger to his maw. The pair froze in their tracks, listening to the still air. It took a moment for Fey to notice it: humming. That was definitely humming.

Someone else was here. 

Maestro motioned downward, crouching silently behind a nearby bench. Fey followed suit, dismissing his moonblast and ducking behind the altar. The pair then laid in near-complete darkness, their view illuminated only by daylight spilling in from the front entrance. The pair stared outward as the humming grew louder and louder, waiting for the culprit to enter the light. 

Maestro’s body tensed in anticipation. His breath quickened as he readied an energy ball in his palm. Hostile Pokémon permeated Intermediary Areas like a plague. Bandits, ferals, hostile gangs vying for territory. Students notoriously wandered into these areas only to never return. And yet there Maestro crouched, smack-dab in the middle of one… 

A shadow covered the entrance. Maestro peeked over the bench’s backrest, his fingers at the ready as if grasping a weapon. But as he spied the Pokémon’s silhouette, his hackles came to a rest. 

“Rubrum?” Maestro asked.

The shadow turned just as he stepped into the temple’s entryway. Even in the near-darkness, Maestro knew that dumb smile. 

“Ah, boys! Glad you could make it.” Rubrum shifted his weight, something heavy in his paws. “I knew you’d make it here eventually. Please, please. Come outside, I have something amazing to share with you.” 

Fey removed himself from behind the altar, bounding down the aisle. “Professor!” he cried. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” 

He then tackled the poor Lucario, sending the pair flying into the daylight. Stone slabs flung from Rubrum’s grasp and spilled onto the soft grass. Rubrum’s face was immediately met with enthusiastic licks and whines. Fey’s tail wagged lovingly. 

“Hahahaha – Fey, get off of me! I’m safe, I’m safe,” Rubrum said.

	Maestro then emerged into the light, arms crossed. “Care to explain why you ran ahead like that?” he asked. 

	Rubrum shoved the canine off of him and sat upward. “Oh, what would twenty minutes alone have done to you two?” he asked. 

	“More like forty,” Maestro shot back. 

	The Lucario smiled embarrassedly. “Right. I’m sorry, students,” he said, and adjusted his glasses. “That was very unprofessional of me. I won’t go ahead like that again.”

	“Forgiven,” Maestro spat, and glanced at the stone tablets strewn about. His tail flitted. “Now tell me about these tablets.”

Rubrum’s face lit up. He crawled to the nearest tablet and inspected it for damage before turning it toward Maestro and Fey. 

“I found these tablets in what looked like an archive to the side of the main hall,” he explained. “Look at the engravings. They’re inlaid with some kind of silver glaze.” 

Maestro crouched down and gripped the stone tablet in his paws. Fey peered over his shoulder. The feline then turned the tablet side-to-side and watched as the tablet’s silver engravings glinted in the sunlight. 

He hummed. “I can’t read this. Seems like nonsense, even by ancient standards.” 

Fey stamped his feet in the dirt. “The engravings look kinda like the stuff Aurum gears are made out of,” he chirped.

Lucario clapped his paws together excitedly. “Exactly!” he said. “It seems that somehow this civilization engraved stone tablets with Aurum.”

Maestro wrinkled his nose. “Why would they do that?” he asked. “Just to make their tablets look pretty?” 

Rubrum’s smile lapsed. His shoulders fell. “I… don’t know,” he said. “Maybe to preserve them longer. Or maybe because these tablets are part of some… bigger puzzle. They seem to contain some type of cypher. Maybe electronic data.” 

“Another cypher?” Fey groaned. 

	“Another cypher!” Rubrum shouted, his arms in the air. “Isn’t it exciting?!” 

	Maestro grinned. “It is, professor.” He motioned toward the scattered tablets. “Is this all of them?”

	Rubrum shook his head and said, “No. There were close to twenty in there. We will have to carry them out together.” He then stood and picked his tablets off the ground, stacking them neatly on top of one another. “But for now, we should probably worry about setting up camp for the night.” 

	Maestro nodded and glanced upward. The sky was beginning to turn a pinkish orange. Thin wispy clouds stretched across the sea of nascent stars as twilight overtook the forest.

	“We’re setting up camp here, right?” Fey asked.

	Rubrum nodded. “I see no reason not to,” he replied. “There seems to be no wildlife nearby. And I doubt a gang would want to capture such an old temple.” 

	“Are you sure?” Maestro asked. “There’s a chance someone will come by the temple at night. It might be better to camp somewhere far-off.”

	Fey motioned with his ribbons. “I dunno, Maestro. This whole place is surrounded by thick vines. Without a map, it’d be really really hard to even find this place. I think it might be safest here, to be honest.”

	Rubrum nodded. “I agree. Plus, this glade gives us good visibility. And we can sleep in shifts just to make sure.” 

	Silence as the trio considered the plan. Maestro then sighed. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll camp here. And I’ll take first shift.” 

	“That stake needs to be pulled back a little farther,” Rubrum ordered. He pointed behind Maestro. “It needs to pull the tent’s fabric taut, or else it’s gonna collapse on us.” 

	“Gotcha.” Maestro gripped the metal stake. He then glanced upward at the darkening sky. A deep blanket of indigo crept from the horizon. Nightfall approached.

	“How’re the torches going?” Maestro shouted over his shoulder. He was met by muffled groans. Fey carried a torch in his mouth and planted it in the ground at the edge of the camp, shifting it upright.

	“Mmmmphphpmph!” Fey shouted. The shuffling of paws on grass.

	“I’ll assume that means good,” Maestro replied, and planted his stake solidly in the ground. It cut through the grassroots with a satisfying crunch. Maestro then grinned and stood straight, stretching his back. “Done,” he announced. “One more, right?” 

	“Mhm!” Rubrum stepped back, observing their work. “The tent is looking great! Thank you, Maestro.” 

	“No problem, professor.” Maestro then rounded the tent and grasped the remaining stake, repeating the process and plunging it into the grass. As he pounded it into the earth with his fist, Rubrum’s voice rose from the other side of the tent. 

	“Maestro? I thought you said you secured this side,” Rubrum said.

	The feline’s eyebrow raised. “I did,” he replied. “Is something wrong?” 

	“The stake isn’t in the ground.”

	Maestro raised himself and retraced his steps, nearing Professor Rubrum. Indeed, the stake at the Lucario’s feet had been removed from the earth. It laid prone on the cold grass. 

	The feline scoffed. “Weird,” he said. “That was in the ground pretty good. You didn’t take it out, did you?” 

	“Nope,” Rubrum replied. 

	“Mmm.” 

	Maestro wordlessly affixed the stake in the ground once more, pounding it extra deep into the dirt. “Well, it shouldn’t come out anymore,” he said, and stood to face Rubrum. “It’s firepit time now, right?” 

	Rubrum nodded and adjusted his glasses. He looked at the sky. “Yep. Fey gathered some stones and sticks, so it should be all ready. It will only take a minute.” 

	“Great,” Maestro said, and looked around. “So, uh… where are the sticks?” 

	Rubrum pointed toward the edge of their camp, not glancing away from the sky. “Should be right there. Near my bag.” 

	“Mmm.” Maestro followed the direction of his finger, but saw nothing. He then looked around the camp’s periphery.

	“You sure? I don’t see any firewood,” Maestro said. 

	“Hm?” Rubrum inspected the camp. Indeed, the firewood was gone.

 “I swear it was right there,” he said. “Fey must’ve moved it. Can you find him while I eat?” 

	Maestro sighed. “Alright.” He then swiveled his head in search of the canine. “Fey? Feeeeeeey?” His eyes traced along the camp’s edge, counting the torches mounted along its edges. One, two, three, four. Each lit using a flint and steel, just as instructed. But Fey was nowhere to be seen. 

	“Did you see Fey run off somewhere?” Maestro asked. 

	Rubrum’s face scrunched as he dug around in his bag. Buckles clacking and the shifting of leather. “No. I think I would’ve noticed,” he replied. 

	Maestro frowned. “Feeeeeeeeeey!” he yelled. Dammit. Fey was here a minute ago! That Sylveon was always getting distracted. The feline then turned to Rubrum. “Are you sure you didn’t see him?”

	Rubrum crunched on a pecha berry and gazed at the stars. “Yeah. I mean, maybe he slipped by. My eyes are pretty keen, but it’s getting dark.” A wet crunch. Pecha juice dribbled down Rubrum’s chin. “Wherever he is, he’ll come back soon.” 

	“You don’t think he’s building a fire somewhere else, do you?” Maestro asked. 

	Rubrum gulped. “I don’t see why he would do that.”

	Then, silence. Neither Maestro nor Rubrum spoke. The night ushered in cold winds and the rustling of leaves. A crescent moon rose above the pair.

Maestro felt his hackles begin to raise. A cold breeze passed over his shoulder. Adrenaline made his muscles tense. Something was… wrong. 

	“Do you feel that?” Maestro asked. 

	Rubrum stopped eating and tossed the berry’s core to the side. He licked his lips and stared around the camp. The air had become notably colder. Their camp’s lights flickered. Deafening silence washed over them. Rubrum couldn’t put his finger on it, but Maestro was right.

	“We’re not alone,” Maestro barked. “Stand your ground and get behind me.” He then planted his paws solidly on the knoll, an energy ball forming in his palms. His eyes flitted from one tree to the next. 

“Alright,” Rubrum said. He then hurried to Maestro and readied an aura sphere between his palms. The two stood back-to-back, observing the woods which surrounded their camp. Nothing moved. 

“Fey? You out there?” Maestro called. But there was no response. 

Suddenly, a tap on Maestro’s shoulder. The feline didn’t look away from the forest. 

“You see something?” Maestro asked. 

“Hm? No.”

“Well, you just tapped my shoulder.” 

Rubrum shook. “No, I didn’t,” he said, and briefly glanced backward. “I didn’t touch you.”  

Maestro’s blood went cold. His heart raced. The energy ball grew hot and swirled against his chest. But still, no targets appeared in his sight.

“Something is messing with us,” Maestro said. “It must be a Ghost type.” 

“Likely. What now?” Rubrum asked. His voice quivered. “You know I’m not usually a fighter. You’re going to have to guide me.”

Maestro’s eyes narrowed. His mouth opened to speak. “We wai–”

A flash of light. Something imperceptibly bright suddenly flung itself from the forest and impacted Maestro’s chest, frying his vision. A high-pitched vibrato rang in his ears. He stumbled backward in a sea of light, maintaining his fighting stance.

“Rubrum!” he cried. “Rubrum, that was a Confuse Ray! Don’t attack, you’ll hit yourself!” 

The Meowscarada frantically turned in every direction, hoping to catch the shadow of his 
attacker amidst the glow. But nothing came. The ringing began to fade.

	“Professor? Professor, are you okay?” 

Silence. No footsteps, no voices. The feline just stood there, his stance at-ready, as he regained his senses. He then desperately searched for Rubrum as the darkness slowly crept back into his vision, but the Lucario was gone. Only an indent in the grass remained where Rubrum once stood.

	“F–fuck!” Maestro said. “Fuck! Fuck!” 

	The Meowscarada snapped his neck in every direction. His heart raced, his breath unsteady. The same flickering torches, the same tent. But Fey and Rubrum were gone.
 
	From behind the Meowscarada, a gravelly voice arose. 

	“Isn’t it a little late to be alone in the woods?” it asked. 

	Maestro turned to face the voice. An amorphous blob stared unflinchingly among the shadows, its red eyes peeking from the darkness. 

	The feline’s face contorted into a fierce scowl. A low growl rumbled in his chest. 

	“Tell me who you are,” Maestro ordered.

	A devilish smile shone, shadows coagulating around it like a ball of fire. A Gengar. Definitely a Gengar. 

	The Ghost type said, “It’s impolite to enter someone’s home and pretend like it’s yours.” 

	Maestro’s lips pursed. “I’m guessing you mean the… temple. We didn’t know this place was yours,” he said. “We’re researchers. From the Academy. We’re not looking to claim your home.” 

	The Gengar then stepped from the shadows. His round body became clearly defined by the light of the camp’s torches. He pointed his stubby arm at the neat pile of tablets on the ground.

	“So you’re not looking to raid my home, but you took my property? Sure.” 

	Maestro glanced exasperatedly at the pile of tablets. He scoffed. “Look, we’re not looking to steal from you. Believe it or not, those tablets contain crucial… information… about the ancient Aurum civilization.” His eyes narrowed. “Just let my friends go, and we’ll camp somewhere else. You can even keep the tablets.” 

	The Gengar laughed. “You sound so desperate. It’s funny,” he said, and snapped. “Sid? It’s okay to come out now.” 

	On cue, a small figure slithered from the darkness behind the Gengar – a Snivy. His walk was impossibly confident for such a small Pokémon. Two long sets of vines protruded from his tiny figure and trailed into the shadows. 

As the Snivy moved to the Gengar’s side, his vines retracted toward the light. In their grasp laid Rubrum and Fey, bound by many feet of thick grassy rope. The two writhed against their bindings. Muffled grunts escaped their mouths. 

	Maestro smiled nervously. He joked, “Now I know who grew those vines around this place.”

	The Snivy’s voice was a high-pitched squeak. “They were made to keep people like you out,” he replied. “But I guess they weren’t enough.” 

	The Gengar folded his arms and said, “Tell me why I shouldn’t ransom you three right now.” 

	The Meowscarada pursed his lips. He relaxed his fighting stance and allowed the energy ball to fade from his palms. He said, “Well, first of all, it’s the right thing to do. But I doubt that means anything to you.” 

	The Gengar smirked. Sid narrowed his eyes.

	Maestro continued, “But secondly, we’re some of the Academy’s top researchers. If we go missing, you won’t get a chance to ransom anyone. They’ll send a search party here within a couple days. And if those Pokémon don’t return, an army.” The feline tilted his head. “And to be honest, I can hold my own. But compared to what’ll come when I’m gone?” He sighed and spread his arms. “Hundreds of Pokémon, all with military training–” 

	“I’ve heard enough,” the Gengar barked. The confident bravado lapsed from his face. Wheels turned in his head. The Snivy looked at him for guidance. 

	“What’s your name?” the Gengar asked.

	The Meowscarada bowed and replied, “Maestro. I major in Ancient Civ under Professor Rubrum.”

	The Ghost type glanced at Sid. He asked, “That check out?” 

	“Hmmm.” The Snivy nodded. “I think I remember those names, yeah. He’s telling the truth.” 

	“Of course I’m telling the truth.” Maestro tilted his head. Tension began to melt from his body. “You’re not a student, are you?” 

	Sid clenched his fists. He grimaced and replied, “No. I was expelled five years ago. They tossed me into the Intermediary Zone to rot.”

	The Meowscarada shifted his feet. “They… what?” He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of the Academy doing that.”

	A sigh. Sid huffed, “Well, the Board of Directors is great at making sure no one knows.” His tail smacked against the ground. His vines tightened around Rubrum and Fey. 

He spat, “I’m not the first to be expelled, and I won’t be the last. Your Academy is evil.”

	Maestro’s head spun. He threw his hands in the air and said, “I… had no clue. I’m sorry to hear that.” A deep breath. “But we had nothing to do with that. And I don’t want any more trouble. Let me and my friends go, and we’ll leave. For good. We’ll tell the folks back home to stay away from this place.” 

	Silence. The Gengar and the Snivy glanced at one another. A slight nod. They then stared at Maestro. 

	“I have a better idea,” the Gengar said. 

	Maestro licked his lips. “And that is?” 

	The Gengar motioned to the tablets. “We’ll let you three go. Hell, you can even take the tablets with you. It’s not like we use them. But in exchange, you tell the Academy to steer clear of this place.” A devilish grin then washed over the Ghost type’s face. 

“And… you let me use your body.”

Maestro’s eyes widened. The sudden change in tone caught him off-guard. “Use? Like… you want to have sex with me?”

The Gengar rolled his eyes. He flapped his hand aimlessly in the air. “I’m a Ghost type. 
I have no body,” he explained, and passed his hand through his abdomen. “So I can’t experience sex without a vessel.”

	“And so you want to possess me… for sex,” Maestro replied, his jaw agape.

	“Temporarily.” The Gengar chuckled. “What do you say? Call it a… sacrifice for your research.” He then motioned toward Sid. “Oh, and he’d like a taste. We’re both a bit… pent up. And we expect to have a go at your friends, too.” 

	The Meowscarada glanced at his friends. The pair still laid prone in the Snivy’s grasp, gazing desperately at Maestro. 

Maestro sighed. He didn’t have a choice. They needed to escape… and more than that, they needed the tablets. And he surely couldn’t overpower both Pokémon on his own… 

	“Fine,” Maestro said. “Let’s do it. But you better uphold your end of the deal. And let my friends go. Now.” 

	The Gengar’s grin widened. “Of course,” he said, and snapped. “Sid? Free them.”

	Sid nodded and slowly uncoiled his vines from Rubrum and Fey’s bodies. The pair gasped as the pressure was released from their chests.

	“F–fuck. I thought I was toast,” Fey huffed. He stood, coughed, and stumbled to Maestro’s side. “Thanks, Maestro.” 

	Rubrum followed in tow, adjusting his glasses. “Yes, thank you,” he said, and turned to Sid. “I believe you bent my glasses,” he said. “Do be more careful if you use your vines again.”

	For the first time, Sid smiled. “Sure,” he said. “Sorry.” 

	Then, a moment of quiet. The five Pokémon stood facing one another. They were actually doing this. For research. Yes, definitely for research.

	“Ready to begin?” the Gengar asked.

	Maestro relaxed his shoulders. “Sure,” he said. “Go for it.”

The Gengar smiled. His body evaporated into a fine violet mist. The cloud of smoke floated steadily toward the feline. For just a moment, it hovered before his nose. 

“My name is Grimm, by the way,” the Gengar said.

	Maestro nodded. “Good to know.” And the mist slowly entered his nose. The scent of patchouli and petrichor filled his nostrils.

	More silence as the Pokémon waited for the effects to set in. At first, Maestro felt nothing. He smiled, unaware that his spinal cord was being infiltrated. “Maybe I’m impenetrable,” he joked.

The feline’s fingertips then began to tingle and numb. His arms shook, his knees locked. Labored breaths poured from his chest as his nervous system was forcibly hijacked from the inside. His lungs, his eyelids, they all convulsed. 

	“I–is he alright?” Rubrum asked. “Should we stop?” 

	Sid rolled his eyes. He said, “This is the worst part. Just wait.”

	Fey, Rubrum, and Sid watched helplessly as Maestro’s body gradually stilled itself. The feline’s paw shakily curled itself into a fist, then released. He cracked his neck, then kicked his foot. 

	“This body is a nice one,” Grimm said. His gravelly voice emanated from Maestro’s mouth. “No wear and tear, no pain. I really like it.” 

	Rubrum frowned. “Well, don’t get used to it,” he said. “Tell me, can Maestro still see and hear us?” 

	Grimm nodded, paw on his chin. “Yes,” he said. “Maestro is still here. He can see, hear, and feel what I do. He’s just not in control. And frankly, he’s a lot more turned on by this than he lets on.” 

	Somewhere inside the feline’s body, Maestro’s consciousness curled up in embarrassment. Grimm was right. As much as he projected a dominant and cocky persona, he adored being controlled. And now, he was helpless. 

	“So,” Grimm said, licking his maw. A toothy smirk flashed across his face. “Professor Rubrum… won’t you kiss your beloved student?” 

	Blush rose to Rubrum’s cheeks. Supernatural power emanated from Grimm, making the Lucario’s fur stand on-end. The thought of having sex with such a powerful and dangerous being… gosh, he felt himself getting hard already.

	“Fine,” Rubrum said, and stepped forward. The buttons of his blazer swiftly released, revealing the canine’s nude figure. “But don’t be gentle with me. If you’re going to use Maestro’s body tonight, make it count.”

Grimm laughed and wrapped his claws around Rubrum’s lower back. The two stood face-to-face in the warm summer air. “Of course,” Grimm replied. “Now… are you a masochist, professor?” 

Rubrum’s tail flitted at the suggestion. He teased, “Well, I’d do anything for my research. And if that means bleeding for my work, then so be it.”

Grimm’s paw moved itself over the undulations of Rubrum’s shoulder. “I can see that,” the spirit said. “There are still bite marks on your shoulder. It seems that you and your students have been busy.” 

Internally, Maestro quivered. Fuck. The Gengar was observant. He watched helplessly as his own paw pads grazed along his professor’s biceps, then along Rubrum’s chest. The red tip of his penis emerged shyly from its green sheathe and butted itself against Rubrum’s chubby thigh.

“You have a nice body, professor,” Grimm snarled. He unsheathed his claw and traced it down the plexus of the canine’s chest. “Your breasts are toned, your abdomen is muscular. I love the cream-color of your fur.” His claws then grazed Rubrum’s tummy, eliciting a labored gasp from the canine. “As an appreciator of mortal vessels, I can say with confidence… yours is one of the best I’ve ever seen.” 

Rubrum gulped as his body was thoroughly inspected by the curious spirit. Grimm’s fingers slid along the grooves of his pecs, down to his abs, then further downward until he reached Rubrum’s package. 

“Let’s see how big you are, shall we?” Grimm teased, and slid his fingers into the canine’s sheath. He was met by the moist warmth of Rubrum’s cherry-red canine cock, a throbbing pink knot at its base. Rubrum stifled pathetic whimpers as Grimm wrapped his fingers gently around his nut. 

“G–gentle,” Rubrum breathed. He gazed helplessly at Grimm’s wide toothy smile. “My knot is very, very sensitive.” 

“Oh?” Grimm teased, giving it a gentle squeeze. Warm flesh pulsated against his fingers as Rubrum’s dick slid from within its thick navy blue sheathe. Grimm’s breath washed over Rubrum’s maw. “What, does my good boy like it when I touch his knot?” Grimm teased.

“Mmmmmmmmph.” Rubrum jerked his head back and moaned. F–fuck. He didn’t expect that Grimm would go straight for his most vulnerable spot. Warm precum dripped from the tip of his cock and dribbled onto Grimm’s mint-colored fur. 

Without warning, Grimm then lunged toward Rubrum’s shoulder and bit down, causing the frightened canine to quiver in shock. Rubrum’s knees nearly gave out. Delicious pain radiated down his spine. His nerves melted into a gooey overstimulated mess. A pathetic shriek emanated from his lips, his arms helplessly digging into Grimm’s shoulder blades. 

The smell of iron filled Grimm’s nostrils as he lifted his maw from the professor’s shoulder. He deftly licked the blood off of his front teeth and said, “Just as I thought. The teeth marks line up.” A self-assured smirk. “Maestro was the one to bite you before. It seems you two have a special relationship.” 

“A–and if we do?” Rubrum shot back, adjusting his glasses. 

Grimm raised his eyebrows. “Well, it explains a few things.” He moved himself close to Rubrum’s face. “Your student’s heart jumps when he tastes your blood. And his chest flutters when he sees your face. Frankly, it’s embarrassing how much he loves you.” 

Maestro couldn’t believe his ears. In one fell swoop, Grimm casually laid the feline’s feelings bare. Maestro squirmed, attempting to regain control of his body; but his efforts were futile. He was forced to watch as his innermost desires flooded from his own mouth.

“I–is that really how he feels?” Rubrum asked. 

“Yes. And it’s sickening,” Grimm added. “But more than that… well, I find Maestro’s embarrassment quite arousing.”

Grimm then wrapped himself around Rubrum, his tongue digging past the canine’s teeth and into his soft maw. The spirit had waited years to taste a mortal’s tongue, and he wasted no time. His claws raked across Rubrum’s back and pulled him close against the feline’s fur. Hot breath arose between their dancing tongues and dissipated into the night.

Off to the side, Fey’s breathing quickened. His tail uncontrollably wagged. Grimm’s unabashed confidence, the way he explored Rubrum with no holds barred… 

“I wish I could be treated like that,” Fey grumbled to no one in particular. 

Sid’s voice rang from Fey’s side: “I could help with that.” 

“Yeah?” Fey turned to face Sid. The tip of his penis poked from its snow-white sheathe. 

“Of course,” Sid said, and allowed two thick vines to emerge from his back. The dual tendrils trailed along the cold grass like snakes and grazed Fey’s thighs. “And I’m sorry for tying you up earlier,” the Snivy added. 

Fey looked askance and replied, “Well… maybe you can make it up to me by doing it again. Just a little looser this time.” 

Sid grinned. “Can do,” he said. His vines then passed over Fey’s paws and crept onto his thighs, lightly stroking the canine’s soft white fur. 

“To be honest, I’ve always wanted to fuck someone with a knot,” Sid admitted. His face was red with embarrassment. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, but with my size and all…”

Fey glanced down at the lizard and teased. “I could guess that. Your dick is showing.” 

“It is?!” Sid glanced down and saw that his penis had already emerged from its slit, poking out into the warm air. “Mmmph. I guess just feeling your fur made me horny, haha.” 

“Well don’t worry,” Fey said, and spread his legs for Sid to see. “You can see my knot as much as you want.”

The Snivy was slack-jawed at the size of Fey’s package. From a pile of milk-white fur emerged the canine’s pink cock, covered in reddish veins and ending in a spaded tip. Below Fey’s member hung a pair of fat soft testicles. The dog’s ribbons lightly traced along them, allowing the firelight to glint off of their curves.

“I–it’s huge,” Sid sputtered.

Fey giggled and teased, “And here I thought you were the powerful one. With your vines and all.”

Sid took a hesitant step forward, moving his vines to graze the insides of Fey’s thighs. “Can…I sniff it?” he asked. 

The Sylveon tilted his head. “You wanna sniff me?” he repeated.

“Mhm.” The Snivy eyed Fey’s fat package. “I just… wanna bury my head in your fur. It looks so soft.” 

Fey thought for a moment, then replied, “Sure. Why not. But I’ve been hiking all day, so I’m a little sweaty.” He then flopped on his back and splayed himself. 

Sid stifled his excitement and said, “Th–that’s fine.” He then stepped forward and bent toward Fey’s package. The Snivy was tiny compared to the canine. Fey’s package was nearly as big as his head. 

With a sizable sigh, Sid bent between Fey’s legs and huffed his balls. Fuck, the canine’s scent was intoxicatingly strong. The smell of sweat and grass mingled with Fey’s musk in Sid’s nostrils, sending the Snivy into sensory shock. His mind swam as he lowered himself deeper and deeper into Fey’s fur… 

“Woah! You really like that, huh?” Fey teased. 

Words tumbled from Sid’s little mouth. “I… uh, yeah. It’s just, um. There’s something erotic about touching you like this.” He glanced up at Fey’s cyan eyes. “Arceus, I just wanna envelop myself in your musk.” 

“Then do it!” Fey chirped.

Without a word more, Sid stuck his face flush against Fey’s huge balls, allowing his nose to sink completely into their pale fur. The canine’s plush genitals enveloped his maw, filling Sid’s nostrils fully with his scent. Sid could feel Fey throbbing and growing hard above him, the steady pumping of the canine’s blood filling his member and tugging on his sheath. 

“F–fuck. You smell so good,” Sid whimpered. His vines grew taut around Fey’s legs, spreading them further for easy access to the canine’s jewels.

“I’m glad you enjoy them,” Fey breathed. Blush rose to his face. Fuck, he didn’t know he’d be so turned on by this. The Snivy’s hot breath rose and fell against his genitals, huffing every bit of his musk in an act of worship. “I–I didn’t know someone could like my balls so much,” Fey said.

Sid surfaced for air, smiling and covered in sweat. “Well, they’re so huge…” he said, and licked his lips. “And I love the feeling of pushing my maw against them, licking them, sucking…”

“I–I do too,” Fey admitted. “Fuck. Okay. Just a little more, please.”

	The Snivy’s face lit up. “Of course!” he said, and dove back in, this time caressing Fey’s balls with his tongue. The Grass type’s tongue glided along the canine’s fur, working from the base of his cock downward. The acrid, salty taste of sweat and lust filled Sid’s mouth as he lapped at every inch of the Sylveon’s package. 

Sid’s vines then worked their way downward from Fey’s thighs and gently caressed the canine’s penis, coaxing it out from the dog’s fluffy white covering. The tendrils slipped themselves down from Fey’s shaft to his base, then lightly gripped his knot. 

The Snivy looked upward into Fey’s cyan eyes, a vacant smile splayed on his face. He rested his head on the Sylveon’s balls as he said, “Your knot is huge.” 

“I–it is,” Sylveon said. “I don’t think you could take it, haha. No offense.” 

Sid raised his eyebrow. “Not without some preparation,” he shot back.

“You… actually think you can take me fully inside of you?” 

“If I’m prepared, yes,” Sid said. His vines began to stroke Fey’s knot, causing it to throb and enlarge against his tendrils. “You’re huge, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve taken bigger inside me.” He laughed. “We’ll work up to it.”

Fey whimpered as pressure mounted in his nethers. His hips instinctively humped against Sid’s vines. “Sure. But uh, I have something kinda embarrassing to admit,” he said. 

“What is it?” Sid asked. 

Fey glanced away, clearly embarrassed. “My knot is sensitive, but I have this special…spot… that feels really good. It’s right below my knot. Like, the shaft below it.” 

“Oh?” Sid’s eyes narrowed, suddenly mischievous. His tendrils slid across Fey’s bulb and lighty gripped the thin shaft below, causing the canine’s fully exposed cock to quiver.  “Like… right here?” 

Fey threw his head back, a labored moan erupting from his maw. His tail swung wildly, his asshole tensing against Sid’s abdomen. “Y–yes!” Fey cried. “Fuck, fuck. Oh my gosh…I’m gonna…” 

Sensing Fey’s arousal, Sid quickly retracted his vines. “Woah there,” he said. “Don’t cum just yet. I’d like you to be inside me first.”

The canine’s cock flared aimlessly against the air. “Y–yeah, sorry,” he said. “I just… oh, I’m seriously sensitive there. It makes me feel like I’m fully inside someone.” 

“Yeah, well, I can make that happen,” Sid said, and climbed onto Fey’s soft tummy. The lizard’s feet pattered lightly along the canine’s chest. Sid then laid on his chest with his butt facing Fey’s face. He lifted his leafy tail, exposing his puckered hole in front of Fey’s maw. 

“If you want to be inside me, you’ll have to loosen me up first,” Sid said.

“O–oh, alright,” Fey sputtered, and raised his paws awkwardly to spread Sid wide. But before he could grasp Sid’s scales, his paws were pinned to the ground by Sid’s vines. 

“No,” Sid snapped. He glanced backward, a snide smile on his face. “With just your tongue, idiot.” 

Fey shrunk backward, grinning shyly. “Ah,” he said, and got to work. He leaned in close, pressing his snout against the base of Sid’s tail while lapping dutifully at the lizard’s ass. Sid shivered as he felt the canine’s warm, wide tongue graze his rim. His ass contracted against the warm organ, begging for more.

“I–is that okay?” Fey asked bashfully. “I’ve never eaten ass before, haha.” 

Sid simply ordered, “Keep going,” and thrust his ass back. His vines held Fey’s paws flush against the grass. “More. Now.”

	On cue, Fey took a deep breath and plunged himself back onto Sid, savoring every quiver of the lizard’s ass. Sid’s tail danced against Fey’s ears as he moaned in desperate pleasure, filling the glade with lust. The Snivy then instinctively thrust himself downward onto the Sylveon’s tongue, forcing Fey’s appendage into his asshole. 

	“O–oh! More! Farther,” Sid cried, his chest heaving. He sat himself fully on Fey’s face, allowing barely enough room for the canine to breathe. “More, please…” 

	Fey readily obliged, feverishly licking the Snivy’s tight orifice and reveling in its rhythmic tensing. The dog’s tongue pressed harshly against Sid’s prostate, causing the lizard’s vines to shake. Precum dribbled from Sid’s tiny cock onto his knuckles as he impulsively stroked himself, a little pool of lust dribbling onto Fey’s tummy. 

	Fey briefly removed himself from the Snivy’s backside. “Did you cum?” he asked. 

	“N–no, that’s precum,” Sid explained. “But it wouldn’t take much more to make me cum, honestly.” 

	The Sylveon laughed and asked, “Are you, um… ready then?” 

	Sid took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah. I–I’m ready.”

	Off to the side, Rubrum and Grimm separated their maws long enough to see their companions getting in mating position. A string of spittle stretched from Grimm’s mouth to Rubrum’s.

	“Oh. Looks like Fey is going to knot him,” Rubrum said idly. 

	Grimm joked, “Is that something you are familiar with, professor?” 

	Rubrum glanced back into Grimm’s eyes. They were crimson, a far cry from Maestro’s usual ocean blue. “On occasion,” Rubrum admitted.

	The Gengar hummed. “I can access a portion of Maestro’s memories,” he explained. “He seems to love the feeling of your insides.”

	The professor couldn’t help but chuckle and cover his eyes in embarrassment. “Yes,” he admitted. “My students top me sometimes. I can’t help that it feels so wonderful to be bred.” 

	Grimm smirked. “Then let me get a taste.”

	Breath caught in Rubrum’s throat. He shifted his feet and blurted, “Sure. But remember your promise to not be gentle.”

	“Wouldn’t dream of forgetting,” Grimm quipped. 

Rubrum smiled, then laid his elbows on the ground and raised his rump. His blue tail hung in the air and twitched as he awaited Grimm’s touch. 

	Noticing this, Sid called from across the camp: “You look good topping, Grimm!”

	The possessed Meowscarada winked, hovering above Rubrum’s backside. “And you look good bottoming for a dumb lizard,” he called back.

	Sid pouted, his chin grazing the cold grass. “At least I can bottom using my own body!” 

	Grimm raised a paw to his maw in mock offense. “Low blow, Sid. Oh, how it hurts.” 

	Fey then smiled awkwardly and interrupted the couple’s banter. “Um… are you ready, Sid?” 

	“Mhm.” Sid wiggled his bottom, beckoning Fey closer. “And don’t be afraid to fill me up. I can take the knot, I know it.”

	The canine nodded, then froze. “F–fuck. I’m soft again. Okay, just gimme a minute,” he said.

	Sid smiled mischievously in response and replied, “That’s no problem. I think I know how to solve that.” 

	Before Fey could respond, he felt soft vines creeping along his haunches. The tendrils curled along his crotch, past his package, and toward his ass. Sid’s tentacle poked and prodded at Fey’s flesh, sensing for the warmth of his hole, then slowly worked its way inside. The canine’s tail wagged uncontrollably. 

	“Mmmmmph!” Fey squinted and bit his lip, instinctively resting his chest on Sid’s back. “F–fuck!”

	Sid smirked and glanced backward. He caught a glimpse of Fey’s cyan eyes, half-lidded in a haze of shocked bliss. The dog’s tongue lolled from his mouth, a small trail of spittle leaking as he felt himself violated by the tiny lizard. 

	“Now put it in,” Sid commanded, and raised his rump.

	Wordlessly, Fey inserted the tip of his canine cock into Sid’s insides. A whine escaped Fey’s maw as Sid’s warmth greeted his penis.

	“Mmm. Your saliva makes good lubricant,” Sid teased. 

	Fey whimpered. His instincts screamed at him to thrust as hard as he could inside the tiny lizard, to fill his hole with seed. But he held back, gritting his teeth, his tail wagging, as words poured from his choked throat. 

	“A–are you sure I should put more in?” Fey asked. “You just seem too small–”

	Sid suddenly forced his slick vines further inside Fey’s ass, wriggling against the poor Sylveon’s prostate. Another vine then forced itself inside, pressing in tandem against Fey’s walls. Fey shook and gasped. 

	“Do I sound unsure?” Sid asked. “Put it inside me. Now. You want to be a good boy, don’t you?” 

	Fey whimpered. “I do wanna be a good boy,” he said, and pressed his groin farther toward Sid. His dick tapered outward, stretching the lizard’s asshole wider and wider. Sid grimaced as he felt himself expand to accommodate the canine’s quivering glans. 

	“There we go. Such a good boy,” Sid cooed. His tentacles wriggled inside Fey’s tailhole. “It feels good inside, doesn’t it?”

	Fey couldn’t help but moan. He hadn’t expected such a tiny lizard to dominate him from below. But for some reason, it turned him on. A lot. He suddenly felt the overwhelming need to gain Sid’s approval.

	“C–can I, um…” Fey shook. Fuck. He could barely speak! This was so embarrassing. He couldn’t believe he was so intimidated by such a tiny Pokémon.

Sid raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” 

Fey licked his lips and spat, “Can I breed you?”

The lizard laughed. “Why do you think I have you inside me, idiot?” 

“I know, but. I want you to give me permission. Please?” 

Sid rolled his eyes. “Yes, good boy. Your master commands you to breed him…” His vines stretched and wriggled against the dog’s prostate. 

“...Or else.”  

Fey’s eyes widened, and he began to hump the Snivy’s prone asshole. His soft white tummy pressed against Sid’s scaled back. His fluffy tail wagged happily in the air, his throbbing pink cock plunging itself in and out of his master.

“Mmmmmph.” The consistent pressure on Sid’s prostate melted his mind into a blissful puddle. He felt his shoulders and legs relax, his body converted into Fey’s willing fucktoy. “Good boy,” he cooed. “Such a good boy. That’s it. More.” He moaned fiercely, clenching his asshole around Fey’s shaft and pushing himself toward the canine’s pelvis. “More, boy. I want to hear you moan.” 

On cue, guttural moans poured from Fey’s milk-white maw into the night air, accompanied by a myriad of wet slaps. The Sylveon’s humping was rhythmic and deliberate. His veined member slid itself again and again inside Sid, throbbing at the apex of each thrust. As he moved, the contractions of his asshole tightly squeezed Sid’s vines and pulled them deeper inside himself. 

“I can sense how desperate you are,” Sid said. He struggled to maintain his dominant composure as his ass was pounded into a fine paste. “Now be a good boy and knot me. I want to feel all of you.” 

A dumb grin spread across Fey’s face. “Alright,” he chirped, and edged himself inward. One thrust, two, three. And then, in one swift push, his knot popped fully inside the Snivy. A rush of endorphins made Fey’s body shake. His legs became unsteady, and he laid his full body weight on Sid’s back. 

“F–fuck!” Fey moaned, and felt his entire body tense. His humping became a series of frantic twitches as pleasure mounted within his loins. “Fuck. Oh, Sid, I–I can’t keep it in…”

The sensation was overwhelming. Sid’s eyes watered. In truth, he’d never taken something so huge in his ass before. But the twitching, sopping wet mess of Fey’s cock made his mind swim. The canine’s bulb flared inside of him, plugging his hole and preventing even a drop of seed from dripping out.

“There we go, baby,” Sid sputtered, pressing his backside against the base of Sid’s knot. “All in now. We’re tied, so just let it out.” 

Fey attempted to reply, but words wouldn’t form in his maw. His tummy tensed, his legs faltered. Every muscle in the canine’s body tensed uncontrollably as he hugged the lizard’s flesh against his own, biting down on the Snivy’s shoulder in a visceral display of affection. The pain radiated throughout Sid’s nervous system, turning the once-dominant Pokémon into nothing more than a moaning, twitching cocksleeve. 

“Please! Harder! Harder!” Sid cried. His chest fluttered. “Breed me!” 

	On cue, the canine thrust his cock one final time into the Snivy’s tight hole. Traces of blood dribbled from Sid’s shoulder and filled Fey’s maw with the pungent scent of iron mixed with lust, sending the dog into a frenzy. His ass clenched harshly around Sid’s tendrils. Orgasmic pressure overflowed from Fey’s loins and filled his entire body, causing him to whimper and convulse as load after load of cum flooded the Snivy’s insides. His knot inflated further to its full size with every pump, dancing intricately with the lizard’s quivering insides. 

	Sid’s guts were pumped completely full of hot, sticky seed. Overstimulation overtook him. He couldn’t hold back anymore. His cock violently flared, erupting ropes of warm cum onto the cold grass. He gasped and shook, only managing to sputter a labored “Good boy” before face planting onto the ground. His breathing slowed as he gradually regained his senses. Fey then lowered himself and flopped onto his side, cuddling the prone Snivy as the pair remained tied. 

	Meanwhile, Rubrum and Grimm remained undistracted by the couple’s display. Grimm wrapped his claws around Rubrum’s shoulders, lowering his maw to the professor’s ear from behind.

	“You look positively delectable,” Grimm whispered, and chuckled. “Now tell me. Is there anything you’d like to tell Maestro before I use both of your bodies? Remember, he can hear you.” 

	Silence. Rubrum froze as he considered the question. Internally, Maestro anxiously awaited an answer.

	The Lucario sighed. His shoulders slumped, and he looked backward into Grimm’s eyes. Somehow, Maestro could tell that Rubrum was looking at him. Blood rushed to Rubrum’s face. His voice was hoarse.

	Rubrum croaked, “I love you too, Maestro. And um… spending time with you is a gift.” He then turned away, embarrassed. “Now let’s get this over with.” 

	Maestro was stunned. He wished he could respond, spill his heart in front of his professor, thank him for every moment they spent together, but instead what came out of his body was–

	“You lovebirds make me sick,” Grimm snarled, then shrugged. “Oh well. Doesn’t mean I can’t fill you up.” And he lowered himself once more to Rubrum’s ear, nibbling its edge lightly with his incisors. Rubrum couldn’t help but whimper as his body was devoured by the Gengar.

Grimm chuckled. “Aww. Quivering already, professor? We haven’t even gotten to the main course,” he teased. His tongue then licked around the periphery of Rubrum’s ear, causing its sensitive skin to flick and twitch. Rubrum attempted to contain his arousal, but couldn’t stop shivering as the Ghost type worked his soft, wet tongue along his flesh. 

The feline’s hard, tapered cock then prodded the Lucario’s pink asshole, exposing the vulnerable canine’s ass to the air. Grimm harshly grasped the base of Rubrum’s tail and held his butt upright. He raised his other paw in the air, a devilish grin adorning his face. “Ready for the rough stuff?” he asked. 

Rubrum nodded. “Yes, of course.” 

In an instant, Grimm’s outstretched claws raked across Rubrum’s back, leaving red welts where his palms struck. The Lucario yelped in pain as his body was used by the sadistic Pokémon. One, two, three strikes in rapid succession. The blows made his legs weak. He shivered and whined as he awaited another, but it didn’t come. 

Rubrum’s head suddenly jerked backwards as Grimm pulled his hair. The ghost lifted Rubrum’s head to his maw, whispering into his ear:

“I own you.”

Another flash of pain as Grimm bit into Rubrum’s neck. The sting traveled its way through Rubrum’s spine, forcing his limbs to go slack. But Rubrum barely had time to yelp before Grimm thrust himself inside the canine’s warm asshole. Rubrum shook under Grimm’s harsh embrace.

“Rough enough for you?” Grimm teased, digging his claws into Rubrum’s hips and holding him still. Rubrum attempted to answer, but his words devolved into pathetic whimpers. Inexplicably, the pain made the pleasure of being penetrated that much sweeter. He grinned stupidly, savoring his existence as a glorified fuck toy, used and abused as Grimm saw fit… 

As Grimm pumped himself in and out of Rubrum’s plump ass, Maestro on the inside remained powerless. His consciousness squirmed. Arceus, he was so ashamed. He shouldn’t be getting off on this. But Grimm’s total control over his body, the utter inability to do anything but come along for the ride as his cock greeted his professor’s warm insides…Fuck. He was really, really into this. 

Grimm gritted his teeth, further unsheathing his claws and sinking them into Rubrum’s 
flesh. “Such a good toy,” he said. His thrusts intensified. “Oh, your ass is so cute. I can’t wait to fill it up.” Another scratch across Rubrum’s back. Deep red marks criss-crossed his flesh. 

	“Beg for it,” Grimm growled. “Beg for my cum. Now.” 

	Rubrum’s voice was a whine. “P–please,” he begged, his voice perforated by the impacts of Grimm’s groin. “Please cum inside. I want to feel you.” 

	The Gengar grunted, shoving his cock fully inside Rubrum’s hole. He then laid his belly against Rubrum’s back and held the professor tightly in his embrace.

	“Then get ready,” Grimm snarled. “You’re about to become my bitch.” 

	The feline’s thrusts intensified to a fever pitch. It had been such a long time since he’d felt the touch of another mortal, let alone the warmth of one’s insides. And this Lucario was especially adorable. The way he adjusted his glasses, his thick fertile thighs, his plush fur. Grimm could barely hold it in.

	As Grimm quickened, Maestro’s consciousness squirmed. Every sensation was so familiar. The way Rubrum’s fur felt against his paws, Rubrum’s tail batting against his side, his excited whines. And yet, he was reduced to a passenger in his own body, a tool to be used. He was completely and utterly at the whims of a powerful monster, and it made the experience that much sweeter. He could feel an orgasm mounting in his loins –

	“Fuck! That’s it! Ride me!” Grimm growled, and pulled Rubrum down on his cock, eliciting a yelp from the startled canine. Deep groans permeated the air. Grimm’s legs locked, his chest fluttered, his claws drew blood from Rubrum’s soft flesh. He shook as cum forcibly erupted from his cock and coated the Lucario’s insides, spilling out onto the grass with each throb of his dick.

	Rubrum’s chest heaved as the familiar warmth of cum filled his ass. He’d never been so intensely used before. His thighs and back stung, but somehow it felt amazing. Pain and pleasure intermingled in his foggy mind until they became indistinguishable, leaving the canine a leaking, tired mess. A passing breeze cooled his tired body.

	Alas, Rubrum’s respite was short-lived. Grimm took a moment to compose himself, then unceremoniously flipped the canine onto his back. “I’m not done,” Grimm breathed, and lowered himself over the canine’s groin. “This isn’t over until I taste you.” 

Rubrum stared at Grimm with half-lidded eyes, powerless to stop him. The Lucario then nodded, a whine escaping his lips. “P–please use me,” he begged, and spread his thighs, revealing his glistening cock. 

A chuckle. “Oh, I will,” Grimm said. And the Gengar took Rubrum’s sticky glans in his maw, pumping himself roughly over its entire length. His lips kissed the canine’s knot with every thrust, massaging Rubrum’s shaft in his tight throat. The canine throbbed with each pump, humping weakly into Grimm’s maw.

“Please! More!” Rubrum cried, holding an arm over his eyes. “Just a little more! I’m gonna–”

On cue, Grimm deftly took Rubrum’s knot in his maw, cradling it between his tongue and palate. The sensation sent Rubrum over the edge, causing his body to tense and curl. Spurts of cum erupted from his dick down Grimm’s throat, filling the feline’s mouth with the familiar, acidic taste of the professor’s seed. 

	Grimm then raised himself and hummed, licking his lips. “You did good,” he said, and sheathed his claws. “Very good. You’ve more than earned your tablets, professor.” 

	Rubrum gave an exasperated laugh. “I’d say,” he huffed, and laid on the forest floor, feeling the cold grass on his cheek and listening to the Kricketune in the distance. He caught his breath and added, “Huh. It looks like Sid and Fey are cuddling.”

	“Hm. Yes. I think I can see Sid leaking over there,” Grimm said, and looked away. “Er, if you’d like, we can cuddle as well,” he added with uncharacteristic bashfulness. “I’ll give Maestro’s body back afterward, don’t worry.” 

	Rubrum smiled. “I think I’d like that,” he said, before adding, “Could it be that you’ve never cuddled anyone?” 

	A pause. “I haven’t.”

	“Then let’s fix that,” Rubrum said, and motioned to himself. 

Grimm huffed, then tentatively laid himself behind Rubrum and wrapped his arms around the canine’s chest. He sighed.

“This is nice,” Grimm said. “And Maestro loves it.” 

“I’m glad,” Rubrum said. “I can’t wait to speak with him again.”