A Dangerous Expedition

Calder the Dewott glanced at himself in the mirror, chin held high with pride. He was a teacher at the Great Academy of Augusta, and one who was quickly rising in rank and stature. While he was relatively young for his position, he was knowledgeable and competent. It was no fluke he’d risen through the ranks as fast as he had.

The Great Academy of Augusta was a meritocracy, a place where birthright or connections or wealth didn’t lead to a rise in status. Only by proving oneself—through knowledge, pluck, daring, and skill—could one rise through the ranks. It was a refreshing and promising system, one Calder was proud to be a part of.

And now was his chance to prove himself even better. The Intermediary Areas outside the Zone of Augusta were home to ancient ruins, incredible treasure, and vast trade. It was an enticing place for adventurous types like Calder who were attracted to the Great Academy.

But there was a catch. The Intermediary Areas were officially outside of any control—as such, they were a place where lowlifes flourished. Ruffians, bandits, ne’er-do-wells, even feral Pokémon; all could be found there, and they rarely had one’s best interests at heart. For that reason, to travel inside the Intermediary Areas, it was mandated that you be accompanied by at least one Pokémon with an Intermediary Certification proving that they were competent, wise, and scrappy enough to safeguard others in such dangerous areas.

Calder had visited the Intermediary Areas before, but always as a guest to another. But now, he had a chance to earn the Intermediary Certification himself—the next step up the meritocracy and a way for him to prove himself to those of the Academy!

“Easy as pie,” the Dewott muttered, throwing his saffron-colored scarf over his shoulder. He was dressed for travel, with a simple brown cloak of fine make and a belt with traveler’s satchels about his waist. The Aurum Gear—a golden, even-toothed cogwheel that served as the symbol of the Academy—was embroidered on the back of his cloak, and he wore a gleaming facsimile of that same wheel as a clasp on his garment. Calder displayed them proudly; they were signs of his affiliation with this great institution. He hoped to make the Academy as proud to have him as he was to teach there once he got his certification; another Pokémon allowed to serve the Intermediary Zones would certainly be a feather in the Academy’s cap!

After one last check to make sure his fur and whiskers were in order, Calder nodded. He was ready.

As he strode through the halls, students and teachers craned their necks as he passed, or wished him luck. This he bore with good grace, carrying his chin just a bit higher. A few whispers followed him:

“Is that Professor Calder?” “What’s he teach? ‘Illumina’s Flora and Fauna’, right?” “Wow, I didn’t realize he was so young…” “I hear he’s getting his Intermediary Certification soon!” “Ooooh, good for him!” “D’you think he’d let me accompany him out of the Zone when he gets the chance?”

The whispers buoyed him onward. He had no intent to let them down.

When Calder made his way to the staging ground, he found two familiar faces waiting for him. Aoki the Grovyle and Brae (short for Tenebrae) the Umbreon were his two best students. They were scarcely younger than Calder himself; all would be considered young adults. But while Calder had struggled to teach students his own age at first, he quickly found that it let him be approachable and friendly. He was happy and proud to serve as a mentor to them.

“Are you all ready for an expedition?” Calder said, his voice proud and eager. Both Aoki and Brae nodded eagerly. It was going to be their first expedition into the Intermediary Zone, one in which they would hopefully help to chart some ancient ruins. Calder would be staying in the background, remaining quiet and supporting his students—and, of course, ensuring that the expedition went smooth as butter. They would return with knowledge, he would return with a secure expedition under his belt, and the Academy would gain just a little more prestige—thanks to him, of course.

“Professor!” Brae said, her rings flashing excitedly. “Is it true what they say, about how dangerous the Intermediary Zones can be?”

Calder just chuffed, unimpressed. “Pfeh. I’m sure  parts  of them can be, but I’ve been out there plenty of times, and I have to say that they’re all bark. Usually one look at  this—” And he proudly flashed the gleaming golden clasp in the shape of the Aurum Gear. “—is enough to send that riffraff running. Those sorts know better than to mess with the likes of  us.” He winked at Brae, who swooned; she too wore the Aurum Gear, which dangled as a piercing from her ear.

(Frankly, anyone with eyes could see that Brae had something of a  thing  for her professor… which he’d returned. They were of similar ages and she was certainly clever enough to earn her grades, so in his view, it was hardly improper.)

Aoki just shook his head as he readied his pack, the Gear embroidered there as well. “If you two’re done,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “I think we have some ferals to go show up!”

Calder just shook his head ruefully at his student. “Now remember,” he chided, “we’re going out there for exploration and ruin charting, not to beat up ferals.” Aoki rolled his eyes, and Calder continued: “Though if any  are  foolish enough to attempt a fight…”

Aoki grinned, and the edges of his leaves momentarily glowed a vivid emerald. He and Brae weren’t just Calder’s best students for their intellect; they were fair hands in battle themselves. He was certain they could more than handle any riffraff that came their way.

Of course, Academy goers weren’t meant to pick fights over nothing—but sometimes it just felt so, so good to stomp some ferals into their rightful places.

---

A few nights later, Calder and Brae canoodled together in the small canvas tent they’d put up for the night. Aoki was outside tending the fire and keeping watch, but Calder almost felt it wasn’t necessary. After all, so far only a few ferals or ruffians had looked at them, and all he’d had to do was show off his scalchops to send them the other way.

“I never thought the intermediary lands could be so  safe,” Brae purred. The Umbreon’s paws kneaded against his chest, and she took his lips in her teeth, nibbling happily at him. Calder hissed with delight and coursed his paws down her side. He threaded his touch through her ebony-dark fur to caress the supple flesh beneath.

“What can I say?” Calder said immodestly. “With someone like  me  safeguarding you, safety’s the only option. No scofflaw would be foolish enough to mess with someone wearing the Aurum Gear.”

“But what about a student?” Brae said with faux innocence. Her paw snaked down to the sheath between his legs, batting at it to tease his long, slender cock out of its hiding place. “What if  she  wanted to mess with you?”

“Well, I’d have to say—”

“Calder!”

Aoki burst into the tent, looking wild and frightened. Half embarrassed and half angry, Calder pushed Brae off of him and rose, trying to hide his erection. “By the heavens, Aoki, can’t you give some mons their privacy?”

“There was someone lurking at the edge of camp!”

Brae’s rings flickered with sudden fear, and Calder readied his scalchops and stalked out of the tent. The night was dark, and the small campfire made the surrounding darkness feel that much more impenetrable. Only now did Calder realize just how broadly they’d beaconed their location to any surrounding watchers. He kicked dirt over the fire and splashed water on the embers. “Dim your lights,” he snapped as Tenebrae fearfully followed her teammate out into the night. She complied, her gold rings flickering down to near opaqueness.

Her eyes widened. “Y-you smell that?” she said, frightened.

Her nose was the best of all of theirs. “Smell what?” Calder whispered back. A twig snapped in the darkness. He shot a gush of water at it but there was no response nor reaction.

“B-Breeding pheromones,” Brae said, her voice small. “From more than o-one Pokémon…”

Hissing with fear, Aoki put his back to hers, the edges of his arm-leaves glimmering faintly.

“Right,” Calder said, “it’s too dangerous to stay in this camp. Brae, you’re the best in the dark, so we’ll count on you to find a safe spot off trail—”

He never finished that statement; that was the exact moment when things went wrong.

A crackle of electricity split the night as it sank into Calder’s flesh. The Dewott gasped as he sank to his knees in paralysis, twitching; his kind was weak to electricity, and it burned his flesh as it played about him. Aoki immediately broke ranks from Brae and rushed up to help him.

Fool…!  thought Calder desperately. Don’t split up!

Indeed, the consequences were immediate. A spurt of flame lit the darkness, giving Calder full view; three ferals—a Zebstrika, a Houndoom, and a Sneasler—were arrayed around their little camp in a triangular fashion. All three were males, and all showed signs of obvious arousal, with thick, exotic cocks on display. The Houndoom’s fire sent Aoki bowling over, and the moment he was vulnerable, the Houndoom rushed him.

“Aoki!” Brae’s voice was shrill as she raced to help. “Get away from—waauuuugh!”

The Sneasler made his move, lunging in and clocking her with a knee to her chin. The Umbreon staggered back, but to her credit, she marshaled herself quickly and flared her patterns to try and disorient the Sneasler. The Fighting-type scrunched his eyes together in dismay, and she lunged in, teeth needle-sharp, to sink her fangs in his leg. He hardly seemed to care, however; grabbing her throat, he yanked her off of him and chokeslammed her into the dirt.

Meanwhile, the Houndoom wasted no time. Catching up with the struggling Aoki, he mounted him without preamble, leaving the Grovyle gasping in shock. “W-wait, what’re you—AAAAUUUGHHH, hnnnnnnggghhh—”

Aoki’s voice broke as the Houndoom shoved into his ass. The canine’s cock was thick and red and unyielding, and the dog spurted a few puffs of flame happily out of his mouth as Aoki voiced his dismay.

Calder tried to rise to save his charges—he was the one in charge of the expedition, it was  his  responsibility—but the Zebstrika almost lazily zapped him again. His body seizing up, he collapsed. Brae was moaning as the Sneasler kept her pinned to the dirt. Her patterns flickered; she was vulnerable to the Fighting-type and already was no longer in fighting shape. The Zebstrika approached the pair and threw his head, nickering; something passed between him and the Sneasler. The mustelid left Brae and sauntered over towards Calder, hefting his dick with one paw, as the Zebstrika’s shadow swallowed Tenebrae.

“P-please, it’s so big…” Tears of fear were eking out of the Umbreon’s eyes as the Zebstrika lined up his cock. It was absolutely  massive,  a thick red shaft with a medial ring and a broad flared tip. “Please let us go… we…”

The Zebstrika didn’t let her finish. He nudged his cock up against her entrance, making her pupils sink to pinpricks; she babbled incoherently from fear and unwanted pleasure. A moment later, he shoved it in.

“Nnnnnggggghhhaaaahhh!”  Brae’s howl was high and piercing. She and Calder had fucked together plenty of times, but the Dewott’s cock was like a pencil compared to the Zebstrika’s. The zebra whinnied and shoved in even harder, his thick rod distending Brae’s body around it. Calder couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of him; it was nearly the size of one of Brae’s legs!

As the twin voices of his charges laid over the campsite, the Sneasler strolled up to him. The Pokémon’s pale white eyes glinted in the dark, the rest of him little more than a silhouette occasionally lit by the glow of fire or lightning as the other two ferals let their elemental powers out to play without abandon.

“Gh… ghnnk…” Calder tried to speak and tell this bastard that he would  pay  for crossing the Academy like this, but the paralysis still clung to him and made it hard to so much as move. The slender Pokémon roughly grabbed him and hoisted him up in his grip, his puckered ass hanging over his assailant’s spire.

No… no way… this can’t—

And then the Sneasler slammed him down.

Immediately there was a tremendous pressure on Calder’s ass, a pressure that wouldn’t yield. His body screamed out in sudden stimulation, yet there wasn’t anything he could do about it—he was, after all, still paralyzed.

And the Sneasler slipped in.

Calder’s paralytic body managed a wheeze of sudden feedback. He was pretty sexually active, but had never been on the receiving end of anal before. Immediately, he thanked his stars that he was paralyzed for this; he normally would’ve inflexibly clenched up, but now his ass was loose and remained as such. When the Sneasler slid in, it was with relative ease.

Still, his eyes watered as he was forced to spread around the Sneasler’s cock. A deep ache radiated out from his ass into the rest of him, an ache that quickly thudded in time to his beating heart. As the Sneasler snickered and began rolling his hips back and forth, the pulse picked up, and to Calder’s humiliation, the ache in his ass began morphing into something else:

Deep, deep pleasure.

His eyes nettled with tears, the Dewott’s whiskers twitched and he wheezed with unwanted stimulation. His own cock was now fully erect, even more than it had been with Brae, and was throbbing in time to his racing pulse. The Sneasler picked up his pace and Calder’s body flopped along with him, and his pulse quickened; his eyes widened and he strained in denial. This… he couldn’t be  liking  this, he…

“P-Professor…  please!”

Brae’s voice cut through his attention; he managed to glance out the side of his eyes at her. The Zebstrika was still barreling into her, his thick enormous cock absolutely plowing her again and again. Her whole body bucked, and from the flush in her fur and the way that slick feminine juices were pooling between her legs, it seemed that she—like Calder himself—was grappling with unwanted enjoyment.

“Wh-what do we, hnnngh, d-doooooo…” Her tongue lolled from her mouth. Calder found himself feeling desperate and defeated. Even if he wasn’t paralyzed, he didn’t have an answer. He was the one meant to safeguard this trip… He was supposed to protect himself and his students.

Nearby, Aoki whimpered as the Houndoom slammed into him again. The Grovyle was down on his hands and knees like a rutting beast, his eyes wide and unfocused as the canine had his way with his prey. The thick red rocket slammed in again—and then, with a  pop,  the knot slipped in. Aoki shuddered bodily and his twin hemipenes both sprayed hot spunk as he was forced to nut. Calder felt beyond distraught; a proud, promising Pokémon, someone who bore the Aurum Gear, reduced to  this…

A sudden, piercing bloom of pleasure spread through his body and Calder gasped as sexual bliss of a strength he’d never encountered before  erupted  through him. The Sneasler had nudged his prostate. He shut his eyes as he came, as if not seeing the act would somehow dull the humiliation. For an instructor of the Academy to cum from being used by a feral… it was…  he was[i]…

A failure,  he realized. His body weak, Calder endured the onslaught as the Sneasler kept on fucking him through the afterglow. He shuddered as sticky wet warmth blossomed through him as his assailant came. Completely enthralled by the sensation, he only partially realized that the Sneasler slipped out of him. With Calder still mostly paralyzed and weak from his assault, he couldn’t even put up a token resistance as the Sneasler picked him up and carried him off. As it did, he idly realized that the other two were dragging their captives along too.

They’re abducting us,  he realized. That could only mean one thing—that this indignity was not a one-off nightmare. That they had more to expect.

And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Someone help us… someone…

---

Brae woke enormously, tremendously sore. Though her mind was hazy, she still had clear recollection of what she and the others had been through: They’d been ambushed… taken…

Her gut twinged. R-raped…

“Nggguuuhhhh,” she groaned, trying to rise on jellied limbs. It was barely manageable for her and she couldn’t even take a step before she collapsed weakly, panting. Her poor pussy ached and her body felt exhausted; given that she’d taken the cock of a Pokémon that had to be at least three times her size, it was a miracle she was still standing.

“—let him go!  Leave him alone!”

Calder’s voice was fierce and desperate. With a shaky look, Brae chanced a glance sideways. As her vision settled, she realized they were in a dimly-lit cave that smelled of feral musk. Calder was chained to the cavern wall in tight, uncomfortable-looking metal shackles. Who had installed  those  was anyone’s guess. He hurled himself helplessly at his bonds and screamed to try and dissuade the sight going on in front of him.

Brae’s heart lurched. Aoki was splayed between two of their assaulters, the Zebstrika and the Sneasler. The Zebstrika’s electricity played around his body to a point where it was obvious the poor Grovyle was completely paralyzed; he couldn’t even whimper, though Brae saw the glimmer of desperation in his eyes. The Sneasler was taking him from behind, the weasel Pokémon laughing mockingly as he slammed his cock into Aoki’s asshole. Every thrust made the Grass-type’s two hemipenes throb with what could only be unwanted pleasure.

But if the Sneasler was having his fun, then the Zebstrika was doing so just as well. The big bulky equine had his two hooves draped over Aoki’s shoulders and his cock lined up with Aoki’s mouth. He rutted his thick horseshaft directly into Aoki’s mouth; Brae winced just looking at it. Her friend’s jaw had to ache just stretching far enough to accommodate it and his throat bulged obscenely out. From the way that some thick fluid leaked from the corners of Aoki’s mouth, it was clear that the Zebstrika had cum more than once. The Grovyle’s eyelids fluttered in such a way that Brae feared he might pass out.

“Aoki!  Aoki!” Tears howled their way down Calder’s face. “I’ll get you out of here! You and Brae, I swear it! You feral  bastards!  Leave him alone!”

None of their captors reacted in any way other than general acknowledgement. Brae got the sense that they didn’t even understand what words  were.

They’re completely feral,  she realized fearfully. They absolutely can’t be reasoned with.  In a way, she almost pitied them. As a sapient Pokémon, the thought of living like these creatures—a slave to her instincts, little more than an animal—was fearful indeed. She almost couldn’t blame them…

But they’d raped her, raped her friend, her lover. Her pity only extended so far.

With a wordless cry, Calder shot water at the Zebstrika. He shook his head, whinnying and snorting with obvious contempt. From a dark corner of the cave, the Houndoom melted out of the darkness, snarling menacingly. Calder tried to turn his attention to the Houndoom, but the canine Pokémon bullrushed him and angled the captive down towards his own cock—

“Ullp—glllnnnppp!” Calder closed one eye as his mouth surged full of Houndoom dick. The canine draped his paws around his captive’s neck and fucked into him again and again. Calder whimpered, making pathetic noises as the dog face-fucked him—and then his jaw swelled even further as the knot pressed its way inside. His throat bulged as the Houndoom came inside.

He can’t do anything,  Brae realized. Calder was the strongest of them and was supposed to shepherd them through the Intermediary Area, but he had been reduced to a feral’s sex-pet just as the other two had. As she watched her lover kick his paws in a helpless drive to free himself, the Sneasler withdrew from Aoki with a cackle and stalked over to her. It seemed he’d noticed she was awake…

“No,” she whispered as he straddled her. Breeding pheromones were  reeking  off of her. “Please…”

But he had his way regardless, and as her body was violated, she realized that their only hope was for outside rescue.

But the Academy will send someone,  she thought desperately. They have to. They have to! We only have to… endure…

---

Aoki wasn’t sure how much time they’d spent in this cave. It could only have been a day or two, but it seemed much, much longer. His body ached; his holes had been used so thoroughly that it seemed impossible he might ever use them normally again, and his hemis felt sore from spending so many hours erect. Their three captors had passed their captives amongst each other, though each had clear favorites: the Sneasler’s was Calder, the Zebstrika’s was Tenebrae, and the Houndoom’s was Aoki himself.

The ferals were not intelligent, but they were cunning—they knew to always have one of them stay in the cave, even if just asleep, to ensure no escape. Calder, the most dangerous of the captives, had been chained up. Brae and Aoki, meanwhile, were dosed regularly with electricity to keep them in a state of near-perpetual paralysis.

Frankly, Aoki was so weak and exhausted from the constant violation that he didn’t think he could escape even without that handicap.

The Sneasler and Zebstrika were out and the Houndoom dozing in the corner; Calder and Brae were stealing snatches of whispered conversation, as they were wont to do when they thought they could get away with it.

“I’m so so sorry,” Calder said, his voice choking. “Aoki… Brae…”

“They had surprise, Professor,” Brae said, wearing a weak smile. “And type advantages.”

“But still… I failed you all, I…”

“It’s okay,” she said. “When we get back to the Academy, we can figure out what we did wrong.”

What foolish sentiment. The two of them still spoke as if they would escape. Didn’t they realize yet there was no escaping this? The ferals were already in the Intermediary Area, but they’d further dragged them off the path into Arceus-knew-where. They were in no-mon’s-land. They weren’t escaping without the help of others, and others would never be coming.

Still, Aoki couldn’t bring himself to tell them that. Upon internalizing the perpetuity of his captivity he’d fallen into despair. Life was like a numb nightmare. He often dreamed of being taken; of the Houndoom forcing a knot into him or the Zebstrika shocking him. His dreams and his waking moments were harder and harder to tell apart.

But Calder and Brae, it seemed, were not yet at that point. Let them last a little bit longer.

When the Sneasler and Zebstrika returned, the ferals celebrated with their typical orgy. The Houndoom had taken his favored spot, knotting Aoki’s ass, while Brae screamed for mercy as the other two tag-teamed her. His body was so weak that he finally gave out.

When Aoki came to, the cave was dark and quiet, though he could smell that all their captors were nearby. There was another, more mysterious scent… it was akin to the breeding pheromones the ferals gave off, but decidedly different. It smelled like—

And Aoki’s heart spiked as he placed it. It was the smell of a pregnant female.

He realized that Brae was sobbing softly to herself. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, I don’t want to, I  can’t…”

The chains clinked against the wall. Calder was awake, though he wasn’t reacting. Aoki didn’t blame him. How could he respond to this revelation that his lover was going to bear a  feral’s  child?

“Brae, when… when we get back… to…” Calder finally said. His voice was weak and haltering, and he didn’t sound like he believed himself. Once again, Aoki didn’t blame him.

“Get back?” Brae said between sobs. “Calder, we’re not getting back. This is our  life  now.”

There was a moment of terrible silence before the Dewott spoke. “You… you don’t mean that.”

“She’s right, Professor,” Aoki replied. He bent his forehead against the filthy cavern floor. “She’s right.”

They weren’t ever going to escape.

---

“And they’re still not back?”

“No—not yet.”

Professor Rubrum felt no small measure of disquiet. The Lucario scholar was a well-respected teacher at the Great Academy, and someone who held an Intermediary Certificate himself. He’d eagerly awaited news of the success of Calder, an up-and-coming member of the Academy’s staff; the Dewott had one final task left before he could earn his own certification, which was to supervise a successful expedition. It was to a ruin not far past the boundaries, and he had two strong teammates with him as well. So why hadn’t he returned yet?

And for that matter, why had they not even heard anything from him?

Rubrum’s star pupil—and intimate partner—Maestro the Meowscarada paced back and forth. Maestro wore his usual stylish, elegant clothing, but with a golden cogwheel pinned to his cloak. His long, leaf-like ‘scarves’ flapped past him as he paced.

“And we haven’t even heard from them at all?” Maestro demanded.

Rubrum shook his head. “No.” They were supposed to have checked in once they arrived at the ruin. (Rubrum knew it well; as the Academy’s foremost archaeologist, he’d visited almost every ruin and historic site remotely close to the grounds of Augusta.) “At this point, we’re certain that they ran afoul of bandits, ruffians, or ferals.” He sighed, tugging at his wrist. “So the Academy has tapped me to go in and see what’s become of them…”

“Rubrum, please!” Maestro’s voice was sharp and insistent. “You have to let me come with you. I  know  Brae and Aoki! If some wicked Pokémon got their paws on them…” He trailed off, clenching his fist, and Rubrum shot his lover a measured eye.

“You’d what? Kill them in revenge?”

Maestro visibly softened. “…no. I’d mount a rescue mission, of course.”

Rubrum considered it. Maestro was competent in battle, and an extra set of paws would be good to have. But did he trust his hot-headed companion out there in the Intermediary Area?

What was he thinking. Of course he did. There was nobody he trusted more—even if he had to rein him in sometimes.

“…I’ll let you come with me,” Rubrum sighed. He reached over and placed a paw on Maestro’s shoulder. “But please, be careful and follow my lead.”

Maestro leaned in, brushing his muzzle against Rubrum’s cheek in a soft kiss. “I’ll keep us both safe,” he said.

---

Thankfully, Calder’s planned route was easy to track; Rubrum had traveled it himself several times. While the Dewott and his two companions had passed several days before, they’d made no real effort to conceal their tracks, so Rubrum found it simplicity to hound their trail—

And, as he realized with an increasingly sinking stomach, he wasn’t the only one.

“Someone else was tracking our colleagues,” Rubrum said, brushing his paw over a large hoofprint pressed into the mud. The faintest kiss of static electricity zapped his fur, and his suspicions were confirmed—a Zebstrika. An Electric-type… Calder would have a hard time facing off against the likes of that.

“I know,” Maestro said. His pristine, cream-colored fur danced idly in the breeze as he studied the trail. “And it looks like there was more than one.”

Even better,  Rubrum thought ruefully. He rose and dusted himself off. His traveling clothes were still scholarly; an emerald vest over his torso with a long, comfortable scarf wrapped around his neck. The Aurum Gear was embroidered on the back. He wore oblong spectacles at all times, and even out in the wild, he kept them impeccable and clean of dust.

“I’d say that someone waylaid our companions,” Rubrum said. “Let’s only hope we find them intact.”

About half a day’s journey away from the intended destination of the ruins, the trail erupted into obvious signs of a scuffle amidst the scattered remains of a campsite. “Gods,” swore Maestro, reading the battleground, “it was barely even a  fight.  Their assailants overpowered them immediately.”

Rubrum concurred; but that wasn’t the only info he’d pieced together from this. “There’s no sign of death—the assailants didn’t kill them, they dragged them off.”

Maestro’s ears twitched. “Ransoming them from the Academy?”

It was a solid guess, but Rubrum shook his head. “No, any bandits around here know better than to provoke the Board of Directors like that—besides, they would have sent a ransom message already. These assailants are the sort who don’t care about leaving a trail and who don’t have the presence of mind to avoid angering the school.”

“Ferals?” Maestro said. “But… but why would ferals take Academy Pokémon alive?”

“You haven’t figured it out?” Rubrum said. “Smell the air again.”

Looking perturbed, Maestro obliged, his pink, triangular nose twitching—and then his eyes widened enormously. “…breeding pheromones,” he said. “They faded over the days but they’re faintly still there…”

“Yep,” Rubrum said. “Our friends are almost certainly serving as wild breeding stock.”

Maestro growled angrily, his claws flexing. “Not for long, they won’t be.”

---

The two of them tracked the trail off the main, established roads and into a series of rugged hills. They moved stealthily, hoping not to alert their quarry to their presence.

Thankfully, they didn’t have far to go. The ferals had sprung their trap when their prey were close to their den. Before long, the two Pokémon encountered the entrance to a low, circular cavern dug into a stoney hillside. They parked themselves at the entrance, staking it out.

Maestro’s ears twitched. “Can you hear that?” he hissed, voice sharp with indignation. Rubrum nodded. He could hear it—and smell it, too.

The burrow reeked of the stale, sweaty scent of animalistic sex. Days’ worth of accumulated fluids had stained the air, making it abundantly clear what was happening inside that burrow. Even to a civilized Pokémon like him, the pheromones on display were overbearing; to a simple-minded feral, they might well have overridden everything to leave them on breeding instinct.

To say nothing of the sound. A haggard, feminine voice was croaking up the tunnel; Brae’s, certainly. She was whimpering and pleading in time with a series of wet slaps, making it impossible not to gauge what was happening down there. More wet slaps were piercing the air; a defeated moan from Calder, and growls from a canine Pokémon and whinnies from an equine.

Rubrum exhaled. Okay. They had to sit tight and think this through. They had to wait—

With decisiveness, Maestro rushed into the cave, and Rubrum’s heart spiked. “Maestro!” he hissed. “Wait!” With nothing for it, he had no choice but to follow his protégé into the den.

He caught up with Maestro on a narrow lip of stone overlooking a low hollow set with a few smoldering torches in the walls. Filthy, matted straw served as ‘beds’, and a rough-chiseled set of stone stairs snaked down from the lip to the hollow proper.

Rubrum caught Maestro’s shoulder and pulled the Meowscarada back before he could leap into action. The sound made one of the Pokémon below glance up, but Rubrum had successfully hidden them both from sight, and the Pokémon’s attention was soon elsewhere.

“What are you doing?” Rubrum said, his voice a furious whisper. Maestro’s eyes were wide and angry.

“What are  you  doing? They need our help!”

Rubrum couldn’t deny that. Before dragging his friend back, he’d caught a momentary glimpse of the sight below. There were six Pokémon in all: the three missing from the Academy, and their captors, all males.

It had been an uncomfortable sight, to say the least. Maestro’s Grovyle friend had been slumped over on all fours, eyes half-lidded and looking completely defeated, as a belligerent Houndoom had his way with him. The canine Pokémon had draped his paws over Aoki’s shoulders, his claws digging into the Grass-type’s scales, and was furiously ravishing Aoki’s ass. From the distension visible even from atop the overhang, it was clear that the Houndoom packed an absolutely massive piece of equipment, complete with a knot. Aoki’s two hemipenes were both ramrod-straight and jetting spunk down onto the floor beneath; a sticky pool collecting amidst his limbs showed this was far from the first time he’d been forced into orgasm this way.

Calder, the one responsible for safeguarding his students, was chained to the wall by a rusty set of manacles. A Sneasler was bouncing him in his lap, chuckling as his cock easily plundered the instructor’s holes. The two mustelids had similar cocks—both long and thin. But the Sneasler’s was bigger, and was easily forcing into his ass; the instructor winced with every push, his own cock dribbling juices down his tip to stain the fur around his balls. “Stop…” Calder moaned, his voice raspy from unwanted pleasure as the Sneasler hilted in him. His eyelids fluttered. “H-haaahhh… j-just… let my students go and I… I’ll be yours forever, I swear… just let them go…  please…”

Rubrum’s heart went out for the poor fellow. Ferals like this, lost in the throes of instinct, would never be swayed by words alone, even if they could understand them. And besides, what was he offering? As far as these beasts were concerned, he was already theirs—all three of them were.

But of all the captives, Rubrum felt the most sympathy for Tenebrae. The Umbreon was being taken by a Zebstrika, the absolutely massive equine towering over her. Her body quaked as she was repeatedly railed by the Electric-type, her legs quivering as she struggled to stay standing. Her crimson eyes were wide with defeated horror, and her rings flickered in a desperate staccato. “I don’t… want this…  nnnnn… I don’t want to… have a… f-feral baby!”

Her words chilled Rubrum. He poked his head over the lip again. Her stomach did look rounder and fuller than he would’ve expected for an Umbreon; he’d taken it for distension from the Zebra’s horsecock, but… now that he looked, the curve was wrong. Pokémon pregnancies were fast, and her type was compatible with most equines. This once-proud student had become a feral’s personal broodmare.

“Fuck.”  Maestro’s voice shook with rage. “We’re too late… Brae, she…”

“She can get through this once we’re back at the Academy,” Rubrum said. “We have to think this through. We’re at a disadvantage here. The Sneasler would do well against you, and the Houndoom trumps us both…”

“My friends need help!” Maestro said. He made as if to rise and Rubrum only barely got him down. “Rubrum, we have to help them!”

“We can’t underestimate them like Calder and the others!” Rubrum cautioned. “Or do you want to end up like them? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life as a sex slave, knowing you couldn’t help your friends?”

Maestro looked upset, but he slowly nodded. “Fine. Fine! What do you have in mind?”

Thankfully, Rubrum had a plan.

They waited a few minutes while the ferals continued having their way with their captives, planning to launch their surprise in a time when all three Pokémon’s intercourses were reaching a crescendo. Waiting even those few minutes, listening to their companions’ defeated moans and denials, was torturous. Rubrum only hoped they could forgive him. Finally, once the sounds indicated that the parties were all in the throes of intense sex, they sprung the plan.

With a cry, Maestro used his species’ innate illusiveness to quickly shift down to the cavern floor. He did so flashily, with an explosion of smoke and bright lights and flower petals. As expected, he drew the ferals’ attention.

The Houndoom immediately spat a gout of flame. This was the biggest threat; thankfully, Maestro’s misdirection held as the flame dissipated his illusion. The real Meowscarada melted out of the smoke and lunged at his nearest combatant, the Zebstrika, with his claws.

The captives all looked astonished; after days of assuming they’d inevitably suffer an abysmal fate, hope was finally within their grasp. “Maestro!” Brae said, her voice desperate. She recognized her friend and classmate. “Please, help us!”

The Meowscarada tightened. He meant to.

As Maestro scored the Zebstrika, the equine shocked him in response. Maestro grunted as electricity zapped through him, but a Grass-type like him was thankfully well-equipped to fight off such assaults. Brae gasped and spasmed as she too was shocked, but her wild face turned resolute and she sank her fangs into a nearby leg of the Pokémon that was still rutting her.

As the Zebstrika reared in pain Brae popped off him, quivering against the floor. The Houndoom turned his face towards Maestro, his maw spilling with embers.

The Meowscarada smirked. Their quarry had taken the bait.

Rubrum leapt off the balcony, a glimmering sphere of aura reverberating between his hands before he sent it rocketing out to smash against the Houndoom. The blow knocked the Pokémon out in one fierce assault and he collapsed sideways. Rubrum leapt over to him and eased Aoki off his knot. The Grovyle looked exhausted and seemed to be barely keeping it together. He raised his head to thank Rubrum, only for his eyes to widen. “L-Look out!”

The warning came just in time. Rubrum spun to see the Sneasler lunging at him, wide claws sweeping in a ferocious arc. He leaned back, narrowly dodging the blow, as the Sneasler pushed the attack. He was as fierce as he was swift; it was no surprise that Calder and his students had fallen to a Pokémon like this. Rubrum managed to avoid taking any hard hits, but the onslaught was enough to stop him from readying a counterattack. Aoki had collapsed; that warning was all the help he’d provide. Rubrum couldn’t fault him. He’d endured a lot.

As the Sneasler backed Rubrum into a corner, claws clacking against each other, Rubrum knew he was in dire straits. The Pokémon had a type advantage against him, Maestro, and everyone but Calder, who was still chained up. If this feral was lucky, he might take them all down…

But as the Pokémon lunged at him, a sudden geyser smashed into the back of his head. The Sneasler grunted with pain and lurched sideways, narrowly missing, and Rubrum sunk a paw into the Sneasler’s gut, the Pokémon doubling over.

“T-take that!” Calder said. He was still chained to the wall, but he’d braced his lower paws against the stone surface. “You rapist bastard!”

Before the Sneasler could respond, Rubrum unleashed a fast tempo of blows against him, each following after the other like the notes of an arpeggio. Then he grabbed the Pokémon and, with all his strength, hurled him bodily into the air. As the Poison-type Pokémon soared helplessly overhead, Calder snarled again, his whiskers twitching. His eyes glowed blue and he shot a ferocious burst of water at his captor. The surge smashed the Sneasler even further, knocking him into the cavern’s ceiling; when he finally dropped to the floor, he was unconscious.

Meanwhile, both Maestro and Brae were mopping up the Zebstrika. The Pokémon was big, but unwieldy, and Maestro easily weathered his electric attacks. The cat shook off bolts and zaps with righteous indignation, using his species’ signature bouquet to tangle around the zebra’s legs and send him toppling earthward.

With an angry cry, Brae summoned umbral power that lashed the Zebstrika as a whip of shadow, again and again and again; then Maestro wreathed his fist in dark power and clocked the zebra right in the forehead. The Zebstrika’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped down, defeated.

And that was that—the ferals were no longer a threat, and their captives were rescued.

Rubrum quickly made for Calder and deftly worked to undo the chains holding him to the wall. As he undid the first clasp, he saw that Calder’s fur was rubbed away and his skin was raw where the manacles had held him. It looked enormously painful. As the Dewott slumped into Rubrum’s grasp, he held Calder close. “Easy, there. I’ve got you.”

“Brae and Aoki, I… I let them down.” Calder’s voice was tight with emotion. “I was supposed to keep them safe but I… I couldn’t…”

Rubrum just held him close, letting him deal with his emotions. Slowly he helped Calder make his way over to Aoki, the Dewott checking up on the near-delirious Grovyle. “He’ll recover,” Rubrum said. “You all will.”

Calder shot him a glance that spoke to his reticence. Perhaps they  would  recover—physically. But it would take a long while to get over spending a good half-week as little more than other Pokémon’s playthings.

Brae, meanwhile, was kicking and biting at the unconscious Zebstrika, her voice piercingly furious and tears streaming down her cheeks. “You bastard—using me like that—how  dare  you—I d-don’t want to—I’m not ready to be a mother—”

She finally collapsed, burying her face in one paw as she sobbed. Her other reached down to touch the gentle swell of her belly, the incontrovertible evidence of what she’d endured there. It was terribly unfair—all three of them would be haunted by what happened here, but Brae would have longer consequences still.

---

Maestro and Rubrum helped escort the three back to the Academy. The idea of actually making it to the ruin and seeing their initial quest through never even came up. All three knew they’d failed their mission; all they wanted now was to return.

They moved slowly, perhaps half-pace compared to normal. They had to go slow, for the captives’ sake. All three of them moved tenderly and were jumpy and frightened at everything. Rubrum couldn’t blame them. He would’ve been in a bad state too, were he in their shoes. He and Maestro were constantly vigilant, doing their best to make sure a repeat of the initial calamity would not reoccur.

The trio mostly kept to themselves, despite his attempts to get them to talk. Brae and Aoki were slightly more forthcoming to Maestro, their old classmate and friend, but they still didn’t say much. They moved together in a huddle, sometimes whispering but often spending their company in long periods of silence.

At night, Brae rubbed her stomach with an air of melancholy, and more than once Calder approached her, threading his paw with hers and sharing rushed whispers. Even given the swiftness of Pokémon pregnancies, her stomach was growing very big very fast. If it was an Eevee, it would hardly be surprising. But if her child took after its sire, well…

The first night, Aoki had woken the camp, howling from a desperate nightmare. “No, please—not the knot—I’M BEGGING—”

It had taken careful whispers from both Brae and Calder to calm him down, and the three of them had huddled together for safety and comfort. Outside their tent, Rubrum reflected that if one positive thing could be imagined from this ordeal, it was that the three of them seemed to have increased their bond through their shared trauma. Even after they recovered from it, they would likely remain inseparable.

Small victories,  he thought.

As they moved back to the Academy, Brae’s tummy swelled by the day. By the time they crossed into civilized lands, she was noticeably, visibly pregnant, and waddled along in an ungainly stride. Her face was iron, and she kept her gaze fixed ahead as townsfolk in the Outer Circle pointed and whispered. For a female to walk into feral lands and return pregnant…

Well, tongues would wag.

Eventually the Great Academy itself loomed before them. All three rescuees visibly relaxed; it promised safety and solitude. As they approached it, Rubrum took Calder aside.

“I’ll speak to our superiors,” he said. “You mustn’t blame yourself. Maybe in a year or two you and your students can go again—set this right, actually  get  that Certification.”

Calder slowly turned to his companion with a face that was haunted and defeated—a far cry from the self-assured, somewhat arrogant Dewott that his reputation suggested. “I can only speak for myself,” he said. “But Rubrum… I’m not in any hurry to go back to those lands.”

And thinking of what he’d seen, Rubrum could hardly blame him.