An Expected Victory

Invi moaned. His stroking quickened, his hips bucked, his balls contracted. “That’s it, kitty! I’m gonna cum!”

	He squealed. The Victini’s warm cum then erupted onto Maestro’s face, streaking his fur, dribbling along his chin, coating his green mask in milky white seed. Invi threw his head back, grinning smugly, stroking along his length, as the last of his cum dripped onto Maestro’s fur. For a moment, Invi’s psychic link waned. 

“A–ah, fuck. You did so good, kitty. You look so cute covered in my cum. Good boy–” 

Then, silence. Eerie silence. Like a blackout. Adrenaline mixed with dopamine mixed with blood. Maestro couldn’t quite remember what happened. But he did know this – in only a moment, the world was turned on its head. 

	Invi, of course, remembered that moment quite well. In a flash, Maestro had let out a furious shriek, lept forward like a cornered animal, claws outstretched. Bestial rage bubbled in his eyes, those frantic swipes just barely missing Invi’s face. Unbridled anger cried from Maestro’s lips – and futilely, sadly, down he fell. The last of Maestro’s strength fell away, and he collapsed onto the hard steel floor. 

	Invi dodged just in time to avoid the strike, stumbling backward against cold lab equipment. His shoulder knocked into an operating table, his feet clamored over stray cogs, as he clumsily reestablished a psychic link over the prone Meowscarada. 

	“Whew,” Invi exhaled, and flashed a nervous smile. “You almost got me there, kitty.” 

	The Victini then waited a moment, leaned against the steel, watching the faint rise and fall of Maestro’s chest. Maestro laid face-down against the ground, blood dripping from a faint gash on his mask. The boy had taken quite the fall. 

	Cautiously, slowly, Invi approached the Meowscarada. He then crouched down, laying his fingers upon Maestro’s neck, feeling for a faint pulse. 

	“Thank Arceus,” Invi said, and sighed in relief. “I was afraid I’d broken my toy already.” 

	Slowly, imperceptibly, consciousness stirred within Maestro’s addled brain. A groan escaped him as his vision stirred, a milieu of shadows dancing before his eyes. His aching fingers then clenched, his toes curled along the cold cot, until the world once again washed over him like an icy wave. 

	The feline begrudgingly smacked his dry lips, blinked, swiveling his aching head along the uncomfortable mat beneath. To his left, a blank wall. A toilet, a sink. And to his right, prison bars, beyond which hung a dim lamp. 

	Fuck.

	The sight of prison bars sparked panic within Maestro. He ignored the pounding of his head, the pain in his limbs, and hastily pressed his palms against the mat. His body felt leaden, his joints creaking like damp wood. 

	A shadowy figure sat outside of the cell, his nose buried in a book. Lanky, thin, wrapped in a thick scarf. Maestro stared as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He listened intently to the soft turning of a page, the buzz of the lamp, before mustering the courage to speak.

	“I know you,” Maestro croaked. “Aoi?”

	The figure’s ears perked, and his gaze turned to face Maestro. A smug grin, half-hidden by his elastic tongue, rose to the Greninja’s lips. 

	“Well, if it isn’t the prodigal child himself. I’m glad to see you again, Maestro,” Aoi said.

	The Meowscarada blinked in disbelief, swung his legs over the side of the cot. “You… no way,” he sputtered, and held his head. “Ah, damn… my head…”

Aoi sighed, put down his book. He said, “Don’t try and speak too much, kitty. You probably have a concussion – and trust me, you do not want to make that worse.” 

	Alas, Maestro ignored that advice. He rose on unsteady legs, meandered to his cell’s bars. They were cold against his paws, remaining solid against his quivering grip.

	“How are you… here?” Maestro asked. 

	The Greninja waved his webbed hand and replied, “Look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. You should really just lay back down.”

	“A big deal?” Maestro spat. “Aoi, where the fuck am I?”

“In prison,” Aoi answered, his brow raised. “Is that… not obvious?” 

Maestro scowled. Fury bubbled within his gaze. “I know I’m in prison,” he said. “Aoi, come on. You know me, so just… be honest.” 

Aoi sighed, massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Maestro…”

“Please,” Maestro pleaded. “At least tell me what’s going to happen to me. Are the others safe? Just… tell me.” 

The Greninja rolled his eyes. “The others are alive,” he said. “And so are you. Isn’t that enough?” He then crossed his legs, reopened his book. Its cover shone in the dim light – a faded treatise on Pokémon-human trade relations. 

“Now, could you be quiet? I’m trying to read.” 

	“No! No,” Maestro cried, resting his head against the bars. “I need to know. What’s going to happen to us?” 

	Aoi’s tone was matter-of-fact as he replied, “I really don’t know, Maestro. You’re toys now. Invi’s toys. So… whatever he decides.” 

	“Toys…?” 

	“He collects them,” Aoi replied. “It’s pretty perverted, in my opinion. Those hybridization experiments… I think they really fucked up his brain.” 

	“Experiments?” 

	Aoi continued, “Now, personally, I dislike the guy as much as you do – hell, probably more. But hey, yaknow. Nothing I can do about it. Coworkers are coworkers.” 

	Maestro grimaced, looked askance. He asked, “You’re not a student… are you?” 

	“No,” Aoi replied, and smiled. “But I made a damn good one, right?”

	“Fuck.” Maestro hung his head low. His voice was quiet, exasperated. “So what are you, then? A spy or something?” 

	Aoi nodded, satisfied with his work. “Bingo. It’s not a glamorous job, but… hey, it’s fun. It pays the bills. And I get to fuck on the job..” 

	“So having sex with me was just for information?” 

	“Well, yes,” Aoi replied, and smiled. “But to be honest, I didn’t get much information out of you. It was… mostly for fun. So don’t be too down on yourself. You were a good lay!” 

	Maestro scoffed. “So you used me.” 

	“We’re all using each other,” Aoi quipped. “I’m just honest about it. It’s the only way for us Dark types to get by, after all.” 

“That’s not true,” Maestro shot back. “I clawed my way up–” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Aoi snapped, and slammed his book on the ground. “I am sick of hearing about your little sob story.”

	“Aoi–”

	“–No. I don’t care.” Aoi then took a deep breath, gritted his teeth. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? You were admitted to the Academy while every other Dark type is still scraping around in the muck. So boo-hoo for you, and for your awards, and your research, and your little boyfriends. I feel really bad for you.” 

	Maestro was silent for a moment. Breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say. 

	“I never knew you,” he said. 

	Aoi replied, “You knew me as much as you could a one-night stand.” 

	Cruel silence then pervaded the cell block. Maestro could feel tears welling in his eyes as he meandered back toward his cot, lowering himself onto the thin fabric. 

	He asked, “Will I see my friends again?”

	“Don’t count on it,” Aoi said.

	Maestro sighed, wracking his brain for a scrap of hope. He then concentrated, attempting to snap his quivering fingers. Just as he expected, an Energy Ball failed to form between them, dying out as a soft whisp. He snapped again, again, but the energy failed to flow. 

	He said, “You took my powers away from me.” 

	Aoi scoffed. “Yeah.”

“How?” 

The Greninja shrugged. He asked, “Does it even matter?” 

	Maestro didn’t push the subject any further. He couldn’t. He was much, much too tired. A deep anxiety pervaded his chest, settled in his stomach, and anchored his feet to the ground. The feeling was enough to make him nauseated. And yet he simply sat on his cot, staring at the plain gray wall. 

	His thoughts raced. Silently, slowly, tears began to roll down Maestro’s mask. He thought about his friends, his studies, his accomplishments – squandered. Even if he somehow managed to escape, he could never return to Augusta. He couldn’t save his friends – no, his family. All because of his hubris, that baseless belief that he was special, that he couldn’t be caught. The weight of his assumptions crashed down around him. He never stood a chance.

Distantly, a metal door opened and closed. Chattering echoed down the prison hall – two voices, one high and one low. Maestro trembled.

“He’s good,” the low voice said. “I love it when they cry.”

A chuckle of approval arose from the high voice – Invi. His tiny footsteps grew louder. “Next time, I’ll have him wear mascara.”

“Oh yeah. I like mascara tears.”

“It would make a sexy picture.” 

The pair then came within view of Maestro’s cell. A huge Corviknight strutted at Invi’s side, matching his pace. The bird’s gaze remained obscured by his thick, dark helmet. 

Invi gave a quick wave to Aoi, motioned to the cell. 

He asked, “Did the boy just wake up?” 

“About ten minutes ago,” Aoi replied. He didn’t lift his gaze from the book. “You took your time in there.” 

Invi nodded. “Yeah. He’s a good catch – Liam wanted to savor it.” He then flitted his gaze toward Maestro, pointing his tiny finger at the feline. “But I guarantee you… this is the best catch of them all.” 

“What?” the Corviknight asked, and glanced at Maestro. “You serious? He looks a little pathetic.” 

Invi said, “He’s the one who put up a fight.” He then traced a small gash along his shoulder. “Gave me this little scar. Apparently he’s – he was – a star student up top.” 

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, one of the Board’s pets.” 

“Exactly,” Invi sneered, and reached for his keyring. “I always love to see the big ones fall.” 

Invi then slotted his key inside the door, turning it to the side and sliding the cell door open. He and the Corviknight stepped swiftly inside, closing the gate behind themselves. 

“You know… you’re welcome to join in, Aoi,” Invi chirped. “I always share my spoils.” 

Aoi shook his head, his lips pursed into a tight frown. He said, “Maybe later. I’m catching up on some reading.” 

Liam scoffed, gave Invi a nudge. “They’re never team players,” he muttered. 

Aoi’s posture visibly tensed in reaction to the comment; he struggled to resist snapping back at Liam. His grip tightened on his book, his spine straightened. And yet, he did nothing. 

Invi then flashed a predatory grin at Maestro, cracked his knuckles. He said, “Now… Maestro, why don’t you say hi to my friend and I? We’ve both been dying to play with you.” 

Maestro remained silent, unmoving. His breathing seemed to sputter, his paws shook. Once again, he attempted to form an Energy Ball in his palm; and once again, he failed. 

“Maestro…” Invi smacked his lips, tapped his foot. “C’mon Maestro. Don’t tell me that fall knocked the smarts out of you.” 

The feline gulped. He turned his gaze upward to meet Invi’s round, blue eyes. Something childish, almost innocent, danced behind them. Maestro had expected something distinctly evil, malicious, to reside there. Anger, resentment, or frustration. But he observed only indifference; a hedonistic, uncaring absence.

“Where did you just come from?” Maestro asked. 

Invi grinned. He said, “We were just visiting your friend, Fey. I think that’s his name, right? The dog.” 

“He’s a Sylveon,” Maestro corrected. His voice remained weak. 

Invi rolled his eyes, sighed. “Right, him. He’s not holding up well.” His eyes glowed, as if lost in a fantasy. “Some Pokémon just can’t withstand psychic manipulation for long. Their minds melt. It’s a shame, but… weak Pokémon aren’t meant to last.” 

Invi then marched to Maestro, held the feline’s chin gently in his paw. Maestro’s tear-laden eyes glistened as he felt them pierced by Invi’s uncaring gaze. 

“But you… you’re strong. You will last a long, long time,” Invi said, and smiled. “In time, I hope you and I can become friends. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

Alas, Maestro didn’t respond. His mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Fey; the boy was innocent, kind, trusting. And Maestro had dragged him along below the library. To his death. It was his fault.

Maestro’s lack of response displeased Invi. The Victini frowned, let go of the feline’s chin. “No matter,” he said, and stepped aside. “Liam… I’ll let you have the first go.”

The Corviknight chuckled. “How kind of you,” he joked. “I’ll savor the opportunity.” He then thought for a moment and added, “Will this one need to be mind controlled?” 

Invi shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think Maestro is smart enough to know it hurts more when he resists. Right, Maestro?” 

	The Meowscarada cringed. In truth, Invi was right. He didn’t need to be controlled anymore – he knew the cold sting of those psionic tentacles, their sticky embrace as they tore apart his neurons in search of vulnerabilities. He didn’t want to go through that again. Ever.

	And so, Maestro wordlessly sunk to his knees. He hovered below Liam’s abdomen, staring upward at the gargantuan Pokémon, as he awaited the avian’s cock. 

	“There,” Invi chirped. “Isn’t he cute down there?” 

	Liam nodded, rubbing his wings along his pelvis. “Very cute. Adorable, even.” 

	Maestro suddenly felt… numb. That despair which once caused him fear and sadness left him, replaced with nothingness. Indifference. Total, utter submission. It felt as if he were standing at the edge of a precipice, gazing into the darkness below. It seemed to swallow him up. 

	“Open up,” Liam squawked. “C’mon, now. I got other prisoners to get to.” 

	Some last vestige of resistance boiled within Maestro. He attempted to open his mouth, but it remained clamped shut. Desperately, he wanted a friend to jump from around the corner, to save him at the last minute. He yearned for an escape, to wake up and realize it was all a dream; but it wasn’t. This was real.

	Invi raised an eyebrow. He said, “C’mon now, Maestro. Don’t make me control you. It’s no fun if I just make you open your mouth.” 

	Sparse tears welled in Maestro’s eyes, rolled down his mask. Please, someone, anyone. Arceus. Just make it stop.

“One last chance,” Invi chirped. “Open now.” 

Maestro sniffled, enjoying one last untainted breath of air, before letting his jaw hang loose. His tongue hung back in disgust, his eyes glazed over. Even before the Corviknight’s flesh met his lips, he let his mind wander. Only his body remained – a vacant toy, ready for use. 

Invi smiled in satisfaction. “Good boy,” he said. “Go on, Liam. He’s good with his mouth.” 

Liam didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, allowing his corvid cock to throb for a moment before Maestro’s prone face, only to harshly shove himself onto the feline’s mask. The scent slammed into Maestro’s nostrils like a brick; Liam’s cock was unwashed, pungent, rich with the scent of damp earth, acrid sweat, and decayed detritus. 

The avian let out a satisfied huff. “Good boy. Go on. Tell daddy how much you love his cock.” 

Maestro gasped, clenching his hands on his thighs. He wanted to recoil, pull himself away from the avian’s groin; but somehow, Invi’s psychic tendrils disgusted him even more. He imagined those tentacles sneaking their way into his brain, exploring him, destroying him – leaving behind only a husk. Fey. 

Maestro closed his eyes, let out a sigh, and cleared his throat. Even though he spoke, the words weren’t his own. They were disembodied, coerced, a tool for survival; even if everything else was taken, he was alive. And he would remain alive. No matter what. 

“I love your cock, master,” Maestro breathed. and performed a massive huff. The scent made him gag. His breath quivered. “It smells a–amazing.”

“Oh? Does it?” Liam asked. “Then you wouldn’t mind sucking me off, hm? I could use a cleaning.” 

Maestro gulped, his saliva tinged with the scent of sweat. “Yes,” he said. “I’ll clean you. I’ll do it. Just… please, don’t enter my mind.” 

Invi laughed. “Sure,” he said. “But if you come up for air even once… well, expect some punishment.”

Liam nodded in agreement, then pulled back, plunging himself inside the feline’s mouth. Maestro was struck with the sour, salty taste of his dick, the surprising girth of its tapered length. His nose pressed deep into a nest of mussed feathers, the feline struggled to breathe. 

Thick, salty precum dribbled down the back of Maestro’s throat as Liam began to gyrate his hips. The avian flapped his wings, steadying himself, as a pleasured chirp sang from his lips. “Fuck, Invi. You were right. He’s tight.” 

Invi winked, gave Liam a nudge. “I know.” He then shot a condescending glance at Maestro and added, “Toys like him are all bark and no bite. All it takes is a firm hand and… well, even an ego like his is gone in a snap.” 

Liam’s cock twitched against the back of Maestro’s throat; the suggestion of Maestro’s malleability turned him on. “How long do you think it’ll take to make this one a cocksleeve?” Liam asked. 

“Isn’t he already?” Invi joked. 

Liam scoffed, plunged himself deeper inside the prone feline’s mouth, hugging the back of Maestro’s head, sliding it along his length. A disgusting groan fell from his beak as he added, “Naw, naw. I’m talking bona fide.” 

“Bona fide,” Invi echoed. “Mindbroken, you mean?” 

The Corviknight chuckled. “Sure,” he barked. “Whatever you Psychic types say. It all flies over my head.”

 	“Both your heads,” Invi quipped, and raised his paws to his head. “You want the boy broken? Fine. Consider it done.” 

Maestro sputtered at the comment – through his deoxygenated, hazy mind, he knew what would happen. His faint hope that somehow he would avoid torture by cooperating – well, he realized how naive it was. And in a flash, he felt those cold, psychic hands grip his brain. Delving deeply into his subconscious, pulling vulnerable memories from within him – while all the while, his maw remained full of Liam’s quivering girth.

The Corviknight smiled, harshly gripping Maestro’s mint-colored fur. “Mmm. Less squirming now,” he growled. “A much better fleshlight.” 

“Just be sure to give him some oxygen,” Invi said, his eyes still closed, lost in concentration. “Torture has no use unless the Pokémon is alive to suffer it.” 

Liam nodded. “Aye, aye,” he squawked, and savored the absent gaze on Maestro’s face. The feline’s jaw hung open fully now, his eyes rolled back, his posture awkwardly hunched over Liam’s groin. And yet, the boy’s throat remained tight, his tongue rhythmically massaging along the crow’s wet glans. Pleasure mounted between the corvid’s loins, his tongue lolling gleefully from his beak.

Invi’s psychic embrace began like an ice-cold kiss – gentle, freezing. That psychic force then probed further, further, into Maestro’s core memories. His childhood as a Sprigatito, his enrollment at the Academy, his memories of Rubrum. Inexplicably, in a panicked fugue, the boy could feel these memories slipping away, exiting him, as if excised by a scalpel. He attempted to scream, to thrash, to fight back… but his efforts were futile. “I’m dying,” he thought. It echoed in his skull, a delicious mixture of panic and fury. “I’m fading.” 

A soft groan escaped Maestro’s maw, the last of his oxygen drifting through his clogged trachea. But Liam didn’t stop; he was on the verge of orgasm, entranced by that near-dead gaze, the stunted breathing. The thought of ruining the once-proud scholar, the crown jewel of the Academy, was irresistible. 

“F–fuck! I’m gonna cum!” 

And forcefully, Liam thrust himself forward, as deeply as he could. His dick throbbed against the helpless boy’s insides, eliciting not so much as a whimper, pumping load after load down the boy’s throat. Maestro instinctively gulped down the crow’s acrid seed, sparing not even a single drop, holding back the instinct to sputter. His body had been reduced to a fucktoy, a mindless plaything. He experienced no pleasure; just loss. 

Invi’s eyes then shot open, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Ah!” he exclaimed. “I found something very interesting.” 

Liam huffed, his body still recovering from the rapture of his orgasm. He slowly slid Maestro off of himself, allowing the fucktoy to spill onto the floor, gasping desperately for breath. 

Liam asked, “And what’s that?” 

Invi chuckled and responded, “The memory of his first kiss. It was with his professor – Ruby – outside the lecture hall. After-hours.” 

The Corviknight scoffed. “Can’t believe the Council even allows that.” 

Invi gave a nonchalant nod. “Well, the Board has their reasons.” He then cleared his throat and asked, “How about we… take the memory for ourselves?” 

Liam narrowed his eyes. “How devilish of you,” he said. “Gradually stripping the boy of his memories… until there’s nothing left.” 

“Exactly,” Invi chirped, and focused once more. For just a moment, he was in Maestro’s shoes – under a cherry tree, outside the lecture hall. Rubrum’s breath smelled like spearmint. Starly chirped above, students bustled about – and in a moment, like ice melting, the details faded away. 

“No!” Maestro screamed, his hands cradling his head. The boy’s scrawny body squirmed against the cold ground, his eyes squeezed shut. “Please, no! No more! Please!” 

But Invi didn’t listen. Maestro gradually forgot the smell of the flowers, the hot sun, the warmth of Rubrum’s lips. He forgot about sitting under the cherry tree, grasping his lover’s paw for the first time, that adoring look in Rubrum’s eyes. As if it never happened, Maestro’s mind was wiped; and he was left with only absent sobs.

Invi smiled.

Professor Rubrum lost track of time after the first month of imprisonment. His cell contained no window, no mirror. Its bland beige walls bled into a bland steel door, upon which laid a simple slot for food. In the corner laid a covered vent, too small for even his arm to fit through. 

Rubrum sat idly on his cot, running his nail over the small lump on his leg. Soon after his capture, he’d noticed it – and spent days wondering what they’d done. Of course, it was obvious now. It was a chip, likely installed in order to deaden his powers. 

Predictably, he’d considered scratching it out. But he also knew that, even if he did, he was too weak to topple the prison guard. The guards fed him just enough to survive; no more, no less. Escape was a moot point. Rubrum didn’t even entertain the idea anymore.

Every day, a milieu of sexual torture awaited him. He remembered being stuck in a swimming pool, bred again and again by a Buizel and a Kingdra; the next day, he was dropped in a den of heat-ridden Pyroar. Rubrum still bore the scars from that encounter, laid plain on his back, the nape of his neck. The battered professor harbored only one hope: that he wouldn’t be dropped in a Staraptor nest again. Their beaks were sharp. 

The nearby jingle of keys then snapped Rubrum from his daydream, put him on-edge. His back instinctively braced against the wall, his fists clenched around the thin sheets. His steel door then slid open with a loud screech, revealing a sizable Pokémon in the doorway – a Dragonite. 

“Ruby,” the Dragonite said, almost savoring the Lucario’s name. “We have something special planned for you today.” 

Rubrum eyed the gigantic Pokémon, shooting a deep scowl in his direction. “Oh? Is the little tyrant horny again?” he spat. “Or has he decided to finally kill me?” 

The Dragonite’s face remained blank, unchanged. “Neither,” he replied. “Come with me.” 

The Lucario nodded, relenting to his fate. He then stood unsteadily and marched past the doorframe, emerging into the fluorescent-lit hallway. It smelled of disinfectant and dust; like always. The bulbs stung at his eyes. The glossy floor slid under his paws. 

And so the pair marched down the hall, silently, solemnly, until they reached a pair of double doors – the dungeon. Invi’s dungeon. Scalpels, chains, and leashes lined its walls. The occasional blood splatter littered its hard, thin carpets. Rubrum could already feel himself dissociating as the doors opened. 

But as Rubrum saw what laid within, his heart skipped a beat. Breath caught in his throat. There, sat in a neat row, were his students – Maestro, Asher, and Fey – each adorned with what could only be a shock collar. 

None of them flinched as their professor entered the room; their gazes instead remained fixed on the floor, their only acknowledgement being a quick flick of their eyes. No smiles, no laughter. In a way, Rubrum had hoped they’d died after all this time – it would’ve spared them their suffering.

The Dragonite prodded Rubrum’s back, spurring him forward. “Down,” he said. “Invi wants you all in a row.” 

Rubrum didn’t protest. He meandered to Fey’s side and fell to his knees, waiting patiently as the Dragonite fastened a collar around his neck. It was bulky, heavy – no doubt capable of delivering a lethal shock. At this point, it failed to surprise him; Invi had a knack for the dancing on a knife’s edge between life and death. 

For just a moment, Rubrum glanced at Fey. The once lively Sylveon was thinner, his white fur stained yellow from neglect. His body seemed unnaturally hunched, his breaths shallow, his tail deathly still. Even as the Dragonite clanked around behind the prisoners, arranging tools, stomping against the concrete, Fey remained unmoving. An empty, dissonant frown remained frozen on his maw.

“Fey?” Rubrum whispered amidst the din. “Fey?” 

Alas, Fey didn’t acknowledge Rubrum’s words. His only response was a slight shiver as a loud bang sounded behind them – as if the boy was reduced to nothing but a fear response. A tortured, panic-ridden nervous system remained behind Fey’s eyes. Nothing more.

Rubrum then craned his neck to glance at the others – first, Asher. The Cinderace’s face was covered in short scars, the fur around his neck worn away by continuous shocks from his collar. Fresh welts striated his arms and back; the boy had been recently beaten. His eyes were feral, paranoid, a wildfire burning amidst ashes. A low growl fell continually from his maw.

Beside him kneeled Maestro – maskless, slumped over, an eyepatch hugging one eye. The feline’s fur was pallid, his muscles reduced to string. On his back, there laid the distinctive bloody ravines of a cat-o’-nine-tails. Maestro’s remaining eye stared unblinkingly at the ground, despondent, broken. 

Rubrum yearned to reach out, to crawl to his side, to cup his beloved’s face; to sob, to embrace his broken body, to say “I see you. For this fleeting moment, I see you. I love you. Please don’t die. Please don’t leave me again. Promise me.” 

But he didn’t. And the thought faded.

The dungeon’s double doors then swung open, causing Rubrum’s gaze to snap upward. Invi’s little steps contrasted against the long, gallant strides of the Rapidash at his side; his smug grin was accompanied by the giddy wagging of the horse’s fiery tail, the sway of the horse’s already-erect equine cock. 

“Well, the gang’s back together!” Invi shouted, and clapped his paws. “I’m so excited! It is so good to see all my favorite toys in one room again.” He then motioned toward his subordinates and added, “These will be my assistants for the night – Ty the Rapidash and Rex the Dragonite. You’ll answer to them the same way you’d answer to me. Understood?” 

No one replied. Each prisoner remained still as Invi decided which Pokémon to torment first; and predictably, his eyes landed on Rubrum.

“Ruby!” Invi bellowed, and motioned for the Lucario to approach. “Come, come. I’d like to show you my work.” 

“Yes, your work,” Rubrum spat, and stood. “Your award-worthy work.” 

Invi shook his head. “You always misunderstand me, professor. I only punish evildoers – those who deserve it.” His eyes were wide, wondrous. “I have the best job in the world; and if you didn’t want to be here, you should’ve followed the law.” 

Rubrum gritted his teeth, refusing to engage further. He then watched as Invi pointed toward Fey and explained, “I’ve been meaning to tell you… your boy… Chewtoy, I call him. He’s been catatonic for a month now.” 

A pang of sadness rang throughout Rubrum’s heart. It took all his strength to remain quiet, to stifle the urge to cry.

	“But,” Invi continued, “it turns out catatonic Pokémon make amazing cocksleeves. So I’ve kept him around… even if he wishes he were dead.” A pause. “I don’t think he could even hope for that anymore, actually.”

	Invi then excitedly pointed at Asher and chirped, “Oh, but here’s my favorite. Your friend here – Fuckbunny. He just won’t break! Which is an appeal of its own, yaknow. It’s exciting.”

Rubrum simply nodded, his jaws clamped shut. Invi stared at him for a moment, savoring the disgust on his face.

Invi continued, “Granted, Fuckbunny would probably be happier if he just gave up. Let it all go.” He then laughed and added, “Hey, did you know how tight he is, Ruby? He was a top before I tamed him; but now he’s more of a… breeding sow. Ty’s favorite, actually.” 

	The Rapidash huffed, hovering behind Asher’s twitching body. “Yep,” he said. “He’s tight – the tightest.” 

	And finally, Invi waved his paw toward Maestro. He announced, “And then there’s Pussycat. I don’t think there’s much to say, honestly.” 

	Rubrum took the bait. “What?” he muttered. 

	“Oh, I shouldn’t say.” 

	Rubrum clenched his paws and growled, “What did you do?” 

	“Go and see for yourself if you’d like,” Invi ordered. His stance was flippant, cocky. “Go on. I give you permission. Speak to him.” 

	Begrudgingly, hopefully, Rubrum obeyed and approached the despondent feline. He then knelt on one knee before Maestro’s hunched body, held his lover’s paws gently in his. Tears poured uncontrollably down his cheeks. 

	“Maestro,” Rubrum whimpered. “I–I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” 

	But alas, Maestro seemed to recoil from Rubrum’s touch. A shiver then traveled through him as he met Rubrum’s desperate gaze. The feline’s maw shuddered, his fists clenched. 

“Don’t touch me,” Maestro muttered, and attempted to pull his paw away.

	But Rubrum didn’t relent. He gushed, “Maestro, please. I’m sorry for bringing you here, all of you. I’m so sorry. I… I love you.” A deep breath, a faint smile, and then: “I’ve thought of you every day. Every minute, I think about you. You’re the only thing keeping me sane. I… I need you.” 

	Maestro simply stared in response. He carefully considered his words, clearing his throat, tilting his head. The deafening silence put Rubrum on-edge.

	“Please,” Rubrum begged. “Please, say something. Anything.”

	Maestro breathed in, out. And like a dream, he said,

“I don’t know you.” 

The world seemed to freeze around Rubrum. Those words rang through him, adrenaline wracking his malnourished body. A deep pang of sadness then filled him up, eviscerating his last bit of hope, as his breathing stilled. 

“No,” Rubrum echoed, as if warding off reality. “Maestro, come on.” 

The feline weakly pushed Rubrum’s paws away, retracted from his embrace. “Stop,” Maestro muttered, as if to himself. 

Rubrum’s lips quivered, his paws shook. “No, Maestro. Look at me. Look at me, you know me.”

Maestro snapped his head at Rubrum, an ugly scowl stretched across his maw. “No! I don’t know you. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

	“Then kill me,” Maestro barked. “Or just leave me alone.”

Rubrum recoiled, let his arms fall limply to his sides. He didn’t know what to say.

“What did they do to you?” he asked.

Maestro didn’t respond. He simply let his gaze fall to the floor. The once-proud feline no longer stood tall; the cocky edge in his voice was replaced by a depressive lull. His scarred, boney face laid exposed, his mask long destroyed.

Rubrum sniffled and asked, “Do you remember your name?” 

Invi’s voice rang out in response. “Ruby… that’s a silly question,” the little tyrant cooed, and approached the Lucario from behind. His little fingers combed softly through Rubrum’s hair. “The boy’s name is right there on his collar. See?” 

And indeed it was. A heart-shaped tag hung from Maestro’s collar – the same shape and size as Rubrum’s own. ‘PUSSYCAT’ laid engraved on its surface, criss-crossed with scratches. 

Rubrum could hardly believe his eyes, his ears. His stomach sank, the urge to vomit bubbled within him, the world blurred. The words “You killed him” spilled from Rubrum’s lips as he then attempted to stand – and failed. The long-held fractures which spiderwebbed across Rubrum’s mind collapsed. Stray sobs fell from his lips; and he then careened toward the floor, collapsing in a pitiful, sobbing heap.

Invi clapped and whooped at the sight, letting out a hearty guffaw. “Oh Arceus, what a pitiful display. This is exactly what I needed today. Whew!” 

	Ty and Rex greeted Rubrum’s destruction with similar glee. They shot knowing glances at one another, each visually aroused by Rubrum’s suffering. The Rapidash rubbed his erect equine cock on the bunny’s plump ass, savoring the furious twitches of Asher’s body. 

	“Are we all done with the teasing now?” the Rapidash called out. “I’ve been aching to get started on these animals.” 

	Invi shook his head, throwing his paws playfully in the air. “Aw, c’mon! Are you trying to ruin my fun, Ty? You know the torture is my favorite part.” 

	Ty shot a shy glance at the little Pokémon, his fiery tail swishing. If it weren’t for the context, his behavior would’ve come off as innocent. He then said, “Well, you know how pent-up us Rapidash get. Come on, Invi. Let us have our fun.” 

And thus, the Victini relented. “Fine,” he said. “But first…” 

	Invi then approached Asher, held the bound Cinderace’s face in his paw. The two stared at one another – one smoldering, the other smug. Invi never stopped smiling. 

“Owning you is a gift, Fuckbunny,” Invi cooed, his voice tender. “I love it when my toys don’t give up. And you… well, you’ve given me the pleasure of breaking you down again and again.” He then paused, gazed adoringly at Asher. 

“To be honest, my feelings for you may be the closest I’ve ever come to love. Isn’t that magical?” Invi asked.

The words seemed to ignite Asher’s fury. His arms and legs shook with pure, unbridled rage. His teeth clenched, his fur stood on-end, as he stopped himself from lunging at Invi. Asher was continually reminded of his collar’s shock, the involuntary contraction of his muscles, the nerve damage. These collars weren’t meant to deter; they were meant to maim. With every shock, Asher felt himself closer and closer to death… and all it took for Invi to activate the collar was a thought.

	Ty’s cock flared against Asher’s backside, its shaft hungrily sliding between the boy’s asscheeks. Asher’s pink asshole shone white under the harsh fluorescents, his paws grinding on the rough rug with every thrust of Ty’s hips. 

Embarrassment then reddened Invi’s face. He almost seemed to choke on his words as he asked, “Fuckbunny, do you… love me?” He then shuffled his feet, looked askance. “Because I love you, Fuckbunny. A lot. I… would like it if you returned my feelings.”

	The Victini’s words seemed to freeze Asher for a moment. The rabbit’s mouth then contorted once more in disgust and anger, his arms shaking with rage.

	“You’re a fucking monster,” Asher spat. A choked, furious sob, then: “You’ve taken everything from me, and I will never love you. I–I hate you.” 

	Genuine pain flashed on Invi’s face. He stepped back, his mouth agape, and shook his head. 

	“If you do not accept my love now… you will eventually. I know it. We… we’re meant for each other.” 

	Then, a piercing scream as Asher’s shock collar activated. Rubrum watched in horror as his student writhed on the floor, seizing, choking on his own spittle, his arms shooting erratically through the air, as if reaching for Invi’s neck. 

	“This hurts me more than it does you,” Invi said. “You’re my favorite. It hurts my feelings when you’re mean to me.” 

	Asher’s only response was the gurgle of saliva in his lungs, a cry of utter pain, before he slowed to an exhausted stop. Anger fled him, replaced with fear, exhaustion. His eyes struggled to focus, his breaths were shallow. 

	“Back on your feet,” Invi ordered. “Now. I’d rather not have to shock you again.” 

	Asher flailed, desperately attempting to raise himself upright. His arms wouldn’t bend right, his legs felt weak. And yet, he still managed to flop onto his stomach, pathetically attempting to raise himself to his hands and knees. Rubrum felt the urge to vomit; his gaze flicked from Fey, to Maestro, to Asher. His students had died months ago. In front of him were only husks. 

	“Get up,” Invi whispered, his voice slowly raising. “Get. Up. Get up!” 

	Asher winced, cried out in pain. Somehow, his cramp-ridden limbs managed to raise themselves upward, quivering under the weight of his body. His once fiery gaze was pained, desperate for reprieve. And then, as if nothing happened, Ty began grinding himself on Asher’s backside, aroused by the rabbit’s weakness. 

	“There we go,” Invi cooed, stroking Asher’s head. “That wasn’t hard, was it?” 

	“N–no,” Asher whimpered. 

	“Good boy,” Invi cooed. “Now… you’re gonna take my friend now, aren’t you? Be a good little Fuckbunny?” 

	“Y–yes,” Asher replied. “Yes, master.” 

	“Good boy. My good boy,” Invi whispered, and separated himself from the Cinderace. He then glanced at Rubrum, his giddy gaze shooting daggers at the professor. 

	He said, “Ruby… do you like what I’ve done with your students?”

	Rubrum swallowed vomit, stared at the ground. He didn’t know what to say. Profound disgust, fear, despair, all curdled in his stomach as his world collapsed before his eyes.
	
“Answer me,” Invi barked. “Tell me, Ruby. Tell me you like it.” 

And, as if in a trance, words choked from Rubrum’s mouth. “I like it,” he said. The world spun, his heart raced, and he spoke anyway. “I like it, master. I love it. I love it so much.” 

Invi smiled. He cooed, “Good boy, Ruby! You’re learning so quickly!” 

“I’m sorry, master. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Rubrum couldn’t control himself anymore. He felt himself retreating inward, sinking deep inside his skull, dissociating from his body. “I love you.” 
	
“You love me?” Invi echoed, and stepped closer. “If you love me, Ruby… then will you do me a favor?” 

“Yes,” Ruby said.

Invi giggled. “Then I want you to watch as Fuckbunny gets railed. It’ll be a… bonding activity for us.” 

Ruby replied, “Okay.” He coughed, hunched on his hands and knees. “Okay. I’ll do it.” 

“Good boy!” Invi chirped, and winked at Ty – showtime. 

On cue, Ty pressed the tip of his horse cock against Asher’s soft, pink asshole, glazing the bunny’s rim with his precum. A satisfied neigh then fell from Ty’s mouth as his thrusts rocked the delicate Cinderace back and forth. Asher’s arms still twitched from the residual electric shock. 

“Beg for his cock, Fuckbunny,” Invi called. “C’mon, now. Don’t make Ty feel unwanted.” 

Asher winced, relaxed his abdomen the best he could. “I want your cock,” he begged. “Please, Ty. Put it in me. I need your foals. Make me your cocksleeve.” 

And so the Rapidash bucked harder, bracing Asher’s sides between his muscular legs. His equine glans visibly flared with every attempt at insertion, spreading Asher’s ass wide open. The bunny gasped in pain at every thrust, his cock growing involuntarily hard beneath him, slapping against his stomach. 

“Look how his little cock bounces,” Invi teased. “Isn’t it cute, Ruby?” 

“Y–yes,” Ruby echoed. “Yes, very cute.”

Ty moaned, his hips suddenly bucking forward, his cock stiffening, his balls churning. “F–fuck, I’m inside,” he groaned, and his flaming mane blazed with fervor. “Arceus, he’s so warm. I love it.” 

Asher groaned at the sudden intrusion. It hurt so good, pushing up against his prostate, milking him into the cold floor. He pushed backward against the Rapidash’s pelvis, savoring each quiver of the horse’s breeding rod, the growing warmth of Ty’s flames. Asher’s puffy tail wagged excitedly below the horse’s muscular body as his mind fled, replaced by utter resignation, unquestioning obedience. 

“That’s it,” Invi said. “You look so cute all filled up like that, love.” He then turned to Rubrum, gave the Lucario a nudge. He asked, “Why don’t you go and give Fuckbunny a kiss? I’m sure he’d love it.”

“Y–yes, master,” Ruby replied, and crawled before the rabid Cinderace. Asher’s head bobbed under the weight of Ty’s body, his eyes feral, burning with a mix of pleasure, hatred, and obsessive submission. For just a moment, Rubrum and Asher stared at each other – an inch apart, yet both unrecognizable from their previous selves. They were no longer teacher and student; only toys. 

And so, without hesitation, Ruby leaned forward and met Asher’s lips. No dignity remained between them; no chaste kisses, no lead-in. Ruby slipped himself harshly into Asher’s maw, grazing the bunny’s soft palate, his fangs. The pair’s tongues brushed against each other again, again, relishing each other’s embrace. 

Asher could only groan into Ruby’s mouth, lost in indistinguishable passion, thoroughly violated from both sides. The pain of Ty’s cock reached deeper, deeper inside of him. It radiated through his spine, his stomach, as a bulge formed on his stomach. He didn’t know it, but he’d taken the horse up to the hilt. 

Ty moaned uncontrollably, his sensitive cock flaring against Asher’s insides. He couldn’t speak; he was lost in bestial desire, that fundamental need to breed. His package churned with excitement as Asher’s tight, wet ass massaged his flesh. Ty could feel his pleasure mounting, threatening to explode. His mane burned like an inferno, his eyes squeezed shut, as he then hugged his white tummy against Asher’s back; and in one swift motion, he plunged himself fully inside the scrawny Cinderace, a feral moan singing from his lips, as waves of hot, virile cum erupted inside Asher’s asshole. Tendrils of his equine cum spilled onto the floor, filled up Asher’s stomach. And still, Asher didn’t remove himself from Ruby’s mouth. 

Invi clapped with excitement, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Good job! Oh, Arceus, how wonderful to see my toys getting along. So obedient. Say, ‘Thank you, master!’” 

Ruby pulled his tongue from Asher’s mouth, turned around. Both Asher and him remained breathless, exhausted. With a hefty sigh, Ty pulled himself from Asher’s backside, spilling liters of his seed from the rabbit’s puckered ass. Asher promptly collapsed onto the ground. 

“Thank you, master,” Ruby said. “Thank you so much.” 

Invi scoffed. He said, “Actually, now that I think about it… perhaps you shouldn’t thank me yet. We’re not done, after all.” He then motioned to Rex. “It’s your turn, silly dragon. Take your pick.” 

The pent-up Dragonite stepped from the side, making a beeline for Fey. “Chewtoy,” Rex bellowed. “He makes the best cocksleeve, hands-down.” 

Invi nodded. “Just as I thought,” he said, and then meandered to Maestro’s side. “In that case, I’ll take Pussycat.” He then winked at Rubrum. “Make sure to keep an eye on me, Ruby. I want you to watch… and that’s an order.” 

The Victini then began stroking his tiny prick, spreading a thin layer of precum over his length, before opening Maestro’s wet mouth. The feline obeyed without question, like a marionette with no will of its own. And in only a moment, Invi had entered him, biting his lip in pleasure. 

“Oh, he feels good,” Invi said, grabbing Maestro’s fluffy ears. “I never expected Pussycat to be so good at this, but damn… he’s amazing. His throat is the perfect size for me.” 

“Yes,” Ruby echoed blankly. “Yes, Pussycat is amazing.” 

Rubrum crawled closer on all-fours, like an animal. His usual internal monologue quieted as he watched Invi’s pelvis thrust again, again, again, against his lover’s mouth – no, against Pussycat’s mouth. And all the while, the Meowscarada did not so much as moan. No sound came from him, no expression adorned his face. Emptiness. 

“Do you like what you see?” Invi asked, his breaths heavy, his little dick twitching against Maestro’s spiked tongue. “Do you like it when I fuck him in front of you, Ruby?” 

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

“Do you want me to cum inside, Ruby? Do you?” 

“Yes, master. Please cum inside him in front of me. I need it. I need you. I need you.”

	“More.” 

	Rubrum could feel his mind unraveling. His vision blurred, sounds melted together. His consciousness seemed to retreat further and further inside his skull, leaving his body behind. His mouth, his arms, his eyes – they weren’t his to control. He relinquished them to Invi. Everything was Invi’s. He might as well not exist.

	“More.”

	Every breath Ruby drew was for Invi’s pleasure. Every sultry stare, wink, wiggle of his hips. He ate, drank, and breathed for his master. For Invi. Always for Invi. He couldn’t believe that he ever lived for anything else.

	“More.” 
	
	Ruby turned to Fey, met the boy’s absent gaze. Small, pained grunts emitted from Fey’s – no, Chewtoy’s – lips as he was dominated by the gargantuan dragon. Rex’s spiked, thick cock nearly tore the boy open, stretching the canine’s ass as wide as he could.  Stray embers flitted from the Dragonite’s open maw, his huge, flat tongue lolling from its side. Rex’s orange tail swatted clumsily at the ground, forming small indents in the concrete.

	“More.” 

	Chewtoy’s canine cock throbbed under the dragon’s weight, his prostate demolished with every hump of Rex’s hips. And yet, Chewtoy didn’t yell, or cry out; he only let out pathetic, absent yelps  He was used to this, even if he couldn’t consciously recognize it – the heat of Rex’s breath, the wind of his excited, fluttering wings, the slap of Rex’s thick thighs against his hindlegs. And finally, that one last, harsh thrust inside him, filling him up; the feeling of those draconic spikes flaring, digging against his insides. The familiar warmth of Rex’s orgasm, his wet cum dripping down Chewtoy’s legs, pooling under his tummy. 
 
“More. Watch me, Ruby. Watch me.”
	
	The smell of cherry blossoms tinged Rubrum’s nostrils. His mind drifted away, away, to a better time. Rubrum’s back rested against a tree’s knotted bark, his paws fiddled with Maestro’s soft fur. He remembered Maestro saying, “It’s gonna be weird explaining this to the Board.” 

	Rubrum replied, “Then… we won’t,” and he pulled the silly feline in for a kiss. “It’ll be our little secret. Just don’t go begging for me to change your grades, and we’ll be fine.” 

	“Deal.” 

“More.”

Invi groaned, dragging the prone Meowscarada’s head along his cock. Again, again, again. His little dick quivered against Maestro’s palate as his mind encroached on Maestro’s barren psyche. Once-bound neurons lay disconnected, discarded, fragments of fragments of memories. The sight made Invi’s heart swell. Maestro was gone now. And what remained belonged to Invi. Only Invi.

Invi moaned; he held the feline flush against his musky pubic fur, and spurts of his salty, viscous seed emptied into Pussycat’s warm throat. A squeal escaped Invi’s tiny chest, his balls visibly churning, as he emptied the last of his cum inside his toy. 

Rubrum couldn’t tear his eyes away. He watched as cum dripped from his once-beloved’s mouth, trailed down the feline’s chin. Invi flashed a smug grin, and words poured from his mouth; but Rubrum didn’t hear them. 

The Lucario fell. The darkness consumed him, like a rabid animal. Deeper, deeper inside his memories – his last remaining sanctuary. He took solace in the memory of Maestro’s smile, the texture of his fur, his scent. He could smell it, feel it. 

Miles away, Invi said something more. Rubrum didn’t hear it, but he nodded anyway. His mouth moved, and he didn’t know what he said. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. That body was Ruby, not him.

Under the midday sun, among the fragrant grasses, Maestro smiled. Students bustled inside of the lecture hall, chattering about their next assignments. Somewhere in the distance, Ninjask buzzed. Maestro squeezed Rubrum’s hand.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Maestro said. “Now and forever.” 

	Rubrum tilted his head. Butterfree fluttered in his chest. “You promise?” 

	“I promise,” Maestro said, and pulled Rubrum into his embrace. “I love you. And that will never change.” 

	Ruby smiled.