In a way, the manner in which they had grown up together reminded Conway of an experiment he had conducted when he still lived at home and attended trainer's school. The differences between the two of them, the radiant Dawn and himself, were like the differences between the plant he had placed in the sunlight and the plant he had left in a closet. The outside plant flourished and blossomed, growing steadily into the sunlight and attracting lazy, fat insects to its lushness. The indoor plant, raised in the shadows, never blossomed but grew larger each day, stems continuing to expand yet remaining weak. He had made careful notes of their growth for weeks, filling his records far past the minimum requirements of his teacher (but of course, when didn't he do more than was required?). At the end of the experiment, he was left wondering what to do. Throw the plants away? Take the plant in the closet outside? Switch the two and continue observing? In a way, all of the options sounded cruel. But then, science, as a study of life, was frequently cruel. He took the plant that had grown up in shadows and placed it in the light beside its fellow. And it died.
Like the more fortunate plant, Dawn had grown up in the spotlight, finding a natural gift for contests that was only strengthened by her hard work. And she had worked hard; over the many years that he had observed her since their first meeting at the tag battle tournament, when random chance had selected them to be partners, he continued to be impressed by just how hard she pushed herself. Whenever she would lose (though over time her number of losses steadily declined) she would cry, alone, in her dressing room or hotel room or in some convenient, secluded place, and it was at those moments that he felt that there was something that joined the two of them. He knew her, had spent so very many hours observing her when she had no possible way of knowing it, that he knew she was lonely; lonely like him.
For he was the plant that had grown in darkness. Though a relative sort of darkness it was; he too had found success in battling, eventually managing first place in the Johto League. It was a moment that stood out to him like the flash of artificial light that came when the door was opened might have stood out to the plant. The applause of the crowd was deafening, and delicious, and for once he felt like a hero, like he belonged there, out in the light with all of these people who seemed to adore him. The brief celebrity he enjoyed in the region was pleasant, but inside his heart belonged in the shadows, from which he could remain hidden as he continued his research. At any rate, the sweetest part of his victory was not the approval of the public. It was a brief message that had flashed onto his laptop a day or so afterwards, sent by someone with the username of xElegantxIcex.
"Hey Conway…congrats on the win ^_^! I didn't know you were in this region too…saw you on the tv in the pokemon center. See you around, maybe?"
He didn't respond at first, but soon they had struck up a somewhat regular correspondence, though he was careful to keep his comments guarded and light. Conway tried to keep the subject on her, rather than on himself. Her light, purer than that dispersed by the glow of public adoration, was almost blinding. Though she had never sent him a picture, and her user picture was just a group photo of her pokemon with a badly-done sparkle effect added, he could see her in his mind's eye as if she were standing in front of him and smiling up at him, with those beautiful, glistening eyes that she had turned on him during the tag battle tournament, bringing a blush to his face. That was the first time a woman had ever touched him; like that, at least. As if she was truly interested in him.
And so he continued to follow her; at a safe enough distance that her light wouldn't harm him (and that she wouldn't discover him) but close enough that he could keep tabs on her, make sure she was safe. There were people she didn't know about, obsessed contest fans, or perverts, that had tried to sneak up on her in her sleep. It happened every now and then, perhaps once a month or so. None of them ever got close enough to do whatever it was they had come to do, however; each time, he chased them away. No one would harm his beautiful Dawn on his watch; she was too pure to be sullied by that sort of thing, too precious to him by far.
She seemed to grow lovelier over the years, gaining the elegant figure of a young woman who exercised gently but frequently. To him, his little Dawn almost resembled a ballerina; her slender legs and tiny waist, the length and shape of her neck. A ballerina, or perhaps even a swan. She grew a little taller, but he remained far above her, height-wise. His limbs seemed to continue growing, like those of the plant in the closet, yet unlike the plant, he gained muscle as well. The occasionally harsh physical demands of pokemon training and travel through the diverse continents of their land were enough to keep anyone in shape, even someone with more of an educational bent, like himself. There were times, at night, when he would examine his body in the darkness, measure the firmness of his arms and shoulders, bemoan his glasses, and wonder if he would be enough for someone like Dawn. No, the answer always came; she deserved more.
One late evening, during a session of intense training with his Slowking against a pack of wild Kabutops they had encountered in a cave, he was forced to do something he'd told himself he wouldn't. He had become overconfident in his favorite pokemon's strength, and as a result Slowking was badly injured and he was forced to flee to the Pokemon Center, where Dawn was spending the night. Leaving his pokemon with the gentle-looking Nurse Joy at the counter, he made his way to the room he had been persuaded to take for the night. On his way down the hall, he stopped briefly at a room whose door had been left slightly open. The interior was dark, but the backpack slung on the bed, and the pile of clothes on the floor, were unmistakably Dawn's. Though his mind was pleading with him to keep walking, and to go to his own room and avoid the girl as he'd been doing for years, he found himself carefully entering her room and pulling the door back to where it was when he'd found it.
As his eyes quickly adjusted, he scanned the room further, looking for some clue as to where Dawn might be. She wasn't traveling with anyone, so she would have had no reason to leave a note or anything. Eventually, the pile of clothes led him to the conclusion that she must be in the Center's showers, washing the grime of travel out of her skin and hair. That made him chuckle; she was always deeply concerned about her appearance above all else. But then, he supposed you had to be, to make it as a top coordinator. Without quite knowing why, he sifted gingerly through the shed garments, finding and retrieving the young woman's panties from where they had been left crumpled up under her skirt. He lifted the tiny pink article of clothing to his face, rubbing it against his nose and cheeks as if he were a police Growlithe searching a suspect for drugs. Oh Arceus, oh Arceus, it smelled like her; he let out a sound that could be either pain or jubilation.
The sound of someone at the door made him jump and then draw back into the deeper shadows in the corner, where he would be less likely to be spotted. He could see no obvious point of escape in the room other than the door through which he had entered; if he wanted to get out, he would have to wait until Dawn was either asleep or perhaps deeply distracted by her laptop or cellphone. She did always seem to have someone to talk to; old friends from her hometown, or any of the coordinators she met at contests. He felt a soft jab of envy at the idea of someone just talking to his Dawn, as if she were no one special. Just a friend. He found that nothing would make him happier, not even a huge scientific discovery, than if he could be her friend and talk to her about stupid things, about his feelings, about whatever came to mind. She was the closest thing to a friend he'd ever had.
She came inside dressed in a towel marked with the Pokemon Center's emblem and matching slippers, which she removed at the entrance. He was stunned as always by her beauty, and by something he'd never realized before; in the darkness, she still shone, healthy skin and deep blue hair glistening as if they gave off their own light. Conway watched almost breathless as she crossed the floor to her bed, almost tripping over one of the boots she had discarded and giggling softly at her own clumsiness. The sound sent darts of painful desire into his heart; he hadn't been this close to her, or heard her laugh, in a while.
He was expecting her to go for her bag, and retrieve one of the sets of pajamas he knew she carried with her. What she did instead shocked him utterly. Throwing off the towel unceremoniously, she climbed up on her bed, reclining softly on her back with her head and shoulders propped up slightly by her pillows, legs gently spread. He could have sobbed from the pain of the lust it elicited in him; he'd never seen her nude, not like this, not in a way that was so obviously private. Conway felt as if he'd intruded upon a virgin goddess deep in some primitive forest straight out of some mythology, and soon he would receive divine punishment for seeing what no mortal had the right to see. One of her slender, pale hands cupped her breast, softly rubbing the delicate skin under her fingers. Her half-open eyes glittered in the darkness like dark, rich jewels, her body enjoying her own gentle touch. He ached to go to her, pull her slim form against him, tell her in one big rush of words that he was enchanted by her light, by her beauty, like a Venomoth to a flame, that he would never hurt her, that she was perfect and otherworldly and all the things he didn't deserve.
Her other hand went to the soft patch of dark-colored hair at the juncture of her thighs, fingers sliding through the soft curls and into her most sacred spot, stroking herself with an impossibly light touch. His mouth went dry. Beautiful Dawn, his Dawn, was masturbating. He couldn't believe it; he'd thought she was the purest thing on earth, an unspoiled angel. He realized she still was; her attentions to herself were so innocent. She wasn't debauched, she was purity itself. Her face shone with serene loveliness, even faintly scrunched up in pleasure as it was. The hand that had been massaging her breast was now pinching her pale pink nipple between thumb and forefinger, twisting it slightly, and as she did she bit her tongue and made a soft noise of enjoyment. His hands went to the top of his jeans, undoing the garment as quietly as he could so that he could pleasure himself in the darkness while watching the young coordinator do the same to herself. It made Conway feel strangely connected to her, though he was praying she wouldn't hear anything and discover him in her room.
Pausing briefly, she opened up the side table drawer next to her bed and fished around, eventually pulling out a small, pink metallic vibrator. She seemed to be full of surprises; he had no idea she knew what a vibrator was, much less owned one. Switching it to a low setting, she rubbed it against her clitoris, seemingly enjoying the stimulation it provided. Conway wished that he could have the privilege of holding it for her and helping her with it, bringing her to the orgasms she needed. He stroked himself faster now, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his long, dark green hair stick to his face.
She switched between settings in a seemingly random manner, having fun with her body and the pleasure it could bring her. Even in the dark, he could see her growing wetter and wetter from her efforts, the moisture trickling down onto her bedding and forming a small damp patch underneath her. Eventually, finding a setting she liked, Dawn began to ease the vibrator inside her, the hand that had been attending to her breasts moving to continue to stimulate her clit. Her hips rocked gently onto the hand holding the small vibrator inside of her; she seemed to be enjoying moving on it, rather than thrusting it into herself. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen, though admittedly he hadn't seen many very sexy things. His breathing grew heavier, and he leaned back against the wall, loving the show he was receiving from his precious Dawn.
Immediately she stopped, looking straight at him. Fuck, he thought, she heard me. His suspicions were correct. Removing the vibrator and switching it off, she placed it on the bed, climbing off and crossing over to where he stood frozen. His options were either make a run for it or stay there and hope for mercy, and Conway was pinning his hopes on the latter leading to an outcome that wasn't him going to prison. "I thought it was you, Conway." She said, gently but casually, as if she had simply run into him at the Pokemart in the middle of the healing item aisle.
"I know you've been following me. You have ever since we were kids, haven't you?" Dawn asked, holding his chin and making him look her in the eyes. He felt a surge of guilt and panic. She knew? How? He was always so careful, always stayed a good distance away, always covered his tracks. "My pokemon communicated to me that, on our travels, they continuously smelled the scent of the same, familiar person. It took me a while to understand what they were trying to tell me, but when I did, I knew it was you." She had the benevolently solemn expression of an angel correcting a spoiled child. He wanted to fall on her and cry and try to explain. As if sensing his thoughts, she placed a finger to his lips, then pulled him with her towards the bed.
"What you did was wrong. Invading my space without my permission…watching me secretly…you could go to prison for that. I doubt Officer Jenny would mind taking another pervert to jail, not after what's been going on with panty snatchers in this town. However…you're my friend, Conway. We've known each other for quite a while now. I don't want to send you off to jail, you don't deserve that." He sighed with relief. His angel would be merciful after all. Seeing his response, Dawn smiled softly, almost wickedly. "But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be punished."
With that, she pushed on his upper body, bending him over the bedside table. He grasped the sides, uncomprehending. What was Dawn planning for him? The coordinator picked her light red scarf off the ground, using it to tie his hands together behind his back at the wrists. It was somewhat thin fabric, but she tied it tightly, and he knew it would at least take a while to rip free of it. Noticing his undone trousers, she yanked them down even further, eventually leaving them around his ankles. "The Officer Jenny of Twinleaf Town used to do this to me whenever she caught me shoplifting with Kenny and Leona. I think it'll be good for teaching you a lesson." She commented conversationally, grabbing his bare ass and rubbing it. The touch was a shock; nobody had ever touched him in such an intimate manner before. She began smacking him, not very forcefully but firmly, and it began to sting his flesh. Conway had never received a spanking; his family mostly left him alone, and his professors were too impressed with him to ever punish him for anything. The stinging grew worse as she continued, and tears began to well in his eyes, fogging his glasses and making him feel like a wimp. It wasn't that bad of a punishment; Dawn could have done far worse to him, including turning him over to the authorities. And in a way that he couldn't quite explain, the burning in his skin from her sharp touch felt good; he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted her to stop.
Though stop she did, after a while. Caressing his reddened flesh, she asked, "Did that hurt, Conway? Being spanked by your idol?" Choking back further tears, he nodded. Her hands continued to stroke and soothe his irritated skin. "You took it very well. I'm proud of you. You took the first part of your punishment like I'd hoped you would." His eyes looked up at her in shock. "Hm? Oh, yes, my little peeper, there's more. You see, you were enjoying watching me use this little vibrator here so much, I figure it's only fair that I should get the same." Giving him one last sharp smack on the ass, she picked the toy up off the bed and began rubbing it around his anus.
"That doesn't feel too bad at all, does it? It's still a little wet from having been inside of me…do you feel it?" Dawn asked, giggling at her own naughtiness. He shivered; this was different than any other behavior he had observed in her. He had no idea she was this kinky; hopefully, there weren't any worse surprises in store for him. Taking out a bottle of lube, she poured a few thick drops onto his hole and the vibrator, using it to spread the liquid around the skin and into the opening. Conway had to admit that it felt good; he was sensitive there, and the whole situation was just so bizarre that it was arousing. He couldn't believe Dawn was doing this; it just seemed so out of character. Gradually, she began working the toy into his ass, stretching him out as his hands desperately clutched at the table. It hurt a little, but the sensation was overall strange, not unpleasant. The vibrator wasn't that big, but it felt like it was pulling him apart, stretching him open wide. She switched on the vibration and he jumped, startled at the newness of the feeling, then blushed with humiliation, met with Dawn's soft laughter.
"I can tell that you enjoy it as much as I do, Conway…I always thought you were a pervert. I'll bet that as long as you've known me, you've dreamed of being treated like this by me, haven't you?" she teased, working the buzzing device in and out of him slowly. He realized that it was starting to move more easily, partially because she continued to add lubricant now and then to keep him from getting damaged. He groaned, ashamed of how good it felt having his ass fucked by Dawn and her little toy. She was right; maybe he was a pervert, if enjoying this meant as much. He began to thrust back onto it with his hips, much as she had done earlier. She made a sound of delight, and gently stroked his hair, clearly pleased with his enthusiasm.
After a while, she shoved the toy more deeply into him and left it there, still buzzing. She settled back on the edge of the bed, slender legs spread wide open. "You shouldn't get to be the only one enjoying this," Dawn pointed out, eyebrows raised, "so get on your knees and make me orgasm, Conway, or I'll take that out." He quickly complied, getting onto the floor where she indicated and lowering his face to her pussy. He lapped at her clit gently, remembering 'research' he'd done online in the past. She responded positively, curling her fingers into his long hair and pulling his head closer. As she grew more aroused, he licked harder, occasionally moving his mouth down to lap at the fluids dripping out of her even more copiously than before. He felt ecstatic from the privilege of pleasing his Dawn with his mouth, and the continued vibration in his ass was amazing as well.
She held him tightly as he made her cum three times, each time filling the air with soft panting sounds and accidentally pulling out some of his hair. His face was dripping with her juices and he was dying to orgasm himself, unable to do anything with his hands bound. Dawn finally pulled him away from herself, catching her breath and giving him a chance to breathe as well. "…That…t-that was good too…" she panted, smiling weakly. He responded with his trademark grin, for once feeling a little like his usual self. "Well of course, my dear. Don't you know me well enough to know that I always do my research?" Rolling her eyes, she smacked him with a pillow, and then pulled him up on the bed next to her.
"You never did tell me why you've been following me." She commented, after a while of silence. Conway stared at the wall, unsure of what to say. "But I think I have a theory." She then went on to say, startling him. A theory? What kind of a theory? Solemn-faced, she pulled at his clothing, untying her scarf and then removing his vest and shirt, as well as yanking his pants off from around his ankles. "I think you've been lonely, and…I've been the only person who seemed real, wherever you went. Right?" Dawn asked, pulling his now-nude body against her own. He clung to her, tears dripping once more.
"But I can't be with you….you're too…too bright for me. I can't live in your world, it'll kill me…I'm not meant for the light." Conway insisted, holding her tightly against him. Her soft kiss startled him; that and the hand that wrapped around his cock where his own hand had been before, gently stroking him as if his body were her own. He leaned into her touch, feeling overwhelmed with all that was happening. "Then you can be with me in your own way…Conway." Dawn insisted, kissing him more deeply, "You can follow behind me, in the shadows…and watch over me while I'm in the light. And at night, when all is shadow, we can be together. Even someone who lives in the spotlight spends much of their time in the shadows….and it gets lonely."
They kissed one another passionately, and in a delirious sort of manner Conway felt as if her radiance were somehow flowing into him, illuminating him with some of the light she exuded. He came hard, and she held onto his body while he shuddered against her, the two feeling matching senses of being complete; two sides of the same coin finally meeting. The vibrator was removed, turned off and thrown onto the floor, and Conway and Dawn passed out together on top of her bed, both overwhelmed by the night's events.
When she arose, sunlight bursting through the thin curtains of the Pokemon Center's dorm rooms, Dawn found herself alone. She stretched, wiping off her body with the towel she'd discarded, and located clean clothing, only bothering to pause once to wonder about what had happened to the underwear she'd left on the floor before her shower. Packed up and ready to go, she exited the Center and headed off down the road towards the town of her next contest. The noonday sun was bright, but in the shadows near the treeline, far off the path, she could only just make out the glint of a pair of glasses in the darkness.