A Utopian Unova NOT Chapter 21, a pokémon fanfic

Chapter 21 – read, relish, review. Thanks.

Note: The majority of this chapter is in Barry's POV… things get quite weird… you've been warned…

Barry's POV

"Troublesome, are you done yet?"

I wasn't quite sure what Paul was planning with Dawn, but I didn't like it and I learned a number of things about Paul because of it. I asked him what the occasion was and he only countered with unhelpful, nebulous responses. I gathered up all his clothes, in a seemingly endless string of non-cohesive shit, then glued every flimsy, cotton-laded arm sleeve and pant strand together. Actually, that only made matters: he somehow conceived it as a violent attack on his own egotism, which would probably be an accurate account at my feats, but deeming that I didn't get the actual information that I was searching for, his unnatural, hormonal outburst was irrelevant to me. I defied his unimpressive pleas of repression by locking him in a cramped, dark closet. Although, Paul's reins of social dominance that he casts over nearly everything, biotic or inanimate, was enough to penetrate the door, causing an irrational purple haired man to thrust his first into my balls. This took some time to think over. Understanding that Paul didn't want to inform me of his schemes for the day with Dawn was a given, but having to cross the invisible boundary of compelling his hand to my genitals was strange. I couldn't properly think after that. The sole prospect ringing through my skull was questioning Paul's sexuality in disgust, despite having thought about it before. He's so gay for me. Ewww…..

Delighting my own frantic chagrin, I desperately inflicted both my problems – not knowing what Paul would do to Dawn today and Paul's licentious desire for my body – on Dawn. She wasn't much use in solving either, being too distracted by getting ready and actually not knowing the answers herself either.

With the unanimous consensus of every particle in my brain that I wasn't going to get anywhere if I continued meddling, I lurched onto the black couch that was sitting lonely next to an expensive looking glass pot thing. I mused at the object for a few minutes. It looked like some weird cross between a dildo and a mound of diarrhea. Paul probably plays with that at night.

I began flipping through channels. In a superficial fashion of attempting to find channels, shows, commercials, anything that could hold my attention span from the imminent destiny of Paul leaving with Dawn for an entire, probably adulterated day, I realized that nothing would be able to fit said task. I sighed and pulled at my hair. I wonder what Dawn would look like with blonde hair. I ventured in and out of my thoughts, some tangled fragments of dreams from the night before, and was immediately distracted when I an ad for a pizzeria came up. Their mantra was stupid and cliché. The people looked unethically overworked and ill. The actual pizza looked like vomit that was fucked by Paul's face. I decided to call them up.

"Yo! This is … ugh …," He sounds high. "… Pete's Pizza … so like how may I help you today?" the guy breathed lifelessly, a wad of gum drumming the inner sides of his cheeks, making a loud popping noise. Correction: He is high! Yes!

I cleared my throat for about five minutes before responding. I made it a big act: coughing vigorously into the phone as if loose bowels were escaping the confines of my mouth. The pizza guy stayed on the line. His breathing became heavier and breathier. He started to pant awkwardly. Yes! I love this guy! He's one of those people who get high and act totally awesome! Shit is about to happen! After the long silence of collaborated pants and gargles, I began to speak, "Hello, good sir!"

The guy stopped his heavy wheezing orgasm thing and snorted, "Heay, man! Waz up?"

I responded immediately, a smile and instant gleam overwhelming my entire face, "Not much, ay can I see the menu?"

The guy didn't reply as quickly as I had. I became distracted by the clamors in the stoner's background. The phone's conversation was obviously fleeting, if not already so, and things already started to get difficult. "Heay, so like … ugh … I have no … fuckkkking idea no to shove a menu into a phone… my boss did not teachhh me this crap," he paused, thinking aloud incoherently, and then started to make complete sentences again, "Do you know what kind of … pizzzzzza ya want?"

I responded back immediately again, the pace of the verbal exchange becoming irritating, "I don't care as long as the crust is on top! The bastard last time seriously messed up my pizza!"

"Yo … whaaaaat?"

MORON! I HATE EVERYTHING!

I groaned and looked back at Dawn's room, hoping that she was done. She wasn't. I started to pull on my blonde hair again. "Fine, I guess you don't carry that kind of pizza…"

"Totallly… hey what are you wearing … babe?"

"I am completely naked except for the black socks on my feet and the barbecue sauce stains on my chest."

"Wow…so sexay. You sound amazing, gurlll," he slurred. There were loud bangs and a string of undistinguishable words following the racket. Once he seemed to gather himself up and whatever situation he had caused, he began again, "What are you doingggg right now, hun?"

"Sucking black cock."

"Cool."

Silence momentarily took over. Between his still increasingly heavy breathing and my inability to yell at will, as Paul detonated as bad and undesirable, I was quickly becoming more bored than originally started. I yanked on my shirt, gearing the sweat away from sticking to my chest. Why am I doing this? I could be training right now or something! Life is SO hard!

"Heay … man, did you know if you order a pizza, you get to keep the … BOX? I workkk here and never knew that."

"Did you know that I was doing your mom last night?"

" … Sick, man. Did my dad watchhhh?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't. I heard a voice in the background, not sounding too pleased, "Goddamn it, Jerry, why the fuck are you naked?"

"Ugh, like, how man?"

There was immediate yelling where two voices, one under a vertiginous spell of avoiding the questions with his own questions and the other throwing acquisitions to combat the problem, were gradually reporting their take on the situation. I stayed on the line, finally becoming amused with the present situation. There was profanity. There was drama. There was stated yet unseen nudity. There was defiled pizza.

Then the line cut off. I was bored again.

There is just NOTHING to do! I stared at the wall's dull color scheme of white and grey while unconsciously twirling a small lock of blonde hair. In morbid absorption of ogling at the wall, I flicked the plasma screen off, ignoring my desire to call up a constipation ad that just popped up on the screen. My fixation on the wall didn't last long. I flicked my eyes over to a picture of Dawn on my phone. I sighed yet continued to thumb the forward button to the following pictures. There was an assortment: pictures of me, generally naked and Dawn, sadly, fully clothed. There were random pictures of Paul as well, mostly consisting from the night he got high with all the Mareep or times I snapped of him in the bathroom. Once I reached the end of my massive volume of photos, I went to the main menu and opened a new slate for assembling a text message. I was about to compose a beautiful masterpiece of hardcore profanity and graphic pornographic images, then send the whole little treat to Paul, but Dawn called my name. She wanted me in her room. Nausea instantly washed over me. Despite my appetite to avoid boredom, I was corned into the feeling of actually wanting to lapse back into it again.

Gahh! I'm nervous! What does she want me for? Maybe she wants to run away with me and we can start a new life together on some mysterious island? Maybe she wants to have crazy, hard anal sex with me while Paul watches? Ugh, what is wrong with me? Why am I so jittery and anxious? JUST CALM DOWN, DAMN IT! EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE!

I approached her room, albeit as slow as physically possible. I stood at the foot of her room and felt like vomiting. I plunked my shoulder against the wall idly, almost obviously awkward and self-conscious of everything, and waited for her instruction or any signal that could impel me to think about not throwing up. I clenched my stomach.

She slivered out of her closet full of unwavering appreciation for my presence, as if she desperately needed something. She did.

She looked at me carefully, noting my evident depersonalized behavior yet didn't question it and continued with her original pursuit. "Hey, Barry! Do you think you can zip up my dress for me? I can't reach the zipper." She twirled around and revealed her flawless bare, porcelain flesh, cradled by a yet to be fastened white dress. I felt my fingers grow numb. Don't say yes, do not say yes! You know that zippers are deadly institutions bound by metallic traps, Barry! YOU KNOW THAT! You will just ruin her dress if you try. Tell her your fingers are covered in cum or feces or something.

She turned her head and looked at me inquisitively. "Ugh … Barry? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing! Sure, I'll zip up your dress!" I replied hastily and nervously.

She turned back around and straightened her posture. Damn it, look what you got yourself into! I gulped then grabbed the expensive dress's zipper with uneasy hands. Droplets of sweat started to accrue around my forward. I jaggedly pulled the tiny device in a truculent matter. My fingers and the small silver mechanism weren't in sync, making any form of cohesion difficult. I started to get agitated by the zipper's incapability to advance up. I started to pull harder and accidentally nicked her skin in the process. Fortunately, my unsuccessful feat of getting the zipper up in its rightful place went unnoticed by Dawn. She was mindlessly doing her make-up.

I stopped and stared at the zipper for a few moments. I wasn't really sure what else to do, except to continue pulling. Maybe, pull harder? I sighed. Why can't everything just have snaps? Snaps are way sexier. If both our naked bodies were plastered together by snaps, if would be so much easier to get out of than zippers, but then wouldn't I want zippers to stay longer attached to Dawn? Ugh, clothes are just annoying; people should just always be naked.

I looked at the zipper again. It was stuck so I decided to pull harder. I placed one hand on her bare back, earning a giggle from my mouth at the touch of her exposed skin, and placed the other firmly on the silver thing. The position was awkward to say the least and only made the situation more difficult. Yet, the little tick marks that the object passed indicated that the zipper was actually moving and I felt my heart race. The excitement was short lived, however. A sharp noise was heard from the inner workings of the zipper.

Snap!

It broke off.

"Fuck!"

"Barry, are you done yet? It shouldn't take that long."

"Ugh," I said, flinching to force myself to look at the massive slash in the back of her dress and think of a solution simultaneously. "."

She turned around and parted her lips, "What?"

I avoided eye-contact. "WEAR A DIFFERENT DRESS!"

She frowned. "Why?" she breathed, becoming notably self-conscious, and then continued restlessly, "What's wrong with it? Do I look ugly? Is there a stain? Paul bought me this dress!"

Damn it, Paul bought her this dress! Whoopsie!

"Ugh, here I'll help you choose a different dress," I said quickly, avoiding her questions. I ran into her closet and frantically began to look for dresses suitable for a day which I had no idea what was going to happen. Paul was taking her on a date, despite already being a couple, so something sexy right? I scrunched my nose. I should sabotage Dawn's outfit. No… that's mean because this is DAWN! I'll do that to Paul.

I pulled out a short, black cocktail dress. "This?"

"No, I don't want to wear that. Barry … why can't I just wear this? What is the problem?"

"Troublesome, come on, we have to go," Paul called from the living room.

"Barry, stop this!"

I walked up close to her and grabbed her shoulders. "Listen you can't wear that dress become is makes you look … ugh," I paused, knowing the word is going to affect her self-esteem despite not being true, "… fat."

I didn't give her the opportunity to reply, "So take that dress off and wear this … cute black one! DO IT!"

She agreed silently and sadly then moved sluggishly to remove the dress, but stopped. "Barry, I'm not wearing anything underneath."

She's not wearing anything underneath? Whaaat? PAUL IS A FAG! He probably told her to do that. I clenched my knuckles and tried to stop my brows from twitching. "Ugh, I'll look the other way."

I was hard to concentrate knowing that at one small fraction of time, Dawn was completely NAKED behind me. I tried to focus on other things and avert myself from turning around and gawking at her. It one took one mental image to do that: Paul naked. EW! It took a few moments for Dawn to get her dress on then she did she asked me for my assistance again. The zipper this time was much easier, not fighting or lashing out at my pulling. We both left her room once I was done, undaunted by the previous tasks. I wanted to convince her in spending the entire day with me instead of Paul, but she wasn't paying attention. I groaned in annoyance.

Both leaving her room simultaneously, we saw Paul sitting on the couch, fuming. "What the hell were you two doing in there?" he grunted. He tried to hide his obvious indulgence into Dawn's appearance, but failed. He couldn't keep his eyes off her.

"Psh, what do you think, Paul?" I said, mocking his tone of voice and skipped over to him. I mirrored his usual smirk and then replied, "We were playing 'Pin the Dildo on Paul's FACE!'"

He stopped looking at Dawn and redirected his entire attention on me. I pranced to the other side of the room in fear. "You fucking twat," he snapped.

Paul sauntered up from the couch, an air of douche-like solipsism tracing the slick outline of his body. A black silk suit was plastered to his body accompanied by only a shiny red tie and leather shoes. He growled at me. The veins became visible upon his hands and throat. He walked over to Dawn and tightly snaked an arm around her petite waist, pulling the small of her back into him. He's getting territorial? We're brothers and that means we're supposed to share! DOUCHE MOVE!

Paul continued to violently stare at me. His brows critically rose, appearing like trees taking over his face. I licked my lips at him. He coarsely retracted his body, confused and disgusted. He immediately took his cease … with Dawn. They somehow let it go disregarded leaving me alone in their dorm, something that would have never been allowed before.

I plowed the couch with my body, agitated. The one time where I actually get their dorm to myself, I don't want it! My lips crinkled downward. Outright following them would be too obvious. This wasn't like any other ordinary time of letting them do what they want; their time here was inevitable: a mere few weeks, then back to Sinnoh where I wouldn't be in everyday existence. Paul planned a day full of … festivities? I wasn't sure, but I was determined to find out and possibly mess shit up.

I dragged my body, feeling strangely heavy, to the large windows that beautifully put the city of Castelia on display. The sea was stunning and reminded me of Dawn. I smiled to myself. I snatched my phone from the depths of my pant pocket and opened a text message.

The blue void of the ocean

Remind me of your eyes

Like when I put lotion

On your thighs

My eyes traced over the words that appeared on the screen. Being content, I pressed SEND. I exhaled at her pending response, wondering the praise she would say from my beautiful words. My gazed fixated on the sea once more. My phone casually lay on the glass table beside me. I looked over every three seconds to see if I had received any new messages.

Vrhhhhh!

As if a reflex, my fingers swiped the phone from its placid location on the glass table. The message was not what I had expected.

From: Paul

To: Barry

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I swallowed hard. DAMN IT!

I was bumming around their dorm. Indecisiveness and a nearly insatiable longing to watch porn took over my mind. I was irritated at everything and everyone. Turning, twisting, and swirling its internal gears, my mind tried to fabricate some ultimate plan, but it failed to come up with anything other than putting fire to Paul's room. My head swung backwards, slightly rolling off the side of couch. My eyes were barely lit against the cold vicinity of the room. Blood rushed to my head in a desperate need to taint my flesh with a pink-red color. I ignored the awkward pain and looked forward, albeit upside down. My eyes connected with the door of Dawn's room as I developed an idea. By interior instinct, not having to mentally inform them, my legs rocked off the couch and I leaped in the air.

"I AM A GENIUS!"

Paul's 1st Location: Musical Theater of Nimbasa City

I was standing in an overly pubescent and pink room where Pokémon were being dressed in overly obscene outfits. I wanted to get into the arena and out of my current haven of superficiality. My eyes darted to the man in the mask; the guard. There was one way to get in without a ticket. I looked at myself in the mirror that was temporary not being used, a rare occurrence. I winced slightly. On the level of pain it caused to my ego was unavoidable yet I couldn't help but smile at my awesome tactic.

I looked like the biggest whore. I was possibly wearing the shortest black skirt on the face of reality. Although, being a whore was hard. Having a dick and wearing a short skirt weren't exactly two things that were meant to go together, so I opted for black tights underneath the skirt. Wearing the biggest bra, even a whopping DD size, didn't really feel like boobs and that was a HUGE bummer. Actually, wearing and stuffing such a large bra size made it difficult to keep my fake boobs in place. As I couldn't properly show off any amount of cleavage, I was wearing a skin-tight, silk red turtleneck. To top off my whorish ways, I was wearing heels – the striper kind, a lot amount of make-up that I probably put on wrong, and a long blonde wig.

My confidence slightly rose when I looked at my reflection. I looked pretty damn hot as a girl. I turn myself on! I would so fuck me!

I refocused my attention on the situation and slowly strutted over to guard in apprehension, knowing well that he would literally hear my approach. It didn't matter though. He relinquished his stand at the door and walked over to me. I cringed at his wide smile. His teeth were like a car crash. He stood very close to me, the muscles of his forearm scrapping up against my silk blouse. He put an arm against the wall I was standing behind and spoke, "You're new," he paused, licking his mouth, "What's your name, sweet thang?"

GAHHHH! It's working! Men are attracted to me! YES! If I could get this guy to like me, then Paul will fall in love with me in an instant! I just have to make sure to play the part ... and that I don't turn gay.

I twirled a strand of my twig-like blonde wig and blinked my fake eyelashes at him lavishly. He liked it. I started to feel nauseas, but continued nevertheless. I cleared my throat and attempted to make the pitch of my voice about ten times higher, "So, I'm … ugh … Britney, bitch!" Perfect sexy name.

He looked at me incredulously then pressed his body into mine. I wasn't expecting that. He pressed his mouth against my neck and breathed warmly, "That's hot." OH DEAR ARCEUS! It's okay, Barry! YOU CAN DO THIS!

My brain started to fuzz my surroundings and thoughts together. I felt as if I was going to pass out. My vision blurred, my hearing prickled and picked up only loud sounds, and I became lethargic. Things were going terribly. I looked at the masked man and spoke erratically, in my normal male voice, hoping to freak him out, "I need to take a shit."

His light grey eyes gleamed into mine. He smiled. Oh no!

"I'll be right back, I promise," I said back in my girly voice.

I immediately ran towards the dorm of the arena and entered. I was confronted with a barrage of flashing lights and people yelling. I stood in the middle of a walkway in the stands and become nearly trampled by a clique of teenage girls quarreling about Swanna. A few sized me up; doing a comparison of their own individual looks and mine. It didn't take long for realization to wash over: relapsing into their finger's acquaintance and the toilet bowl. I clearly won that fight. I'm pretty good at this girl shit! I'd be so good in one of those chick movies!

I walked up and down the aisles full of people screaming, hollering, yelling, and drinking in joy of the … stupidly dressed Pokémon? What they hell is wrong with people! YUCKY! I attracted the eyes of many men, practically luring them the more I pushed my false breasts out or up. Then I realized something. What… if I masturbate in this … costume, would that mean I'm having sex with me inner male self? Wait, is that incest?

I continued walking in complete oblivion of my surroundings. Walking without thinking at full capacity, I somehow ended in the VIP section of the place. I wasn't sure how that occurred as it was closely secured by men who looked stronger and smarter than the one I deceived earlier. I was in aisles of people with better chairs, service, and in close proximity of the stage. The people themselves were better dressed, had a certain air about them, and weren't making use of platitudes. Many of the men – wealthy men at that – were hungrily watching me down. I smiled at them. They smiled back. I became slightly nervous. Ugh, what does a girl do now? Dawn's super flirty. What would she do? Ugh, I don't know! I wanted to do something sexy, but I did the opposite. I showed them my dick.

My parading around the VIP division was coming to a close. The number of unseen aisles to go through was becoming narrowingly slim. I sighed as I approached the top of the sector and was about to leave the snooty section all together, until I heard a particular laugh. I turned my head towards the giggle and instantly spotted the couple. I crawled on the floor, hoping that no man would get behind me and hump me or that I wasn't showing my junk to anyone who was looking. Luckily behind the seats of Paul and Dawn there was a pair of empty chairs that showed no sign of anyone proclaiming them as theirs. Success at last!

I tried to sit comfortably. That was hard to achieve. The skirt I was wearing being so short made any movement either very awkward or very painful. I ignored my inability to sit like a woman and focused on Dawn and Paul. His arm was wrung around her shoulders snuggly. In complacent advancement, his opposing arm slowly worked it's hand around waist, clearly longing to have her entire body in his lap. Her black cocktail dress was the wrong choice if he proceeded to do so. His tight-wound crotch would be directly under her nearly exposed butt.

He was murmuring very softly in her ear, his lips adroitly grazing her skin every time a word uttered out. Her laughter increased while my anger only began. Paul never talks so softly. AND OF ALL TIMES! I never want to hear his gay deep voice, but just must now! What is up with today? Everything is the opposite of what I want it to be. WAIT! IS TODAY OPPOSITE DAY! Ugh, how do I even try to ruin their moment without being overly creepy? I'll just wait for an opening…

His head was arched towards hers, practically nuzzling her nose with his own. His arms were now completely wrung around her waist and she leaned into his chest, snuggling. They finally made audible conversation.

"I like the way that Zebstrika is dressed," she barely uttered to a very close Paul as she pointed to the Pokémon on stage.

"I don't really," he responded, purposely wanting to get a reaction from her.

She scrunched her nose and lightly punched his arm. "You suck."

I immediately pulled out my cell phone and quickly punched in a text then sent it to Paul. They say that if, in conversation, a word is said and then the exact same word is given in visual depiction, it will only be a natural instinct for the individual to say whatever the image said, aloud. I will test that theory RIGHT NOW!

Paul didn't reply and instead opened the vibrated phone in his pocket. "Correction: I suck dick?"

Dawn instantly released her hold on him and jolted up. "What?"

His whole face turned a blaring red color. "What? Fuck no! I am not gay. I just … just … just … can we just drop it? I got some random text message that says private number and I read it aloud, okay? Do you need to see it? I am not fucking gay or like cock in my mouth."

The two fell silent and remained immobile for the following five minutes.

Wanting to make his day perfect and avoid awkwardness, Paul brought a completely irreverent subject up, that I failed to hear, and almost instantly turned the nearly palpable silence into a restored comfortability. I groaned and rolled back in my chair. They continued talking to one another in the same frustrating pattern: discussing something normally until Paul gets negative, then Dawn gets flirty and the two completely forget the entire conversation and, three minutes, later start the same routine again. They balance each other so well… even though they're at opposite ends of the personality spectrum. UGH! Doesn't matter because Paul likes dildos! But then why is their relationship becoming so strong? They haven't even had sex! Is Paul really wooing her? FUCK HIM! GAH!

I flipped my long, fake blonde hair out of my face and refocused on the two, becoming sickened in the process.

Her sapphires opened wide and looked into Paul's onyxes. A sole finger traced his cheek affectionately and she smiled broadly. He gave a glint of the same exuberance. At his splurge of fractional happiness, she batted her eyes flirtatiously and put her mouth in his. He pulled her body on top of his and with agreement, she mounted her legs around his waist. She arched her head down and delicately continued to kiss him, hands still glued to his cheek. His hands were tied on her hips and he returned each kiss. I began to grow sick. Their deeeeep kiss broke when the food cartel came and asked if they needed or wanted any food. Paul was ticked at the guy for destroying their little session and purchased one bag of pretzels to make him go away. When the man came over to me, I got an idea.

"Why hello, miss," he purred. I felt my cheeks become tainted with heat. I couldn't explain why or how so I decided to let it slide. I momentarily ignored Paul and Dawn to talk to the food guy, "Hello, young chap." He frowned at my friendly approach. I rolled my eyes. Ugh, hell with it then!

I pushed my phony titties out and winked at him. "I would like something."

"Yeah?" he said, moving close to me.

"Three thick sausages," I whispered keenly. "And I want to watch you eat them."

"Ughhhh… what?"

"Do it," I said, going up to him and licking his face.

He looked at me skeptically and then complied. He nervously took out three rather imitating sausages and looked at me again. I nodded at him. He began shoving the phallic shape in his mouth. I allowed him to eat the whole first one before I started my plan. As be began putting the dildo looking food into the hole on his face, I started to talk, "Yeah…thrust that long stick into throat. Yeah, you better enjoy that. You look so hot putting that in your mouth. Do you have a boyfriend that you do this often on?"

By the time I said 'thrust,' he was already gagging quite vigorously. I smiled ecstatically. It's working! I just need to push him a little further…

"Come on; put the whole thing in that fine hole of yours. You know you want to. Do you need another dick – I mean sausage – to help you out?"

It was too much. He threw up.

"AGHHHHHH! WHAT!"

I looked at the disaster. I silently cheered to myself at the victory.

Small chunks of meat and various other particles were now atop Dawn's head, bleeding through the strands of her hair and seeping into her eyes, mouth, and ears. Her entire head looked disgusting. I actually didn't want to put the mess upon her, and I felt guilty because of it, but I couldn't think of anything else. She immediately pounced up in a hysterical matter and scowled at the food guy. She didn't bother to talk his head off and instead bolted for the nearest bathroom. The food guy himself left the predicament while Paul sighed. I snatched the untouched sole sausage left by the guy and preceded with my next move.

I crossed my legs and put the tip of the sausage in my mouth, then spoke, "Such a moron."

Paul turned around, hearing my voice, and was about to agree until he saw the sausage in my mouth.

"Ugh… yeah," he said becoming rigid.

I shoved nearly the whole thing in my mouth, licking it lusciously at times, and pushed my chest out just enough to touch his face. I slightly looked him over and smiled inwardly. His whole face was red, he was sweating awkwardly, and was blabbering incoherent phrases. Once I finished devouring the meat, I smiled at him and licked my fingers dry. All he did was continue to gawk.

"Hey champ," I murmured, slowly edging myself towards Paul and shoving my fake double D breasts into his face. His face was devoid of any emotion or flush now. The entirety of his body was really, really stiff. He couldn't compose sentences anymore and was noticeably more rigid than earlier. I started to advance on him. He didn't and couldn't move.

I slowly, creating an enticing dance with my body, emerged from my seat. His eyes were pinned on me. It was actually kind of scary having Paul look at me the way he was. I made it essential to, by no means, look at his face any longer. I began mounting his body, my legs on the sides of his waist, making sure that my skirt was in proper position not to show off the surprise in my tights, my arms were bound around his neck, and my face was directly in front of his. Every move I made – dramatic or diminutive – made him all the more hard. I started to get worried. Does he have a boner? EW! I'M GIVING PAUL A BONER! EW! AH! AH! AH! CALM DOWN, BARRY! It's okay! You're just acting in character and doing a fine good job! If anything, Paul is the gay one for getting turned on by another man not you for actually turning him on. Why is he allowing this to happen, though? My costume must put some magnetizing spell on men…

I stared at Paul's face and shivered. His eyes had a crazed look in them, malicious, scathing, and lethal as if he wanted me to remain on his lap, but yet wanted me to rot in hell simultaneously. The usual tan composure of his skin was absent, the only remains were of a poor porcelain calamity. Both our concentration was placed on the other. I winced. What do I do now?

I gazed upon his lips. Supple. I calmly, carefully dropped my head towards his and our eyes locked. My claws slightly tugged at his shirt. There was chemistry, indescribable chemistry; a whorish magnetism. My alter-ego was working too well. It was a sin. I fucked up. He arched his head upward, so slowly approaching my mouth, the space between us becoming smaller and smaller and smaller…

I blinked worriedly, trying to escape this nightmare. It went too far.

My lower lip scratched his upper one then retracted. Space between our mouths became measurable again. The air zapped our now saliva adorned lips and traced the tracks left behind. My sinning continued. It kept soaking up within the confines of Paul's mouth. Our lips shifted in and out, slowly and rapidly. Heat was growing, enlarging, pacing through our bodies. We started touching the other – unbuttoning noisy little buttons and crossing boundaries. I wasn't in control anymore.

It was sad.

Then we separated and realization washed over me. I fucking made-out with Paul! I looked at him from my place on his lap. His face was like a war field: there were various blotches of red left behind from my overly red lipstick and his hair became obscured under my furious hands. He was blankly staring at me. We were both waiting for what was going to happen next. Looking at him made me cringe knowing that I had created that facial chaos and ravenous glint in his eyes. I closed my eyes as my head became abnormally light and a pang occurred in my stomach. I was appalled with myself.

"I made out with Paul." The phrase kept ringing, screaming throughout my skull, rattling the sockets of my eyes and the nostrils of my nose. I shook my head at the thought. My fake blond curls bounced at my mental refusal. Did I really just…? Yes, I did. I began to panic and desperately searched around for something that could reverse the lip-lock. I found nothing.

A sliver rung throughout my throat, the contents of the sliver being unknown to me yet felt terrible. It climbed the morsels of my tunnel and first started out like a light, approaching burp, but instantly became a sponge soaking up everything. Then I tasted in as it oozed into the corridor of my mouth. It was the sausage. Shit. My will caved in, rather freely at the sin that I just committed, and the river of sausage stomach acid busted through my mouth. It landed on Paul. It felt wonderful. His whole body was heavily coated in my digested juice.

His suit was wrecked by mucus loving stomach acid.

I gladly dabbed the small trail of throw-up left from my face onto an untouched part of his arm sleeve then leaped off his body. He looked at me dubiously, not quite sure at what just happened. It wasn't exactly how I wanted my plan to go, but it worked… kind of. Before entirely leaving Paul there, I thought of something.

I strutted behind his head and whispered in his ear, "Hey… you want to see something?"

At that point, Paul's mental capacity had long left him and he was left with the mere ability to plainly oblige. "Ughh…"

I smiled at him and then immediately took off my skirt and tights. I shoved my dick in his face.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!"

Paul's 2nd Location: Big Stadium of Nimbasa City

"Paul, can we please just go back to the dorm?"

"No."

"Paul, we both smell and look terrible. I really don't want to do anything else and I doubt that you do. Can we just leave?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because the last few weeks have sucked and I wanted to take you out for just one mere day of escape and it's going to fucking happen. I don't give a shit if we had the worst fucking luck and got puked on… and stuff, it just doesn't matter. Today will happen."

I was currently following Paul and Dawn on their next location in the city: the Big Stadium. I looked between the two and smiled. Today has gone PERFECT so far… well not entirely… I did make out with Paul and get him weirdly horny and he saw my dick and I felt awkward in a skirt and I threw up BUT it doesn't matter because I ruined their morning! If I wasn't there they probably would have made-out and their relationship would probably have gotten stronger, but it didn't! I'm just too good! I will make sure that Dawn will be mine in the end! I punched a fist in the air silently, baking in my glory.

Despite my morning of glorified mischief, I had to make sure that the rest of the day would be carried out with the same quality of triumph. I was no longer wearing my whore outfit, fearing that I'd have another man on man make-out, but was rather dressed as an old man. I had huge brown trousers that resembled a fully loaded diaper, bright red overalls, classy loathers that were two sizes too big for me, and a cap that could cover my youth bearing face. I gleamed. I look super sexy as an old man! Let's just hope that this disguise has better results than the slut one…

Dawn was lagging behind Paul, irritated. She faintly yawned and coursed a hand through her hair. "Paul, can we at least stop to get new clothes or something? Ours are ruined."

He turned around and clenched his fists, probably still mad at his encounter with my forged female alter-ago, making even the slight pulse of annoyance aggravate him. "Fine."

They continued walked in total clash of conformity. I followed them, leaping in and out of bushes so I would go unseen. They eventually led me to a very expensive looking designer clothing store and I continued pursuit on their trails.

Once in the store, the couple was quick to mingle. Dawn lightly clutched Paul's hands and brightly prized a full smile in the center of the store, permitting others to gawk at the 'gorgeous' duo. Meanwhile, I was hiding behind a rack of women's panties. Every individual panty type had a different color, style, smell, and taste. Actually, they weren't really panties, but rather fragments of cloth frailly slinked on a hanger and sold for an insane amount of money. Do women really enjoy underwear that ride up their asses? That must be really uncomfortable! Wait… EW! How about if a girl didn't wipe good after pooping and then she put the thong on? UGH! The poop would smear all over the material and leave brown stains on her ass. GAH! Damn it, stop! Pay attention!

I reverted to focusing on the two, relieved that I didn't lose their situated location. With my hands and knees on the floor – clothes quickly becoming scoffed by various dust globs as a result – I crawled over to the section that they were at and hid beneath a rack of normal clothes. I looked at them and felt a need to throw up.

Dawn's small body was embraced in Paul's arms as they searched for clothes together. His face was nudged into her neck, breathing lightly and speaking the fluent language of arousal to her. She giggled at his touch only allowing him to further pursue his clever antic. I started to get angry and felt like punching Paul's foot with my head, but prevented myself.

"Paul," she purred, twirling in his grip so she was faced to him, and then resumed, "Can we share a dressing room?"

He smirked, messily pulled an assortment of clothing without caring to look, then ran towards the dressing rooms with Dawn. There was nobody even merely guarding the women's section and they went in together unnoticed. I swallowed hard. This can't be good.

Paul chaotically, as if his life depended on it, rushed into the biggest dressing room located at the end of the many aisles. Limbs and strands of clothes became tangled between the duo. He viciously tore any finicky cotton materials off and into the corner of the room, then pulled Dawn into the changing stall. His hands were on her waist, their bodies clanging up to the other in sexual tension of plowing the opposite.

Goddamn it! Their having sexy time in a dressing room? I've always wanted to do that! Ugh, I need to stop them!

Paul pushed Dawn greedily against the wall. Their eyes showed solely attraction of the furthest depth. She first ravaged his mouth, doing a perfect job of getting him to moan loudly. When he started to gain control, it was the opposite.

"Paul, you're… you're…," she moaned as he ripped her flimsy shirt off and began sucking her collarbone and neck. "You are… wonderful."

I desperately search around the room, for literally anything that could help me stop the increasing hormones of the pair. My eyes connected with the janitor's closet and lying innocently next to the door was a barrel that held the deadliest concoction of filth. I grabbed the bucket and marched over the room that Paul and Dawn were using. I wasted no time and hurdled it over the wall.

"AHHHH, PAUL!"

"FUCK, AGAIN?"

Paul's 3rd Location: The Famous Ferris Wheel of Nimbasa City

I felt invincible. I successfully managed to destroy every one of Paul's plans for the day and was still going strong. It was amazing.

After the mess in the mall, Paul and Dawn cleaned themselves up in their respected gender-orientated bathrooms then headed to the last destination on Paul's list: the Ferris wheel. Dawn requested to go back to the dorm again, but was shot down by a persistent Paul thinking that this would make up for everything else. He will be proven otherwise!

They were in line waiting anxiously to ride the thing. I knew that I had to make amicus of matters before they got on, but time was limited to think out an elaborate plan and I worried. Gah! What do I do? What should I do? THINK! Ugh, they're almost at the head of the line! Come on!

I decided at the last second to just barge Paul to the ground and push myself and Dawn into the Ferris wheel's metal cart. I did just that and it was a success.

Now I'm sitting with Dawn in the trap with my identity revealed and not sure what to do. She wasn't angered by my brigade on Paul, but she seemed bothered by something else entirely. I looked at her.

Her eyes were glistening in the moon's flicker across the urban land. It was more than the tangible life that coexisted within the profound sapphire of her eyes, it was her composure, her humming to ease her mind from the absence of her usual protector. A puff of air escaped her pouted lips as she rested her head on the arm perched upon the metal door. Her eyes loosely glazed over the night's atmospheric bound of light and movement. The lashes of her eyes swept her skin ever so gently as she blinked. Her face read of only incomprehensible thoughtfulness. A hardly noticeable breeze brushed through the Ferris wheel, rattling both our clothes against our bodies and the hairs on our heads. I scooted slightly closer to her body, wanting to be closer to her presence. She took immediate notice at my motion. Her eyes locked within mine. We sat in silence staring at one another.

Her finger rung in a rebellious strand of blue hair that was pelting her cheek as her eyes glazed over me shyly. "Barry… I… I…" Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes held an immediate gloss to them. "Barry, I feel so confused."

I looked at her. She was vulnerable, scared, and uncertain. She didn't even have to say what the problem was because I already knew. I'd seen her like that many times before, but in different circumstances, circumstances where the guy was a total douche or bastard which only led to her unavoidable inability to trust, but this was different. I had created this. I was too selfish to notice the damage I was causing. But I love Dawn… unconditionally. I gripped my head in pain. There was a turmoil going through my head and I wasn't sure what side to be on.

They weren't in love, Dawn at least, but I couldn't just release her to go and be wild with Paul. He was the dangerous type, like all her others. Why would it be different? I glanced back at her. But it was different. I knew it yet wouldn't admit it to myself. Although, it wouldn't be like she'd run away with him and get married and have tons of kids. That would never be her. She'd just eventually fall in love, if that was even possible. Paul could go the highest extent of wooing or arousal, but it would be nothing on her. She might even be incapable of true love. He would probably fall for her first and have a difficult time grasping her conflicting emotions. Still, I wouldn't be the only she's with. But can I cause her pain to only comfort my own missing whole? No…because I know that she could actually fall in love with me. But…

"I don't know, Dawn. If I told you my opinion, it would just complicate the situation," I paused, clenching my jaw, knowing the next words that would leave my mouth would hurt, "I think I'm going to go back to Sinnoh. You and Paul will be done in like three weeks so it doesn't really matter anyway."

I said nothing to her the remainder of the ride, herself doing the same as well. However, that kind of ticked me off. I wanted to know what she was feeling, but then it would have just been irrelevant anyway.

The rest of the ride we sat in deathly silence and once the ride is over, I leave immediately. Releasing him from my Pokéball, Staraptor came out and I jumped on his back and together we rode into the endless void of darkness in the sky.

Paul's POV

I watched Troublesome ride the fucking Ferris wheel without me, pissed that I somehow was yielded to the gravel of the ground. Bastards. I was sitting on an old bench with a fucking old man sloppily eating ice cream besides me, spilling the vanilla substance all over his damn clothes like a child. I was left with solely my thoughts and instantly became livid at my inability to create a day devoid of problems. What the hell is wrong with my ass?

When the stupid metal contraption eventually stopped, people began to pour from their individual carts. I dodged people who had no decency to move and started to look for Troublesome. She was one of the last ones off. She looked down, something obviously bothering her, yet once she saw me, that all disappeared. I didn't feel like questioning it and ran up to her, but she started to dodge me.

"Troublesome, stop," I barked annoyed at her childish behavior.

She giggled and winked at me, purposely swishing her body around. "Paulie, you're not very good at chasing me," she purred, an evident double-entendre behind her words.

My brows furrowed and I blushed slightly. "Don't be a difficult little brat, Troublesome. I'm not in the mood."

She continued to dart in and out of my grasp until she tripped over a large rock, falling to the ground. I jumped on top of her.

"Ow, Paul that hurt," she winced, wiggling underneath me. I allowed her to change her position to where she was facing me and not the ground, but my hands were still pinning her wrists to the ground and my body was still fully atop hers.

She looked at me incredulously, her sapphire orbs slightly expanding. I didn't say anything back and continued to gaze over her face. The light of the moon skimmed over her creamy skin and accentuated her distinctive features. I couldn't take my damn eyes off her.

"What?" she asked tentatively, cupping my face with her dainty hands. She pouted in somewhat irritation. I smirked and tamely laid my lips upon hers to which she happily returned the gesture, biting my lower lip and tracing kisses along my cheek. We stopped and as I looked longingly at her face, I realized something.

I think I'm falling in love with this girl…