There are many billions of people out there, all of which want to have something to show off to the rest of the people. The poor want to have a voice that they can only have amongst the rich. The rich want more and more and everything in the word. And then there are the outcasts, who want nothing more than to be loved and noticed and cared about.
For a while in her life, Bartholomew, a Poochyena, was amongst the many rich people in the world to be considered an outcast by her own standards. That is, she lacked the love of her parents because she wanted to deviate from being a shining actress on the growing silver screen. For years, they had driven her to be the best actress she could be, but there was one thing stepping in her way: stage fright. And it wasn't even bad, but it just wouldn't leave her alone.
From the plays in her times as a pup to even now, she could barely keep herself together if somebody had their eyes on her. She knew her lines, knew what moves to take, but the moment someone's beady eyes met her own, she either couldn't move or couldn't hold on to her lunch. She had heard her parents call her a disgrace behind closed doors, but she wanted to make them proud. She just couldn't bring herself to do what they wanted from her.
She could barely read normal books, seeing as she had been raised on plays and screens. Holding a book was the easy part, but then came the reading and understanding. She understood basic mathematics, too, but she couldn't tell you anything about education above Geometry. Then there was her English. Oh, it was horrendous. She couldn't even write a letter correctly, let alone a play of her own. She had been driven into a life of servitude, not the freedom her parents wanted from her. And through it all, she was rich. Rich, but a slave to what was expected of her, until a fateful day that changed everything she understood about society and freedom of expression.
The sun was high, thin cloud wisps waved in the air, carried by a wind too far up for most land and sea dwellers. Buildings unlike any other in the Pokémon world towered high over the cobblestone streets. They were made of brick and steel, and towered several dozen feet upwards, casting shadows along the streets and onto the Pokémon down below. Bartholomew was one of them, one in a crowd of many, but she didn't live here. Her eyes were rested far behind her, towards a building that was near the size of a mansion. Scratch that - it was even bigger than a mansion, taking up nearly two acres of land in just home alone. That wasn't including servant quarters or anything that wasn't directly part of the house.
That was her parents' home, and her future. She would have to take over that place when she was grown and able to take care of it and its people. And then there were her brothers and sisters, all of whom had already left the house to find their own fortunes all over the world. But not her, nope. She was still young compared to them. She may have been eighteen, but she was seen as simply a child who needed help to get even brushing her teeth done.
Bartholomew turned her head from looking at the home and to the streets. Confetti lined its outer lanes, and carts had been set up to sell things she had only seen carried and worn by her parents and siblings. Medallions and jewelry lined in gold and silver, and encrusted with diamonds. They were gorgeous, but sour reminders of her life. Everything reminded her of those heretics. She knew she was using that word wrong, but that was what they felt like to her. Just a bunch of heretics and hypocrites.
She continued to walk, nose twitching at the scents of dozens of Pokémon out on the streets. Some were selling food, and others selling homemade decorations. She was sure she had even seen someone selling fortunes and masks, too, but none of that really pleased her. They were beautiful, and her parents would agree. That was why she was out here, trying to find something her parents would hate enough to finally get off her back on being so perfect. She would get a little of a beating, but maybe they'd finally go away and she could finally learn something useful.
Her paws carried her through and beyond the beauty of the shops and to an area untouched by its grace. There was nothing there anyways, so maybe she'd find something here. This was the civilian sector, where everyone lived and conversed. It was not a nice place for anyone to visit. It was dark and dirty and trash littered the streets. It wasn't always like this, but some people just don't care.
Silently, Bartholomew shook her head and continued her way down the broken streets of this depressed town. Smoke hung heavy in the air, and thankfully, Bartholomew was short enough to miss most of it. Her eyes continued to move from building to building, searching for a name that would just be horrendous to her parents, but it was a voice that came before any sign she could find. It was rough, but clear to hear.
"You there, young girl!" The voice had a sort of... British-ish tint to it, but it didn't really have a strong tone to it. Still, it was enough to attract Bartholomew's attention to the Salazzle standing in front of a burgundy door. "You look a little clean to be walking these streets. What are you doing out here all on your lonesome?"
"Oh, uh..." She wasn't sure how to answer. She knew not to talk to strangers, but she didn't fear being attacked. The Salazzle looked a little on the peaceful side anyways. "Well, I'm just looking for a gift for my ma and pa. They're the ones who own that big mansion of on the hill near the entrance to town."
"Ah, so you're a Drévala then?" the Salazzle asked. "I haven't seen your parents in action since they were in their golden days twenty years ago. They've come a long way now. What is it? Four children and a grandchild on the way? It has been ages since they've been on stage." She laughed, claws tapping on the metal railing beside her. "Actually, speak of the devil; I've actually been wanting to meet one of you. I've never been one to give away things, but I think you might like what I want to give your parents. The only problem is they don't like me and I've just been unable to find a Drévala. Until now, that is."
"And what would that be?" Bartholomew asked. "You could just send it to one of their managers, too. They don't tend to question what comes from them anymore, especially after that incident involving a wrong letter and bucket-load of cash and whatnot."
"Yeah, well, as I said, they don't trust me. It's likely they'll have told their managers to ship it right back to me the moment they see it." The Salazzle took a moment to sigh and look to the sky, as though daydreaming. "But, please don't worry - I have nothing bad for them. And if you so wish, please call me Toxic. And stay right there. I'll be right back with the gift."
"Okay?" Bartholomew wondered what Toxic meant as she opened the burgundy door and walked inside. She sat there, wondering why her parents would hate Toxic. They didn't often talk about haters, often focusing on fans and all the people who gave them gifts for being "the best stars out there." Seriously. She didn't want to talk about people beating their rods to their performances or whatever other weird stuff people did. It was disgusting!
She sat there, waiting for the Salazzle to come back. It took a few minutes, but eventually the burgundy door opened and Toxic walked out. She immediately approached Bartholomew and gave her a small box with a handle.
"Take this to your parents for me," she said with a smile. "And when you're done, you come back and tell me, and I'll give you a little treat." She smiled slightly wider, then reached out and pet the Poochyena. "And, hey, maybe I'll throw in something a little more. I know a gal looking for someone like you. I haven't seen you in any shows lately, so maybe you'll take her offer of a job. Just come back when the package is delivered and I'll tell you how to get to her."
"Okay, but, umm... May I ask what's in the box? It's not a bomb is it?" Bartholomew felt a little worried, but that worry suddenly grew when Toxic began to laugh, bending over and cackling like a mad witch. "I-is it?"
Toxic had to catch her breath after laughing for about a minute straight. "No-no, of course it isn't. If it was, I wouldn't be giving it to you to give to your parents. And besides, I have more important people to ship those sorts of things out to. Not that I do because it's illegal everywhere and I'm trying to have a life that isn't behind bars. No, it's just some perfume."
"Oh... Okay." Bartholomew wasn't sure why she was saying okay so often. It just felt right to say, like she could just say it and not be hit for being disrespectful. Was that what freedom felt like? If it was, she enjoyed it. "I'll make sure they get it as soon as possible," she said. "Thank you, Ms. Toxic."
"Oh don't thank me yet," she said, moving away and pulling out a box of cigarettes. After taking one out, she spit a bit of flame and lit it. "Now get going. I have to be at work by seven tonight and my friend is asleep about half an hour earlier. So hurry and run your ass home to mommy and daddy and get back here."
Bartholomew wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or glad at the comment. She chose both sides, then picked up the box with her maw - thank goodness it had a handle - and turned around, making her way back to her home. The sun was still high, so she still had time, but she didn't want to waste any of it. She wanted to be back as soon as possible to hear about this job opportunity and probably even get it.
Getting home should have been the easy part, but of course the marketplace was now full of civilians and tourists alike. Bartholomew was glad to be small so she could fit through the crowds, but there were times where she would brush too close and get a feeling of disgust in her stomach. Not everyone wasn't waist height with her head. It wasn't exactly disgusting, but some didn't bother washing... down there... a lot.
She continued through the crowds, occasionally having to call "excuse me" or "pardon" to someone she couldn't scoot around. She was lucky to get out before anything worse could happen, still with her box and still with her senses in tact. There were a lot of horrible things in the world; she considered being short one of them. Still, she couldn't evolve just yet, not when she was still with her mother and father.
Out of the town, she headed down the dirt road that led to the town gates. About halfway down the road, she took a sharp left and onto a much more sophisticated road made of concrete and asphalt. From there, she made her way to her home. Unimpeded by the guards at the gates, she walked in and through the front door. And there, on their majestic couches of the finest silks in the world, were her parents.
"Ma, pa, I've returned from the marketplace," she said quietly, setting the box in front of them. She knew they didn't like her yelling, so she often spoke as quietly as she could. "I brought you two home some perfumes. I was hoping you would like them."
Her mother, a mighty Mightyena with lustrous grey and black fur, was the first to turn her head towards the Poochyena. Her father was a but slower in reacting, his attention first caught by her mother's tail. He was a Delcatty, one of beauty and grace and an indescribable warmth. It was from him that she had gotten the name Bartholomew.
"It is good that you have finally returned, Bartholomew. I was thinking you had run away and was about to set a servant after you to bring you back," her mother said, her voice strict and as emotional as a wooden baseball bat. "You have missed your noon lessons. It was quite unfortunate to send our friend away because you were busy buying perfumes and whatever ugly trash you have brought for yourself."
"Now, now, Cynthia," her father said, crossing his paws. "There is no need to be so violent towards Bartholomew when she was kind enough to bring us something. In fact, it looks like she has nothing on her at all, nor did she leave with anything. She spent naught but on that box, and as she said, it was for us, correct, Bartholomew?"
"Indeed, pa," she said. She didn't bow her head to them - it had long been a habit, but to them, she found it an utter disgrace to her as a person, as an adult. "This box is for you two. I have nothing of my own but a job offer from a nice lady who knows our family's talents and wants to make them better." She wasn't sure what made her tell the half-truth. Maybe it was fear, or hope they wouldn't stop her. Whatever it was, she had told it.
"Really now?" Her mother slowly stood and approached the box. "At least someone sees use in your pathetic talents. Go on and leave, find this lady and take whatever Arceus forbidden job she can offer a shit like you." She waved a paw to Bartholomew, attempting to open the box. "Stupid waste of space."
Bartholomew fell silent as she was called such a thing. Her ears dropped and her mood turned sour, but she turned and left them to their box of perfumes. She knew they considered her as such, but to be called it straight to the face was a blow she didn't think she would be able to heal immediately from. She left through the front door, then again through the gates and down the road she had come. It had only taken a few minutes, and already she felt regret for returning.
Barely even a few steps out the gate and she burst into a full blown sprint. Tears welled in her eyes, several staining her fur as they made their way down and to the floor beneath her paws. Without thinking, she ran as fast as she could and as far as she could, back to where she had met Toxic, and hopefully to a life better than what her parents wanted from her.
It didn't take long to get back to the town - time barely seems to exist when you aren't focusing on it and just running away. She pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring those she pushed aside, which wasn't many since she was the one really being pushed about. She barely even heard herself apologize to the few she knocked away. She just wanted to get back to Toxic and forget her mother's words.
When her paws hit that of the main town's road, she finally snapped out of her daze and realized just how far she had traveled. It had felt like only a few seconds before arriving here, but it couldn't have been any less than maybe ten minutes. Here to there to here, all within an hour. She knew Toxic would still be here. She had more than enough time.
Bartholomew slowed her pace, now looking around for the familiar door that could lead her to Toxic. Smoke hung heavy in the air, and lights flickered on and off in the small alleys between houses. They were dumps, but it wasn't the citizens' faults. They were victims of corruption, of a terrible opportunity. Not that she heard many complain. Some - she had heard only in passing word - were once slaves to a family on some distant island to the west. Still, they looked happier here in these slums than they probably were back home. The sun shined... sometimes.
Bartholomew shook her head and focused on looking around for the door. She was sure she would have been able to spot it by now, but she couldn't seem to find it. The doors were all black or white or this odd creamish color that reminded of that stupidly overrated Eevee. They were real pompous pricks, all of them. Bartholomew quickly shook her head, focusing on around her. She didn't want to miss the door, if she hadn't already.
Eventually, thankfully, she found the door. Toxic wasn't there anymore, but maybe she was inside. Slowly, Bartholomew approached the door after climbing the steps that led to it. With a paw raised, she knocked on the door lightly, but then followed with a heavier, more determined effort.
There was the sound of something crashing inside the house, then a bunch of swears Bartholomew couldn't properly hear. Eventually, there was a thus, and the sound of footsteps coming towards to the door. Bartholomew steeled her nerves as the door was pulled open, revealing the Salazzle in all her black and pink-purple glory.
"Hmm... It looks like you finally made it back, little one." Toxic slowly opened the door the rest of the way open, but stood in its opening to keep Bartholomew from looking into her house. "Did you deliver the package like I asked you to? Did they open it?"
"Y-yes, ma'am," Bartholomew said. For some reason, she tried to catch her breath, as though her run had finally caught up with her. "They were attempting to open it when I left and came back here. By now, they'll have it opened, whatever it is you actually sent to them."
"As I said, it was perfume." Toxic puffed a cigarette, blowing the smoke upwards into the clouds already above them. "Though, I guess I should be more specific and say it was my company's perfume, which has a nice surprise for those two love birds." She chuckled, then flicked the cigarette away. "Now, as promised, my friend may have a job open for you. She's just down the road. Her office is the building with neon sign of the Braixen so don't miss it. Tell her I sent you and you'll have a job your parents wish they'd had at your age."
"Umm... Okay?" Bartholomew wasn't sure whether or not that would be a good thing. Some nights, when her parents were drunk, they would ramble on about their beginnings and how they had met at a university for something about musical production. Maybe she would be hired as a singer? That was the one thing her parents liked about her; her voice was that of a angel. "I'll... go and check it out, ma'am. See you... soon?"
"Bah, you won't be seeing me for a long time, not until you climb those ranks," Toxic laughed. "Now go on and get yourself there. She doesn't like it when potential employees come in late. And besides, she gets busy. Hurry or you'll miss your shot, hot stuff."
Bartholomew nodded and backed down Toxic's staircase, then turned and looked down the street. She could see the sign further down the road, and wondered to herself how she had missed it before. It stood out in that it actually worked at full power and full shine, unlike almost every other light on the road.
She slowly began to walk towards it, somewhat hopeful that she could finally begin her own career, separate of that of her parents. Maybe it was her fate to be called such horrible names and be chosen by Toxic to find a job her parents wish they had. She could finally shine and be the star she wanted without having to look at anyone! At least, until a concert. Maybe she'd be over her fear by then, hopefully.
Bartholomew smiled and approached the building with the sign. She finally noticed just how intricately designed it was, with every bit and piece of it smoothed in a perfection she had never seen in her life. It was like looking at a river. It looked so natural and peaceful compared to the world around it, like a symbol of movement and refreshment even when times were absolute garbage.
Quietly shaking her head, Bartholomew walked up the steps to the midnight blue door. She took several deep breaths before she knocked on it, her heart racing and beating against her chest. She was wondering who it was that owned this place. There wasn't any name on the door or anything, so she couldn't be sure if she knew or not.
After what could only be described as annoyed groans, the door's lock clicked and it was slowly pulled open a bit. Bartholomew immediately knew just what the white, black, and orange-colored Pokémon was. It was the one on the sign: Braixen.
"Can I help you, little Poochyena?" it asked, almost as if disinterested in her. "I'm trying to catch up on the news and you're ruining my preparation for my beauty rest. Hurry up or get lost."
"I..." Wow, this Braixen was rude. She almost couldn't believe Toxic trusted her, but she saw an odd charm in the snarky nature. "Miss Toxic sent me. She said you were looking for someone like me, and I figured maybe it would be a good o-"
"Shh." An arm was stretched through the door and a finger was pressed against her maw. "Say no more." The door was then opened fully, revealing in full glory the Braixen inside. "So Toxic sent you? Well, that's a mighty surprise. She said the next person she would send would be a Drévala, and while your beauty matches theirs, you can't be. No Drévala would come out here to this shit-hole."
"Well, I'm no normal Drévala then!" Bartholomew chirped loudly as the Braixen pulled a hand away. "I am Bartholomew Sae Drévala, youngest daughter in the Drévala bloodline. And I came here in hopes that there would be an opportunity that my parents can't give me."
The Braixen looked at her surprised, but then shrugged. "Ah, what the hell? Even if you aren't one, Toxic recommended you here and I could really use a second. Just... don't touch anything and look cute while I get some work done."
The Braixen moved out of the way, granting room for Bartholomew to enter the room. She closed the door behind her, her eyes on the walls that surrounded the workspace. There were various bands on the walls, including magazines featuring some very adult themes. Bartholomew felt a bit of a blush come over her as she looked from wall to wall and from face to face, some with their mouth open and filled with a substance she was unfamiliar with, while others had their asses facing the person viewing the covers. They were... hot.
"I see you enjoy looking at my finer works of art. Turns out a lot people really like to look at porn magazines. Turns a tidy profit for me and the people I'm working with - maybe a few thousand Poké per release from just pre-orders alone," the Braixen said, sitting at a desk with a fancy machine Bartholomew hadn't seen before. It was like a phone but large and in the shape of a cube. "Just sit there and gawk for a few minutes. I've just got a bit of work to finish."
Bartholomew nodded and looked at the pictures in all their glory. There were all sort of Pokémon on the magazines, but the two she noticed the most often were a Mightyena and Manectric, often side-by-side but also on their own. Eevee also appeared to be a popular choice, though many of those looked to have been torn to shreds.
There was little more to do than stare at all the pictures and question why she was here. In truth, she didn't want to. This place was, as perverted as it was, a show of something her parents absolutely hated. They had also cried disgust when someone would be selling or carrying such a magazine in public. It wasn't illegal here, so there wasn't anything they could do, and it pleased her to know that. It was such a nice thing to see, but there were questions running through her mind. She didn't get a chance to ask them, however, as the Braixen stood and cleared her throat.
"Alright, it's time we get you cleaned up. I have a few questions for you, but I'm sure you'll have no problem, especially if you say who you are." She turned her eyes to Bartholomew. "So, for now, you'll call me Boss, nothing more or less. No Miss Boss or anything. It is only Boss."
"Of course, Boss!" Bartholomew said with a bit of joy in her voice. This was the opportunity she was waiting for! She could just take it and make her legacy here! "I'll be ready to answer any question you have! I-I don't want to disappoint you!"
"That's good. Now, please follow me," Boss said as she walked towards a door labeled 'off-limits.' "And don't touch the walls. I just had them repainted. They're still wet, and I don't want you tracking it everywhere. Paint of this quality does not come cheap."
Bartholomew nodded and followed her to and through the door. It shut behind them on its own, allowing Bartholomew to follow Boss closely. The wall was to their right, but on the left was a glass wall that gave a perfect view to a stage. On it was a Furfrou and a Luxray. There was a crowd in the seats in front of them, but Bartholomew couldn't tell what they were. Whatever was going on down there was certainly getting a lot of praise as various Pokémon stood and threw things.
Bartholomew quickly focused on Boss, following her every step past the glass wall and around the next corner. There was a lot more walking until they reached a place where they stopped. Boss knocked on the door to her left, which had a big gold star and a weird word on it: Glowstick. Now why would a glowstick in a room be able to answer the door?
As if her question was to be answered right there, the door opened and in it was a Manectric, fur shining yellow and blue. He was a giant beast at almost five feet tall, easily four times her height. He looked familiar, too, like one of those on the magazines in the main room.
"Hey, Boss," he mumbled, almost as if tired. "I didn't know I was on for tonight's show. Thought you said I was staying behind to fix the cameras your guests broke. Stupid things aren't easy to fix with paws, you know."
"I know, Glowstick, but that's not at all why I'm here." She moved and motioned to Bartholomew. "This here is Bartholomew Drévala. You're good at picking nicknames, so I'm putting her in your care for that and... you know, the thing we don't speak directly about."
"Oh, so she's a new recruit!" He suddenly perked up at that. "I would be glad to help with a screen name and interview! It's so much more fun than fixing your cameras." He then turned his gaze to Bartholomew, looking her up and down as though she was a piece of prey. "She looks like a Nibbles to me. You remember the old Nibbles, right? She was a Poochyena, too. She might make a good Nibbles."
"Then Nibbles it is!" Boss clapped her hands together loudly. She then looked to Bartholomew with a smile. "You heard that, right? From now on, as long as you are here, recruit or not, you'll go by the name Nibbles. Tell no one your real name, not even the guests. We don't like the names of our little friends getting out. Safety reasons, of course."
"I-I understand." Bartholomew nodded and smiled back. She liked that nickname. Nibbles... It had a rather pleasant ring to it that she couldn't really describe. Whatever it was, it was a nice feeling. "So when's the interview? I don't want to be late to it."
"Good thing you asked, because it's right now!" Glowstick chuckled and walked out of the room. Now she could get a good look at the whole of his body as he stood in front of her. He was an absolute unit. Muscles rippled under her fur, showing a power you couldn't see from just looking at his face and chest. "Just enter my room and wait patiently. Miss Boss, a few words."
Nibbles nodded and stepped into the room while Glowstick took Boss down the hallway, closing the door as they left. She looked around the room and at the cameras around the room. A lot were focused on the center of the room, but they were blank. Maybe security cams, but why so many? There were a few on a table, too. Maybe they were the ones Glowstick was fixing. There was a mirror, too, but it was too high up for her to use. Darn her for being so short compared to Glowstick. Besides that, there wasn't much to say. Just a box in the corner and all normal things that didn't at all reveal anything special about Glowstick.
She sat there, keeping her eyes on all the cameras and the walls of the room. It was just so... blank and boring. For someone with a flashy name, he sure wasn't all that flashy in style. Maybe it was just how she had grown up, but this room was just so... lame. She wondered when they would get back.
After a few more minutes of waiting, the door was pushed open and in came Glowstick, fur still shining and standing tall. He looked a little upset, but didn't speak as he sent sparks at the door then walked past her to the cameras he was working on.
"So, Nibbles, I am to be aware that you are a Drévala," he began, though he still looked away from her. "That means, and I hope this is true, you have some talent when it comes to posing and being recorded. Now, before we begin, I have a few things for you." He didn't wait as he walked to the box in the corner and opened it. He leaned in and pulled out a clipboard and pen, and a sheet of paper. He slid them to her, then pulled out a bottle of purple liquid. "First, sign that waiver, then you'll have to drink this. Business stuff."
"Umm... Okay?" Nibbles felt a little conflicted as she took the clipboard and pen. On the paper was a bunch of words she didn't understand, so at the bottom, she just signed her name; her real name.
When it was signed, the board was taken and placed with the lights. The bottle was then placed in front of her, and without questioning it, she took it and drank the entirety of the bottle. She may have wanted to question it, but she felt like questions would lead to a place she didn't like.
With the bottle downed, she set it back on the floor. She gagged a little as the flavor finally hit her. It was bitter and sweet at the same time, and there was a hint of sour. It was a horrible combination that didn't mix well at all. She stuck out her tongue, trying to not taste it as much.
"I told you to drink it, not down it in a single gulp," Glowstick mumbled as he walked past her. Using his nose, he turned some sort of locking mechanism. "I guess you did consume it as a beverage, though. Now, do be warned that what comes next stays between me, you, and Boss. Your interview will be, and I cannot stress this enough, painful, physically taxing, and mentally harsh on you. Are you ready?"
"I... I think I am?" Nibbles wasn't sure on if she was or wasn't. She felt ready, but a knot in her stomach held her back. Now that she had spoken, she found she had no choice anymore. She had already said she was.
Glowstick didn't wait for a moment as he approached the much smaller canine. She lowered her ears and head, looking up at his much more powerful glare. He seemed to be checking her out, but then smirked.
"You're small, a little less than the height of my legs." He lifted a back leg, showing off a proud sheathe and balls. "So come closer, shorty. Your interview starts now, and I expect you to not disappoint me. Otherwise, I'll make you my next snack."
Nibbles swallowed at just how forceful his voice was. He definitely had experience, and that tone told her more than enough. She wasn't innocent in any way; she had been a young and curious teen once, but to think this was how she lost her virginity? It was almost unbelievable.
A sharp bark caught her attention and she moved under the Manectric. He lowered his rear legs, laughing at her. She was suddenly pushed forward and face-first into his sheathe and balls. She quickly pulled back, but then came the processing of the scent, and holy fuck was it heavy. It nearly overtook her, making her legs quiver and her body shake. It was intoxicating, manly.
A light hump from Glowstick reminded her of why she was here. She swallowed again, then stuck out her tongue and licked the edge of the sheathe. It was easy to tell it had been washed, but she was still nervous. It took a few licks to get any response, but when he finally began to harden and come out, she finally began to get to work, using her tongue to lick at his growing erection. With a lack of better words, all she could call it was odd but pleasant.
Time seemed to fly as she continued to lick and breathe, taking in sniffs of his musk every breath while her mouth was busy with something else. Her mind felt clouded by the smell alone, but then came the taste of something. It was liquid, and it was coming from Glowstick's dick. It was bitter to taste, but it was a pleasant taste. Her tail began to wag as she lost herself, wrapping her maw around the dick and sucking and licking like, as she had heard her father call someone, "a little slut with no hope of redemption."
Glowstick seemed to like this as a grunt escaped from his maw and he bucked his hips against her face. She was lucky she could hold her mouth open wide enough to not bite into his meat, but that feeling of control changed as a bolt of electricity coursed across her rear end. Her back legs suddenly gave out, numbed by the sudden use of electricity.
"Alright, kid, that's enough tongue," Glowstick said. Another shock and her front legs collapsed, leaving her on the floor. "Personally, blowjobs are both disgusting and unnecessary. However, since you're a fifth or something of my size, I say going in dry is the worst choice I could make." He moved, cock and balls swinging and eyes on the helpless Poochyena. "I like you, Nibbles. Now, don't worry about what comes next. The drink destroys your reproductive system, so the likelihood of you having an egg is now absolute zero. You can thank Toxic for it."
His smirk made her again swallow. He was slow as he placed a paw just under her ass and near her core. He only released a small spark, but her body responded as though it was the greatest pleasure ever. She moaned a bitch's moan, body twitching as a sudden rush of joy overtook her. He continued to use his sparks until she and the floor were wet with her natural fluids.
"Ah, yes, the Drévala 'curse.' Your resistance to electricity is absolute shit and you orgasm just by stimulation, not even actual fun." He sounded so disappointed in her. "Still, I think you have potential. I'll have to recommend you to Boss, but I'm sure we can work out something at a later date to get you more... I guess experienced on par with my skills."
Nibbles couldn't even speak back to him. She was drooling mess; the floor beneath her was soaked with just how much drool she was letting out. The only problem she had was what would come next. She could barely feel anything in her legs, and the only way she could stand was when Glowstick moved her onto position and held her with his legs, dick against her cunt. It was thanks to her neck not being paralyzed that she could tell she was being moved, besides of course hearing him shuffling behind her.
She tried to turn her head, but it barely had any result. At least now with her cheek to the floor she could see behind her and see the giant beast of a Pokémon standing behind her. Yeah, he was definitely five times her size, and his dick was easily almost tall as her (maybe a foot and a half of man meat). If she was lucky, it was just the position making the girthy rod look longer than it actually was.
She swallowed hard as she felt him pressing against her core. Her muscles all tensed, her teeth gritting at the initial penetration. She was, by definition, a virgin. It wasn't the first time something had been shoved through that gate, but it was definitely the largest and most painful. Her body ached as though she were on fire, her muscles tensing and relaxing as wave after wave of electric stimulation ran through her body. Eventually, she couldn't even feel her face. There was only the fire that burned through her being and that throbbing dick that couldn't even get all the way into her.
"Damn, for a little pup, you sure are a tight fuck. Even Boss wasn't this tight the first time I fucked her back when I became her mechanic," he moaned from above her. A few shocks escaped him, running through Nibbles' body. "I don't know how long I can last with you after your blowjob. Fuck."
Nibbles found even his weakened state to be a problem to deal with. She was already drooling, and being face-first on the floor helped her none. The right side of her face was soaked in saliva and both her rear legs were soaked with her pussy juices by the time the paralysis had begun to wear off.
She couldn't even speak, her mind was so focused on the pleasure. His dick couldn't even fit all the way into her, leaving his balls and knot in the lukewarm air around them. He continued to shock her, showing her body little mercy. Another shock sent her again over the edge. She wasn't sure if this was her third or fourth time, but whatever it was, she didn't care - it was the most fun she had ever had in her life.
Her tongue hung out of her mouth, her face coated in drool. As another shock came over her, she howled in a pained pleasure that rocked her body to the core of her being. Glowstick panted heavily above her, his dick throbbing within her as a ferocity she had only read about. It felt like her world was being rocked to no end, and she loved it. She couldn't wait for liquid young to flood her, though she knew she wouldn't have a child.
"Ah, fuck. It's been too damn long," Glowstick moaned loudly, his dick twitching and leaking like a broken faucet. "Ahh~ S-so good~ Prepare for your treat, little whore. Your interview is now finished! Welcome to the force!"
With a howl, Glowstick shoved Nibbles off of him and to the floor. Her chest hit her drool, and a gasp escaped her lips, but there was no time to do anything more. Glowstick moaned out what was perhaps the loudest moan of the day, and a sticky white substance was released from his dick, coating the Poochyena in seed, cum if you would.
The high lasted only a while between the two, with Glowstick falling to his side and watching his masterpiece of a whore. If he had the endurance, he would finish painting her, but that was exhausting. For now, he was glad to see her covered nose to tail in thick ropes of his cum.
"Ah, ah. What a good fuck. Man, I haven't let out my balls like that since Boss hired me for the force. You... You really did a number, even if you did nothing." Glowstick kept panting, his eyes slowly closing shut. He noticed Nibbles' lack of a response, and chuckled. "Yeah, go to sleep, you lovely hoe. Get used to this new life of yours."
It had only been a few minutes of fun between the two, but not everyone was a master the rod. Sometimes, you just needed to let it all out and train your recruits later. That was Glowstick's idea, and he would let Nibbles know when he woke.
Back at Bartholomew's home, her parents were locked in a passionate kiss on the couch. Her father was balls deep in his wife, and she was on top, grinding her hips and forcing her tongue against his. Both of their pairs of eyes stared into each others', a bright pink that shined like a wonderfully painted window.
Beside the two was the box, filled to the brim with perfumes of all sorts, all pink in color and smelling of sweet citrus and mint leaves. Between the bottles peeked a camera with a blinking red dot.
This was Toxic's gift to the parents she hated to love. A show of true love like wild animals in the streets of the forest.
"Love, oh how it was so easy to use to get what you wanted. And how ignorant some fools were to it. Hehe. See you next time, lovelies~" came a sweet voice from the darkness. "Goodnight~"