Game Theory ~ A Salazzle Story
Disclaimer: The following events are true, but names and other details have been changed to protect the identity of those involved. Any resemblance to real pokemon trainers is coincidental.
Riley, here. You still with me? Okay, good.
Just starting? GO READ CHAPTER ONE FIRST, YOU EGG!
It's been about a month since my first story. Where should I begin?
Tryst has settled in reasonably well. I've repaired most the damage she caused. She's stopped trying to escape, and has been somewhat receptive to behavioral training. Ever since I rescued her from the sewers, I've noticed a marked change in her attitude. She's more willing to make eye contact, more likely to sit still when I'm talking to her. And she's starting to learn how to ask for things instead of taking them by force.
It's funny: Tryst feels a need to steal her food even if it's presented to her. If I offer her a meal, she may pretend to not want it. Or she'll snatch it out of my hands before I'm ready to give it to her. Doing this gives her the illusion of control. It's honestly a little funny … but last week, she actually waited for me to hand her food dish before eating! So you see, she's starting to trust me. And like I've been saying: trust leads to respect; respect leads to obedience. All things considered, I feel like I'm making good progress.
But despite everything that's happened ... ugh, how do I word this?
Arceus, she's a such a little shithead!
I admit, few pokemon have tested my patience as much as Tryst. She stands out as a true sociopathic terror, nearly on the level of Lilith (who, by the way, has spent the last few days terrorizing me with psychic hallucinations because "it's amusing to hear me scream").
Let me recap the stunts that Tryst has pulled in just the last three weeks:
She convinced my lucario to unlock the pokechow storage and proceeded to eat until she puked. She did it again the next day, and puked again. I've since hidden the key.
She stole her Luxury Ball and convinced the onix to smash it to pieces. I transferred her to a regular pokeball and she had the onix smash that, too. We're currently on her seventh ball.
She made the rhydon give her daily back massages ... I don't even want to know where she got that idea from.
She convinced the sandshrew brothers to spend two days digging an expansive underground burrow for her to sleep in. She's used it exactly once.
She forced my lucario to be her personal footstool for an entire day because he called her a "walking scented candle" (that was his best insult yet).
She has used other pokemon to climb my fence, only to return with food she stole from the neighbors. I've had to apologize to them so many times.
She conspired to stage a pokemon mutiny because we were out of pokepuffs and I didn't feel like baking more.
To be fair, I've read that most salazzles are not this bad. I did my research, and I found plenty of trainers with loving, loyal salazzles. But they were all caught young. That's the key: you train them up from a salandit, and they're much more well-behaved. But Tryst was caught as an adult salazzle. She survived by being the greediest, most manipulative salandit in her area, and she only evolved by hoarding extra food to fuel the evolution process. It's hard to get pokemon to un-learn the very skills that they depended on in the wild ... so I can't fault Tryst for doing what's natural to her.
But I have my limits ...
You see, I haven't started on her sexual shenanigans.
The damn lizard has tried to seduce me more times than I can count.
And it's not just me, either! After I pushed her away enough times, she turned her eyes to Rufio. I was not surprised when Tryst started pursuing him: they're about the same size and build. But Ruf – in typical lucario fashion – is fiercely loyal to me, and particularly resents any pokemon who makes my life miserable. So imagine how conflicted he was when Tryst began to court him. It was almost cute watching Rufio get all flustered at her advances. He'd push her away, she'd push back, they'd viciously fight, abruptly stop, then have wild make-up sex. Break, rinse, then repeat. He's getting better at resisting the pheromones, but it's only a matter of time before they overpower him.
But Rufio wasn't her only fling. Before I knew it, Tryst started making her rounds. I must admit: this salazzle was truly a pioneer of sexual experimentation. Within a few weeks she had screwed every male in my care. She even fooled around with the onix – and don't ask me how (it's not like I watched!). I tried to not let it bother me: sex, afterall, is uh ... a perfectly natural, normal thing ... for a pokemon to do ... over and over and over again.
And the worst part is, she'd always come back to me in between flings. It's like none of my pokemon can satisfy her, so she's always testing me, trying me, convincing me to have sex. It's bizzare!
I've read the stories, heard the rumors, seen the internet memes ... but I always figured they were exaggerations. Like, alakazam don't literally have an IQ of 5000, staring into a shedinja's shell won't actually steal your soul, and larvitar can't eat entire mountains. But salazzle really are the promiscuous little devils that people make them out to be. However, there's a catch. Everybody knows where pokemon eggs come from ... yes, even your local pokemon daycare (especially your local pokemon daycare). Sex is a natural part of life. Some pokemon have sex to procreate, while some do it for leisure, or to assert dominance, or to strengthen social bonds ...
But for a salazzle, sex is never just sex.
Nah ... sex is really about control. And salazzle are all about control.
Unfortunately for me, the intricacies of salazzle sexuality isn't really something you can easily research (without finding a boatload of questionable content), so I was in the dark for this one. Initially, I had fallen into the same stupid, juvenile gawking that most other trainers would do. It was only later that I realized there was a method to her madness.
Here's the down-low on salazzle sex that no trainer's manual can tell you: salazzles will entice males only when they want something ... which make them no different from my ex-fiance (fuck you, Janice!). Once mated, the salazzle considers that pokemon marked as their slave. I know this because I've seen Tryst repeatedly sniffing her slaves to verify she's left her mark. It's only after this, that the salazzle will order that pokemon around. Salazzle sex, therefore, is sorta like a formal signing of a contract ... and one that's not always willingly signed!
By the time I figured this out, she had already established "contracts" with half the pokemon under my care. I was worried, but not as worried as whenever she tried to seduce me. And now that you know how salazzle sex works, you can see why I couldn't let that happen ...
I mean, there's the obvious reason: she's a pokemon. I couldn't ever actually bang a pokemon. That's just so weird and gross. Well okay, maybe I've had a passing thought or two ... but I'd never actually do it! Most trainers have had a passing thought about it at one point ... it means nothing, okay? It's just that–
Ugh, she's still in your head, Riley ... cool the jets.
Sorry, even though the pheromones are long-passed out of my system, I can still remember what it feels like. That powerful, intoxicating urge, how it over-rides every other thought in your mind ... when it hits you, you lose all control. And you'd think you would be horrified that you're no longer in control of your own actions, but the truth is, in the moment, you just don't care.
But man, this wasn't even about morals, anymore. I'm the human, I'm her master. I call the shots, not her. I wasn't exactly keen on letting her think I was her slave: that would completely destroy the trainer-pokemon relationship I'm trying to build!
Okay okay, so maybe it's an ego, thing too ... I simply couldn't let the lizard win.
Anyway, where was I? Right, it's been exactly three weeks since Tryst entered my life. I sat at the table, groggily reading today's Saffron Morning Post. Cereal milk dribbled down my chin as I perused the articles. I heard her sneaking up behind me: her claws clicked on the kitchen floor.
"No, Tryst," I muttered.
The salazzle approached from behind. She slid her long fingers around my waist, churring softly in her throat. Her touch traveled south. I removed her fingers from my crotch.
"I said no."
She wormed her way between my legs and slithered herself up between me and the newspaper. I sighed. Tryst looked me in the eye and wiggled her hips, struggling to press her crotch against mine. She's been testing me every morning, seeing if I'm more receptive to the idea.
"The answer's still 'no'." I pushed my chair away and stood up. Tryst came with me, clutching my chest. I carried her into the living room and peeled her off of me, dropping her onto the couch. I tolerated these little tests, but only because she wasn't using her pheromones.
Tryst glared at me from the edge of the couch as I returned to the table. I glanced to Rufio, who discretely nodded at me. The lucario had been at the edge of the hallway, watching her every move. He's become awfully protective of me ever since this started.
Tryst snorted in disdain and got to her feet. She opened the back door and let herself out ... leaving the door open (I hate it when she does that). Rufio closed it and continued to monitor her through the blinds. I went back to my newspaper. There's an article here about a trainer winning a local tournament with nothing but a pichu ... whaaaat? It says here he beat a pikachu, a jigglypuff, a charizard, a greninja, an incineroar, and even a mewtwo!
"I sense the Demon Lizard is grumpy. She has resorted to fornicating with the three-headed squabbler."
"Mhm," I muttered, trying not ignore him. The next page had story claiming an articuno was spotted over Cerulean City ... interesting. Traditionally, articuno sightings have signaled the coming of winter. But we're in the middle of summer right now. The article suggests that we're in for a cold snap ... ugh, why do people still believe that pokemon control the weather? Nah, something must have forced this articuno out from hiding. But what? Only a seriously strong pokemon (or trainer) could do that.
"The Demon Lizard has convinced the anxious fire dog to join. She's nursing him like a hungry mil–"
My spoon dropped from my hand, splashing into my cereal bowl with a clatter. "Ruf, do you have to do that?"
Rufio jerked his head away from the blinds. "What?"
"I don't need play-by-play updates on the sex lives of my pokemon."
Rufio's aura-sensing stalks quivered. "You ... you are uncomfortable. Is this one of those human things?"
"Yes, it's one of those hu ... they're called faux pas! It's a Kalosian saying." I turned to him. "It's weird to talk about stuff like that. I don't need to know, okay?"
"My apologies, Master."
Sighing, I go back to my newspaper. I ruffled the pages–
The newspaper turned into an angry swarm of zubats. I screamed and fell out of my chair as they swirled around, screeching, gnashing their teeth. I landed on my tailbone. Hard. The newspaper pages fluttered to the floor. Just newspaper, no zubats. Somewhere in the house, out-of-sight, I heard the distinctive throaty cackling of a kadabra.
"Murkrow, Lilith!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "I swear I'll do it!"
"Shut up your face."
"All it takes is a five minute phone call and a three hour train ride!"
"You bring home a murkrow, and I will murder your face."
I slammed my palms on the floor. "Here we go again! And where would you go if I'm dead, Lilith? Would you take your velvet sleeping pillow into the wilderness and eat rotting berries off the ground? Two days ago you threw a pokepuff in my face because it wasn't fresh out of the oven!"
I waited for a response, and when I heard nothing, I felt a moment of pride. "Yeah, that's what I thought!" I picked up the newspaper and got back in my chair. Arceus, what an entitled little prick ...
"I heard that."
"And get out of my head!" I yelled. The nerve of that miserable, spoon-worshiping, short-stacked, maladjusted, sociopathic, wrong-natured, poor-EV-trained bundle of misery ...
"I heard that, too."
"Fuck you!"
I always tell people that the best thing about being a pokemon rehabilitator is that there's never a dull moment in my life. They have no idea ...
The rest of my day proceeded as normal. I returned the onyx to the shelter. His fear of smaller pokemon was due to a crushing accident with his previous trainer. I've taught him to temper his strength and he was doing well enough to be adopted. I accepted a new pokemon, a scyther. Mr. Sword-For-Arms, shall we say ... was enthusiastically affectionate, and his trainer never taught him how to express that affection without causing massive bodily trauma. Ugh ... scyther are gray-listed for a reason, people!
In the afternoon, it was time for Tryst's training session. We continued basic obedience training, trust exercises, teaching her rights and wrongs ... like, don't scratch people when you don't get your way. And no scratching also means no biting. And no biting also meant no tail slams. Physical violence was a tough habit to crack.
... and I so much as caught a whiff of pheromones, she'd answer to the slowpoke. That part Tryst has leaned rather quickly. She despises Daisy. I have to keep them separated at all times, or she'll bully her. The damn lizard even stole Daisy's pokeball off of me before. I have to keep it hidden now. Only me and Rufio know where she's kept. Thankfully, Tryst hasn't caught on that Rufio knew, or she'll seduce the information out of him.
Tryst seemed more aloof than usual today … which was saying a lot. She kept going to the gate and trying to get out of the training room. I'd have to pick her up and put her back in the center, but she wouldn't sit still for more than a few minutes.
"What is your problem!?" I asked, exasperated.
Tryst stamped her foot down. "Rerr-k-k-k! Grnn, hsss!"
I sighed. "I don't know what that means. Work with me, Trsyt … show me what's wrong."
The lizard puffed an angry snort and looked away.
I sighed. "Fine ..." I went to the window and opened it. "Rufio!" My lucario was in the backyard, playing with the other pokemon. His long pointy ears twitched at the sound of his name. "Come inside. I need help with Tryst."
Rufio dodged my gaze. "I do not wish to be within sniffing range of the Demon Lizard."
"I only want you to talk to her. It'll take one minute."
"Can you first disable her infernal stench?"
"Just get in here! Find out what she wants."
Rufio reluctantly got to his feet. "At once, Master."
My lucario entered, but conspicuously stayed close to the exit. Tryst gave him the cold shoulder. The two talked. You know, I have no idea how two pokemon understand each other. They have no universal "language", yet even through growls and grunts, two pokemon can understand each other remarkably well. From what Rufio's told me, pokemon vocal communication is entirely contextual and impossible to translate. It's something they just "get".
Rufio turned to me. "Master, the Demon Lizard is angry at you for rebuffing her advances."
I sighed. "Are we really going to go through this again?"
"She said that will not continue training until the consummation."
"The what, now? What did she actually say?"
"She did not use words, but shared a mental image of her accepting your human seed in the throes of carnal pleasure."
I nearly dry-heaved. "Okay firstly ... never ever say those words again. Secondly, tell her that's not going to happen."
"The Demon Lizard is tired of waiting for you to accept."
"I'm not going to accept. I'll never accept."
"She says she will not accept your not accepting."
I hold my hands up in exasperation. "Look, I'm her trainer, Ruf. She's a pokemon. She's gotta learn that trainers and pokemon don't do ..." I gestured vaguely. "That."
"Master, I don't think you understand."
"No, I understand perfectly well. She's a salazzle, Ruf. A natural manipulator. I won't let her control me, and that bothers her."
Rufio dropped his gaze. "No, Master ... this is ... a matter of ..."
"A matter of what, Rufio?"
"A matter of human things ... things I can't speak of."
"For the last time, they're called faux pas. Just spit it out."
Rufio anxiously fidgeted with his tail. "My grasp of human words fail me. The Demon Lizard has mated me, but I am not her mate. You are her mate. Do you not see the difference?"
"I'm not her mate, Rufio!"
"But Master–"
"And this conversation is over, okay? I'm done talking about it."
Tryst grumbled something. Rufio looked to the floor. "The more you rebuff her, the harder things will be ..."
"Is ... is that a threat? Did she threaten me?"
Rufio avoided eye contact. "No."
Rufio's acting uncharacteristically flustered, and I don't know why. I tentatively sniff the air. No pheromones ... yet. I'm uncomfortable of the tension in the room, and didn't want it to escalate. "Okay, training is over. Tryst, you're done for the day. Rufio, bring in Lily and her pokeball. It's time we do some more pokeball conditioning."
"Immediately, Master." Rufio let Tryst and himself out. I went to the window and looked out, tapping my foot anxiously. Tryst retreated to her burrow in the backyard. That bothered me. I knew she was plotting something nasty, I just didn't know what.
The rest of my day was ruined. I went out with some friends, saw a movie, had a few drinks ... but the whole time, that conversation with Rufio was always lurking in the back of my mind. Even at night, when I was brushing my teeth, I couldn't stop thinking about what he meant by saying "You are her mate." That was ridiculous. Tryst couldn't just "decide" that I was her mate. Humans and pokemon don't do that! She had literally dozens of pokemon to romp with ... why did she have to choose me?
I spat out the toothpaste and looked at myself in the mirror. I'm tall, with a head full of dirty blond surfer hair, and in good shape from all the biking ... okay, maybe I could stand to lift a few weights. But I've got roguishly good looks, and can absolutely rock the 5 o'clock shadow. I'm a damn catch, alright? No wonder Tryst can't accept no for an answer!
Arceus ... maybe that's the very reason why: I told her "No." I was the only one who ever stood up to her, the only one who resisted her pheromones. I was "the one who got away", and she couldn't deal with that. Ugh ...
After some restless tossing and turning, I eventually fell asleep. But even in my dreams, Tryst would not leave me alone. She pursued me down labyrinthine hallways. Eventually I stopped trying to run. This salazzle was even more beautiful than in waking life. She had the hips of a goddess, and her beautiful tail swayed was like a beckoning finger. We embraced. Kissed. I could even feel her on my tongue. She climbed on top of me, she grinded her slit against my crotch. The usual disgust I felt in waking life was gone. All I felt was how pleasurable the dream was. Somewhere, far away, I felt my real body. My dick was rock-hard, tingling with pleasure. I concentrated on that sensation a little too much.
Then, pieces of the dream fell away, and I felt a bouncing weight on my hips. I opened my eyes. The salazzle was on top of me for real. Riding me. Having sex with me.
I thrashed like a wild tauros. Her 50-pound frame went flying. She slammed against the wall. I sat up, panting, as adrenaline flowed through me. My boxers had been pulled down. My dick was so stiff that it hurt. And it felt ... wet! Areus, I was actually inside of her! I wanted to throw up. I sat up, and-
Woah ... the whole room was spinning. And the air was saturated with her musky, sweet pheromones. The nausea I felt wasn't just from disgust! How long had that damn lizard been pumping my lungs full of her scent?
Tryst got to her feet. Growling, she climbed back up onto the mattress, her pink belly gliding along the covers. I could only see her outline in the darkness of night, and it terrified me. I bolted out of bed. The vertigo hit me hard: the room felt like a moving carousel. I stumbled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. I flipped the light switch on and winced as my vision adapted to the bright lights. I heard Tryst clawing on the other side of the door.
I yanked the shower curtain open and stepped into the shower with my boxers still on. I felt so disgusting and defiled – I had to get her dirty lizard essence off of me. I lathered up and washed my crotch.
One stroke and I let out a moan. I've never felt so sensitive in my life! Even the jets of water from the showerhead felt heavenly. It didn't take long before I was jerking instead of cleaning. My mind wandered to her, what it had felt like just before I threw her off. ...
No! Bad Riley! Stop! I pulled my hand away, and was hit hard with the urge to continue. Arceus, this was torture! I couldn't get her out of my mind!
THUMP!
The bathroom door resonated from the slam. I screamed and slipped. My arms flailed, knocking shampoo bottles off the shelves. I caught the shower curtain as I fell, ripping it off the hooks. I landed on my hip hard and groaned in pain. Water sprayed everywhere: on the floor, on my towel, on some old issues of Trainer's Digest. Another slam. And another. Then ... the doorknob jiggled, and in a flash of panic I realized I hadn't locked it. I watched, paralyzed as it turned. The bolt retracted with a click. The door creaked open. Many pokemon have trouble with doorknobs. Not this one.
Clever girl.
I got to my feet, grabbing the nearby plunger for a weapon. I raised it high in the air, shaking in my grip. "G-g-get back!" I muster.
Tryst approached, her thin lizard lips stretching wide in a triumphant grin. Her hips swung with every step, her long tail swayed to and fro. I was mesmerized by that seductive little walk of hers, those beckoning haunches ...
The salazzle hesitated when the shower's first few droplets hit her scaly skin. Of course, she's a fire type. For a moment I thought I was safe. But then she surprised me, braving the warm water for the sake of earning her prize. Tryst stepped into the shower, eyes narrowing, throat churring, teeth grinning with that oh-so-smug expression of victory. Was this really going to end like this? Was she finally going to win?
It's game over, man … game over!
I let out a tiny whimper. "Get back ... please?"
Tryst wrapped her long, slender fingers around my erection. The plunger dropped from my hands. I couldn't resist. She squeezed. My cock twitched, sending a spurt of pre through the air. It landed on her muzzle. Her long, pink tongue slithered out between her jaws and licked it up. She growled in approval at the taste. That deep, lustful growl was music to my ears ... you could hear her lust, her desire. For me. Only me.
She stood at the perfect height. Her jaws opened, that pink tongue extended, her head descended. This salazzle was going to fellate me. I didn't even need to ask. Her effeminate purple eyes looked up at me as her tongue graced the tip of my cock. She looked thoroughly enthused to have me in her grip, as if she wanted this even more than I did. She closed her lips around my tip and I basked in the powerful heat of her maw. I moaned louder than I wanted to; I almost came right then and there.
"MASTER!"
Tryst flinched. Her body lit up with a blue glow, and then she was whisked away. My head jerked up. There stood my lucario in the doorway, posed gracefully with Tryst's pokeball raised high.
"Rufio!" I screamed, equal parts elated and annoyed.
Tryst's pokeball jiggled in his paws–she clearly was not happy about the turn of events. He struggled to get a hold of it, clamping it down with his paws. "Master, are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" I yelled.
Rufio stepped back, his eyes widening. "You're ... angry with me."
"No I'm not!"
His aura-sensing stalks stiffened. "You're ... angry I interrupted you."
"Okay, yes, I am!" I blurted out. "Arceus, Rufio, you know what she can do!"
Tryst's ball popped open: the lizard forced herself out and lunged for me. Rufio pressed the button on the side, sending her back in with another flash of blue light. "You told me if the Demon Lizard ever bewitched you, that I should intervene."
"And you did a good job, okay!? I just ... need some time alone to cool off!"
Rufio didn't respond. His wide eyes zeroed in on my erection. I don't think he's ever seen me aroused before. Feeling embarrassed, I snatched up the fallen shower curtain and covered myself.
Rufio flinched. The ball in his paws was violently jumping about. "Very well." He turned to the door. But as he crossed the threshold, he paused. "Master, I am unsure if refusing her is the right thing to do."
I pursed my lips tight. "You're breathing in her pheromones, Rufio. Close the door. Get some fresh air, go back to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Rufio looked down to the floor. "Goodnight, Master. I promise she will not bother your sleep again."
Rufio left. I shut the shower off and collapsed back into the tub. My blood was pumped full of adrenaline and pheromones. My erection was still hard as a rock. I couldn't ignore it.
So I ... jerked myself off. I felt so dirty dong it, so full of shame. But I needed a release. My mind began to wander. To her. Tryst. The moment I woke up, when I was still inside of her. The little grunts she was making, how warm her vent felt around my–
Ugh, gross! My disgust and arousal clawed at each other for dominance. I tried to fantasize about anything else ... but the salazzle was always lurking in the back of my mind, forcing her way into my imagination. Eventually I gave up and let the fantasy run wild. I was so disgusted by how much I wanted her, yet ... my finish was intense. I moaned so loud I thought I'd wake the whole house. I finally collapsed and scrubbed the dirty fantasy from my mind. I was disgusted with myself. I towelled off and cleaned up the bathroom. I told myself it wasn't my fault, that it was the pheromones. I opened my bedroom windows to let in some fresh air and crawled into bed, curling up in fetal position. I felt dirty, violated, manipulated.
I woke up the next day with a cloud over my head. I did the unthinkable and ignored my morning routine. I didn't eat breakfast ... I didn't even come out of my bedroom. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but I think I was depressed. Being woken up to find a pokemon having sex with you is pretty traumatizing as it is ... but that's not what bothered me so much.
No ... I was sullen because a part of me still wanted more.
The pheromones were out of my system, right? They don't last this long, right!? But when I recalled what happened that night, I felt a lingering ... desire. My dick had gotten a taste and it wanted more. Make no mistake: the shame and disgust were still there ... but now I had this little voice nudging me, wondering what the big deal was.
Tryst even tried to fellate me! Just as a human might do. I couldn't believe it. Most girls don't give head without asking ... hell, there's been times where I'd have to beg for it (fuck you, Janice!). They treat it like a chore, or an obligation. So, to see Tryst do it so eagerly – it made me feel ... something I shouldn't.
I stayed in bed all morning bargaining with myself, wrestling with the idea of just letting the lizard win. Her pheromones would make any sex absolutely euphoric. They'd overpower any shame and disgust I'd have. But what about the aftermath? Could I look myself in the mirror ever again, knowing I had become a pokefucker?
You know what they say about pokefuckers ... they're too pathetic to get a real girlfriend. So they fuck their 'mons. They must be messed up in the head to find their pokemon attractive. It doesn't matter if that's actually true or not: people will talk anyway. If it ever became public that I boned a salazzle, I'd be shunned for the rest of my life. It would ruin my career: who'd want to entrust their pokemon to some weirdo who might fuck them?
I could even get prison time! Pokephilia is against the law in Kanto ... well, kinda. It's considered pokemon abuse, which is a felony. Case of sexual abuse between trainers and pokemon pop up in the news a few times a year, and it's always heavily demonized. The press will often say that the pokemon's mind had been cruelly warped to believe sex with their trainer is compulsory. And I'm sure that's true in some cases: sexual abuse is horrific. I've seen what shelter workers call "the thousand yard stare" that abused pokemon tend to have. It's heart-wrenching.
But nobody talks about the cases when the pokemon wants it, too. What if the pokemonis the aggressor? What if they're the one who made the first move, and they're the one won't take "No" for an answer? Nobody knew how to deal with that. It's always swept under the rug. Hell, a lot of people believe that sort of thing simply can't happen.
The longer I stayed in bed, the more I realized that I had no answers, either. Tryst clearly wanted me. It was consensual. I wasn't hurting her. So what was the problem ... aside from the mountain of disgust and shame? My moral compass was going crazy, telling me that it was wrong. But it couldn't tell me why. And to be honest, that sorta scared me.
Some pokemon ethologists suggest that sexual relationships corrupt the pokemon's perception of the trainer-pokemon dynamic. Maybe they'll start to think they're human, or that they deserve human treatment. Maybe they'll stop taking orders, or act unpredictably in battle. But that's all anyone had: just "maybes". No respectable scientist has done any real research into this sort of thing. Imagine Professor Oak gathering up his legion of interns and saying "Take these pokemon, have sex with them for a month, and record the results."
I tossed and turned in bed. No, no! I was going about this all wrong. I've watched Tryst closely, studied the way she seduced my other pokemon. Sex is never just sex with salazzles! Tryst's behavioral patterns revolve around enslaving males to do her bidding. I couldn't fall into the same trap!
... then again, would a master so willingly pleasure their slave, like Tryst attempted to do with me? Great, now I'm back on the fellatio. I don't know why I couldn't stop thinking about that. Something about that moment just seemed so out-of-place for a pokemon as selfish as Tryst. It's like she wanted to pleasure me. But why? Was seducing me some perverse game to her? If I give in, does she "win"?
It was almost noon when I heard Rufio approach from the hallway. He didn't knock, but his telepathic voice reached me through the locked door.
"Master, I have completed your morning duties for you. Everyone has been let out, fed, and allowed outside to play."
I didn't reply.
"Master, shall I let your pokemon know there will be no training today?"
Yes ... no ... I don't know. I didn't answer.
The doorknob jiggled. "Master, I have made breakfast for you. May I come in?"
Ugh ... that's the one annoying thing about lucarios: you can't hide your feelings from them. I didn't fault him for trying to cheer me up, but I couldn't find it in me to feel grateful. I sighed. "I don't need coddling, Rufio! I'm fine!"
"Do not lie to me, Master. Your aura is troubling. Why are you so upset?"
Anger burned in my cheeks. "Um, I dunno, maybe because a smelly dominatrix lizard raped me in my sleep? Arceus, Rufio, is it really that hard to figure out!?"
"But there is something else. I see it, darkening your aura. It is ... complex, turbulent. Like a swirling cloud."
"I don't need a psych evaluation, dammit! Get out of my head!"
"I promise not to tell any humans that you have fornicated with a pokemon. Your secret is safe with me."
"This isn't about shame, Rufio!" I shouted.
"Master, there is no reason for hysterics. You are safe now. The Demon Lizard can no longer torment you. I have locked her in the pokeball clamp."
I threw off my covers and sat up. "What!?" I yanked the door open. Rufio stood before me, looking defiant with snout held high. "Dammit, Ruf, I never told you to do that! How long has she been in there!?"
"Since last night."
"Arceus ..." I rushed passed him. Pokeball clamps do exactly what you think they do: they are big, heavy devices that make it impossible for a pokemon to force their ball open. They are cruel and are illegal to buy or sell, but many professional handlers still use them for containing especially unruly pokemon.
One of the golden rules of training is that you should never, ever force a pokemon to stay in their pokeball. You see, a pokemon should associate their pokeball with comfort, security, and a trainer's protection. It is their safe haven: a cozy respite from the outside world. It's okay to return a pokemon when they're acting dangerous, but they should never be "grounded" as punishment. Turn their ball into a prison and pokemon develop neuroses. Some will resent their trainer, or become depressed. Others end up with pokeball anxiety, like the ivysaur I'm working with. Poor Lily is so terrified of her ball that I have to shower her with affection and reassurance before she's calm enough to put her inside. Even after months of training, she has trouble staying in her ball for extended periods of time.
I stormed down the creaky basement stairs. Rufio followed closely. The clamp was sitting on a bench next to some musty boxes of old hiking gear. I unlocked the pressure release on the pokeball clamp and threw open the latch. Tryst immediately forced her pokeball open. The lizard lunged for Rufio as soon as she saw him. They began to fight. "Hey hey hey! Stop it!" I forced myself between the two. Tryst snarled and tried to worm her out of my grip. I shook her violently. "Cut it out! I mean it! Now Rufio, apologize to her."
My lucario audibly gasped. "But Master! She is the one who should apologize!"
I gave him a death stare. "Do it."
Rufio begrudgingly did as ordered. Tryst defiantly snorted and looked the other way.
"Now go make her some breakfast."
Rufio's clenched paws trembled, but he sunk his head in resignation. "At once, Master." He slowly ascended the stairs, his crooked tail limply swaying behind him.
I knelt down to Tryst's height and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I never told him to do that."
Tryst refused to give me eye contact.
I felt weird doing it, but I decided to hug her. "What you did last night to me was wrong. But you shouldn't be punished like that. I'm sorry."
Tryst stood awkwardly stiff in my embrace. But slowly she relaxed. A low hum started in her throat. She wrapped her arms around my chest. Her long fingers caressed my back muscles.
"See, I'm not the bad guy. I want to help you. I just–"
Wait. Tryst wasn't hugging me back. She was feeling me up.
I pushed her away. "The hell is wrong with you!?" Tryst looked back at me, her thin lips spreading in a grin. I got back to my feet, disgusted. I pointed to her pokeball still sitting in the opened clamp. "Do you want to go back inside that thing? Well, do ya?" This was a bluff, of course, but it was an important test. I needed to gauge her reaction.
Tryst showed no hint of concern at my threat. "Ra-a-a-ak!" she cried. "Grnz guu." Ignoring me, she ascended the stairs on all fours, her long tail raised deliberately. Areus, everything she had between her legs was on display. I can't believe I was actually inside that ... that scaly lizard slit! Half-way up, Tryst glanced back to see if I was staring. I was. She growled in approval and continued on.
I watched her, fuming silently. I wasn't sure if Tryst was calling my bluff, or she was trying to show me that no punishment could sway her resolve. Either way, it was clear she had zero remorse for what she did last night. And that's what really bothered me.
There's a heated debate among trainers whether empathy in pokemon is a learned from humans, or found in the wild. Some trainers point to pokemon like audino and chansey, who are naturally compassionate and selfless. But I argue that no pokemon has "true" empathy, not even lucarios. Rufio always knows when I'm feeling depressed or ashamed, but he often doesn't understand why. And then on the opposite end of the spectrum, there's pokemon like salazzle. Not only does Tryst not understand what I'm feeling, she doesn't care. All she cares about is seducing me. Whatever that means to her – whether it's about enslaving the "one who got away" or if it's just about "winning" – she's willing to see it through at any cost.
"Salazzles are the worst," I muttered, climbing the stairs. "I can't imagine people actually training these things for fun."
I returned to the kitchen to see Tryst wolfing down her pokechow. Rufio stood on a step-stool in front of the sink, washing dishes. He gave me a sideways glance.
"Master ..."
"I don't want to talk about it."
I went to the family room and sat down with a plop. "TV on. Tune to channel PWN. Volume up. Higher ... higher ... that's good."
PokeWorld News was covering a live bust of a farfetch'd poaching hideout down near Silence Bridge, south of Lavender Town. Lavender police collected dozens of caged breeder birds, along with freezers full of plucked and cut meats. Farfetch'd are critically endangered due to over-hunting; they're so rare that the meat has become a prized delicacy to the ultra-rich. Those sick bastards ... no one seems to care if the bird goes extinct!
Rufio brought me breakfast on a tray: rice porridge with honey and fried egg. Man, he really did cook me a nice breakfast this morning. Too bad it's cold now.
"Thanks, lil buddy." I gave him a pat on the head before stuffing my face.
Rufio stood awkwardly next to me. "Master, about last night ..."
I tried to pay attention to the TV. "I told you I don't want to talk about it," I said, between mouthfuls of food."
"I ... I think you should let the Demon Lizard mate you."
I sighed and put the bowl down. "TV, mute." I turned to him. "Ruf, you can't be serious."
Furio fidgeted with his tail. "Master, this game has gone on long enough. It's caused you undue stress and torment. Just accept her as your mate and move on."
"I'm not her mate, Rufio!"
"You should be."
I held a finger up. "Wait ... did she tell you to say this?"
Rufio ducked his head. "No, Master. But it is clear that she desires you. You are physically fit, your scent is attractive, and you have no mate that would get jealous. I do not see the problem."
I forced a laugh. "You don't see a problem!? Rufio, she's a pokemon!"
"Are you concerned you two cannot produce an egg?"
"What!? No!"
"Your bodies are similar enough ... you must be in the same egg group."
"She uses sex to make others her slaves, Rufio!"
"The Demon Lizard mates for pleasure, too. I know this first-hand."
"Rufio, she a monster! She used you as a footstool for an entire day."
Rufio avoided eye contact. "So she can be difficult at times ..."
I put my hands on my hips. "That's it?"
"And wicked. And honorless. And sadistic. And filthy ..."
By "filthy", Rufio meant "dirty", as in someone who plays dirty. Idioms are hard.
"But still, I see her aura. Her desire for you is obvious."
My cheeks flushed. "Enough, Rufio. We're done: I'm not having this conversation."
"You gain nothing by denying her. It will only get worse."
"I said we're done."
"I have seen your genitals. You are well-equipped to pleasure her."
"ENOUGH, RUFIO!"
Rufio shrunk back like a frightened child. I immediately regretted yelling.
"I ... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get angry." I grabbed him by the paw. "I know: you don't get why humans and pokemon can't mate. The thing about it is ..."
Rufio looked at me expectantly as I struggled to find the words. Truthfully, I didn't know where to begin.
"It's ... it's complicated, okay? It's just something that humans don't do."
"Because of shame?"
"Because ... because of a lot of reasons." I sighed. "Look, you're right about one thing: I've been hella stressed lately. But come on, we've dealt with worse pokemon with this. Remember when I took on that latios? It sent me to the hospital more than once! Tryst, she ... she just has trouble accepting the terms of the trainer-pokemon relationship. But eventually, she'll start to trust me, and-"
"Trust leads to respect; respect leads to obedience."
"Exactly. Sooner or later, she'll stop these crazy shenanigans. Just give it time." I patted him on the head. "Thanks for breakfast, lil buddy. Now go and play."
Rufio avoided eye contact. "Very well, Master."
I picked my bowl back up and finished breakfast. After that, I shaved, showered, brushed my teeth. Something about all the scrubbing and cleaning left me feeling like I had hit a reset button: by the time I was in fresh, clean clothes I noticed my mood was much better. I looked back at the foul state I was in this morning and shook my head. I couldn't believe I was actually considering letting Tryst have sex with me! Maybe the pheromones clung to my bedsheets? Can they even do that? Better wash my blankets just to be safe ...
I plopped back down on the sofa, watched TV, and tried not to think about salazzles. Not much later, I heard Tryst sneak up behind the couch. Great. She stuck her snout over the top and hissed in my ear, like a whisper. I breathed a sigh through my nose. It was time for my new strategy, and I wasn't looking forward to it.
I learned something important when Rufio locked Tryst in her ball: she was not intimidated by the harsh treatment she got. In fact, she seemed emboldened by it. I've seen this behavior in troublesome pokemon before: they've learned that any reaction was good, even a negative reaction. I knew how to deal with this: the way to beat a pokemon desperate for a reaction is to give them no reaction at all. I call it the Blind Eye technique. The Blind Eye was advanced game theory in the complex world of pokemon training … but it always works eventually.
From behind the sofa, Tryst flicked her tongue out, teasing my ear. She's done this before. It's another one of her tests. Usually I swat her snout away. But this time I didn't. Instead, I braced myself ... with the Blind Eye, things always get worse before it gets better. Tryst's tongue lingered. She churred softly in her throat, her tongue spread hot saliva across my neck. She nibbled on my earlobe just hard enough to feel pain. I flinched when she stuck the tip of her pointed tongue inside my ear. Ew, come on, Tryst ... gross!
Tryst looked at me, cocking her head in confusion. The lizard knew I should have objected by now. She sensed something was up.
Tryst continued her tests. Her tongue explored down my neck, leaving hot patches of saliva in its wake. Her slender fingers grasped at my shoulders. She stuck her long snout down my shirt, sniffing and licking my skin. My shirt bulged out as she ventured further, it's collar strained and stretched. I tensed up when her tongue reached down my belly. I was so tempted to reprimand her, but I remained still. As long as she didn't use those pheromones, I wasn't going to budge. And she wouldn't do that ... because I still had Daisy.
Tryst delved deeper under my shirt, her long slender neck working in her favor. Her sharp claws dug into the sofa as she balanced awkwardly on my shoulder. My shirt's collar reached its stretch limit, and stopped the salazzle before she could get her snout to my pants. Tryst strained, grunting as she extended her tongue down to my belt, trying to wriggle underneath.
I found it harder and harder to pay attention to the TV. The news anchors were talking about ... I dunno, something about legislation and lawmaking. I heard the words "Mewtwo experiment". After the legendary trainer Red discovered a new species of pokemon in Cerulean Cave, news spread quickly. Eventually, Dr. Fuji was to forced to admit the pokemon was not an exact clone of mew, but the result of gene-splicing experiments. Many people were rightfully shocked and appalled; I remember the protests held on the streets. Years later, there's still immense stigma associated with gene editing technology. Nobody wants another mewtwo scenario.
Tryst's tongue was desperately trying to get under my pants. I felt that muscular, worm-like intruder spreading hot saliva along my belly. Slowly, I reached down, and methodically undid my belt buckle. Tryst gasped in delight.
I tightened it one notch and tucked the belt back in. Tryst let out an angry growl, and I smiled.
"Ow!"
She pulled her jaws out of my shirt in a flash, her teeth catching and ripping out a few of my manly chest hairs in the process. Maybe that was intentional. Okay, it probably was. Bitch.
Tryst climbed over the sofa. I kept my focus on the TV. Her hands went to my pants, her eyes looking to me for a reaction. Sitting next to me, she groped me awkwardly, her slender, clawed fingers too long to sit comfortably in my crotch. I grunted in discomfort as she squeezed and fondled my manhood. "Sssssrn, razza rrssss," she whispered in my ear, as if that meant something to me. Sorry, lizard ... it'll take more than your silver tongue to get me hard.
Tryst hooked her slender fingers under my pants. Using her other hand to distract me, she gripped and tugged gently, as if trying to hide the fact she was desperate to get them off. I knew she wouldn't get past my belt. I've been wearing one every day for this very reason: Tryst hadn't yet figured out how belt buckles worked. The tugging became more obvious. Eventually she used both hands. She hopped off the sofa and pulled hard, nearly causing me to slide right off the cushion!
I slowly, calmly scooted back and said nothing. Tryst growled. Even with my eye on the TV, I saw her glaring at me with all the anger of a wild gyarados, and I almost gave myself away with a grin.
Tryst crawled over me. She straddled my lap, grunting and snorting softly. She shifted her body to get herself between my eyes and the screen. I craned my neck to see, but Tryst was adamant on keeping herself in the center of my vision. I sighed out my nose and tried my best not to make eye contact. Tryst exhaled directly on my face, and gave my freshly-shaven face a long, sensual lick. She lingered on my lips, and I pursed them tight when she tried to force them open. Gross, now I had salazzle saliva on my lips!
Tryst placed her long fingers on my shoulders and gripped me tight. Her muscular tail wormed between my thighs, spreading them so she could press her crotch against mine. I could feel my heartbeat quicken. But still I focused on the TV. Tryst licked her lips, a grin spreading on her snout. She began to rock her haunches: grinding her slit on me slowly, sensually ... she's so eager to show me what those hips do. Too bad I wasn't buying what she was selling.
"TV, volume up," I said. PWN was playing some amateur footage of another mewtwo recently spotted on Cinnabar Island. It's scary to think that nobody knows how many specimens were made. Blurry and dimly-lit, the gray-skinned pokemon moved so quick that it was only clearly visible for a few frames. Ugh, mewtwo gave me the heebie-jeebies. What's with that fleshy tube thing coming out the back of its head? Some people claim mewtwo looks so different from mew because part of its genome came from human DNA. Who would do that sort of thing?
... of course, it's hard to concentrate on the TV when I have a salazzle that's also keen on mixing human and pokemon DNA.
Tryst dry humped me at a slow, steady rhythm, causing the sofa springs to gently squeak. She certainly was working herself up: the lizard's breathing was getting husky. She huffed hot air in my face and licked my neck with slow, lingering laps. Bump, grind, bump ... Tryst worked those hips as salaciously as a salazzle could. Ugh ... the crotch of my pants were starting to feel a little tight: I hated to admit the constant grinding pressure on my dick was starting to get to me. Remember, Riley, she's a pokemon: you don't want her scaly lizard slit!
Phew, even thinking those words were enough to cool me off.
"Rern gzl, grzzz ..." Tryst murmured. She rubbed her snout against my neck. Maybe she was talking dirty to me. I didn't want to know. I couldn't believe that my life had reached a point where I had a horny lizard pokemon giving me a crazed lap dance like a coked-up stripper ... and all I wanted to do was watch TV.
Tryst flipped herself around. She scooted back and lifted her haunches, putting her bright pink slit on display. I couldn't not look at it. Her arousal had caused her vulva to puff outward, as if it were opening to accept a visitor. I could see the tip her clit nestled just inside. Ugh, it was gross. Makes me wonder how the hell actual pokefuckers find their pokemon's junk attractive. I mean, seriously: have you ever seen an arcanine's dick? That monsterous, veiny rocketship-shaped dong, all covered in yucky-looking spiderweb veins … disgusting! How could anyone find that hot?
Her muscular tail slipped around my neck and tightened like a noose. Uh-oh.
I barely had time to turn my cheek before she slammed her crotch into my face. I sputtered and tensed up, fighting the urge to throw her off. Growling, Tryst grinded her slit on my cheek. Her labial scales gilded against my skin. The smell of her musk was so thick that I wanted to retch. My fingers gripped the sofa cushion tight. Her tail pressed the back of my head into her, keeping me buried between her legs. Soft little grunts escaped her throat as she navigated her crotch to align with my lips. Arceus, I could feel her moisture spreading on my cheek! I actually gagged. Hold steady, Riley ... she's bound to give up sooner or later.
Somewhere in my mind, as Tryst brazenly grinded on my face, I began to get thoughts I shouldn't. I couldn't deny this would have been hot if Tryst was human. I've never met a girl that was so desperate for my dick that she'd do something like this. Damn, if I ever met someone that'd grind my face like this, I'd-
No no no no! Stop it, Riley! Scaly lizard slit, scaly lizard slit! Cool yourself off: pay attention to the TV, what's going on? I couldn't see anything except hot pink salazzle butt ...yet I still had my ears. PWN was on a commercial break. I heard glitzy techno music and the voice of Brock, Pewter City's Gym Leader. He was advertising Pewter Crunchies ... never was a fan of those things: they absolutely wreck your teeth. I wondered how much Gym Leaders got paid to endorse products. As Tryst's tail tightened around my neck, I listened to every single commercial, focused on the words, repeated them in my mind. It was the only way I could stay sane with salazzle puss mashed against my face.
My phone buzzed. I got a text. I fished my phone out of my pocket and managed to look at the screen. It was one of my drinking buddies. We do board games every weekend.
"Yo. Carly got the nite off. Bout 2 do a booz run. U in 4 game nite?"
As calmly as I could (with a horny pokemon grinding on my face), I managed to type out a "No." and put the phone down.
I got a response. "Wyd?"
I picked the phone back up. Any distraction was better than no distraction. "This salazzle is giving me trouble. Maybe tomorrow?"
I counted the seconds, ignoring the salazzle slit on my face until I got a reply. "LOL. Dun let her fuck u. You could get pokerus ;-P~~"
"Humans can't get pokerus."
"U dunno for sure. Unless ... you tried already. LOL"
"STFU. You know I'm better than that."
Tryst's tail finally relaxed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She pulled her haunches away and I was grossed out to feel a rush of air evaporate the moisture on my cheek.
"Yea yea ... ok Mr master trainer. c u tmrrw?"
Tryst snatched my phone away before I could respond. She threw it across the room with a growl. The lizard plopped down on my lap and puffed out an exasperated breath through her nose. I put my eyes back on the TV, but even though the corner of my vision, I saw Tryst was not happy. She stared at me in a mixture of confusion and frustration, her mind trying to work out what was going on.
I think that's when the lightbulb went off in her mind: the damn lizard finally realized that I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. She nudged me once. Then again, harder. I could see the nasty plot forming in her perverted pokemon brain. Tryst leaned in. She caressed my cheek with her long fingers. She pulled back, and–
SLAP!
"Ow!" I grabbed my stinging cheek. "Hey!"
Tryst reared her hand back for a double slap. I caught it and held firm. "No." I said. Even the Blind Eye technique has limits, of course. She pulled back her other hand. I caught that one, too. I held onto both her wrists as she tried to pull away.
SLAP!
I flinched in surprise. The damn lizard got me with her tail!
Tryst cackled out a laugh. She drew her tail back for another slap. I shoved her off of me, harder than I should. Her noggin hit the coffee table with a thunk. Oops. Tryst shook her head as she stood up. She smoldered with anger. I mean, literally: the acrid smoke puffed out from her nostrils. I could see it in her eyes that the lizard had had enough. She was done playing games. Tryst squatted down. Her tail raised–
And that was my threshold.
I've gotten keen on telling when Tryst is about to use her pheromones: she'll stick her butt in the air, raise her tail over her head, and start to wiggle her hips. I grabbed her by the tail before the pheromones spread. "Don't you dare."
Tryst squirmed in my grip. I needed my secret weapon. I scooped Tryst up by the armpits, causing her to yelp in surprise. "RU-FI-O!" I yelled.
"Yes, Master!"
Tryst hissed and kicked in the air as Rufio came running into the house. He was monitoring our auras from afar, just like he always does. He tossed me Daisy's pokeball. I dropped Tryst and caught it with one hand like an Ace. Hell yeah.
I shoved the ball in Tryst's face. "You try the smoke, you get the 'poke. Got it?"
Tryst snarled. She raked her claws down my extended arm. I recoiled, screaming in pain. Arceus, she drew blood! Clutching my bleeding arm, let Daisy out of her pokeball and retreated to the far side of the room. The slowpoke appeared in a blinding blue flash.
"Daisy, disable!"
Tryst pounced, knocking me to the floor as the slowpoke focused her powers. A pulse washed over Tryst as she drew her arm back ...
And ...
And she couldn't figure out what was supposed to happen next.
I smirked. Damn, I loved that move! I shoved the bewildered salazzle off of me and stood up. "Attack me again and I'll have her hose you with a water gun. Now get out!"
Tryst stamped the carpet and hissed. She gnashed her teeth as tongues of fire curled out from her jaws. And I calmly sat back down, basking in her childish outburst like some sick sadist. Oh yeah, baby ... eat that humble pie, eat it right up.
Tryst turned tail and skittered out of the room, deliberately knocking over everything between her and the back door. My breakfast platter fell to the carpet, dirty side down. Magazines went flying with a swish of her tail. She slapped Daisy in the face with her tail, kicked over the kitchen stool. Aluminum food bowls clattered to the ground. Finally, she threw the back door open with a grunt and dashed outside ... leaving the door wide open (again!). I watched her tantrum with pride and satisfaction. The Blind Eye technique finally worked!
Rufio rushed to my aid, bringing a potion and a towel. Thanking him, I wiped the blood off my arm and sprayed myself. I winced as the stinging aerosol hit my arm. It won't cause me to heal as quick as pokemon do, but still ... it helps. I kept pressure on the wound as Rufio began dabbing the carpet with a wet sponge. "Master, what did you do to the Demon Lizard?"
I smirked. "I gave her the Blind Eye treatment. She didn't like that."
Rufio closed his eyes. His aura-sensing stalks quivered. And then, the lucario showed a rare smile. "You did well."
I kicked my legs up on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. "I know."
It was a hard fight, but what can I say? The better player won.
Now, as far as my friends are concerned, this is where the story ends: with Tryst sulking in defeat, and me basking in my well-earned victory. That's all anyone will ever hear. But if you're reading this, you probably know better. Because it's not like I posted this story just anywhere on the internet: I posted it here. On a website where pokephiles gather. A place where I could safely get my confession out. A place where I wouldn't be judged.
I know it's been a long read, but believe me, we're just getting started. Because if there's one thing I've learned about salazzles, it's that they can't stand not getting their way.
THE END
