(Here is the next chapter. Goes without saying, but this chapter contains mature content. Discretion is advised.)
Sandra
I visited the Hau'oli PokéPalace one evening, after my husband and Amis had gone to sleep. They go to bed early. It seems with the hot, humid weather that life carries along at an anemic pace, lethargy heavy in the air. After living here for so long, Alola was beginning to disgust me.
But that opinion changed when I arrived at the PokéPalace after 10 minutes of walking in the humid darkness. There was something…light about it. It wasn't that it was air-conditioned—all the buildings were air-conditioned.
It couldn't have been the décor either. The walls, both inside and outside, were exposed concrete with cracks and stains all along the surface. The window frames were chipped, the glass shattered and taped and painted black to conceal the inside.
The lobby inside wasn't much better. A single dim lamp lit the room, a faded woven rug concealing the dirty concrete floor. Even though I was on the ground floor, there was a certain dampness about the room that made it feel like was in the basement. I had fallen into the underworld. I shuddered a little. But that's all.
Inside the lobby, there was a man sitting at a desk—the manager of the place. He was looking at his computer, pretending to do something official. Even an idiot would notice that he was pleasuring himself to whatever was on his screen.
"Excuse me?" I said. He ignored me.
I found a bell on the front desk. I tried ringing it, but was bunged up with rust, and didn't make much of a sound: just krrrrk. With each passing hour, the air-conditioned room felt colder.
"Can I help ya, miss?" The man finally said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
I insisted that I know his name—as was the Alolan custom—and then introduced myself as Sandra.
He finally looked at me. "None of yer damn business, Sandy."
"It's Sandra."
"Whatever. Now what the hell do you want?"
I was almost tempted to leave right there and then. I shudder to think how empty my life would me if had made that fatal decision. By some miracle, I was compelled to stay. Now I think back, there was something at the dimly lit lobby, within the walls, within the dim light. It was glowing. Something was glowing.
I closed my eyes to see if I was hallucinating. Heat was flowing into my heart. I looked at the man at the desk. He was 40ish, fat, and with a comb over. Am I really getting that desperate? C'mon Sandra! But I definitely wasn't attracted to the man. Not him.
"I want…company," I finally said. "A pokémon."
"Oh. I see." He sighed, and started to take me more seriously. "Who d'you want?" He shoved a laminated list in front of my face, with pictures.
The warmth inside me became infuriating as it remained unsatiated. "No, no," I shoved the laminated paper back into the man's face, and looked towards the hallway that led to the rooms.
"Hey, miss, you can't go in there! Hey! Come back here! I'm running a business, ya little bitch!"
I raced down the hall and towards the unlit stairwell, the moonlight filtering through a window. I could hear the footsteps of the man behind me, stepping on the hard concrete floor. I panicked. I dashed up those stairs, as fast as I could. I just remembered thinking that man was evil. That man was evil.
Man was evil.
Kindness emanated from the only door at the top of the stairs, at the third floor. I opened the door. The energy I craved flowed through the knob into my hand. It was something that I would always remember in the times to come.
Inside the room was the sylveon. In the red-light darkness of the room, it was glowing, its luscious bright pink body sitting casually on the mattress. It had this big smile across his face as it bounded past the bed, on the floor, around the room. My eyes followed, but I did not move. I could not move anymore. I had completed my journey, and reached my destination. He was the one.
When it finally stood still and lay on the bed tummy up—still smiling—I realized the sylveon was a male. Despite his pink fur and colorful ribbons, he was very much a male—enormously so. In fact so much so that he didn't bother to be ashamed of his effeminate appearance. He was light, carefree, innocent. It was my boy! My baby boy had returned to me after it departed from my son's body so long ago.
The man finally caught up with me. "Miss, you better get out of my property or else—"
"I want the sylveon." I pointed at the pokémon. "It looks cute."
"Ya sure? Not many of our customers want that pouf."
My stomach cringed when I heard the insult. It made me want to punch the man. The wedding ring on my finger was enough to starch his eye out—oh. That's when I realized. I quickly took off my wedding ring and threw it on the mattress.
The sylveon curiously examined the ring. The shiny blue jewel on it seemed to fascinate him. It matched his sparkling eyes. The way the light dazzled about the facets, he seemed to think it was a living thing; he even tried to pounce at it. He scooped it up cautiously with one of his ribbons and tried biting at it with the fangs in his mouth. Of course, the gem was too hard and the sylveon couldn't make any scratches in it.
Surprisingly, I didn't even flinch. It almost made me want to laugh, actually, seeing the sylveon turn my wedding ring into nothing more than a chewable commodity.
"See what the sylveon does?" The manager pointed out to me. "It likes to mess with people's stuff. Acts too silly. That's why our customers don't like it."
"I'll…I'll try him out…nonetheless," I said, appeasing the man.
"Okay. Suit yerself. That'll be P30000 for two hours."
"Done." I rummaged into my purse.
"Mmmm…!" The sylveon suddenly cried, eyeing my purse. There were a couple of fruit candies inside that fell out. He unabashedly bit straight into the hard center, without even removing the wrapper. He looked up and smiled at me, his mouth lined with bits of crusted colored sugar.
The man was surprised when I actually handed him the cash. Seeming to have finally given in to the customer, the man put his hands up and shut the door behind us. We were alone now.
I looked into the sylveon's big, soulful aquamarine eyes. "You're beautiful," I managed to say, tears lining my eyes. "You remind me of the son I used to have." That was why there were the tears.
His smile turned wider. He let out a little high-pitched squeal: "Mmm!" It echoed in the cold concrete walls of the room.
"Are you ready?" I asked him.
"Mmm!" He smiled.
Sylveon
What do you do when you have sex?
I put this [points to genitalia] inside my client. I fuck them. That's what Master calls it. It's supposed to feel nice. It does feel nice. That's why I'm supposed to do it.
Why do you have sex?
Because Master tells me to.
[presents photo] Is this man Master?
[nods head] Yes, that's him. He's really chubby, doesn't have much hair on his head.
Do you understand what sex is supposed to be for?
Yeah. It's like a product you're selling. Like candy or food. If your customer likes it, they come back to buy more. The lady liked my product, so she kept coming back to see me.
Do you understand that sex is for making children?
No. You're wrong. I came from inside the little dark room. Then the light comes on, and the people come and test us, to make sure we're okay before we're allowed to step on earth. That's how everyone is born. That's how the lady's son must have arrived to her.
How do you tell someone that you don't want to have sex with them?
Ha, that's funny! [giggles] I don't tell them no, that's stupid. It's like refusing to serve a customer. It's discrimination. That makes me bad if I say no. It makes me bad, like a human.
How long have you been working with clients?
As long as I can remember. You mean that's not what everyone else does?
Have you ever looked outside your window?
Yeah. I see humans with pokémon by their side. I see pokémon do battle with each other.
Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be with them?
Used to be all the time. That's why I was happy when the lady…Sandra…broke me out of that building one night. The air is so nice outside. In the sky there were little points of light, and then a big circle of light…the moon. I saw some humans with these red and white balls. What are they called, you told me before…?
Pokeballs.
Yeah. They suck you up into this little chamber. It's a really uncomfortable feeling. Have you experienced it before?
No, I haven't.
Oh. Anyway I saw a lot of humans with those…pokeballs…in their hands. There was one guy with his brionne. The brionne had just evolved, and the human was yelling at him: "Damn it, you little pussy! You look like a pouf!" And then he hit the brionne, until he bled.
I thought the brionne looked so strong, so capable. Before he evolved he was trying to master his water gun. I've never used my attacks before, except to pleasure a customer. Why are looks so important to humans? Why do they care so much?
Then when Master came out looking for me, he used a pokeball to suck me back in. It felt really bad. Master was angry at me. Because he was angry, he used that pokeball. I could see through the red clear plastic. The human with the brionne was still there. He kept hitting his pokémon.
What's your first memory?
Darkness. It's really dark. And then there was a really bright light, I guess that must be when I was born. I was born at the building where you found me. A lot of humans were looking at me. Touching me. Taking pictures of me. They were judging whether I was worthy of being born. Master was there. I remember Master shouting at me. I was being naughty.
Why were you being naughty?
I was still a baby sylveon. I stole the ring on his finger. The one that a lot of humans wear. I started chewing at it. Master got mad. Really mad. He didn't beat me—that's bad for business.
Who beats you?
[turns serious] Customers…sometimes they say they enjoy beating me. It gives them pleasure. I get bruises from those customers. But the lady isn't like that, I swear! The lady never ever beat me.
Christine
You can't take the things that the pokémon say at face value. The casualness that the pokémon victims of the PokéPalace speak of their suffering is almost frightening, and makes you question the horrors they must have experienced relative to that.
Investigating Team Rocket and Team Skull's records, we know that the sylveon working at the PokéPalace was taken from the wild as an eevee—probably as an infant, as he did not seem to remember any details of his capture in the interview.
Sylveon are especially rare and desirable pokémon for sexual partners due to their innocent, childlike appearance and demeanor. He was likely given a certain "shortcut" chemical that would induce a desired eeveelution: chemicals which are banned and often cause horrible side effects for the pokémon. These include muscle aches, inability to use attacks, and lack of mental concentration for a few weeks as the pokémon is forced to adapt to its new foreign, unfamiliar body.
After inoculation, the pokémon are placed in pokeballs and transported through a clandestine network of portable pokémon transporters, practically immune to any of our wiretapping efforts against it.
The purchasers directly receive their orders using a portable transporter device. The trade of pokémon at brothels is seasonal. Many pokémon do not survive more than 5 years, and either die due to disease and abuse, or are simply euthanized for a decline in virility or attractiveness. (The sylveon at the PokéPalace, for comparison, was only at the brothel for 2 years before we seized the place.)
The brothel owner sells their dead pokémon for furs and organ trade (an entirely different subject of discussion which is not my specialty), and purchases a shipment of fresh pokémon at their sexual peak.
The new arrivals are placed in a dark, windowless concrete holding cell. (At the PokéPalace, we found such a room at the basement.) One by one, they go into the cell, where they are inspected for cuts/bruises, their genitalia are measured, and their sexual performance is timed. Appropriate photos are taken. For example, here is the inspection report of the sylveon upon arrival, which we seized from the PokéPalace:
Sylveon. Arrived May 14. Male. 51lbs. In good health, jolly nature.
Physical defects: Small irregularity in muscle of right leg (see figure 1). No other existing cosmetic injuries or defects. 9/10.
Physical traits: Average size. 35.2 inches tall, 41.1 inches from head to tail. Blue eyes. Light pink/cream fur. Ribbons with blue tips (sensitive when pulled). 9/10.
Reaction to pain: sensitive. Loud screech when needle inserted, entered psychological shock with patch test of hydrochloric acid. Was compelled to cry with pinching of sensitive areas. Not to be considered against it, for is good indication of sexual performance. 7/10.
Voice: high-pitched, light. Was compelled to sing—good singing voice. 10/10.
Sexual aptitude: 8 inches. Light pinkish color. Average time: 12 minutes, 31 seconds. Rest period of about 50 minutes to one hour. Below average. 8/10.
Overall aptitude: 9/10. Excellent candidate for human use, despite lower than average sexual performance.
The report speaks for itself, I should hope. After the assessment, conditions do not improve very much. The pokémon in the brothels are not paid—not that this is a bad thing on its own, as pokémon have little use for money. The pokémon are instead allotted food by their human owners. Although the profits are often more than adequate to feed each of their pokémon well, it goes without saying the brothel owners did not use much of their wealth towards the well-being of the pokémon.
Typical food served to the pokémon at the PokéPalace, for example, is a small dish of barley gruel and a multivitamin—only because malnutrition harms their trade. And of the course, the pokémon are not in a position to complain. This makes a pokémon brothel an extremely lucrative profession—even if illegal.
Sylveon
What kind of things does the lady make you do?
She used her hands on me at first. I think she was a little scared [giggles]. But eventually we started having sex. She'd visit me…maybe two or three times a week. Late at night. I don't last very long, about ten or fifteen minutes, but the lady was kind to me. One time a female customer beat me because I didn't make her climax.
I usually manage about two times every session, but I have to rest for an hour in between. The lady…Sandra…was very understanding. I would sit, she would give me sweets and pet my fur, and say that she just liked…being with me.
Do you use your attacks?
On all my clients. Disarming voice helps calm down the tense customers. The lady liked me to do that. She told me I have a beautiful singing voice. Do you think so? [sings a few lines]
Yes, that was beautiful.
[smiles] Aww, thanks. Sometimes if the customer gets too feisty, I use draining kiss on them, it has a kind of sedative effect. Helps me control them so they don't do things that hurt me.
Has the lady ever done something that you didn't want to do?
Well, yeah. One thing. She always liked to play with my ribbons. They're very warm and sensitive, so a lot of clients like me to touch their body with it. But the lady would get greedy in the heat of the moment, and she would tug at them so I would touch her even more. It hurts. A lot.
I tried telling her "Stop! That hurts!" But I don't think she understood what I said, she would just chuckle every time I made a noise. No one understands me. But the lady was nice. She was the human that understood me the best.
Christine
When we began our investigation, our most important question was whether a pokémon is capable of consenting to a sexual relationship. Standards had not been established at the time, so we had to create our own—the blind building the castle that was law, so it seemed.
Some of us believed that consent was based on pokémon species. For example, some pokémon can at least understand basic human speech, and could conceivably understand the meaning between the sound "yes" and "no". But few, if any pokémon, are capable of producing human speech due to the unfavorable structure of their vocal cords and tongue.
In the case of Sandra and sylveon, we deemed the relationship to be nonconsensual, constituting sexual abuse of a pokémon in the first degree.
(To be continued. Thank you for reading, and I welcome your comments/criticism.)