Forbidden Waters – 8

"So tight… damn girl… surprised it fit in there at all."

"Vap Vaporeon!"

"Hold still now, I'll be gentle."

A wrinkly old doctor with leathery skin, cloaked in an Alolan print tee under his white coat, and a face roughly the shape of a potato, patted Vaporeon on the head in a friendly manner. He slowly lifted an old-school rotary saw with plastic parts that have faded with time as if he was being filmed for a surrealist horror shoot. The motor of the saw cracked to life as Vaporeon's head fins folded behind her head in distress. She deliriously looked up to Emil who was there soothing her with his hand sliding down along the curve of her spine.

"He won't hurt anyone. Right?" Emil asked in the way one does when making a semi-dark joke in polite company.

The old codger adjusted the motorized stainless steel examination table and lowered his arms towards her cast as if he hadn't heard a thing Emil just said.

"Um, right?"

"Vapeee?"

"Huh?" he said as the saw blade slowly ground through the outer shell, blasting the front of his coat with a spray of powdered plaster cast.

"Not gonna hurt anyone, right!?" Emil had raised his voice as the saw was screaming between them.

"Huh?! Oh, ain't nicked no-mon in weeks, son. These hands still got it son, yeah, smooth as pecha pie, mmmhmmm, yessir," he promulgated as the saw slowly ground out a 2mm gap.

Vaporeon and Emil both swallowed their concern down like dry bread.

The saw cut through little well-wishes, people's names signed in cursive, prison tally marks, and a dozen splotchy hearts painted on in polka dots by a feral Smeargle that had gotten a little too close the day prior.

"Oh, shit!" the doctor screamed and Vaporeon squeaked in terror. Her eyes practically popped out of her skull as her vision zoomed in on the site where he had been cutting.

Emil's heart jumped. Then his face screwed up into a dry scowl as the doctor bent over himself and slapped his knee.

"Haaaahahaha. G'lord some of you softie trainers act like your mon are porcelain dolls. Couldn't hurt her with this pewny thing even if I wanted to. Nah, your Vaporeon is hard as they come, boy." He slapped her on the rear and she squeaked again with a blush. "You promise she didn't work out with it on? That leg looks," he pinched his gnarled old hands together and closed his beady little eyes in approval, "Fit as a fiddle, mhmm."

Emil breathed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, I'm sorry but I can't make that promise."

The doctor waved his free hand around in a wild dismissive flurry, "Bah, dun matter anyway, good luck keeping any self respecting mon still for that long. Tell Stanley's boy that he's fired for me anyways."

Emil chuckled. "Of course, Doctor."

He reached in and pulled the cast apart with the narrow ends of his fat-knuckled fingers like a chimpanzee prying open a stubborn fruit. The cracking sound of it giving way was music to Vaporeon's ears and she smiled as she finally could feel a draft along her choked-out flesh. Like a newborn mon breaking out of its shell, gasping their first living breath, raw and sensitive to the elements. The flesh where the cast had been was a big patch of slightly lighter blue wrapping around the entire leg, almost as if it had left a tan line.

However, despite the pale appearance, Vaporeon hopped off the table, wiggled her paw pads and stretched out her claws, and then kicked the air so hard the two men in the room jumped as her digits snapped in the air like a bullwhip. She squeaked in delight at the sense of freedom, then stomped her newly recovered leg into the floor and growled triumphantly at the world. Her paw shattered the neatly arranged hatch-patterned tile where it fell, throwing dust all around the beige-walled examination room

"Case, meet point!" the Doctor said, unphased at the sudden remodeling of the League examination room floor.

Emil bowed and ruffled his hair in frustration. "Gah! I'm sorry sir, Team Stone will pay for this."

The doctor cackled so loud he nearly lost his dentures. "Keep yer pocketbook to yerself, kid. JOY!"

A couple of hushed female voices clucked in the background then, suddenly, an overworked-looking pink haired lady poked her head into the room. She nervously evaluated the room before piping up. "Yes, Doctor?"

"File a property repair claim. Also, mark Richard Stone's Vaporeon as fit for battle first chance you get. I hear you got a match to make it to, young lady."

Vaporeon looked up at the old man with a glow of mischievous determination. "Va. Po. Re. On!"

"Right away. Glad to hear Vaporeon is in good health." Joy chirped, clearly a little bit empty of true emotion, but full just enough to justify her existence. "Doctor, I hate stealing you away, but there's a… challenging situation in room 134"

His brow furrowed and his bottom lip pursed in frustration. "What kind'a-"

Joy nodded, interrupting him before he could start prattling. "Garbador trapped in a compactor, sir."

"Whorin Hoppips! Drag my ass outta here next time! Fucking pod people, swear to Arceus."

The doctor dashed out of the room with the nurse, leaving the two of them alone for the briefest of moments. Emil looked into Vaporeon's eyes as her tail caressed his leg seductively. Her throat rumbled so forcefully with her purrs that he could feel her vibrating all the way up to his neck. She subtly licked her jowls and winked at him as she hummed in approval.

Her body language made his heart pound in anticipation, but there was still work yet to be done.

Emil and Vaporeon walked out of the infirmary doors side by side, gazing into each other's eyes, back out into the spotlight where they played the part of pet and master for the world. A familiar arena greeted them. In fact it was the very same Mauville Battle Center where her leg had been shattered. Eighty feet from where she walked there remained a patch in the concrete yet to be smoothed over to match the rest of the floor. A grim receipt for the cost of her carelessness.

She pranced out and the crowd cheered as the megascreen cameras hanging from the ceiling zoomed in and showed her off for those in the cheap seats. Then the screens played little animations of sick Eevee's with thermometers in their mouths jumping up and giving exaggerated thumbs up as they seemed to feel better.

"Wasting no time AT ALL! Vaporeon, just minutes after being approved for return to battle readiness. Looks like she's broken out of the Distortion Realm and she's thirsting for some BLOOD!" The announcer said over the boom mics, eliciting roars from the front-seaters. "Trainers, Pokemon, Loyal League Guests, let's hope for battles even half as tense as last time that eeveelution splashed up on stage!"

Vaporeon perched up next to Richard not with a look of obedience but the regal gaze of a queen patiently awaiting the words of her war council to uncover which of her many wretched enemies she must personally crush into a fine powder.

Richard grinned with a barely contained team-spirit and threw off his sunglasses. "Yeah, yeah yeah yeaaaah!" he hollered out. "Vaporeon. I choose you. We're gonna prove that the bench is just another workout on Team Stone!"

He couldn't see his opponent beyond the voracious hunger for victory that hung in the air like a thick fog. What did it matter to him who was on the other side of that line, anyway? Whoever it was that dragged their sorry Pokemon out today was gonna have them handed back wrapped in butcher's twine. Figuratively, of course. Accidents did happen in their sport, but honest-to-Arceus League Battle fatalities got you painted with a mark of infamy, not real glory.

She nodded and marched up to a circle painted in the floor on their side of the arena, curling her tail around her haunches as she awaited her partner.

Incineroar appeared in a flash of red light right on the second circle. Her paws confidently wrapped around her hips and she roared out to the crowd with a flourish as fire danced in her fur. She had again arrived to entertain her people.

The two of them then looked each other in the eyes in anger, glared back at Richard in disgust, and then they huffed and turned their heads away from each other. Incineroar blew contemptuous smoke past her pearly razor-sharp teeth on one side of her mouth and Vaporeon's tail snapped in the air.

"{Ready to work for a living again, princess?}" Incineroar chuckled in her sultry feline voice, smirking with a cool smile.

Vaporeon smiled back as her tail cracked in the air behind her. "{Long as you enjoyed the spotlight in my absence.}"

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From the flickering screen of a poorly maintained laptop, held by a haggard unkempt tawny sasquatch of a man hiding behind a massive pair of boulders, Vaporeon and Incineroar could be seen squaring up against a Plusle and Minun. The duets danced in circles as they probed each other for weaknesses in their formations, dodging flashy ranged attack moves from each other like a ballet performed in a fireworks display.

He fidgeted with his boots, tightened a green canvas belt around his dirt-crusted cargo pants, and clenched his jaw as his brain was practically on fire with emotion. The rich tan skin of his body was shirtless and exposed to the elements, sweating under the duress of the scorching midday sun and whatever punishing ritual he was putting himself and the rest of the gym rats through. Camouflaged in a bush of messy brown hair his eyes hid behind a pair of aviator sunglasses and then shot up from the screen, computer now perched up on a rock, to inspect his surroundings.

He looked upon a field of struggling bodies, all smashing the steel, the stone, and the ground.

"Thirty minute break, lolos!" he shouted, then pointed a muscled arm at a nervous looking youngster in a tank top that held a shovel out in the open with his Geodude in a field of boulders. "Everyone 'cept you. Get diggin' braddah, I seen ya hidin' from me all morning!"

"Mahalo!" the lot of them shouted in unison. All except the one single youngster and his Geodude who were left digging a single solitary hole in the earth while all the others watched.

His attention snapped back to the screen. Instinctively his hands fussed around his pockets for a cigarette, like a chipmunk ruffling its fur at a standstill. As soon as it met his lips a stealthily concealed Salazzle's tail slithered around his body, sparking the deathstick to life. Behind a haze of tobacco smoke his eyes shot back and forth as he tried to analyze the match from a display that randomly devolved into glitchy pixelated soup.

"Straight outta medical and is like she never sat down," he mumbled to himself, leaning down over the screen.

Around a hunk of freshly split granite waddled an Alolan Raticate with narrow cheeks barely hiding a pair of gold-coated incisors. A jagged scar ran across its right eye, long sealed shut beneath a cake of old scar tissue, and its tail noticeably ended in an abrupt nub about halfway down. It jumped up onto his shoulder and croaked quietly in a way that his trainer knew was relaxation and focus.

Vaporeon and Incineroar, though both clearly despising each other, danced around the pair of electric rats. The two of them managed to surround the enemy and then they disappeared into an explosion of steam generated by Vaporeon's water being super-heated by Incineroar's flamethrower. He leaned forward even more, letting his shades fall down and stumble precariously at the tip of his nose.

"That trainer is barely talkin' at all, damn. Damn damn, nice nice nice!" he hissed as he picked up the laptop and sat cross legged, allowing himself to be completely engrossed in a battle for the first time in a long long while. All of his students peeked around the rocks to see what he was up to, shrugged and thanked all things good and wonderful that they got a break for once. On the screen Vaporeon jumped back and forth into the mist, her and Incineroar pouncing in and out of it with flashy blasts of orange flame and steam fighting off a swarm of Pikachu and Emolga that the opposing trainer brought in reserve.

The two of them danced like enemy spies devoted to murdering one another, but the script of the play they were in demanded they embrace and tango for the crowd. The two knew each other's weaknesses, every little quirk of their fighting styles laid in the back of each other's minds, and they let each other get pushed to the very edge of being overtaken by the enemy before each rescued the other as a way to remind the bitch that this brief truce would end soon enough.

His tired eyes glanced down at the roster and read the name. Team Stone- Lead Trainer: Richard Stone, Assistant Trainer: Emilio Malison

"Hmph, spoiled brat…. workun with ah total rando though? C'mon, Papa Stone, ya can shell out for better help than that!" he said and then snuck a swig from a stainless steel flask hidden in one of the many pockets in his cargo pants.

Vaporeon zipped in and out of the cloud of scalding hot steam, gaining momentum like a sliver of steel being threaded back and forth on magnetic rails. He nodded and blew a thick cloud of rancid smoke against the struggling display. "Thas it, yeah. No mistakin' it, nice nice nice! Compliments to the chef."

Vaporeon didn't take a single scratch. Hardly a show at all, barely an iota of concern made it onto her gorgeous azure cheeks. After all, a lone pack of chu's gets smoked easy unless your name is Red of Pallet. But his attention was on the trainers now. What was it with that look? That wild insatiable hunger gazing out into the shining lights.

"Ye, ah know that look," he said pensively, like he was watching himself so many years ago.

The audio of the match was about half as good as the video, but the message could have been heard loud and clear on every cup on a string within a hundred mile radius. "No challenge! C'mon, someone, please! Someone with the chops to keep me awake! We're gonna end up slow-walking to the elite four at this rate! Quit coming at me with this kiddie rock-badge crap!"

Ace's calm smile slowly bent into a disappointed frown. "Folks with a lots ta lose shouldn't go throwun stones. Sasuke, 'mere!"

The young man who was left digging alone dropped his shovel in a two foot deep pit and almost tripped over on his way out of the hole. "Yes, Gym Leader?"

"Izzat the guy you and them been squawking about on Razzbery?"

He nodded and nearly lost his balance as his Geodude levitated to him and then dropped down into his arms. "Yeah, that's Richard Stone. He's undefeated and there's a lot of people saying he's got a real shot at champion in Hoenn soon. May even skip champion and qualify for global masters if he's lucky."

Their leader reached around his head and bunched his untidy locks into a poofy man-bun as he took a long painful drag of his cigarette, burning it down to the nub. He blew a final plume of smoke from his lips like an angry volcano as he looked upward into the sweltering sky with his coffee colored eyes.

"Gyms closed!" he shouted to everyone and this time they didn't cheer.

"Everything alright, Gym Leader?" asked a muscle bound woman with a Conkeldurr behind her doing curls with a pair of gargantuan cast iron weights hanging from ship ropes.

"Been sittn' 'round here gettn' spongy too long, Sistah. Is about time ah brought somethin' shiny home for ol Brock. As-uh now yer in charge."

"Ah'll be back in three months."

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Emil's arms were full of victorious self-satisfied fish. Parts of her blue skin still showed signs of electrical burning, but they were clearing up as he lathered potion infused oils all over her body. Vaporeon snuggled into him like a drunk, purring again at his delicate touch, guiding his hands around her flanks and up along her shoulders. A nice sample of what was to come, she thought as she wrapped herself around Emil's shoulders like a row of shimmering, freshly polished turquoise beads.

"I had no idea you could boogie like that, Incineroar!" Richard poked her furry shoulder. "Maybe we should make you and Vapee play nice more often."

Richard was then lost in a gout of smoke like a toddler standing by the exhaust of an old tractor. Incineroar rolled her eyes and scoffed. "{Just don't!}"

Vaporeon brought her mouth up to Emil's ear as he finished her medicine bath. "Ready?" Her voice was tired from battle and not entirely smooth, but her vocabulary had grown significantly as she spent her nights doing flashcard drills in-between bouts of kissing and intimate petting. Emil could understand what she told him most of the time in her native tongue, and for those rare moments when he was being an idiot she could muddle through with a little bit of practiced human speech. Even when she struggled with the process, she was happy just nesting with Emil and getting to know his many strange little intricacies.

Emil's face was deepening in color as his heart raced again and her tail wrapped around his arm and refused to let him go. "Rich, we good here?"

Incineroar's gaze locked on Emil again, eyebrow raising. This wasn't normal cuddling; what did this human have that Richard didn't? It sure wasn't biceps, at least Richard could bench worth a damn, she thought as the claws on her feet tapped with suspicion.

Richard gave him a thumbs up as he patted Incineroar along. "Collecting winnings then I'm on the first plane outta here. You go ahead. I'm not a walking computer like you but I can count, long as I got all my fingers."

"Say hi to your naan for me," he mumbled and, just like his own words in the wind, Emil vanished to nothingness.

One thing Richard wished he could learn from the nerd was how to be a social ninja. The crowds were starting to feel like bunions on his feet. Always there and nothing you could do about them once they showed up. He always could rely on his partners, though. His big fiery kitty loved putting on her little fire shows and that always got the crowd off him for a bit.

He got a moment with nobody looking in his direction and decided to stand in line for his winnings. Crowds weren't allowed in that area because it always made it a pain in the ass for the League workers when the shutter bugs came waiting for whoever won it big. He breathed a sigh of relief and then jumped as he heard a familiar voice sneak into his space.

"Good job, Son." Richard's father said to him with his hand placed gently on his shoulder. "Little showy and risky, but putting Vaporeon in right out of medical and winning with a type disadvantage is the kind of show that keeps the sponsors calling."

Richard sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Glad it worked out that way, pops. Sometimes I don't think about that stuff, y'know. It's like there's a spirit in me that wakes up when a battle is going on, and it doesn't care much for optics."

Stanley Stone chuckled understandingly and slapped his son's back again. "I know. Don't worry yourself too much about it. It comes with age, son."

There was a long pause, very awkward, but his father didn't leave and so Richard cleared his throat and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Nice lead in. What sorta bad news you gonna drop on me?"

Stanley laughed, genuine laughter this time, and folded his arms proudly. "You've earned a little frankness. Got me on the back foot today. So, you know about your Aunt."

Richard nodded, understanding his words but not understanding their meaning just yet.

"Yea, hard to forget her. Only got one."

His father bobbed his head up and down as he spoke. "Yes, yes. Well, her daughter..."

Richard shook his head. Now he understood. "...went Primeape-shit at Silph HQ and had a quarter-life crisis in front of the news?"

"Ah, you know about all that."

"I got Razzberry dad, it went everywhere."

Stanley looked left and right nervously. "Was it really that bad?"

"Like a rotten Wailord bursting on the beach."

Stanley leaned in and placed his hand on Richard's shoulder. "Well, she's decided she'd like to take up Pokemon League battling like you have. Any chance you-"

Richard started shaking his head, smiling uncontrollably. "No."

Stanley looked completely dejected, and visibly deflated so much that it was unclear whether he was being genuine or sarcastic. "I promised I'd ask. I'll let you tell her. Seriously though, son, it doesn't need to be official. All you'd need to do is offer her some guidance and a good model for her to follow. I know this is a one and a half trainer outfit and I don't want to change that. Might just give you a little time to remember what it was like training weak mon, some of the stuff you're putting your team through is getting out of hand."

Richard's head flew back and he groaned. "Whyyyyyy are you still asking me so nicely after I said no like an asshole, dad?"

He nodded as he smiled. "It is my right as asshole head of household."

He groaned like a teen being told not to smoke his playboy magazines in the house, and threw his head so far back his words flew out of his mouth like candy from a pez-dispenser. "Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine! I never win when you're playing, whatever. I'm going to tell her it's definitely not official and that I definitely don't like it. When?"

Stanley shrugged his shoulders. "Last I heard she's getting herself packed. I'm sure they'll be putting her on a plane, so let's go with a hearty 'sometime soon."

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Emil's eyes scanned the parking lot and counted the cameras of the League battle arena's parking garage. The area was lit by an arrangement of flickering halogen lights that stained the area a mustard yellow but he could still make everything out: one 270 degree 1080p Feebas lens at the corner, one discount-dollar brand webcam at the parking entrance, and one in the elevator with the resolution of a fossilized potato. Then he turned his head, squinted at a slowly rusting red sedan with expired plates and a thick film of dust all over its entire body parked in a totally different corner. The windows were perfectly clear of filth. One hidden, unknown quality.

He stepped between a pair of concrete pillars as he marched to his vehicle where the cameras couldn't see, stopped for a moment to trade kisses with his clandestine lover, and then continued on as if nothing had happened at all.

"I know you're excited," he said, looking at her and his surroundings in a way Vaporeon hadn't entirely seen before in him. He looked like someone who was the hero in his own story for once, surveying like he was keeping watch for something to catch instead of the moment he should bolt for his den. "I am too. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to pick up a few things for us before we settled in," he whispered as he emphasized settling with a disgustingly sweet snuggle.

She squeaked happily and leapt off his shoulders, crossed the gear shift, and stretched out onto the side seat as he entered himself. Whatever Emmi had in store, she was certain it was worth the extra little wait.

"You really should use that harness, sweetie," he said as he dutifully buckled in, like a catholic making the cross against his chest without thinking.

She smirked and waved her paw. "Eeeeeon, eeeon."

Emil breathed in deeply and then exhaled. He'd had many moments like this. Moments where he needed to decide whether it was the right decision to be a rule follower or to be a rebel. He didn't choose rebel very often, and it usually was when the rebellion was small enough to be ignored by basically everyone. Vaporeon had taken hits in just her training alone that put some car crashes to shame, and if she ever did get hit while crossing the street the offending vehicle would have been much more likely to suffer the worst of it than she was. So today, just today, he decided to loosen his grip on the wheel and shrug it off as he turned on the car and checked out of the parking garage at a League kiosk using a red and white identification card he kept in his wallet.

It wasn't lost on him that it felt nice to be able to park somewhere where he didn't have to fight for the right to turn the engine off. Even his paltry salary compared to whatever Richard was getting came with a lot when he accounted for all the big League benefits granted to them by entering the Ultra League semi-finals. It was nice to feel convenience for once in his life.

"Practice time. If it's too hard give me two 'Vaps' I'll pull over," he said once they got on the road and tossed his Dexnav to the passenger side as it buzzed with notifications.

She snatched it out of the air with her mouth and pawed the device open with a dignified expression. "No hard," she quipped.

"NOT." Emil said and flinched as she sprayed water against his cheek

"N-augh-t hard," she corrected herself, spitting on the sharp consonants, and sighed as Emil chuckled like a gremlin.

She enjoyed taking over for Emmi on his dexnav more than she let on. She had a tough time understanding everything but she had figured out most of the lay-person functions and could carry on a simple conversation as long as it stayed stiff and formal. It gave her a glimpse into the outside world. While Emil did something that totally absorbed his attention she would tip and tap away on Fly-Porygon-Fly, some clunky open-source third-party mobile browser he liked, soaking up bits of news and taking part in Emil's slowly blossoming social life.

4-483-267-8663 (Richard): Hey Em, so I dunno if I've talked about it much but I've got this cousin who's been getting passed around the family. I think she might be our problem for a while, just letting you know. Dad says she'll be here in a couple days.

Vaporeon's head bobbed up and down as she held the device up with her tail fin like a desk, brushed a fin away behind her head like a lock of fresh curls, and tapped at the keys with her perfectly manicured claws as if she was Emil's very own sexy little secretary. She hummed and cleared her throat as she prepared the most authentic and believable Emilio Malison impression the world had ever seen.

1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Ok.

Nodding in approval she pressed send and then switched over to FPF. She started soaking up an article about 'The Iono-sphere', a documentary about the rise and fall from grace by Iono's own children, and then jumped as the Dexnav buzzed again.

Strange, she thought, the 'Hard OK' always shut people up. Well, what was it the meat-head wanted this time, then?

4-483-267-8663 (Richard): On my way to the airport now. You two nerds be good. No starting any brothels 'til I get back.

What was a brothel? Ah well, it was irrelevant. True farewells were in order! She breathed deep, clacked away, and nodded happily as she crafted yet another masterwork of Em-personation; one which accounted for each and every silken-tongued thread that made up her Emmi's infinitely-complex socioeconomic web of life.

1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Bye.

She tilted her head, shaking it in disapproval, but then perked up and smiled in satisfaction as she was hit with a rush of inspiration at the last possible moment.

1-218-860-5045 (Emil): Don't die!

Perfect. Her Emmi always made sure to let his friends know how much he cared. Finally she could toss it over her shoulder like a petty agrarian curse. "Bye bye, Reeechahrd." She fumbled with the difficult unnatural sounds.

Emil chuckled at the bratty display as his hands absentmindedly passed across each other, turning his steering wheel left, then right, then left again. "Close your eyes," Emil said playfully.

Vaporeon smiled coolly and let her eyelids sag. They often played with each other like this when he took her places. He liked to make her guess in human-speech where he had taken her before he'd let her open her eyes at the new surroundings.

She stood and lifted up her tummy to easily allow Emil to loop his arm around her. She breathed only a few lonely gasps of winter air before he curled her up and stuffed her into his poofy black work coat, letting her head peek out from the half zipped collar as she wrapped her tail around him for support. She brushed her rear end against his very erect member and then she wiggled and chirped in contentment. So began their little game.

The sounds of cars gasping for air in the cold, foul gasoline fumes hanging in the air longer than normal, gut wrenching fast food somewhere that-a-way, hasty patches of freshly melted tar in the asphalt. Oh, wait, she thought, was that smell a car wash? The smell of purified water, trickling sounds all around, the hum of little motors. He'd better not be taking her to a car wash.

The sound of commercial automatic doors sliding open, the clamoring symphony of checkout line beeps and boops and cash-out chimes, the dry but still toasty-warm air-conditioned environment. She heard metal and glass and bamboo chimes, more water trickling, singing bowls, and the sound of scrawny middle-aged naturalists scratching at their graying neckbeards. Then she was hit by it, that wall of exquisite aromas striking her like a concrete wall that always made her glow with excitement. He walked further and further in the store. She knew exactly where she was, but she treasured this silly little activity and she wasn't about to let it end too soon.

"No guesses yet?" Emil feigned with surprise in his voice.

She shook her head as she let her nose guide them, then pointed left as Emil reached the end of an isle. "Eonee Vaeepee {That way,}" she murmured as her petite little nostrils flared in and out in excitement.

"Vap!" she shouted and Emil stopped mid-stride like a soldier called to halt.

"Nnnn," she bit her lip. "Nnnaaaarrrrr"

Emil smiled and hugged his arms around her in his coat supportively. "You got this," he cooed as he suspiciously looked left and right and up and down.

She huffed as she rolled her tongue around in her mouth. "Narrrrrrseeeesus!"

He pulled her out of his coat and kissed her on the lips. "Correct! Narcissus, hehe. I promised it was worth the stop."

She trilled in delight, smooched him back, and hopped out of his arms. Like a well-to-do suburban wife let loose with the credit-card she confidently trotted her way over to a loose stack of wicker baskets, ready to acquire a heap of pointless luxuries to spend all his money on. She beheld a sea of salts, salves, and sauna bombs on their left and a nasal cacophony of infinitely assorted candles, colognes, incense, waxes, perfumes, and even flavored prophylactics on her right. The ceiling had been framed up with a glistening-green cobweb of babbling streams, bamboo pipes, and brilliant little sculptures that showcased the native artistry of any and all regions a curious person could possibly want to know about. To Emil, whose brain was forged with a core of pure practicality, this place was a menagerie of metaphysical nonsense, but he did have to admit that the fountains and the art somehow managed to impress upon him something new each time he looked. They discovered the place when Vaporeon had once dragged him inside under the duress of a lost bet and it suddenly became her favorite place in the entire city.

Emil smiled and wandered the isles patiently as his mate got right on with the task of demolishing their budget. In a dusty neglected corner, hanging displays proudly exhibited the many expensive and old-fashioned mirrors they still somehow had for sale. A mummy of a native Hoenn man wrapped in a white-collar shirt laid to rest at the register. Beside that was the long glass row of cases protecting troves of sterling silver jewelry, and a magical looking pseudo-religious landscape of geo-minerals in all shapes, sizes, and sorts. Behind that counter was a lithe bodied, deeply sun-tanned, ambiguously aged hippie rocking Hoppip flip-flops and dye-dye socks sitting atop a mound of furs and hides. By some miracle this man must have managed to elude Emil's astute gaze the last ten times he came into that little shop, because even surrounded by other equally crunchy beatniks you didn't just forget a dude sporting genuine first-edition Periwinkle-Power Hop-n-Flops.™

"Hey man, you, like, look familiar," he said as he wove his fingers together in his lap.

Emil chuckled nervously. "You probably get that a lot more than I do, haha."

The guy laughed like a rusty harmonica for a full eight-and-a-half painful seconds. "Nah, man. I'm a zit on the universe compared to you. I can see you're in for a really long time, though."

Emil's eyes anxiously wobbled back and forth between Vaporeon littering her basket with product and the shop-keep. "Oh? Um, I'm not so good with divination talk. What exactly does that mean?"

He pursed his lower lip like a strip of bacon curling in a pan. "Not really sure, visions come and go like that. They're like librarians, man; always hiding what you're lookin' for behind a bunch'a boring old work. And I mix with work about as well as vinegar does with milk. Can say for sure, though, it's gonna be a real long time for you, brother."

Emil's heart started to race and his skin started clamming up with sweat as his paranoia engines fired on all cylinders.

The guy rested his head on a bony liver spotted wrist. "Lovely little vee you got there. Real special, real important yep. Oh, hey. I just got something in that might interest a man with a really pretty lady like that. Let me see, I think it was in my fourth front pocket."

Emil's paranoia stopped and dropped dead like a lead anchor as his eyes rolled in his head so hard he probably blew a few candles out somewhere on the other side of the store.

"Noooo, not...Aaahah! Right where the owner says they should be displayed, typical," he chattered, frantically unlocking the case for a rotating display of pendants and chains that sparkled like a classic American miniature Christmas tree wrapped in crappy bloom effects.

Emil waved his hand in rhythm with his shaking head. "Nah, don't worry. It's good."

He reached into the case and fumbled out a simple looking quartz prism pendant with glowing pinks and minty greens. At least this one glowed, Emil thought to himself in jest.

"Ya sure? Real special stuff, helps with communication issues and-"

"Daaaaviiid, woah now, daddio," a scratchy voice came from under the pile of fur blankets, forcing itself into their thoughts. A few of the hides flopped over and what emerged was a haggard excuse of a Ralts clothed in a frilled leather poncho covered in henna tattoos and cryptic scripted body paint. It involuntarily yawned with the plague of ever-present exhaustion.

"Gnocchi!? Whassup, my man?"

"Ey GNOCCHI!" someone else hollered from across the store.

Gnocchi erected his arms, lazily levitating limp body into the air as well as a random hand towel and a cigarette butt for good measure. He snatched the pendant out of his co-worker's hands and wagged his little white appendage like a disappointed father. "That's not his journey, man. Gotta be careful with this stuff." He spoke psychically, projecting the words directly onto their landscapes of understanding. Emil hated the way it felt, like he had thoughts that weren't his own forced down his throat, but the alternatives sometimes weren't available for older mon so he put up with it.

"It ain't?! Ah man, one sec," David mumbled. Then he reached into one of his socks and twisted apart some tangled artifact that maybe once resembled half-moon reading glasses. He set them at the very end of his nose and squinted at Emil with intense scrutiny. "Aw jeez, Gnocchi. Yer always comin' 'round and saving my keester. Sorry Mr. E, no can do on that."

The Ralts shook his head and fell back onto a pile of blankets. He gazed up at the ceiling and then fell asleep mentally way before his body managed to catch up with him.

Vaporeon grunted as she dragged a bulging wicker basket into view. "Done, Emmi!" She smiled in surprise and waved to the Ralts who was probably busy melting into the corner, "Noki!"

Dave nodded. "You were a Meloetta in a past life, I bet. See, ya didn't need it anyway; everything'll be fine, I'm sure."

Emil hefted the basked up onto the counter, captured a few escapee bath-bombs that attempted to roll off the edge, and adjusted his glasses as he slid a 'Narcissus' Mirrors and Mysteries' scented-candle punch-card across the counter. "Alright, ring me up."

Dave coughed out in a fit of laughter like he'd just had the funniest joke in the universe slam dunked directly into his chasmally open mind.

"Dude, of all the people in the room to do MATH with, you picked ME? Get outta here, man. Jenna'll take your money." He paused and cleared his throat. "Just thought I'd warn you," he said and then threw an exaggerated scowl across the store at a platinum-blonde lady with sunglasses and chewing gum dressed in regular old street clothes that had a dye-dye store smock copy-pasted to them as she manned the front cash register. She blew a massive pink bubble. Pop. Then she flipped him the bird in salute. Her vacant hung-over gaze went totally undisturbed.

Emil was so flabbergasted by the ordeal that he didn't even flinch as 6345 was charged right to his highest-interest credit balances. A trivial price to pay to get him back to a state of predictability.

He breathed out his distress in the car as the passenger side loaded up with vain self-satisfied fish, and a big reusable paper bag containing the spoils of her conquest. Dodged a bullet, Emil thought. He had no interest at all in getting sucked up in some dopey 'hero's journey' by some wise old master today; for once in his life his mind was out to lunch, on sabbatical, gone fishing.

He grabbed one of the bombs and breathed deeply now that most of the competing aromas had vanished from the air. It was fresh with hints of richness, like minty chocolate ice cream. He grabbed one thing or another out of her bunches and all of them were earthy, minty, fresh, smooth, and rich like caramel. All very similar to each other.

"This really must be your favorite type, huh? It smells like..." he paused to focus as he took a longer whiff.

She used both her paws to rescue a cute sample-sized candle from his fingertips and kissed him on the cheek. "You!" she squeaked and carefully started packing up her things for their final trip.

Emil looked away for a moment, trying desperately to hide the glistening slivers of liquid forming in the corners of his eyes. She smiled mischievously and laid across his chest, bringing her eyes up to his. She knew she'd managed to poke at her man's soft widdle inside feelings again, and she loved the way he fidgeted in that state. He wiped his face with the cuff of his jacket, ran his finger along her cheek, and gazed into her eyes. And then he thought about how fortunate it was that he'd tinted his car's windows already as he suddenly realized that he had lost control of himself and locked lips with Vaporeon right there, out in the open, and he wasn't letting her go.

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Jun rolled off the freeway into a greasy gas station painted in ads for junk-food and energy supplements, squinting at the rest of the road with tired eyes. The last year hadn't treated her well. Her hair was unkempt, the expensive hybrid car she'd been driving since her sixteenth birthday was falling into disrepair, and these days her life looked like she had kids without any of the benefits or the fun involved. She'd replaced her designer contact lenses with an unflattering pair of bottom shelf spectacles. She wore a comfy turtleneck sweater that had holes all over at the edges.

She reached into her jeans for a pair of factory reject Pokeballs sold for cheap online and broke one open with an ear splitting pop and a squeaky hinge. A fluffy winter-coated ball of Eevee-shaped goodness appeared beside her, chirping in delight. His hind end was bound up in a chassis of Velcro fabrics and ultralight metals supporting two rugged looking wheels in chrome and cherry red paint. Regardless of his condition, his tail wagged in excitement, knocking a crumpled soda-can down onto the cabin floor.

"Ready, Frankie?!" She said, ruffling his cheeks and pressing her forehead against his.

Frankie puffed out his chest and nuzzled her back. "Veee!""

"Morning, Jimmy!" She asked, peeking through the rear view mirror at a nervous looking Machop lying asleep in the back seat.

He groaned, shifted up in his seat, and tried to give her a hearty double thumbs-up as a threadbare quilted blanket slid away from his shoulders revealing that one of his arms had been amputated just below the shoulder. He had a homely looking plush cap slipped over the nub of his arm, seemingly hand-knitted with his name and the design of a boxing glove worked into the fabric.

"We're gonna show everyone we got what it takes to make it this time," she said, channeling the energy of her anime heroine stereotype ancestors, and very nearly forgot the entire reason she got off the interstate in the first place. Frankie pawed at his momma's lap, stopping her from absentmindedly driving off without filling the gas tank. Again.

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Emil gripped his steering wheel in embarrassment beneath the meddling gaze of a sweaty patrol officer in a sun-bleached tan uniform through his open driver-side window. He stared off into the endless expanse of snowy freeway as he waited for a citation from the public servant who was clearly overworked, underpaid, and probably conscious of the fact he was being actively replaced by a clone being grown in a basement somewhere.

Vaporeon, now safely bundled in with her seatbelt harness, spat angrily and squeaked at the officer in defiance. "Vap vapee, vaporeon eeeonee VAP EEEE ON! {You're ruining the BEST DAY EVER!}"

"Sorry officer, won't happen again…" Emil said, blushing furiously at his mate's behavior.

The cop nodded and poked a stick of chewing gum between his jaws as he handed Emilio a yellow copy from a pinched index finger and thumb. "And carry your licenses with you, son!"

Vaporeon pounded the car seat with her paw. "Emmi, vapo nee ve aaponeeonee! {Emmi, ask for a complaint form!}" A short-stacked Lucario female in a similarly worn out uniform giggled furiously at the scene she had just seen unfolding, trying desperately to contain herself like a professional mon should.

"Will do, sir," Emil said, continuing to stare down the road in the hopes that his misery would end sooner.

"Prick," She growled angrily when he rolled up the window and shook her fins some more.

The officer and his partner entered their vehicle, allowing Emil to drive off first. Then they took off after them and stayed two car-lengths behind at the same exact speed. After a good ten minutes passed, he looked over at Vaporeon.

"I told you we needed to buckle up."

She grumbled and adjusted the grills of her AC outlet to warm up as his Dexnav buzzed and Vaporeon let it just keep on a'buzzing.

Emil's eyes peeked over at her as he drove at ten times his normal level of caution. Why wasn't that policeman turning off somewhere? C'mon, go find a J-walker with lunch money to steal or something, he grumbled in his head. "Honey, could you answer the phone." He wasn't about to touch that thing while an angry cop was right behind him.

She rolled her eyes and clawed his Dexnav open, activating the touch screen with a lazy bap.

1-285-900-4545: Hiiii there! Richie gave me this number. Emilio, right?

Vaporeon squinted and batted it shut. Nope, she thought. No more interruptions.

Also, who calls a meathead like that 'Richie?' Ugh!

The police officer, for some arcane bureaucratic reason, had decided to follow the two of them all the way home. She could see the insane wheels spinning in his head trying to unravel the machiavellian plot that was targeting them, so as soon as the car stopped moving Vaporeon kicked the buckle loose and leapt back up onto Emil's shoulders, pressed her tail against his groin, and stuck her tongue out at the officer as he drove way. Stop thinking, Emmi, she thought.

Emil carried everything, and everyone, out of the vehicle in a single trip. Then, just as soon as the front door clicked shut, Emil let the paper bags drop to the ground and spray their contents all over the carpet as Vaporeon crawled her way into his arms, wrapped her tail around his neck, and locked her muzzle onto his lips. Then she pushed her feline tongue into his mouth without resistance. He could feel her purring deep in his chest and her claws scratched at him through his winter jacket. She flicked the buzzing dexnav onto the couch with little regard for its eventual resting place.

He was drunk from the love in his sapphire chalice. Her hind claws bucked and bit at his jacket zipper, haphazardly trying to peel away all the layers between them. The coat sagged down to the floor in a discarded heap and then he fell back into the couch with her attached to him like a memory foam neck pillow. His mobile device was instantly buried deep within the couch where only the bravest of souls dared venture for sparest of change.

She giggled and squeaked in his grasp, pushing her body against him in ways that signaled her consent for him to go further. She pulled their lips apart and then guided him with his chin along to her neck. He sucked and nibbled her there against her neck frill and she purred in delight, signaling her satisfaction through the rumbling on his tongue.

A few minutes passed with Emil slowly working his clothes away from his body as she encouraged him to explore hers with his face. At least she tried to do that. But eventually impatience won out and she snagged his glasses away from his nose with the end of her muzzle and spat them onto the carpet, teasing his bare torso after he slipped his t-shirt off.

[THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]

" watch?v=MKwjyoqnCBQ ," played muffled beneath the cushions.

That was the notification sound for Richard's security system. Emmi, no!

He fished into the couch and she woke up looking around frantically, trying to figure out why the hell her soft unmentionables had stopped feeling like heaven on earth. She squeaked and nibbled Emil's neck, trying to get him back to doing the erotic things again, but the damage to the mood had been done. He was already putting those layers back on over his flesh that she'd worked oh-so hard to take off.

She moaned in frustration as he set her down off the couch and she zoomed around frantically tugging at his pant legs with her mouth as she fought to contain her libido and to form words that could express her frustration.

"Um, who the hell is that?" There his wheels went turning again. Damn it, she thought.

Vaporeon huffed and leapt onto Emil's shoulders as he threw his on his coat, wrapping her tail around his neck like she was tying a leash to a disobedient pet. "Eeeooonnnn!" she scowled in disappointment. She sighed as they walked through the tinted sliding glass door and across the training yard as her cheeks blushed like peaches with the pent up pressure.

Jun, Frankie, and Jimmy had already walked up to the front of the Castle, leaving two pairs of footsteps and one set of tire marks and paw prints in the snow starting from a totally worn-out upper class car.

Richard always had a lot more than she did, she was reminded of that especially in that moment. He was the family favorite after all, carrying the Stone battle legacy into the future. But she also remembered that he was a kind-hearted boy when they played, and surmised that maybe he wasn't the typical derisive lot that the rest of their family had turned into.

"RICHIE!" she shouted as she swung her arms around the first person that opened the door like a pair of bola thrown to catch a Girafarig, confident that she was wrapping her cousin up in a sinfully affectionate hug.

"Um… Hi…" Emilio huffed anxiously as he suddenly was wrapped both by his secret degenerate love and a random lady he'd never seen before, trying very hard to hide the raging boner in his trousers.

She blinked a few times, loosened her grip, and peeked up at the much thinner man with much longer hair and much darker eyes. A man that stood like an enigma barely attached to the world he was in. Her heart fluttered a little as she realized she might have pressed her boobs against his chest just now. She blushed a little more realizing she didn't mind that thought so much.

As soon as Vaporeon's brain re-calibrated and realized what was going on she gurgled and hissed in disapproval. "Vap, Vap vap," she barked at her.

"Oh…" she huffed as well, blushing and removing herself from him immediately as Vaporeon hissed at her from his shoulders. "Hi, is um… Richard around?" She stopped herself and touched her chest in anguish. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you, hehehe. I just-"

Emil peeked around her at her mon, trying very hard to find anything to keep his mind off of how awkward every fiber of his being felt. "It's aight, I get that a lot around here. Who are these two?"

Jun danced a little on the doorstep, nearly slipping on a patch of ice, presenting them with gusto. "This is Franklin!" She gestured to the Eevee who wheeled up to Emil with a face so cute it cured cancer.

Vaporeon sniffed at him and her brow quirked. "{You smell familiar,}" she said to the little one, still processing what she was seeing attached to his behind.

"{And you smell really really nice today! I never met you before, I don't think. It's nice to meet you now, though. You're really pretty, miss Vaporeon!}"

Franklin rubbed his face against Emil's hand and Vaporeon decided to rub his cheeks with her tail as well. He was being so polite, after all.

Then she tightened her grip on Emil's throat as she beheld Jun's other showcase.

"And this is Jimmy!" she moved out of the way of the Machop who had hidden behind her.

"Ghhk. Vapee," Emil gasped as she stared the one armed wonder down.

Jimmy was paralyzed as if he'd been hit by a particularly potent thunder-shock. Her eyes were like a hungry predator, but one that never leapt out of the bushes and just watched you, feeding off your fear.

Jun perked up as Emil backed away fighting with Vaporeon to loosen her grip, happy to finally be getting her and her babies out of the cold. She tried to set her tired blue eyes onto Emil's, but his attention was still fixed to her mon.

"I'm not trying to be insensitive, but is there a theme I'm missing?" he asked, pointing to Jimmy and still scratching Frankie's curled up back.

She giggled. "Oh, yea. I guess you might not know. I'm devoted to helping make the lives of differently-abled mon better!"

Emil nodded. "I didn't realize the League had a special-needs-circuit."

She hopped up cheerily, breasts bouncing with delight. "They don't!"

Emil blinked at her while Vaporeon still kept Jimmy trapped in her visual web. "{You, me, tomorrow,}" she barked at him.

Jimmy swallowed.

Emil, with a little more sass than he normally showed, leaned against his own hip and rubbed Vaporeon's cheek. She nipped at his fingers and he shook his hand painfully in response. "You're telling me you're wanting to compete in BIG LEAGUE PROPER with a team of disabled mon?"

She nodded. "Differently-abled."

Vaporeon smacked him on the back of the head with a free paw.

"Ow! Right, sorry… So, is there something in the water where the Stones grow up, or...?"

She tilted her head, partially offended but mostly confused. "Huh?"

Emil shook his head and laughed. "You and Richard are gonna get along great, is what I'm trying to say. N-not that you didn't already. Hehe." He stumbled over himself, trying to find out when it was appropriate for him to vanish again. "Look, I'm not so good with introductions. Here's the house key. 'Nuestro castillo es su castilla."

Her skin blossomed like a cherry at his suddenly perfect Paldean accent, and held her hand out to stop him. Vaporeon snarled and hissed again as this female started touching her Emmi again. "You must be Emil. I'm Jun. Nice to meet you."

He nodded. "Pleasures all mine, miss. If you need anything, I'm sure we've got it laying around somewhere."

Vaporeon waved at Jimmy and nodded as they parted ways, making a 'call me' gesture.

Both Jun and Jimmy swallowed.

As the lovebirds left across the snowy back lawn towards his home, both Jimmy and Jun stood flustered and twitterpated like horny high-schoolers smitten with a curse of lust. Franklin wobbled around a bit then snuggled up in front of one of the natural gas fireplaces, happy for a warm dry place curl up on momma with his wheels off.

Meanwhile, the sliding door clicked shut and the blinds unfurled. Finally, finally she could have her Emmi. Vaporeon hopped along beside him and curled her tail around his ankle, gently guiding him back to the living room. He wandered where she roamed, chuckling lightly as she hummed in approval. They nicked a 'Cascade Mountain' bath bomb from the pile of goods spread out on the floor, started running the jetted tub, and carried a burning incense around the room to light a constellation of romantically arranged candles. Some ambiance would set the mood again, she thought. No harm done.

[THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]

Then the doorbell rang.

The two of them stared dumbfounded at each other for a full minute. Then the doorbell rang again and she began to growl. It started as a low rumble but as the bell rang again and again her temperamental simmer transformed into a rolling pissed-off boil.

Emil moved to get up from the couch but she shoved him back down. "NO! MINE!" she barked, snapped her paw, and pointed back at the couch with a stiffened jaw.

Emil slumped back down into the couch, not sure what Vaporeon was about to do but far more concerned about what she might do to him if he failed to plant his ass right where she decreed.

She grabbed a heaped up blanket on the floor with her teeth and tossed it over Emil. She grumbled and growled as she approached the front door, leapt onto the door handle, and turned it with her front paws to discover just who it was that was going to regret their life choices that day.

Jun stood on his front step, feeling much less impressed with his abode than her cousin's but smiled in a neighborly way all the same. She looked around, peeking her head inside, and found the house to be totally unoccupied despite the inviting aroma and the many lovely candles flickering about.

She scratched her head in confusion. What the?

"Vaporeon!" the queen of the house chirped happily, wagging her tail.

Jun looked down, grinned, and waved in return. "Oh, hi Vaporeon! Can I speak to Emilio?"

She shook her head, still giving Jun that same big dopey smile. She stood up on her hind legs, holding her arms out for Jun to pick her up. "Vapee?"

Jun bubbled up and plucked Vaporeon out of the doorway. "Of course, honey."

Vaporeon tapped Jun's cheek, and pointed to where the doorbell was installed in the siding by the door-frame. "Oh, ok," Jun mumbled, moving towards the doorbell. "I'm pretty sure I did-"

Jun squeaked in surprise as Vaporeon lunged forward, snarling and spitting, and grabbed onto the doorbell's aluminum housing with her teeth. She wrestled her head too and fro and then threw her head back in a mighty tug that yanked the doorbell and its component wiring out of the wall like a noxious weed.

Vaporeon leapt back down, spat the ruined doorbell into the bushes, and walked back through the doorway. Jun watched Vaporeon wave at her in a surreal polite display, whipped around, kicked the door shut, and turned the lock with the tips of her tail fins.

Now she would take what was rightfully hers.

Emil peeked out from underneath the blanket he had been commanded to hide under. Was he going to have to answer for that later? He hoped not, although he supposed there were worse things to be sorry for. He stood up and opened his arms for her, ready to warm her up for the third time.

She swept his feet out from under him with her tail and then he hit the carpet with a meaty thud. "Mine!" Vaporeon barked as she nipped an nibbled at the hem of his pants. She tugged hard, yanking him away from the couch as he shouted in what was very real-sounding distress

Emil struggled to get up but she just tugged harder to knock him back down as he was dragged down the tiny hallway to his own bedroom. His chest felt like it was going to explode as his heart tried escaping through his rib-cage. She launched him onto the bedroom floor, kicked the door shut, and jammed the door shut with a nearby stool.

He frantically started climbing onto the bed frame. If she wanted it here, might as well-

-'stay on the fucking floor' he supposed as she slammed into his shoulder and pushed him to the ground along the side of the bed.

She leapt onto his hips, licked his tummy, nibbled at his skin some more like an nervous animal that itched all over. She was DRY, she thought as pangs of anxiety started creeping into her psyche. How could a water type be DRY at a time like this? Unbelievable! All the disruptions had cooled her own jets it seemed and that made her incredibly frustrated. Emil had done everything right like he always tried to, she'd just emerged victorious from an important battle, she got to go to her favorite shop, he touched and spoke to her in all the right ways and she WANTED him. But her body was going against her commands. Arceus, damnit!

Improvise, Vaporeon, improvise. She knew how much he loved her smell, so she would give it to him. She'd give it all to him.

[THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]

All hail the queen.

"Oh geez!" he gasped as their mouths parted with a wet smack. Like someone unzipping a costume she ran her claw down the side of his pants and neatly tore them to shreds as she ripped them away from his body with her mouth. "Oh, oh geez," he said as her tail loosened up and his leg was assaulted with pins and needles from the blood rushing back.

She nibbled and fussed at his pants like she was working out a knotted bit of fur from someone's hide. "MY Emmi," she whispered into his ear and then she took a massive bite out of a section of his leather belt, spitting the brown sopping chunk across the room. She ripped his underwear off, snapping the elastic band with nary a thought, and then nuzzled Emil's exposed chest with a gentle but serious expression of desire. Then she turned around atop his hips, squatted down, and exposed her dripping sex for her lover to abuse.

No. More. Interruptions.

[THIS SECTION HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THIS VERSION OF THE STORY SEE A03 OR INKBUNNY FOR UNCENSORED]

He looked around at the shreds of clothing, the turned over furniture, the gashes in the wood, the marks all over his body, and both their bodies now slimy with each other's secretions. He then considered everything he'd done up to that point and sighed as he pulled her back into his chest with his arms in a cage around her.

Only then did he notice the hot bath water flooding in from the bathroom, into the hallway, and now under the crack of the bedroom door and touching his toes.

"Fuck."