Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum.

"Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

Manifesto'd Destiny 2 by Kelvin's Choice

        Wow! That's all I could think. I'd made jokes about fucking a Widow, this isn't what I meant, but I was equally uncertain I was gonna live through this. Although in this case BOY would I die happy. The only reason MILF Angel hadn't succeeded in actually fucking my brains out, was with my nose mashed in her cleavage and my ears squeezed against my head by her breasts, there was no way for it to get out.

        I'd guessed that DILF Angel was near falling, but I'd not suspected that MILF was too. The desperation of her fucking was clear indication.

        There, I started with the fucking, now for the rest of the story.


        Once I'd finished barfing, and made sure our `guest` was well secured, it's amazing what you can do with tape and imagination . . . and a bondage fetishist like Slinky, I'd gone back to look for Downy. I'd found her outside the cells, weeping uncontrollably.

        I'd taken advantage of her distraction to reach up and in, and pull out the multilimbed 'shoktopus' that was in there. I'll explain it, this once. The woman had been `kind` enough to tell us that the uterus of a Pokègirl changes chemistry during arousal, that signaled the shoktopus to begin paining the Pokègirl enough to wreck the mood of even the randiest Pokègirl. Get it?

        Downy gasped at the invasive violation. Normally, there were minutes to hours of foreplay and preparation, and I'd never stuck my hand that deep inside her. Except I didn't want her aroused in the slightest. And as far as my arousal went, I knew an angry male was the wrong chemical composition to set this thing off.

        She looked at the object of her torment that I'd removed from her. Then she looked at me. She didn't hesitate a moment.

        I wasn't used to the much stronger Seraph being the sexual aggressor. She didn't hurt me, but didn't give me any chance to agree or resist either. Downy rapidly proved she had been paying attention when the other girls talked about sex in general, and sex with me in particular. She kept her tits where I could stroke and fondle them, while she got what she so desperately wanted wet, up and ready. She was already ready.

        What else do you think I meant?

        She was soon pistoning up and down like a mad thing, but arching her back so I could still `play`. She slowed down only when she came, and that was fairly often, which helped me concentrate on staying at attention. She wanted to keep running up the flagpole, then I'd keep saluting.

        Finally her competitive nature overwhelmed her need. After all, she didn't want me pitching a shut out.

        Think about it.

        Then it became a contest between her stamina, which was flagging, and my self-control which always had been weak. But I have those two Angels . . . . Quick put that thought away! Melanie Penderstien! Eek! too much, too much! Melanie Penderstien's older sister.

        Who looked very handsome and rugged, for a guy, but as a girl EESH! Shave your mustache more often! Melanie, however, needed a shave, and a shower, at least twice a day, even a Mephitits didn't smell that bad. And she still turned me down for dates, go figure.

        Downy sagged against me, pressing the two still-firm parts of her otherwise limp body against me. "Tricky, stubborn Master," she told me as I lowered her to the ground. She whimpered a little as I stood away from her, and she wearily reached out to me.

        As much as I wanted to rest in her soft pillows, there were two Angels to consider, as well as the rest of my Harem, and all the girls we rescued. Flower was walking listlessly towards us, and I got the idea she needed to cuddle/be cuddled a lot more than I did.

        Downy was more than happy to gather the MilkTit in. Flower immediately began silently crying her eyes out.

        I left the pair together. Finding the DILF was surprisingly easy. She was standing at the entrance to the cells, near where I'd found Downy. She was running her finger back and forth over the top of the lock on the main door.

        Over and over, back and forth. All the while not seeing what was still in the cells, which was very little, seeing instead what had been in there: Pokègirls of all stripes, most beaten and broken in body, mind and spirit. Why none of them were Penances or other dark evolutions, I still don't know. The young Angel had been hit harder than most when she'd learned the full truth about 'The Mistress'. A truth her mother had known, and shielded her from.

        I admired the Angel's fine figure, but was repulsed by the vacant expression on her face. I stepped into her line of sight. When she didn't focus on me, I began massaging her tits as Skullcap and Flower had taught me. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. I enjoyed the soft/firm flesh and her sensitivity as her nipples hardened. I thought of running other things through those wonderful mounds, and nearly creamed myself on the spot. Only the glorious thoughts of a MILF-DILF sandwich kept me focused on my goal.

        "No," she said in a tiny voice.

        That didn't make me stop, but I had a bad feeling growing in my gut. Well, bad for me, good for someone else. " 'No', what?" I asked as I noted her growing arousal, and felt a little jealousy that I'd never get my dream, but that someone else might, "No, I'm going too fast, no, I'm going too slow?"

        "Amanda, please for Amanda," she gasped.

        CRAP! I hate it when I'm right! I thought, Damn, but I bet Amanda's gonna need you more than I do. I'll want you more, but she'll need you more. I reluctantly stopped stroking. I gripped her nipple through the soft, thin fabric of her halter and pulled slightly. "Come on, let's go. You won't find her in there." I held gently, but firmly, knowing she's follow or get hurt. I don't think you want to get hurt any more, I thought. When she started following me of her own free will, I picked up my pace and switched to stroking her nipple instead.

        "For Amanda," she sniveled, but didn't cover up or push my hand away.

        "Oh, this is for Amanda," I told her, her nipple had quit hardening, but her breasts were getting warmer as her blush spread over her body. I want you ready to jump our poor hero and Tame her brains out like a sex-starved Vixxen, I thought as we walked. I can guess where our hero is, I thought as I led the beaten-down and bedraggled Angel towards her, She needs you more than I do. Not that she wants you more than I do . . . sigh, with my luck, somebody's going to get my treasured MILF-DILF sandwich, and it probably isn't me. Am I jealous? You damn betcha I am! Bein' decent sucks, I should just find your momma and do the two of you. Buuut, Pokègirls aren't any good at faking that they're interested, they either really are or they just aren't. So, I'm getting you all fired up for somebody else.


        I found our hero about where I'd expected to find her. Out in the small clearing, a short ways away from the cavern compound. There were about a dozen mounds, all grassed over to a greater or lesser extent, and nearly 3 dozen similar mounds of fresh-turned earth. My shoulders and back still hurt just looking at them. I hadn't had to dig them or cover them over, but I was the one who had to fill them. Neither the Pokègirls nor Amanda could manage that without getting violently sick. Wrapping the `packages` in blankets couldn't disguise what they were, even if they were `incomplete`.

        Amanda was sitting on a log, staring at the mounds. I pressed DILF against a tree and glared at her. She'll stay until I'm gone, I thought with satisfaction, All the while getting hotter and wetter thinking about comforting Amanda. At least I get to do something I've wanted to do since I met her. I noisily walked up behind her. Made sure she hadn't noticed me despite that.

        And kicked her in the ass as hard as I could. So much for 'pay attention in a fight', I thought with some satisfaction as she landed face-first on one of the graves.

        "There's nothing we could have done, we got here as fast as we could," I said as harshly as I could, "And don't you dare blame Downy for not summoning us quicker! That bitch kept her terrified and nearly Feral the whole time. It's a wonder she was able to spot me and set this whole thing in motion!"

        Amanda had gotten up and spat the dirt from her mouth. She stood there, trembling, with suppressed tears or rage held in check, I nether knew nor cared. I was going to puncture that dam and let it all out, and then let DILF have her way with Amanda. Nothing better that a good Taming by somebody who really loves you, to screw your head on straight, I thought as I glared at her. "None of this is your fault."

        Amanda let her anger drop into dark despair. As she hung her head, I stepped forward and swung back to slap her. She caught my hand this time.

        "Good to see you're not completely lost," I told her as she glared, "You want someone to blame? Slinky's got her trussed up in her little lab. I think just turning Flower and Tableau loose on her would fulfill any description of 'cruel and unusual punishment' you'd care to site. You want someone to beat you up because you aren't as perfect as you think you should be? Think about what would have happened if we'd found her in a couple months, or never. How much suffering did we keep from happening?" Gods, I sound like one of those chick action-heroes, I thought with disgust, Well, chicks listen to them, so I guess I couldn't have picked a better model.

        I yanked my hand loose of her grip, something I shouldn't have been able to do, and stepped back and around to look at DILF and Amanda, so DILF would understand she was included in what I was saying. "Get off your high horse! Beating yourself up is real satisfying, it means you don't have to deal with the problems that are still left. There are lots of people hurting, and you want to moan about 'if only!', then to Hell with you, because none of the 'if only's happened, not the good ones, not the bad ones. Deal with what is. If you have to 'if only', think about the future, we saved eleven girls, and they desperately need us, everybody who can still hold their head up. They all need Taming, now or soon, they need us to remind them that the world isn't wholly all about fear and compliance. DO YOUR DAMN JOB! Or slit your wrists and be done with it, but if you want sympathy, there's lots of others who need it a Hell of a lot more than either of you two."

        I stalked off past DILF, so Amanda's teary, but hate-filled glare would follow me and fall on the frightened, needy Angel. I glanced over my shoulder after I heard the rustle of wings, telling me that Amanda and DILF were going to talk about what a heartless bastard I was, and then the Angel would clean the dirt off her face and soothe the bruise on her ass . . . and commiseration would become more intimate. Exactly what I had in mind, I thought with satisfaction as I continued towards my real target, They ought to be quite busy for a while . . . `discussing` things. I leered inwardly at the thought of DILF playing bump and grind with Amanda, and wished it was me. It was with that growing rage, I hunted down my quarry.


        Mademoiselle Bouillabaisse was watching our captive. The normally laid back and worldly Sapphron looked ready to tear the woman's throat out.

        Probably would have, I thought, If we hadn't duck-taped her mouth shut. "I think BoobyTrap and Tableau were looking for a threesome, outside on the grass."

        "Skullcap, Lamia and Kittypussy cleared out anything . . . and everyone - of value. But they wouldn't touch the materiel in here," Mad B told me as she gestured at the lab, with it's many pieces of glassware and instruments. As well as the huge open pit where the woman's secret weapon roiled and bubbled, stirred endlessly by the powerful arms inside it. "None of them could come in here."

        I looked around the lab and mix station. All the notebooks and chemicals, all neatly filed and categorized. My dad would have done almost anything for equipment this good, I thought of my parents working at patching and cajoling old equipment that had to be kept working, because there effectively were no replacements, If I could figure out a way to ship it to him, and make sure he never found out what it had been used for . . . but the horror of this place is ground into every bit of glassware, every instrument, every piece of tubing. A Psychic or Celestial Pokègirl would pick it up in a second. I felt my anger rising, all the headaches and Hell my parents went through, because they were scientists, who 'played with forces man was not meant to meddle with!' And bitches like this one, can do the most heinous things unmolested, because some rich whack-job agrees with her, I thought, barely containing my fury, There's lots of good honest docs who could turn what she did and what she used into something positive. Too bad I can't risk it.

        "Get some air in any case," I told Mad B. She gave me a strange look, but left without a word. Does she know and agree? Or does she just think I'm in a weird mood? I asked myself, noticing the woman's prepubescent-sized rack, Ugh, she doesn't think I'm gonna get it on with this skinny bitch does she? Yuck!

        I yanked the woman's gag of tape off. In one sharp pull. When she let off a stream of profanity, most of it including my parents and their methods of conceiving me, I took offense.

        Now I love and respect my parents, I just didn't want to stay in that town.

        So I put the tape on her brow, and slooowwwllyy removed the tape, taking one of her eyebrows with it. She got the message when I told her, "There's a lot more hair on your body."

        She merely glared at me, muttering insults under her breath.

        "I'm interested in your work, what you had in mind, what you hoped to accomplish, how you intended to achieve it," I cajoled, "I'm curious. I mean, there are more efficient methods of controlling girls than through fear. Or am I wrong?" I knew that last statement would get her talking endlessly. No woman can pass up the chance to tell a man how he's wrong and how she's better than him. A man-hater like this one barely needed an excuse, she just needed a pause in the conversation.

        "You really don't see it, all you see is cute, little sextoys? Don't you?"

        I see them as companions who like to have lots of sex, I thought while I replied, "They also have tremendous abilities and combat skills."

        "Mankind has destroyed this beautiful planet," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, perhaps in her universe, I hadn't, "Once it was pristine and perfect, then men's ambition destroyed it."

        To impress women into having sex with us, or just quit nagging us about their neighbor's nicer cave or better sabretooth coat, or shinier stones in her necklace, I didn't reply as I tuned out her rant about Humanity's fall from eco-paradise and best way to get back to it. I'd heard it all in school. This religion about why we couldn't return to the old days. How life was better now, with Pokègirls and without industrialization. No one who had to live on the hard-scrabble farms where I grew up believed one word of it, but no one knew any different or how to fix it.

        While she droned on and on about the EEvil men do, as if women were innocent and helpless, I remembered reading the FORBIDDEN history books in the professor's library, while in his lab, he was arranging `my` Megami's far too temporary disappearance.


        The `foul` place she was busily decrying, was what the world was before Sukebe. They had nearly twice the average lifespan we do now. Most of them died of cancer, that is their cells going into overdrive, heart failure, that is their hearts wore out.

        Imagine living so long your heart wears out!

        Strokes, that is their blood vessels got clogged and burst, and a handful of diseases we never hear about now, because you only get them when you're over 50 years old. When's the last time you saw a group of 50 year-olds? They regularly had people who lived into their 90's! Without Bloodgifts!

        Reading those books was like reading a really wild science-fiction or fantasy story. Imagine, more people dying every year because of doctors, licensed, willing and trained, than from weapons. Sounds crazy huh, you're more likely to die of a screw-up or an 'institutional infection' in a nice, clean hospital, than with a spear or a bullet in your guts. I know, it sounds crazy, and yeah, there were places as bad off as we are now. But get this, the places where there were doctors, money and hospitals, they sent them to those bad places and they regularly moaned about the lack of 'adequate health care'. Gods, to have the 'inadequate' healthcare they had 300 years ago.

        But that's the 'horrible time' she wanted to avoid. Her creation narrative was the same as every other religion I'd heard of, and just as mythological. A time of perfection, a fall from Grace (usually the Industrial Revolution or the forging of iron) and an impossible set of sacrifices to achieve Grace again. Funny, in the doc's books, there were people like this lady, some of them said if we only cut the human population to a billion, and we did away with all oil and coal use, we'd achieve this Nirvana or Eden, or whatever, and be at one with Nature. Always it was always capitalized. I wonder what they'd think of 300 million people, 1.5 - 2.5 billion Pokègirls, almost no other animals and none of the polluting industries? Would they think it was paradise? Or would they call it Hell? Are you 'one with Nature' after some critter eats you?

        Imagine a world where smallpox is extinct, not where all are immune or they killed everybody before they could infect others, but where they could hunt down the tiny bug that gives it, and killed it all! Polio, nothing, Rubella, Diphtheria, Measles, Tuberculosis, HA! Not a problem.

        I know, I sound like a madman talking like that, like I'm talking about some blessed afterlife. I'm not, I see what's before me, and I'm talking about what Sukebe's War of Revenge took from us, from Humanity. A blessing beyond what could be expected from the most benevolent of the thousand gods was taken as a right for all by those people, not a privilege for the few with a healer in their Harem. And it was considered a disgrace when and where the people didn't or couldn't get it. Can you even comprehend what I'm saying?

        I should calm down, but it was all so amazing. Scary too, because it was real.

        I mean what diseases really had them worked up? Something called AIDS, along with syphilis and gonorrhea. Never heard of them? You get them from, imagine this, from having sex with Purelines. Ha! Pokègirls Forever! Best reason to stick with Pokègirls I ever heard of! Death by fucking, and they weren't as sex-obsessed as we are? Ha!

        Speaking of sex, there were governments who paid people to sit around and make babies. No they didn't have factories, they made then the same way we do now. These populations were rich beyond our wildest dreams of avarice. Maybe you grew up in a place like I did. If there were too many mouths to feed, it meant the whole family starved, or they'd take a weakest Pokègirl out into the forest/wilderness for the Ferals to eat. Those people PreSukebe probably'd be horrified about the thinking of 'either one dies or twelve die, then the one dies' that is so common and necessary now.

        Anyway, this was the `terrible` world she wanted to prevent us from returning too. Maybe I'm warped, but it sounds more like paradise to me than the disease-ridden, monster-filled shit hole we all live in now.

        It's no wonder the Leagues don't want people to know about it, don't want people to give up their anti-Tech feelings. Get the Tech back, and we could feed 6 billion people, cure all the big diseases, including Ferality, go to other planets, maybe even other stars. Crazy thoughts, impossible thoughts, but once they were at our very fingertips.

        I'll let you hear the best part of the `princess's` little rant, and let you decide.


        The `princess` was still railing against how technologically advanced we are now and how it's an affront to 'The Goddess'.

        Which one? I wondered, And what has she ever done for us to deserve such devotion?

        "Men are the cancer. Men created Pokègirls. No woman would ever create such a thing," she was really on a roll, flecks of spittle at the corners of her mouth.

        Yeah, they'd be too busy back-biting each other to get the work done, I thought, remembering my mom's troubles, The three sisters I grew up with, couldn't work together to save their lives, unless they were united against mom or some other female authority figure. Unless dad was directing them.

        "Pokègirls did show me the answer. So for that, they will be permitted to survive."

        "Excuse me, since you want to get rid of all men and their influence . . . women can't reproduce through parthenogenesis, neither can Pokèwomen. That would leave you with just Pokègirls, and only clones of the existing population as replacements. Isn't sexual reproduction required for genetic diversity. I mean, you'd have no way to alter the existing genome." She stared at me, open-mouthed, so hard I had to explain, "My mother was a botanist, an expert in crossbreeding and hybridization. She talked about her work, she was very proud of it, and rightfully so." The fact I learned this stuff from a woman proves I'm not completely stupid, I thought disdainfully of my guest and her sudden `comprehension` of my intelligent question, If I'd mentioned that my dad was the real genius, who figured out how to make my mom's wild ideas work, you would have shut down instantly.

        She smiled, as if I'd proven I was somewhat educatable. "That is what Pokègirls have taught me, even the most infertile woman will be able to reproduce through a modified brooding chamber. As for genetic diversity, there's always magic to allow the blending of bodies and souls in love."

        Except such magic is dangerous, unpredictable and unreliable, even when just dealing with plants, I remembered, but didn't say when I realized the truth, You just want to get men out of the way, so you can have all the women and Pokègirls for yourself. You don't want to raise us to a new plane of perfection, you just want a date. You could have bought a dozen cute, cuddly and torridly lesbian Pokègirls for the price of one of the pieces of equipment you have in here. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I kept my expression stoic and interested. You're no altruist, you're a narcissist. 'If only all these prettier-but-less-worthy people would get out of MY spotlight! I could shine!' Bullshit.

        "That doesn't explain why you wanted the fear drug and the shocktopuses, shocktopi? Or why you were conditioning those two Angels to go against their nature. Wouldn't an Anti-Feral medication and their gratitude be a better leash on Pokègirls?"

        From her expression, I'd placed myself back in the 'idiot male' category. "And how would we get the Ferals in the wild to take it?" she sneered.

        Salt licks, put it in the water, a thousand ways, same way you planned to distribute the fear drug, I didn't interrupt her rant with facts.

        "Better that they be terrified of us, as they have terrified us! If we created an Anti-Feral drug! What would they need us for?!"

        Sex, leadership . . .

        "Nothing! Sukebe had one thing right, keep them as lesser beings. For all their powers, they are barely-sentient animals. We must remain the master race."

        Amazing, it took eighty-seven minutes for you to finally get to that phrase! 'You sweat and toil to earn bread, and I'll eat it,' an `evil man` who destroyed slavery in the old American Empire warned of exactly that kind of thinking, either from a king, or from another race. I kept my expression neutral, to keep her talking.

        "Women would finally be free to explore their psyches without endless distractions."

        It was all I could do to keep from laughing at that pronouncement. Try plowing a furrow, or several, all day. You'll find that you have more than enough time to explore your psyche. Cause plowing's the most boring job you can imagine! Once you master putting one foot in front of another without thinking, and the draft Pokègirl knows the way, you either meditate or die of tedium.

        "We shall ascend to a higher, more transcendent plane of enlightenment!" she said with a fervent gleam in her eye.

        Like the ancient Egyptians or ancient Romans, I didn't point out, Because you'll just call them patriarchies and casually dismiss the argument.

        "But you've ruined it! You and your brainwashed slaves!" she accused.

        I - brainwashed? I thought, That's a low blow, my forte. "Just cause I'm better in bed, there's no reason to be jealous." I doubt I could have gotten a more violent reaction if I'd set her on fire. The stream of incoherent profanity from someone seeking to 'explore her inner psyche' to 'ascend to a higher, more transcendent plane of enlightenment' was hilarious. Sadly, your inner psyche is a shit pile of jealousy and rationalizations, that's obvious, I thought as I egged her on. "After all, they are sexual beings. I can better satisfy the - customer - than you can. It isn't talent, it's just I've got better . . . interface techniques for the job." Like I actually listen when they suggest something, and pay attention to how they react to stimulation.

        If she could have gotten loose, she would have gleefully torn me apart with her bare hands. I was glad that Slinky was such an expert in binding, and it was enjoyable watching Princess Bitch bounce around, trying to get loose. It was even more fun watching her realize why Slinky always placed some ropes or tape to rub or tighten certain places. Slinky always made escape impossible, but encouraged you to keep trying.

        You're Tamers, you figure out what that means.

        "It won't work," she said, her eyes bugged out from her struggles and her bonds' responses, she still insisted on clutching at straws and calling them triumphs, "My trial will be broadcast worldwide. My cause, my manifesto, and my formula will be available to anyone who wants it. A thousand will spring up where I have fallen, to smite the oppressive, patriarchal power structure!" The foam on her mouth made her look almost as rabid as she was.

        Yeah, I was afraid of that, I thought as I made my decision, I was actually hoping you wouldn't think of that. Too bad, for you. I stepped up to her, and the chair she was strapped to. "What if I told you that no one is ever going to hear of your works? No one will know of what you did here, or why? When people remember you, all they'll know is your failures, and they'll chuckle sympathetically and with pity. The patriarchs, who will know, will laugh long and loud at such thoughts and ideas, deeming them ridiculous and unworthy of their time," I told her in a encouraging though patronizing tone, "You won't be a hero, you won't be a martyr. All you'll be . . . is an angry, silly woman, 'stuck in that time of the month', they'll say, 'Like Linda Mackenzie.' Just another self-deluded misandrist who couldn't get a prom date, and took it out on the world."

        She took the certainty I put behind my soft tone as fact. "You're lying," she told me, in a tone that said she believed it more than I did.

        "I know that the powers who want everyone to 'play nice' won't allow it out. Nor will the Pokègirl Supremacist organizations, and all the Human Supremacist organizations are patriarchal: men rule in their dreams."

        Her entire defiant countenance crumbled as I watched, dragged down by her hatred of the world and her fears it would beat her once again. She realized the impossibility of her cause. "No," she whined, tearing up, "I couldn't live in such a world. I wouldn't want to live in that kind of world."

        "They might even use your discoveries to further cement their power, over Pokègirls and human women. Force them to only produce children, instead of work and excel. Create the world Sukebe lusted after, where all women would be mere sextoys." Stupid people are so fun to manipulate, just push the right buttons, and they run right where you want them. Over a cliff especially.

        She raised her head, her rage had returned full force. "I won't live in such a world," she told me, "I'd die before I'd allow that . . . perversion of my secrets! My MasterWork!"

        I heard the capitals. "Wish granted," I told her as I shoved her chair over into the vat of chemicals. "No guard rail, what an oversight," I said as the weight of the metal chair pulled her beneath the surface.

        The terror on her face grew, as she realized I wasn't going to rescue her. I wasn't following a plan to get her little secrets. I was going to leave her in the toxic soup she'd brewed, and let her die in it. It wouldn't terrify her, like it did Pokègirls, more's the pity. Then she got another little surprise, as I removed from one lab table, something I'd made, while she was spewing her hate.

        They used to make solid rocket fuel, not from ground up Team Rocket members, but from certain chemicals. I knew the formula for a simple one, she had the ingredients. I set the metal pan full of that mix on the liquid, and dropped a match in the pan.

        It blazed instantly, burning through the metal. Moments after I closed the lab's heavy door, the entire vat's surface burst into flame.

        Enjoy deciding if you'll drown, burn, boil or suffocate, I thought as I ran from the cavern complex.

        All the girls were outside, some enjoying each other's company, others just terrified of being alone, or in the dark. MILF stood among them, out in the open, staring at me.

        "She's dead, she couldn't live with the idea of being ridiculed. The stuff burst into flames a few moments after she went in. I couldn't even try to get her out."

        MILF stared at me, hearing no lies by omission or commission, but not seeing the whole truth in what I'd said either. "You wouldn't have saved her either, would you?"

        "After what she did, knowing what she planned . . . I wouldn't have pissed on her if she were on fire. Which she currently is. No, even if I could have, I wouldn't have." I knew it was murder, pure and simple I hid that thought from Skull-Cap and Tableau with the mental object that while she pursued and polished her wish, she produced nearly 50 graves for her victims. Graves we had actually had to put them in, because she couldn't be bothered. If she'd succeeded, there would have been 10 million times that, and all Pokègirls forever would be slaves without hope of ever being free or equal. The two psychics turned away from me, not wanting to read such thoughts. MILF Angel seemed to accept their verdict on my actions, and she turned away as well.

        I set all the girls to packing the gear, both what we'd brought and what we salvaged. I noted that almost every girl held a towel, a scrap of blanket, or a toy, as if it mattered more to them than her life. I let them work without a comment or complaint about this. I'm not going to change things overnight, I realized, Even if I was one of those impossible studs who can Tame a dozen girls in a single night There's things only time and repetition can do. I considered the group. My four, and Amanda's, the two Angels, and the eleven others. I do not want to send any to Storage. In their current state . . . that I wouldn't even wish that on Amanda Von Rothchild dela Samantha. The question remains, what are we going to do with them? There are too many to keep in a Tamer's Harem, and I haven't fought nearly enough battles to become a Harem Master. Amanda's family would probably have a conniption if she asked them to sponsor her to be a Harem Master. I doubt either of us has a Thesis ready that would let us become a researcher, and I don't want to settle down as a Breeder. What do we do?

        DILF and Amanda came out of the woods, where they'd been exorcizing each other's demons.

        "Let's get some distance between us and this place," I ordered, "If she had one little surprise, she probably had others. People like that never want to die alone. They want to take all their victims and oppressors with them."

        Amanda nodded and we picked up our baggage and headed out. As smoke poured out of the hidden smokestacks and ventilation shafts. The inferno within would hopefully erase the woman, her work and all the memories burned into the stone.


        We finally stopped several miles from the lab. For once, I wasn't the one who was too exhausted to go on. That's a bad sign if they got so tired so quickly, I thought, Even Amanda is dragging. Behind us, the column of smoke still marked the grave of the torturer and her dreams.

        None of the girls had said much on the trek.

        Take my word for it, quiet Pokègirls, especially a flock of them, are a sign of deep problems. Pokègirls are social animals, more so than humans. Their constant chatter is a subtle indication to them of who stands where in the pecking order, as well as a constant reminder that they are not alone. Yes, I read, so should you.

        The fact that none of them were making a sound was a big, red flag that there was a lot of work to be done in bringing them back from the edge. A lot more than just Taming them, I thought, A lot of hand-holding, a lot of regular meals, regular discipline and rebuilding their sense of reality to include trusting us, accepting themselves . . . sigh.

        Well, the first step falls to me, then, I thought as they all simply sat down where we stopped, I glanced at our Harems, and Amanda to confirm my worries, There's no one else in any condition to do anything else. Fortunately, I do have a plan.


        Like I said earlier, Pokègirls are social animals. The ones being `adjusted` by 'The Mistress' had been kept in separate, solid-walled, sound-proofed cells. So they could neither see nor hear each other or anything else. I don't know if something was done so they couldn't smell each other either, but sight and sound are necessary for most humanoid communication. Speech, expressions, handsigns all are part of the way we interact with each other. They also lost all concept of night and day. They were fed at random intervals, increasing their feelings of isolation and disconnecting them from any reality except the cell. Some died of disease or infection, injuries from their beatings, or neglect. Some were intentionally killed, for being intractable, or for whatever reason. A few, I can only guess they committed suicide. Of course their bodies had been left in the cells. Nothing like a little reminder of what was in store for `bad` Pokègirls to keep the captives in line.

        All that preyed on the Pokègirls' minds and sapped their wills. They might have found the strength to resist, if they'd been in a group, but add their isolation and the gas pumped into their cells, and you have a formula to break them quickly. Every anxiety became a terror, every concern became a phobia. Compliance with orders gave them some little hope to stave off the darkness.

        It made me wish I'd dragged the bitch out and dissected her, slowly over weeks. The death I'd given her was more merciful than what she had planned for so many others.


        With that firmly in mind, I had Downy, Skullcap and Tableau set up the big squad tent we usually stored our supplies in. That would be where all the Pokègirls would sleep tonight, all together. It's going to be a tight fit, I considered, That may be the best thing for all of them. I'll take the `privilege` of sleeping alone. My tent will be right next to their's, so they'll be able to hear me. I glanced at Amanda, who still hadn't shaken her mood. She'll be with the other girls. Tomorrow will probably be a Taming frenzy, if this works, I thought, If we're exceedingly lucky, some of the girls may request separate quarters, then we can build from there.

        Dinner was also a time of quiet. Pokèchow was consumed in silence, in far smaller quantities than I'd expected. Flower didn't even dose the food with her milk, which was extremely unusual behavior. Neither she nor any of the others reacted while I had dinner. Normally, she'd moan up a storm and wouldn't keep her hands off me. More often than not, dinner was a prelude to the night's Taming. This time, she just held me against one teat, then another, until I'd drunk my fill.

        I know she isn't rejecting me, but she also isn't looking lustfully at Downy, BoobyTrap, or any of the bustier rescuees, I realized, I have to hope a night of togetherness will loosen everyone up for tomorrow.

        The girls all filed into the squad tent, packing in like sardines, pressing up against each other without complaint or comment. None of the girls extended an invitation, not even mine. I was expecting that, I thought, But actually having it happen still hurts a bit. I know the effect of brainwashing. The late, unlamented Amanda Von Rothchild dela Samantha used it on the girls. It took months to undo its effects. Now the 'Mistress's' machinations will take time to wear off. I hope she enjoyed boiling or burning to death while she drowned.

        I considered retiring to the supply tent, then rejected the thought. Somebody needs to keep watch, I thought, She had to have backers, and we aren't far enough away to claim we were headed towards the smoke plume. If they don't perk up tomorrow, or even if they do, I'd better go back and make sure she's really dead. I don't want a half-burnt uncorpse popping up later, like a villain in a movie series or a comic book. I looked up at the stars through the cloudy sky, and considered the real reason I couldn't sleep. I killed her, she should stay dead. If you kill somebody, you should at least make sure you did the job. 'A craftsman is known by his tools', my dad used to say. He was a craftsman, the best and brightest, not like me. I wonder what he'd think of me now . . . . I tried to distract myself with thoughts of his endless work with water and soil, and Pokègirls, to raise crop yields, while mom changed the plants themselves. I'd rather not be a craftsman at my latest `job`.

        It was easy. Maybe as easy as her decision, but I made it, I thought as I kept seeing her terror as she realized I was murdering her, I'd do it again, given the circumstances. I let Amanda VonRDS die, even though I suspected what that other Megami had in mind. I led that Mantis over a cliff. But I never killed someone who couldn't fight back. Would it have been fairer, cleaner, if I'd freed her and put a knife in her hands? No, I would have found out either she studied and was an expert/fatal to me, or she was just as helpless as she was when bound.

        I stood there I don't know how long, listening to the eerily silent forest. There were none of the sounds I was used to from the trees, or from the large number of Pokègirls. It seemed as if they had sequestered me away from their lives, banished me from the normal things and ways I knew. I never regretted anything I'd ever done, I thought hopelessly, Until now. Except did I have a choice? Let her go, bring her to trial and all her predictions would come true. A thousand other hateful nuts would whip up a batch of the stuff. This wasn't killing some evil person in the womb before they could spread misery on the world stage, this was killing them while they were waiting in the wings, ready, willing and able to deliver their misery, I argued with myself, That's all a very pretty rationalization, but it doesn't change the fact, I killed someone with no chance of defending themselves.

        The rustle of wings brought me out of my reverie. The rest of the camp, and the forest was so quiet, if I yelled, which I almost did, I should have had help in seconds. MILF Angel let a soft glow surround her body, her enticingly naked body.

        Angels don't usually take off their clothes unless they have to . . . or want to, I remembered, Bathing and Taming are about the only times they want to. There was not bath or pool of water in sight, so the conclusion was obvious.

        Yet, I was backing away.

        "I'm not going to scold you," she told me as she stepped closer.

        That doesn't preclude you simply caving my head in, I didn't reply aloud as I stepped back, Not that I don't deserve it. Hell, I'd almost welcome it. Almost.

        "I can understand why you did it." She stepped left and right, seemingly at random, but always with a little forward motion, and I always retreated the same distance she advanced.

        "I - I don't th- think you can," I stammered through my reply, "Un - un - less you knew her ultimate plan for humans and Pokègirls, and no, I don't want to discuss it." Looking at her face, and body, I felt a little bad I hadn't done the `good` thing, and given 'The Mistress' over to `justice`. But on the other hand, I wanted to avoid the hundreds of copycats. Maybe this is why that Cameron guy let himself get the chop. Because he didn't want anyone doing what he did, I thought, trying to focus on the girl, but her mere presence made me feel small and unclean, I don't know what else I could have done. I know what would have happened if I hadn't acted. It's as clear now as it was then, and my decision is correct now, as it was then. That doesn't make me feel any better about what I've done, or the way she's looking at me. Like she knows, and what Celestial would approve? Amanda VonRDS, would probably bullyrag me that both I didn't do it soon enough, and how I resolved it, I thought ruefully, But she'd certainly approve of my reticence with MILF now.

        I try to again focus on the girl, and not my thoughts, as I keep backing away from her slow almost dancing approach, She is enticing and beautiful. A little thicker in the waist and heavier jugs, than her daughter, and a sprinkling of gray hair here and there.

        Yes, she was naked, so a could see all her hair. Think about it.

        "You don't seem the shy type," she said, as she slowed her approach, took on a more motherly tone and stance.

        "I had some . . . experiences with a Megami," I replied, then silently added, For doing far less than I've done. I schooled myself not to back away from her approach, I've got to remember that every Celestial type isn't going to turn into another Amanda VonRDS, Downy isn't and that other Megami certainly wasn't!

        "When you were looking at me and my daughter earlier. You wanted us, both of us. Is it you don't want one, but both?" she asked in a teasing tone, stopping just in arm's length while I had backed into a tree and could retreat no further.

        I realized, for the first time since I started my `Tamer's Journey`, I was afraid of a woman. Not a monster like a Mantis, but someone soft and cuddly and willing, even eager. She could have hit you with words or a blow anytime in the last five minutes, I reminded myself, then countered, But I'm still afraid. I don't know why I'm afraid. She isn't going to hurt me, even when she's fucking me, even Fallen Angels don't do that. If she knows what I've done, then the worst I should expect is a lecture, I told myself sternly. I still was pressing myself tightly against the tree.

        That would be bad enough, I countered silently. I still froze when she grabbed hold of me.

        Not there, my shoulder.

        Her grip was firm, but gentle enough that I could have gotten loose, if I'd wanted to, which I didn't. I want it to be over, I thought, I want you to hurt me or kill me, but I want it ended.

        "I'm not going to scold you. Sex isn't a bad or dirty thing," she told me as she stepped in front of me, "It's sacred, bringing those who truly care about each other, closer." She got closer, it was all I could do not to run, her presence, the purity and otherness I'd noted on the other Megami, but never from Amanda VonRDS, was almost physically painful.

        It's all an act, a pretense, something in the back of my mind screamed, Terrific, when did I get a conscience?

        "We only object, when it is cheapened and profaned," she told me softly, almost but not quite touching me, "What becomes an intimate act, become a public spectacle, a competition, or a substitute for a handshake." She had lowered her voice, forcing me to be quieter while she spoke, and making me accept her leaning closer.

        Her arms around my shoulders came as a complete surprise. I drew back, forgetting the tree that was back there. I `bounced` off it, and stumbled forward into her arms. She caught me, holding softly but securely. She didn't throw me to the ground and stomp on me, she didn't berate me, she just held me . . . The way Downy and Flower always did, I thought quietly as I slowly relaxed in her arms, waiting for the blow I knew would come.

        "I know what you did," she whispered.

        I froze, and silently accepted that she'd kill me in the next moment.

        "I don't blame you, nor do I think you did wrong. It was necessary, it would have been done by others, the designated authorities," she said quietly, "You must forgive yourself for doing it. You took her life, and saved countless others. You will not take life casually, or without the appropriate punishment you are now inflicting on yourself. But - you - must - also - forgive. Wrongdoing, acceptance of error and responsibility, punishment, and then forgiveness. That is the proper way of things. You will make yourself miserable for what you have done. Unfortunately, it is necessary, taking of life cannot be trivialized and there must be consequences."

        During her little speech, she lowered us to a sitting position, then laid me on the ground beneath her. "If children are what concerns you," she teased, "I'm not in season. You have no worries in that regard . . . " She smiled wanly, then brightened. "Although you are more than ready to be a father. Those of Amanda's Harem already regard you as such." She told me as she loosened my belt.

        I felt myself relaxing, with one important exception. As she pulled my pants down, that part felt the soft hair brushing against it, concentrating all my tension there. "I do want you, Master," she told me plainly, "I've been Feral for some time. I don't like it, and you need to know that you are who you were. Nothing better that a good Taming by somebody who really loves you, to screw your head on straight."

        With that, she impaled herself on my erection and held my head tight against her breasts while she rode up and down.


The Tamers

`Eugene's` Harem
MilkTit - Flower
Seraph - Downy
Alaka-Wham - Skull Cap
Boobcat - Kittypussy

`Amanda's` Harem
Lamia - Slinky
DigTitTrio - BoobyTrap
PsiLady - Tableau
Sapphron - Mademoiselle Bouillabaisse 'Mad B'


SAPPHRON, the Earthy Chinchilla Pokègirl
Type: Anthropomorphic Near Human
Element: Ground
Frequency: Rare
Diet: herbivore, Pokèchow, fruits
Role: pets, guard animals
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: Electric, Fire, Poison, Rock, Steel
Weak Vs: Flying, Ice, Plant, Water
Attacks: Dirt Spray, Slash, Earthquake, Fissure
Enhancements: Enhanced Senses, Nightvision, Enhanced Speed and Agility
Evolves: None
Evolves From: Chichi (Diamond Stone)

        Sapphrons change little from their pre-evolved state, gaining roughly 6 inches in height and a cup size. Their body fur, still luxuriously soft, changes to a brown color. They tend to be loners, especially compared to the other Chichi branches, living alone in the wild to prevent their earth powers from destroying each others homes. Their relative isolation is further enabled by their being the strongest Chichi evolution, with their only real fear coming from Flying-type predators, and their underground lairs prevent most of those from reaching them. They take readily to combat training, and are surprisingly skilled in pokèbattles, since their opponents often assume that as a Chichi variant, they are weak and that as a Ground-type, they are slow. This underestimation continues largely due to the relative rarity of the Sapphron, especially in Harems, which prevents most opponents from having previous experience with one.

        One quirk of the Sapphron is that they are the most bisexual of all the Chichis, with a strong lesbian preference in their partners. Female Tamers use this to their advantage, being able to gain an unexpectedly strong Pokègirl much more easily than the more common male Tamers.