Disclaimer:
This work is fiction. The work has no relationship with any person existing at any time anywhere whether real or imaginary or copy written. Everything in this work is mea culpa.
This work is the property of Kerrik Wolf (saethwyr@(SPAM)hotmail.com). Please remove (SPAM) to contact me.
You should not read this work if you are under the age of legal consent wherever you reside. This work may or may not contain any and/or all of the following: death, dismemberment, violent acts, implied sex, explicit sex, violent sex, rape, cannibalism, blasphemy (depending on your religion), BDSM, torture, mimes, and just about anything unwholesome that you could consider.
The pokegirl universe was first documented by Metroanime and to him all of us who reside or visit there owe a debt of thanks.
Feedback is encouraged. I enjoy hearing from people. Positive feedback will be appreciated, cherished and flaunted in front of people. Negative feedback will be appreciated, cherished and listened to, that I might continue to grow. Flames will give me a good laugh. Feedback may be delivered to: saethwyr@(SPAM)hotmail.com. Please remove (SPAM) to contact me.
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' “Tommy, go away”;
But it's “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play.
Tommy – Rudyard Kipling
Chapter 1
When the recruiters came to town, the young man went down right away to sign up. They were still setting up banners that said “Save Humanity!” and “Protect Your Own!” when he came up.
One of the recruiters paused. “Can I help you?” He was in his middle twenties and looked like he lifted weights in every moment of his spare time. The other, a thin man with one arm, had an air of recent illness. He continued hanging the banners, using his teeth in place of his missing arm as the muscular man eyed their visitor warily.
The young man nodded. “I want to join the Army.” He brushed a shock of sandy blonde hair out of his ice blue eyes. “I wanna fight.”
The recruiter’s smile faded. “You’re too young. We won’t take anyone who’s not over eighteen.”
The young man scowled. “Oh, is that when the magical protection fades and I can be killed? Until I turn eighteen, I’m safe then?”
The one armed man paused and grinned. “That’s a smart kid. He’s got you there, Dan.”
Dan shot his partner a glare. “I don’t need your mouth, Jamie.” He turned his attention back to the young man. “We’re not taking kids.”
“Yet.”
Dan shook his head. “You heard me, boy. We’re not going to ever take kids fresh from the teat.”
“You will.” The young man sounded definite. “And I’m not fresh from anything, you prick.”
“And just what makes you think that?” Dan ignored the insult.
The young man smiled. “Those things are reshaping continents and killing people in job lots. However, if you’d been paying attention to the news, you’d know the Chinese have stabbed us in the back with their virus. People are dying from it and it’s only a matter of time before it comes here.” He shrugged. “They say it’s supposed to kill them, but it hasn’t been, has it? Some people think they did it on purpose. So far, they’ve killed a lot more of us than our putative enemies have.”
Jamie paused again. “Well, now, just how do you know what’s going on in other countries?”
“Mr. Patterson, here in town, has a shortwave and he’s been teaching me how to use it.”
Dan grimaced. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Winston Tecumseh Archer,” the young man replied proudly. “In India, they’re calling the virus the Breath of Kali because almost everyone who gets it dies. I want to learn what I can from the military before it gets here and you all die.”
Jamie turned to Dan. “Its official name is the Red Plague, but I like their name better. No matter what you call it, Archer’s got a point. My sources say that the mortality rate is over ninety percent.”
Dan sneered. “Your sources? That would be your girlfriend, wouldn’t it? How can you keep that thing around after all they’ve done to us?”
Jamie gave him an amused look. “I don’t really care what you think about her. She’s a good woman.”
“She’s not a woman at all.” Dan’s mouth worked like he wanted to spit.
Jamie ignored him. “Winston, how old are you?”
“I’m almost sixteen.”
Dan shook his head again. “Too young. We’ll be back in three years and you can join then.”
Jamie gave Dan a glance. “Unfortunately, he’s right. We’ll need documentation of your age and, since you told the truth about it, my hands are tied. Still, it’s better than lying.”
He settled down in a chair and wiped sweat from his face. “Damn, I hate being so weak,” he muttered to nobody in particular. “Winston, what you need to do is stay in school. If you have any free time, go ahead and learn how to shoot. The Army will teach you that, but if you already know how to handle firearms, it will enable you to join the local militia. They’ll help you learn other things too.” He glanced at Dan to make sure he was out of earshot.
“If people start getting sick, you stay clear of them as best you can. I think you’re right about the Red Plague coming here and if it does, we’re screwed. If you survive, you’ll be able to help rebuild. Keep that in mind.”
He stretched slowly. “Besides, if it does come here, being in boot camp and surrounded by a whole bunch of people you can’t get away from is not my first choice of where to be.”
Winston dropped his voice. “What are you going to do?”
“My girlfriend is looking for places to run to. If the Plague comes here, I’m gone.” Jamie gave him a serious look. “If you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”
“I wouldn’t give Dan more than a hard time if he begged me.” Winston shared a grin with his companion. “But that much I’d do for free. I guess I need to be going then.”
“You be careful. If it does come here, it’s not going to be fun.” Jamie stood, raising his voice. “Now, you stay in school and stay clear of drugs. We’ll be back and you can try again in the fall.”
“Never going to happen.” Dan gave the young man an annoyed look. “Now go away so I can get to work on my quota.”
***
Six months later.
“For the most part, the people who are going to die seem to have made up their minds and finished the job.” Winston stretched as he listened to Paul McNeal. Paul was one of those people who just loved to hear the sound of his own voice and naturally figured that everyone else agreed with him.
Naturally he was wrong. However, in this case, Winston found himself in complete agreement with his friend.
The Red Plague, or Breath of Kali or one of the hundreds of many other names people called it, had swept through Winston’s little town in Washington State less than a month after the recruiters had come through. Only thirty nine people remained out of a community of almost eight hundred. Winston was the only Archer to make it; the Breath had taken his parents and both of his sisters.
There were too many dead for the living to bury and, he’d heard on the shortwave he’d inherited after the Pattersons died, that in the large cities the dead lay where they’d expired. The survivors were having a real problem with other diseases from the unsanitary conditions between the masses of dead and the loss of electricity but there weren’t enough of them to take care of much more than themselves.
Here, they’d managed to carry the dead into an empty house and, when it got full, they fired it. It was unsightly, but it kept the smell down. It seemed to keep the other diseases at bay as well.
Even with using residences as impromptu crematoriums there were still plenty of empty houses for the survivors. Winston had stayed on at the family farm just outside of town.
Once you got the Plague, you knew within three days if you were going to live. If you made it to the fourth day, your chances of dying dropped to less than ten percent. Most people died on the second or third day as their bodies just stopped working. Everyone caught it and was bedridden for at least two days, only some people didn’t die. No one was sure why, but as usual there were as many theories as there were survivors.
Paul and several others figured that God had saved his chosen.
Winston thought the survivors were just too mean to die. Or, in some cases, they were just too dumb. Of course, nobody had come through such an event unscathed. There had been an additional six survivors of the Breath. Two had committed suicide together. One drank herself to death; privately, Winston thought this one was a third suicide. The fourth had been eaten by pokegirls at his home outside of town. The other two had been racing outside of town and lost control of their cars and collided.
Winston had been one of the people who went to see what the column of smoke indicated. The group had decided to leave them where they were. Maybe later, after the wreckage cooled, someone would take the time to bury them. Doubtful, but it was still possible. Anything was possible.
He looked around slowly. He and Paul were sweeping a section of the county, looking for livestock. The Breath killed almost everything it touched and that included animals as well as people. You check for survivors and if there weren’t any you took everything of value for yourself. Otherwise, it was just going to waste.
Eventually the supplies of gasoline and diesel would run out and that meant that horses were going to be coming back into vogue quite soon. He and Paul were collecting horses and anything else they could find to take back to the ranch the two of them were setting up.
Paul frowned. “Do you think there will be anything here?”
Winston shrugged. “The Truman family raised horses, chickens and some goats, so hopefully there will be something. If nothing else, Mrs. Truman was known for her preserves so there might be some in the root cellar.”
A yowl split the air and both men whirled as a German Shepard whipped out of the barn. Suddenly, a form leaped from inside the building behind him and landed on top of the dog, smashing it to the ground. The creature sank claws into the dog and buried fangs in its neck.
It was humanoid and female, with red fur bisected by black stripes outlining a trim but definitely woman-like body. A long tail twisted as she ripped at the now dead dog, ignoring the two humans for the moment.
Paul gave Winston a sidelong glance. “I’ve heard if you catch one and fuck her, she’ll stick around and be friendly,” he commented quietly. “I heard that’s how Mark kept his.” He made a slow motion towards the rope hanging on the rear of the trailer.
“I’ve heard that too.” Winston gave a low whistle and when the Tigress raised her head curiously, shot her in the face. “I don’t care.” He watched the pokegirl drop and shot her again, this time through the heart. “Let’s see if she ate everything here.” Automatically, he slid two more rounds into his rifle.
A little while later they’d loaded three angry chickens and a handful of chicks along with a tired looking gelding and two cows into the trailer behind the truck. Then they looted the house, taking food and ammunition as well as clothing, jewelry and money.
Paul cleaned out the root cellar while Winston did the bedrooms. The Truman family had died in their beds and Paul was completely terrified of corpses. Paul was thirteen and Winston considered him still a kid in a lot of ways. However, he had a nose for loot and was a fair shot, so Winston kept him around.
Paul understood, however, that Winston was the boss. It was the Archer Ranch and, while Paul was his friend, the Ranch was a business and businesses only had one boss. Anytime Paul forgot that, he was free to take his wages and go.
One of the odd things about the Breath was that Kali had favored women over men. A good two thirds of the survivors were women; even though most of them were probably infertile, they still had needs. Winston was too busy to hook up with one of them, but Paul had a friend in town. After they unloaded the truck, he fished through the jewelry for something nice before slipping into his Firebird and heading off.
All of the survivors had new or at least new-to-them vehicles and most people had been able to find their dream car as their first choice. Paul had drooled over Firebirds since he was eight so, naturally, he’d grabbed the best one he could find. He’d had a slight disagreement with Mrs. Thorpe over it, since she’d wanted it too. But, as she’d become his girlfriend, Winston figured everything had worked out. After all, they both used the Firebird and they had each other.
The fact that Peggy Thorpe was twenty seven didn’t mean much in this brave new world. With two females to every male, the smart ones weren’t too picky and grabbed the best ones first.
Several were chasing Winston, but so far he’d managed to steer clear of any social entanglements. It didn’t mean he hadn’t been laid, it just meant that he’d been very careful not to make any promises, implied or otherwise.
Of course, some women thought that sharing a bed was a promise of sorts and Winston had avoided those women like they still were contagious.
Up in the Yakima Mountains, there had been a survivalist or three and while none of them had avoided the Breath of Kali, their equipment had come in mighty handy. Winston, Paul and Tom McKenzie had stripped one of the places of a wind generator and some DC powered appliances for his house.
They were planning to do the same thing to Tom’s place, but then Tom had been one of the racers in that crash and afterwards it hadn’t made any sense. Winston and Paul had taken some of the townsfolk up there and stripped the other survivalist houses and used what they recovered to jury-rig some power for the town. Hopefully it meant that the townsfolk wouldn’t come looking for his stuff.
If they did, they would discover that the place Winston had cleaned out had given him a nice little armory. They wouldn’t like the discovery and he suspected the survivors would be downright upset about his little secret. He smiled slightly. There was just no way to please everyone all of the time, and it was in his best interest to keep his name at the top of the happy list as much as possible. Sadly, there was only room for one person at the top, but that was life.
What all of this meant was that when he flipped up the light switch in his kitchen, a light bulb actually began to glow. Until the generator or the batteries failed, Winston had power. And since the town had power, he had the internet, courtesy of the town’s satellite uplink. Therefore, one of the many things he was learning just as quickly as possible was wind generator and battery maintenance.
The list of things he was trying to learn would stretch from here to the moon and back. Vehicle maintenance would only carry him until the fuel or the parts ran out so he was studying with some Amish survivors on how to break horses for riding.
It was funny how not many people made fun of them anymore, now that the population of the US was somewhere around five million and still falling slowly.
Winston figured that this winter was going to be the test. The people who survived their first winter in the new world would be so tough that only the pokegirls would be a credible threat.
It was a pity that the Red Plague hadn’t hurt them much. Jimbo should have made them more human.
Winston sighed. “What I really wish is that bastard had died at birth so I’d still have my family.”
He didn’t really hold much against the pokegirls, they were just trying to get by as much as anyone else. Two men in town had captured one. The first had managed to keep her friendly and, like Paul had mentioned, according to the rumors he’d done it with his dick. He wasn’t talking about it much yet. He did know that Mark’s was some kind of bovine. Other than that all he really knew was that Mark was suddenly in the dairy business and seemed to be doing quite well.
The second had been the one who’d been eaten. One out of two wasn’t good enough odds for Winston to go hunting his own piece of furry ass, especially since most of it tended to be attached to sharp teeth and claws.
He grinned at a thought. “I think it would solve my problem with the town wenches chasing me. Maybe it might be worth a try after all.” Since he was likely to run across more of them in his explorations, maybe he’d have to talk to the man who’d kept one. Mark was kind of a friend, and could be expected to reveal what happened, although the pump might have to be primed with some beer before knowledge would flow.
Winston had encountered three pokegirls so far and had shot each one before she could become a serious threat. One had looked vaguely like some kind of chicken crossed with a girl. She’d been kind of pathetic, but he wasn’t taking any chances after seeing the news reports of the battles during the war and so he’d popped her. One had been black with gold rings on her body and came with a seriously bad attitude. She’d been determined to get to him and had been ripping her way through the walls of the house he’d been exploring. Before he’d gotten serious with her it had been a bit touch and go and he’d unloaded several 12 gauge slugs into her. She’d taken a lot of killing. The last had been the kitty he’d seen today.
The word was that if you could catch one, she’d protect you from the others. Soldiers had supposedly been using this to turn them into weapons against their own armies and this had been what finally stopped the largest assaults by the pokegirl forces.
Playing with pokegirls that came with razor teeth and claws was all fine and dandy for the guys with the body armor, but Winston hadn’t been able to get any so far and felt just a bit vulnerable without it.
Winston updated his records to reflect the new additions. The gelding was a shame for he only had one stallion and a donkey jack for his mares. He was hoping to find some jennies or else the jack would only be good for mules. Mules were ok, but they couldn’t breed. Another stallion would also be helpful to avoid too much inbreeding. Maybe he’d place a note on his website to see if someone had too many of them someplace close.
After a quick dinner of scrambled eggs and canned beans, Winston took a quick shower and went to bed.
***
Winston opened his eyes and checked his watch. 2:20 am. “What was that noise?” he muttered to himself. He rolled to his feet and grabbed his rifle as his stallion bugled a challenge and someone screamed. “Fucking thieves.” There hadn’t been any reports of rustling but then someone had to be first.
He dashed through the house in his t-shirt and underwear. There was another scream, this one cut off in mid cry. “That’s it; show them why you’re named Disaster.”
Winston hit the switch to the floodlights as he ran for the corral. The lights came on for a second and he distinctly heard the pop as the circuit breaker opened to protect the batteries. “Shit.” In the faint starlight, he could see Disaster running in a circle in the corral. A dark form lay supine in the dirt.
The stallion snapped at him and he smacked the horse on the nose as he opened the gate. “Get back, you brute.” He and Disaster had worked out who was boss long before and the stallion moved to the far side of the corral.
He leaned over, still watching Disaster, and heard a weak female voice. “Help me.” The voice wavered and died in mid-word.
The stallion was still pissed and making mock charges at him, so Winston threw her over his shoulder and retreated outside the corral.
He dumped the woman on the ground and quickly searched his yard, frowning when he realized that there was no sign of other horses or any strange vehicles.
“What the hell was going on?” He threw the woman back over his shoulder and carried her inside, dumping her unceremoniously on the couch.
After resetting the breaker for the battery, Winston turned on the living room light and jumped when the woman moved. She reached out a hand and took him by the wrist. In a low, pain filled voice she said simply, “Thank you. You’re a good man.”
For a second, he stared. It wasn’t a woman after all, and he hadn’t heard about any of them being able to talk.
Even though she was wearing a denim skirt and a sweater, she was quite obviously a pokegirl. He figured she was a couple of inches taller than him, which would put her around six feet tall. Long graceful ears added another foot and a half to that. The fur on her ears matched the midnight black hair that fell around her head and grass green eyes met his. He’d seen some on the news that looked more like animals than she did. If you put her into a swimsuit, she wouldn’t be out of place in a Playboy Club, at least in a dim light or until she moved her ears.
He took a deep breath as his mind began to work again. “You can talk.”
“My arm is killing me.” She whimpered once as her hand tightened on his wrist.
Winston could see that her left arm was bent at an impossible angle. “You’ve got a bad break. I’ll be right back.”
Quickly, he returned with a medical kit and some other supplies. Carefully, he cut the arm off the sweater and examined her smooth skin. “The bone didn’t break the skin, but I’m going to have to straighten it before I splint it.” He took a bottle and a syringe from the kit and retrieved a clean needle. He looked her over and estimated her body weight before filling the syringe.
“What is that?” She didn’t sound worried, just curious.
“Ketamine. It’s an anesthetic that works on humans and animals, so I’m hoping it will work on you.” Carefully he injected the drug into her thigh. “Now we wait for about fifteen minutes.”
The pokegirl suddenly grinned. “You’re cute.” She winked at him. “Come here and give us a kiss.”
Winston chuckled. “You’re high. I guess the drug is working.” He poked her broken arm gently. “Does that hurt?”
She stretched. “Yes.” Her good arm pointed across the room. “Over there.”
“Well, if it hurts way over there, we can get started.” Quickly, Winston straightened her arm and bound it to the splints. “I wonder if we can get you a cast. We’ll have to find out tomorrow.”
“Ow.” She didn’t sound as if she was in pain, but he knew that would change when the drug wore off. He got a pillow and some blankets and made her comfortable on the couch.
She waved an imperious finger at him, drunkenly. “My shoes, servant, remove my shoes.”
Winston shook his head and carefully removed her boots. “Even your toes are cute.”
She blinked owlishly. “Of course they are. I am a sexpth, a sethpet, a sexpot! Only the best genes for me, even if I am wearing a skirt.” She gave him a conspiratorial look. “Pants are bad for my tail.”
“So, what are you?” Winston pulled a chair close to the couch and made himself comfortable in it.
“I am a SnuggleBunny, knave,” she purred. “Come here and reap your reward for rescuing me.”
“How about we let that arm mend first? Anything too athletic and you’ll regret it in about an hour.”
Fifteen minutes later, she was fast asleep. Winston watched her for a while before getting up and heading for his bed. “I don’t think you’re going to slash my throat in my sleep.” He killed the light as he left the room.
***
His watch chirped at six and he opened his eyes and tried to sit up. An arm tightened across his chest and a sleepy protest was murmured into his ear.
Suddenly Winston was wide awake. Memories of the previous night flashed through his mind and he slowly turned his head.
The SnuggleBunny kissed him on the cheek. “Hi.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “Is it time to get up?”
“Yes. How’s your arm?”
“It hurts a lot, but I can live with it. Why did you mention getting a cast last night?”
She looked scrumptious and he swallowed. “You broke both of the bones in your lower arm. A cast will make sure that you heal properly.”
“Why bother? Aren’t you going to shoot me, too?” She pouted and he watched her lips. He blinked when they drew into a gentle smile. “Archer? I asked you a question.”
He tried to drag his mind away from her presence. The ache in his groin indicated that his body was a lost cause but he still held some hope for his mind. “I, um, how do you know my name?”
“I can read minds if I touch someone.” She pursed those lips again and traced a finger across his chest. “You had some very naughty dreams about me last night.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “Then you know I don’t really want to shoot you.”
She blinked. “You’re quicker than I thought.” The smile appeared again. “I know you don’t want to shoot me with a gun.” Her smile widened as he flushed. “Later, I’ll let you do just that.”
“How can you talk?”
“I have the same kind of sound modulating equipment in my throat that you do,” she replied archly. “However, to answer the question you’re really asking, all pokegirls can talk. I’m just the first non-feral one you’ve met, with the possible exception of Mark’s. If he’s doing the nasty with her, then she’s recovering, if she was feral.” She kissed his cheek again.
“You see, if we don’t get laid on a regular basis, we lose,… well, we lose what makes us individuals. We become what we call feral. That’s what Sukebe called it and so that’s what we call it.”
“When we go feral, we lose our higher brain functions, including speech. The only cure for the feral state is sex with a human. Sex with another pokegirl can stave off going feral, but only a human can bring us back. Since there aren’t many humans left, thanks to the Chinese, many pokegirls have to go without.” She shrugged. “The ones with the more violent tendencies tend to get a little grumpy at that point, like the Umbrea you killed. She’d have regretted killing you after her mind woke up, but that wouldn’t have stopped her from snapping your spine during sex.”
She scratched her hip and Winston suddenly realized that she’d managed to take off her skirt before joining him in bed. From the waist down, she wore only a skimpy pair of black lace panties. She smiled as a question formed in his mind. “I couldn’t get the sweater off with only one good hand.” She winked. “I’ll need your help to get dressed again; that I can’t do by myself until my arm heals.” She glanced at the bulge in his underwear and gave him a sultry look. “That, I may be able to take care of myself.” His flush deepened and she gave a soft laugh. “I don’t want to go feral after all.”
“Depending on what we did in Sukebe’s forces, we received differing levels of education. This Mark has a Milktit, if your memories are correct. They served as a walking drink fountain for us and didn’t need much of an education to know which orifice the grass goes into and which one the cock goes into.”
“I was a spy, so I needed a much more thorough education in several disciplines. Most of my work involves sex, so I’m very, very good at all things sexual.” Her voice dropped sexily. “I’ll show you what I mean when I’m feeling better.”
“I can eat anything a human can and several things that would kill you. So, what’s for breakfast?” She slowly sat up. “Oh, god. I have to pee. I think I can do that on my own.”
“The ketamine is flushing out through your kidneys.” Winston slipped out of bed and helped her up. “You should know where it is.”
She flashed him a smile. “You are bright and you adjust well. I’m going to like it here.” Suddenly, she got a panicked look and darted down the hall, tugging at her panties as she did so.
TIGRESS, the Fighting Feline Pokégirl
Type: Animorph (tiger) to Near or Very Near Human
Element: Fighting
Frequency: Uncommon
Diet: meat, milk, human style foods
Role: Combat. Often found as the Pokégirl partner to some police.
Libido: Average, Hetero
Strong Vs: Bug, Dark, Ice, Normal, Rock, Steel
Weak Vs: Flying, Psychic
Attacks: Bite, Scratch, Slash, Pummel
Enhancements: Enhanced Olfactory Senses (x6), Enhanced Hearing (x5), Enhanced Agility (x3), Enhanced strength (x5), Quick Recovery time, Claws, night vision,
Evolves: Panthress (mistreatment), Ebony Tigress (mechanism unknown), Titter (mechanism unknown), Sabretooth Tigress (Diamond Stone (eaten), Dawn Stone (does NOT have to be eaten), White Tigress (E-Stone Ceremony, high level, strong bond with Tamer)
Evolves From: Catgirl (battle stress), Goth (by Sarcastic Goth sub-types only; battle stress)
The black stripped reddish-orange fur, sleek feline muscles, tail and cat ears are traits of the often sought after Tigress. Their passionate nature, insatiable appetite and wild manner mean this girl is a wild one in bed, indeed the phrase "Tigress in bed" refers to this, setting a standard that all other Pokégirls are judged by.
The exact physical traits of a Tigress vary with some being full Anthromorphs with fur covering their entire body, whilst others have fur only on their arms and legs or none at all, almost all have furred tail and cat ears. Breast size hovers around a C-cup with larger cup sizes impeding fighting skills. Most stand at a height between 5 foot 5 and 6 foot; have well toned sleek muscular forms and impressive flexibility.
During taming Tigress are extremely passionate always pushing the limits of both Pokégirl and tamer to the limits, feline flexibility, sleek muscles and insatiable appetite mean that a taming with Tigress is a memorable event for even the most experienced of tamers. They are very sensual, loving any attention paid on them particularly having their fur stroked with their tail being particularly sensitive.
Outside of the bedroom they are fighters to the core, throwing themselves into battle with the same passion that they approach taming, always pushing their limits to the max and most enemies are often intimidated by the ferocity with which Tigress faces combat. The willingness to do hard work and intense loyalty make them an ideal Pokégirl for both tamers and as partners to Police Officers.
The breed has taken some hits in its popularity over the years with events such as Mao's Rebellion and the discovery of the Panthress causing people to look at breed in a new light, nevertheless the Tigress remains a strongly sought after Pokégirl.
Frequency: Extremely Rare
Diet: classic omnivore
Role: Unknown, when questioned, Cologne responded with: “He was hentai, dammit.” *WHACK*
Diet: classic omnivore
Role: Unknown, when questioned, Cologne responded with: “He was hentai, dammit.” *WHACK*
Libido: High
Strong Vs: Ghost, Poison, Psychic
Weak Vs: Bug, Dark
Attacks: Leer, Earlobe Nibble, Ear Blow, Smile, Teleport, Eros’ Bow, Cry, Mental Feel-Up, Spank, Sex Attack 1,2,3, Sexy Hug, Go Down, Rapid Stroke, Phantom Touch, Aura Sensation
Enhancements: Enhanced Strength (x3), Enhanced Speed (x2), Recovery, Telepathy (touch only), Blank Mind, Phase Sight, Endurance, Recovery, Flexibility, Limited precognition
Weak Vs: Bug, Dark
Attacks: Leer, Earlobe Nibble, Ear Blow, Smile, Teleport, Eros’ Bow, Cry, Mental Feel-Up, Spank, Sex Attack 1,2,3, Sexy Hug, Go Down, Rapid Stroke, Phantom Touch, Aura Sensation
Enhancements: Enhanced Strength (x3), Enhanced Speed (x2), Recovery, Telepathy (touch only), Blank Mind, Phase Sight, Endurance, Recovery, Flexibility, Limited precognition
Evolves: None known
Evolves From: Bunnygirl (mechanism unknown), PlotBunny (simultaneous orgasm with Tamer)
Evolves From: Bunnygirl (mechanism unknown), PlotBunny (simultaneous orgasm with Tamer)
SnuggleBunnys are tall and slender, usually around 6 ft in height and averaging a firm C Cup. They have black hair and tend to wear it long, although they put it up for battling. SnuggleBunny’s insist on wearing clothing, because as one put it, “The hidden is desired.” Most wear some kind of form fitting bodysuit, to make it harder for their opponents in battle. All are haughty, at least until the battle begins.
SnuggleBunnys have been around since the beginning, only their rarity and tendencies have kept them from being well known.
SnuggleBunnys have a limited form of telepathy that they can only access through touch, which is where their name comes from, they tend to want to snuggle or otherwise touch just about anyone they meet. Once they touch you, however, they know every secret you have, sexual and otherwise, and in battle they set out to give you what it is that that their opponent desires most sexually. SnuggleBunny’s have no taboos and will perform anytime, anyplace, just as long as their opponent likes the situation. This has led to a couple of amusing episodes where a SnuggleBunny has refused to SexBattle a Pokégirl who didn’t like public tamings. Usually the battle is allowed to proceed in private, in such a situation.
In SexBattles, SnuggleBunnys tend to snuggle their opponent which allows them to use their telepathy and puts them in position to use their other attacks. Often after using an attack, a SnuggleBunny will use Phantom Touch to continue the feeling and move on to another technique.
SnuggleBunnys are not often found in harems, they are inveterate wanderers and with their limited precognition and teleport are very hard to catch. They are not found feral, merely because they can always convince someone to tame them.
Rumors have that SnuggleBunnys make a habit out of visiting powerful members of the leagues that they live in, thus gaining access to their secrets, which ensures that if they are captured, League officials will order them released very quickly.
There is one notable account of a SnuggleBunny: the not very well known Tamer Elmer Befuddled was visited by a SnuggleBunny when very young and then spent the rest of his life trying to catch her. Because of this, “Be Vewwy Quiet, I’m Hunting Wabbits” has become a slang phrase for an endeavor that can never be successfully completed.