Chapter 3: Maeve
Devon made camp a couple of hours after leaving the Institute. He quickly laid out his sleeping pallet and started a fire. While supper was cooking he used his PDA to read up on the Mini-Top pokegirl. The Witch was still traumatized from her Threshold transformation and would be for at least a couple of days. He’d leave her in the storage system of his pokepack, where she’d remain in stasis, so he didn’t have to deal with her tonight.
That meant that taming the Mini-Top took the utmost priority.
Unfortunately, Mini-Tops were very rare. Even when they were interviewed, the pokegirl often turned out to be less than cooperative. In fact, they could be considered downright vicious. Devon knew that pokedex entries were generic and thus often very inconsistent or incorrect concerning individuals, so he dug deeper.
Considering his family’s ties with the pokegirl breeding community, Devon had access to information not usually available to the average tamer. However, report after report emphasized their quick temper and brutal nature as well as their savage sexual aggression. There were some reports of slightly more temperate behavior towards their tamer, but the numbers were so small as to not compose anything close to a representative sample. He did note that the reports of more moderate behavior had a common theme. The Mini-Top in each report had evolved as the result of trauma external to the social group as opposed to personalized abuse.
Devon stared off into the distance for a few minutes before squaring his shoulders and accessing his PDA's remote functions. He sent a request through the Conservatory’s server net to the local police net, requesting the Mini-Top’s report.
As he signed off after the report downloaded, Devon allowed himself a twinge of guilt. He didn’t like using his family’s influence, and the fact that his actual pokegirl journey hadn’t formally started was scant comfort. However, if it helped him deal with his new pokegirl, Devon knew he’d trade on his family name every time.
The police report was more enlightening, if slightly repulsive. Armbrust had been correct that the Mini-Top had previously been a Beachbunny. However, his casual reference to the loss of her tamer and harem paled beside the police report. The water pokegirl involved hadn’t yet been identified, but was suspected in a rash of attacks up and down waterways all through the Highlands. Bodies of Ferals had been found torn to shreds. But there had been no surviving witnesses until the Mini-Top’s group was attacked.
Based on what Psychic pokegirls had reconstructed, police were now looking for an extremely vicious Sharptits. The pokegirl had captured the tamer and his harem and had then systematically and slowly tortured each prisoner in turn to death. The Beachbunny was to be the last victim in this particular attack, and had only escaped when the Sharptits was attacked by a territorial Titacruel. The Beachbunny had fled in the ensuing confusion.
The Beachbunny had been tortured almost to the point of death before this point however, and the attached medical report was a fascinating read of how best to bring back a pokegirl on the absolute brink of death. So many foreign objects had been embedded in her body that she’d actually required surgery before she could go into a pokeball. During the surgery she died three times on the table and had been brought back each time before finally stabilizing. In Devon’s opinion, the medical team deserved commendations if not raises.
When his phone chirped, Devon wasn’t surprised. Using the net would have informed the Conservatory security force that he had turned on his phone. Someone was sure to call.
It was Poppet. Surprise, surprise. “So how are you?” He could see her staring out of the vidscreen, trying to determine his state.
“I’m fine. Still coherent, even.” He smiled. “I’ve got two pokegirls and am en-route to the Jerrik ranch. I should be there in a couple of days.” A brief smirk. “Even if I get distracted, I will be there before the dirigible arrives.”
Poppet visibly relaxed. “All right.” A pause. “I don’t suppose I could prevail upon you to listen to my tirade about the idiodicy that happens to be involved in you, of all people, haring off into the wilderness on your own?”
“No. In my own defense, however, I did invite Andai to go with me. She got all pissy and left.”
Poppet nodded. “Andai told us all about your little conversation with her.”
“And?”
“I didn’t realize just how stupid she was.”
Devon laughed at the confirmation.
“I’m glad you find this funny. Your life would be easier if you just gave in to me once in a while.”
“But a lot less fun.” Devon grinned. “And now goodnight and goodbye.” Hanging up the phone, he added it to his pile of gear.
***
Night had fallen by the time Devon opened up the Mini-Top’s pokeball. She stood there and looked around the camp, her pink coveralls incongruous against the firelight illuminating the woodland scene.
She was small but not as small as the Witch. Devon figured she was about ten centimeters taller than the Witch and about the same amount shorter than him. Her hair was a dappled brown and white and her brown ears hung down behind her body to her knees like pigtails. The coveralls did nothing to reveal her figure, but Devon could tell she was trim. That made sense. Mini-Tops lost a good deal of bust and their figure slimmed down during their Evolution. Some of the body fat moved to the ass, and Devon wondered how it would feel to squeeze it in his hands or how it would taste when he sank his teeth into it.
She focused her attention on him.
“What happened?” Her tone was incurious.
“When I told Armbrust that I wanted you, he had Clair catch you unawares from behind.”
The Mini-Top showed the first signs of emotion. “Nothing less than I’d expect from that bitch.”
Devon filled a plate of food and handed it to her. She eyed it cautiously. “No pokechow?”
“No. When I can afford to, I expect to feed all of my pokegirls the same food I’m eating.” Devon gave her a soft smile. “And when I can’t, I expect to starve with them.”
As the Mini-Top sat down to eat, Devon continued. “I also got the Witch that was with you.”
The Mini-Top glanced at him then returned to her meal. She ate quickly, bolting down the vegetable stir fry. “So you asked for her and they made you take me as well. So where is she?” She put down her now empty plate and looked around.
“She’s still inside her pokeball, resting. Until she comes out of Threshold shock, resting is all she is going to do. Hopefully that won’t take more than a few days. Starting tomorrow, she’ll come out of her pokeball to join us for meals until I am sure she’s starting to improve.”
“And I want to correct a misconception on your part. I did want to get the Witch away from that place, but the pokegirl I wasn’t going to leave without was you.”
“Right. I’m a Mini-Top. Trouble with a capital T. Why would any tamer in his right mind want me? So far you do seem to be all right, but perhaps I’m mistaken. You can’t always identify the insane right away.”
Devon sighed. He looked out into the night. “Want you? Perhaps.” He swung back to look at her. “I need you.”
“Need me? Why?”
Devon leaned forward and took a deep breath. Her scent was warm and spicy. He shivered as his head swam. Oh, by the Gods, no. Not yet. Give me a little more time. He stood up and backed away from the Mini-Top until his retreat was stopped by a tree. He sank to the ground, leaning against the tree, taking regular deep breaths, completely emptying and filling his lungs in turn.
His words were spoken quickly, almost frantically. “The Witch is in Threshold shock. She’s already been treated like shit by the people at the Institute. One of the primary reasons you leave pokegirls alone during Threshold is because if they are subjected to stressors their personalities might never reintegrate. It can be just like a level five training cycle. If I tamed her tonight it could destroy whatever is left of her that those bastards didn’t get to kill.”
He whispered, so low that the Mini-Top, even with her superior hearing, had to strain to make out the words. “I have to tame tonight. Now. Soon.” His head drooped. “I have a blood curse. Tamer’s Disease.”
The Mini-Top’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of it. How long has it been since you were last laid?”
“This is the third day. Tomorrow, at the latest, I become a raging monster that will fuck anything I can hold still.”
“Has it ever happened?”
“Once. I lost control at the Conservatory. After reconstructing what happened, we figured out that I attacked almost fifty pokegirls and pokewomen. I also threw almost all of the others into a breeding frenzy. I completely blew that year’s breeding schedule and was the sire in seventeen pregnancies. Not my finest moment.” His tone was wry. “After that, everyone took great pains to make sure I had company every night and during the day if it looked like I was slightly interested. I was thirteen.”
The Mini-Top looked slightly stunned. “How did you attack fifty pokegirls in one day?”
“I also have recovery and endurance.”
The Mini-Top got up and walked over to stand in front of him. “I bet you are just great fun at parties.” She slid the straps of the coveralls off of her shoulders and shimmied out of them. Her white skin gleamed red in the firelight. Her breasts were small, but perfectly formed, truly nothing to be ashamed of.
Devon found himself staring at the Mini-Top’s pubic hair. “It’s like the hair on your head. Dappled. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She went down onto her knees in front of him, raising herself up to look him in the eye. Devon hurriedly went to his knees to meet her. She leaned forward until her nose was almost touching his, her eyes staring into his. “What is your name?” Whispered. Her natural perfume made his head spin.
“Devon.”
She brushed her lips against his. Devon leaned forward to kiss her, but she leaned away. “What is my name?”
The question swam through his consciousness and mixed with the sweet scent of her. A name surfaced to meet it. “Maeve.”
“That’s a pretty name. Perhaps too pretty for me, don’t you think, Devon?” She stared into his eyes.
“It’s perfect.” Devon leaned forward, his lips brushing hers. “It means ‘intoxicating’. That certainly describes you.” He took her in his arms and kissed her hungrily.
Maeve retuned his kiss, her arms twining around his neck. Devon tightened his grip and stood, carrying Maeve with him. He carried her over to his pallet and laid her down.
She looked hungrily up at him. “Someone has too many clothes on, and since I don’t have any on, that means you.”
Devon grinned. “Easy enough to fix.” He took his shirt in his hands and pulled. Fabric ripped and he shrugged out of the remains of his shirt.
Maeve watched him finish stripping. “Strong too. Strength blood gift?”
Devon dropped onto the pallet next to her. “Yeah, but that was mostly these.” He held up one hand. Short claws extended from his fingertips. “I’ll probably regret destroying that shirt in the morning.”
“They are kind of small. Are they good for anything else besides ruining shirts?” Maeve stretched and reached for him.
Devon chuckled as their lips met again. “Ruining gloves.”
He kissed her hard and then worked his way down the line of her throat. Maeve arched and moaned beneath him.
She gasped when his lips closed around a nipple and he sucked. Fingers wound themselves in his hair and crushed his face against her chest. “Harder,” she moaned. “Bite them.”
Devon gently took her nipple in his teeth and bit down. “Harder,” she ordered. Devon bit harder. “OH GOD!” Her body jerked.
“Yes,” she sighed as Devon moved to the other nipple. He took it in his teeth and started biting down. Her moans grew louder and louder and suddenly she screamed as he slid two fingers into her dripping pussy. Her body flailed as she orgasmed.
Devon pumped his fingers slowly in and out of her pussy as she came down. She drew a shaky breath. “Damn. And that’s just with your fingers. I can’t wait for your cock.” Her hands pulled at his shoulders. “Fuck me.”
Devon moved between her spread legs and rubbed the head of his cock against her pussy. “What was that?” he teased.
“You heard me. Fuck me.”
Devon continued to tease her. “What?”
Maeve wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled, putting Devon underneath her. In one smooth motion she impaled herself on his cock. “I SAID FUCK ME!”
Devon rolled, putting Maeve back underneath him. He smiled. “All you had to do was ask.”
Maeve’s angry retort was swallowed up in a moan as he began to stroke into her.
“Faster.” Devon sped up. Her pussy was so tight he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. “FASTER! FUCK ME FASTER!”
Devon grinned as he began slamming his cock into Maeve. She screamed “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!” Devon could feel the pressure rising in his balls.
He began to drive even harder into Maeve’s body. Maeve convulsed beneath him, shrieking. Nails raked down his back as his seed spilled into her.
Maeve collapsed underneath him, panting. He leaned forward, keeping his cock inside her. Devon peered closely into her eyes. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints as she went into Taming shock. Her eyes slid halfway shut.
Devon could feel blood slowly trickling down his back. The pain would come later.
He kissed her lips softly. “Maeve.”
She opened her eyes. “Hmmm?”
“Tomorrow we are going to clip your fingernails.”
Maeve shook her head. “Mini-Top.” She gave him an ugly look. “Mmmmini.”
“Hush. You are going through Taming shock.” He nibbled at her lips. “It will pass in couple of hours. Once it’s done you’ll never have to through it again with me.”
“Mini. Mini mini mini mini top.”
Devon laughed. “You say the cutest things.”
Maeve glared. She opened her mouth and Devon quickly covered it with his hand. She bit him lightly.
“Now, now. Trying to talk is just going to make you madder. Try talking without your mouth.” She looked at him curiously.
Devon slowly pulled his cock out of her pussy and even more slowly slid it back in. Her eyes widened and she made an inquiring noise.
“That’s right. Remember, I have recovery.” Her eyes rolled up in her head as he slowly stroked again. “The truth is that once I’m inside a pokegirl my cock never really gets soft. And since I have endurance, I can do this all night. Until you beg for mercy.”
“Uh uh?” Maeve shook her head emphatically.
He snickered. “I guess you are right. Until you mini for mercy.” That earned him a glare.
She moaned again as he propped himself on his arms and started stroking steadily. “If you are good, I’ll let you get on top for a while later.”
She was very good.