PMU: Damian's Story Ch. 23

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Damian had an easy time preparing for the museum trip because he had slaves to help him dress, and because his roommate was going on the same trip. Damian did not, strictly speaking, need help getting dressed. Boxers, shirt, pants, socks, shoes. It wasn't hugely difficult, but having three monster girls fuss about with his body was enjoyable nonetheless. Beatrice buzzed around his body, tucking, pulling, fiddling, brushing his hair. While it was probably all fairly pointless, he wasn't about to stop his Bee girl from caressing his body or playing with his hair.

The other two slaves were attempting to help as well. Hinako's long limbs spidered over and around him, taking directions from Barbara. He wasn't sure why the Spider Pokegirl was accepting instructions about fashion from the one woman in the room who literally did not have eyes, but she was doing it. Hinako didn't have much of a dress sense, having seemingly lost all notions of appropriate clothing while she had regressed into being a monstrous spider. Now that her limbs had hands and feet again, she always deferred to others about what she should wear. Still, despite all the fussing, the net result was that the slaves decided that he wouldn't wear a hat after all. Naturally, he was the master and they were slaves, so he could easily overrule their sartorial choices, but letting them feel useful to him was important.

His roommate was receiving a more intensive intervention. Adelaide's slave and lover was convinced that she did not know how to dress. Willow, the Dryad Pokegirl was equally convinced that Adelaide's other slave Pippi didn't know how to dress either. As far as the Pathetic Fish Girl went, Damian couldn't say he disagreed. Left to her own devices, Pippi wore stripes on her shirts and socks, and denim everywhere else. The glasses she'd chosen were hipsterish at best. Under Willow's harsh guidance, the redheaded Fish Pokegirl had ended up with tight denim shorts and a plaid blouse that was tied up under her modest breasts to reveal her pale belly. It looked like a virgin's attempt to be a sexy farm girl, which was a bit on the pathetic side but probably the most fuckable look available to Pippi.

Adelaide herself mostly favored dressing in an unobtrusive way. Frumpy dresses. Bulky unisex jackets. Figure-obscuring blouses. All things which Willow was having none of during an excursion to the museum. "When you go out with your slaves, people should know that you're the mistress and we're the slaves!" The result was a dark green bodycon dress and black boots that came nearly up to her knees. The Frog Artist trainer keroed in embarrassment, but the truth was that like most students of PMU she actually had a fantastic figure. Damian agreed that Willow really knew how to show off her mistress' assets.

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When they arrived at the front of the museum building, several women he knew from class were already there with their own slaves. The most surprising was Esmeralda, not so much that she was there, but that she was such a submissive that it was weird to think of her owning a slave at all. But as the Goblin Demon was a trainer at PMU, she naturally had to have a Pokegirl that she had sexually dominated into slavery. Her slave girl was a Jewel Rabbit Girl named Aurora. That slave was powered by rock and fairy magic, which Damian would have thought meant that she could have escaped from Esmeralda's domination fairly easily. Damian had felt what fairy magic did to dark magic aspected trainers like Esmeralda and himself, and he didn't think dominating a fairy aspected Pokegirl would be safe or simple. His approach to bullying Lucinda was cautious for that exact reason. Still, Aurora's white hair only partially obscured the thick slave collar that she wore without apparent complaint.

Another woman he'd had sex with without first meeting her slave was Robin. The Fire Cow Witch had brought a leashed young woman named Pris. Pris had black stripes drawn across her eyes and elsewhere on her body, which was striking against her blond hair and fair skin. The fishnets she wore on her arms and legs seemed tailor made to draw attention to the black bands on her skin. She was a Rushing Ferret Girl, and she pulled herself to heavy breathing against her mistress' leash and collar. Whichever direction she was pointed, she rushed forward until her collar pulled at her neck and harsh sounds came out of her throat.

Samantha's slaves Madison and Jeanie were both present, dressed in the simple slave-standard of underwear and high heels. Both blond slaves had been dressed for fuckability, something that augmented the apparent status of their mistress. Anyone looking at an owner flaunting sexy and blatantly fuckable slaves would naturally see that mistress as dominant and be submissive toward them. Sometimes a dominant would be propositioned by submissives eager to be dominated simply by the power of advertisement. Samantha's two pieces of fuck meat would juice up the pussy of many a sub who had no choice but to imagine themselves fucked into slavery upon seeing the beautiful results of the Tapir Witch's training. Damian looked at them carefully because they were dressed like they worked in a strip club, and he noticed that Samantha's Madison looked very similar to Robin's Pris. He wondered if they had been cousins or something before they became Pokegirls. There was a substantial genetic component to who transformed into a Pokegirl and who did not, so it wouldn't be strange for two Pokegirls to be closely related.

He was gratified to see Paige hanging out with Robin and Samantha. The Bibliophile had her own Pokegirl slave, a Shikigami named Fawn. Fawn's face was literally painted on, which made her look like she was wearing a Halloween costume.

Not everyone who had arrived was happy to see Damian. There were several Witches in the Mathemagic class, and most of them shared Rini's negative opinion of him sodomizing Witches and training them as ass to mouth bitches. He didn't know most of their names, as they tended to avoid him. What surprised him was that there were Witches from the other Mathemagic class, the one that met in the evenings, who seemed to know and resent him. The field trip was organized by Professor Agnesi, and there were two whole classes of hers that were invited. It was a Saturday, so not everyone could come, but attendance at such things was pretty high at Pocket Monster University. Who wouldn't want to go to lectures and class trips when the curriculum had so much nudity in it?

Rini herself arrived not only with her own slaves, but with two of her coven members who were from the other class. A blue haired woman with twin tails and a brown haired woman with a bob and two long locks. Rini pointed him out to them, and both Witches looked like they'd chewed a grapefruit rind.

The men from Class Two didn't seem nearly as polarizing. Archie the Artist and Dexter the Sensei both seemed popular with the ladies. The two redheaded men had their own harems of slaves, of course. Archie had come with two slaves, one blond and the other with black hair. Dexter had come with three lithe slaves dressed in leotards, one African American, one Asian American, and the third one pale and blond. Aside from the five slaves, the two men were the objects of attention for more than half a dozen trainers, a reminder of how scarce a commodity dick was at Pocket Monster University.

Some of the students from Class Two were also in Damian's Alchemy class. Joy, the student and not her very similar looking cousin who worked a the health center, was there with her slave, and Matilda had come with all three Pokegirls that belonged to her. Damian greeted them cordially. Matilda's slaves wanted to rub themselves on Damian's slaves, it was very cute.

All told, there were about fifty freshmen, with just over a hundred Pokegirls. Professor Agnesi flew in and did a head count. Having determined that there were enough attendees, she gave them the general idea. First, they would go to two of the large display halls, then they'd break for lunch, then they'd meet up again in a third display hall, and finally form smaller groups and tackle some of the smaller exhibit areas. It was really a full day at the museum, and there promised to be a lot of math.

At the front door, they were greeted by four security guards, which seemed like kind of a lot for a building that was already on campus.

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The Hall of Historical Pokeballs, or The Ballroom as it was sometimes called, was the first place Professor Agnesi had instructed them to go. One thing that immediately jumped out at Damian was how many of the Pokeballs simply weren't very ball-like. Intellectually he'd known that a Pokeball didn't have to be spherical, but the math got pretty funky when making them into other shapes. A display case showed ancient Chinese Pokeballs that were a stack of wooden plaques, a set of beads, a sheathed sword, and a lidded bowl. Each was a container of sorts, and to the extent that things could go inside them, a Pokegirl who had been rendered unconscious or enslaved could be trapped within. A casual check with his Pokedex revealed that each contained a Demon of one type or another. Regardless of how many centuries had passed, a Fish Demon could be unleashed by untying the beads, and a demonic catgirl could be unleashed by unsheathing the sword. If any of those Demons had ever accepted an owner, their trainer would have been dead many generations in the past, and an immediate rampage could be expected should any of them be released in the modern era.

"Can you imagine?" Willow gushed, looking at the ancient prisons. "A Pokeball that's a work of art, a display of the owner's craft and will that the Pokegirl is forced to reside in. This Snail Demon Pokegirl was so... so... owned. Her mistress painted her onto those pieces of wood, and she became the art of her mistress. That's so romantic." Of course, the Demons had been sealed away so long ago that no one really knew if they'd ever become the pussy-slaves of any mistress; but Willow's imagination had filled her own pussy with syrup and there was no way she was going to let any but actually get in the way of her horny speculation. The tall, green haired woman put her hand on her mistress' shoulder. "Mistress Addie, would you like to design a Pokeball for me? All the other slaves would be so jealous. They'd see that my owner-wife had molded my bonds as much as she'd molded my soul." Willow rustled in excitement at the prospect.

Adelaide looked at the ancient craftsmanship. It was in its way primitive, having been made with crude tools the crafters had probably had to make themselves. She could probably do better herself, using tools of much finer precision in work areas that had better light, better clamps, better cleanliness. On the other hand, whatever woman had made the sword had been making swords for longer than Adelaide had been alive. There was a weight of experience that could be felt in every compositional choice. "I would love for my wife to go into a Pokeball I designed. It's just... a big responsibility. Kero." Her mind raced to all the ways she could imprison her beloved, and felt on the verge of a panic attack from all the possible choices. Whatever she bound her lover with needed to be perfect. She loved Willow so much, and her brain spun in circles with worry over putting her into a Pokeball that was wrong, insufficient, aesthetically poor. At the moment, she had a standard issue starter ball that she'd been given in high-school. It was sentimental in the sense that it was what Willow had submitted to after Adelaide had licked her to orgasm for the first time, but that memory was horrible. Willow had been drunk, crying in anger and shame, calling her names, and calling herself names. She hated the memories that Pokeball engendered in her, but she loved the Pokegirl she had enslaved and bound into it.

The Dryad pulled her mistress into her side and lovingly stroked her. "I'm so glad you own me, Mistress Addie. Whatever you confine me in is going to be wonderful, because it will come from you." And just like that, Adelaide's anxiety was calmed. She snuggled into her slave. Slightly behind them, Pippi pathetically watched her owner's public display of affection. The Pathetic Fish Girl wanted her mistress to design her a prison of her own as well, but she knew her pussy wasn't good enough to deserve such treatment.

"Mmmmm?" Beatrice hummed at her own owner. Her compound eyes were unreadable, of course, but Damian had a pretty good idea of what she wanted.

He thought he might have a real future in alchemy, but sculpture and design weren't remotely his strong suits. "I'm not an artist, Beatrice. It's not that I don't think you deserve a beautiful and personalized Pokeball. I mean, you absolutely do. But I'm not the person to design it." He put his finger in front of her mouth and she dutifully sucked on it, humming happily at the chance to publicly display her submission. "You're right though, a some point we need to get you a forever ball. We could do a whole ceremony with it, maybe put you in during the summer so that my mom can see your first confinement." The timbre of the humming and enthusiasm of the sucking indicated that the Bee Pokegirl approved of the idea. Approved of it very much.

Around the hall were other displays of Pokeballs from Sumeria, Aztlan, Egypt, Rome, Mali, Cambodia, and Japan. The time periods involved were actually quite different, the Aztec boxes being six hundred years old, while the Sumerian jars were six thousand years old. It was humbling to remember that Pokegirls had been being fucked into submission since before the inventions of writing and bronze and the techniques of sexual domination were still very recognizable even during his own life. It didn't seem like there was any particular rhyme or reason for the regions that were being displayed, it was almost certainly a mere accident of what the museum had managed to get their hands on. The enthusiasms of the donors had presumably made much more of an impression than any broader pedagogical point.

Damian had only barely started reading the descriptions of Aztec techniques to build boxes that could contain the Bat and Bird women of Meso America when the teacher started a lecture. She was primarily interested in discussing how ancient Pokeballs had been tuned into magitech items that were capable of holding Pokegirls. Where modern Pokeballs were calculated to sub-millimeter precision before they were made, archaic Pokeballs could only be calculated very roughly, and were then modified until they functioned. It was why the ancient Pokeballs were all covered in etchings and adornments. The chances of them working properly with initial smooth surfaces were vanishingly low. It was a bit ironic that the simple and industrially sterile look that came on mass market magitech was an aesthetic that people had been trying to achieve for thousands of years, and that the gorgeous baroque filigree of ancient works had been a necessity that the people of the time thought they had to put up with.

The big revelation was in the how of the tuning. The old magitech was of course made by trainers, or at least by people who would be called trainers in the modern day. And that meant that they were Pocket Monsters themselves, and that meant Pokeballs would react to them. During the decoration, the overall dimensional transformation would be created by the fractal nature of the adornments, and in so doing the creator would themselves begin to feel the pull of the Pokeball. It was a reminder that Damian could himself be captured in a Pokeball given the right circumstances. He wanted to avoid that kind of thing.

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The next place they were to meet up was the Fossil Paradise exhibit, which was on the other side of the complex. There were a number of ways to get there, and students were encouraged to take different paths so that the exhibits in between could still be enjoyed along the way. He doubted that anyone would enjoy any painting or historical artifacts if they were traveling in a flock of a hundred and fifty trainers and Pokegirls. As it was, a number of women had chosen to take the path that Damian had done, in many cases specifically because it was the path that Damian was taking.

"Is that a bitching post?" Samantha asked. Sure enough, it was a working replica of a nineteenth century bitching post, a place where subs could be left for later pickup. They were also places were the submission curious could bind themselves such that they could be found and dominated by anyone dominant enough to do so. In the Old West, there weren't any claiming parties outside of the rowdiest of towns, and so any submissive looking for an owner would bind themselves to a bitching post and wait to be dominated and taken. They were also used in less savory ways where submissives were sometimes bound to bitching posts against their will and then publicly broken to sexual slavery.

It was a part of history that was grossly over represented in fiction. If one went by western movies and TV shows, it would seem there was a bitching post in every cow town, mining camp, and whistle stop from New Orleans to San Francisco. Even in westerns aimed at children there would always be a scene where some damsel was voluntarily or involuntarily strapped to a bitching post, the only difference was that the camera would cut away and leave the action to the imaginations of the parents. In reality, only larger towns and cities would have a bitching post, and many submissives would have to take a train to get to a place where they could be publicly dominated and find someone to collar them.

Bitching posts were still used, of course, but no longer in any official capacity. Since they weren't 'real' anymore, people could set them up wherever they wanted, and they did! A temporary bitching post would frequently be seen at taking parties and bachelorette parties, and more permanent bitching posts were often installed at taming salons and sex dungeons. Damian remembered when his mom had come home furious that someone at her office had set up a temporary bitching post in the break room of the office she worked at. Karen had called it an "attractive nuisance," something that was simply there to tempt people who worked there into becoming sex slaves. Damian had been confused as to why his mom had been so angry about it, seeing as it wasn't pretending to be anything else. She had come home after work fuming about it tricking interns and junior staff into sexual subservience, but Damian never understood what the trick was supposed to be.

At the museum they did indeed have a usable bitching post, and it was a replica of one of the largest, the one put up in Houston in eighteen seventy-five. It had room to tie up six submissives on each side. "Um... do we have time to get tied to the post?" Robin's earnest question was a matryoshka doll that contained so many other questions. Like, did anyone want to be tied to the post? Or perhaps, was it safe to tie anyone to the post? Or even the most basic of needed clarifications: who exactly was the we in that question? But the Fire Witch just blew past all of that, as if it was simply a foregone conclusion that someone would get bound to the post if there was enough time for that to happen.

Damian checked his Pokedex. They were actually doing pretty OK for time. "Um... yeah, I guess." He shrugged.

"Oh good," Esmeralda responded, before turning to her own bejeweled slave, "Aurora, it's time for us to get whipped." The two of them stuck their hands and faces through the loops and pulled the cord that ratcheted them into bondage.

Samantha reached over and slapped Paige on the tit. "Get onto that post, Paige. It's time for you to get bitched." The black haired woman shuddered at the command, but obediently attached herself to the pole. Her Shikigami Fawn folded herself into the loops as well. With two more slots available on that side, Robin and her Pokegirl slave Pris got in. All six women were clothed, but their butts were facing out and they were powerless to prevent any interested party from disrobing or molesting them. The Tapir Witch put her arms around the shoulders of her own two slaves. "Jeanie? Madison? It's our turn to get on the post." As they attached themselves on the other side, Samantha faced Robin and Madison faced Pris. The two Pokegirls had radically different makeup on their faces and quite dissimilar hair styles, but they looked so alike apart from that.

With just three slots left, there was some expectation for Adelaide to make a decision. "Do I have to go onto the bitching post?" She asked Damian.

He shook his head. "Of course not. I mean, Pippi should probably get bound on the bitching post, because she's pathetic and deserves that kind of treatment. But if you and Willow would rather do some whipping than get whipped, then the last two slots could have Barbara and Hinako strapped into them." He could tell it was a hard question for her to answer, so he casually manhandled Pippi into the straps while the redheaded girl flailed and blubbered pathetically.

Adelaide keroed in thought. She didn't not ponder for that long according to the clock, but it felt like a long time because the amount of time they had to play BDSM games before the next presentation was set to start was pretty limited. "I think Willow and I should do the spanking, rather than be spanked." It seemed that she had finished, but then she remembered that she needed to add additional information. "I agree that Pippi is where she needs to be. She's weird and pathetic, and getting strapped to the bitching post just makes sense for her." The Fish Pokegirl attempted to plead for release, and Willow spanked her painfully on the back of her denim shorts until her weeping became wordless and she became resigned to her fate.

Realizing what was expected of them, both Damian's Bat Girl and his Spider Girl stuck themselves into the loops and were soon attached to the bitching post side by side. With all slots filled, it was time to get some domination in. Beatrice flew from rump to rump, pulling skirts up and shorts down so that every rosebud could be inspected and every slit slapped.

Adelaide had a paddle that she had purchased originally for use on her fiancée, but it was at least as effective on the offered butt cheeks of her fellow students and their enslaved Pokegirls. She gave her own slave Pippi a solid smack on the ass, and then she moved on to paddling Barbara and Hinako, two slaves whose owner had seemingly given her approval to spank. Willow used her own plant magic to grow a branch to poke and cane women with. All she had to do was touch it to Pippi's anus, and the Pokegirl let out a pathetic squeal. It was super effective.

Damian unraveled his own lash of submission. He started with the first women to affix themselves to the bitching post: Esmeralda and Aurora. The lash was not very effective from a magic standpoint, but the submissive trainer and Pokegirl were very happy to be on the receiving end nonetheless. They wiggled their rumps and sighed in contentment, being lashed on the bitching post was rapidly becoming a cherished memory for them. Esmeralda was already planning ahead to convince Courtney to take her to a smaller and more intimate bitching post. At least, that's what she would do if she got released from the bitching post without a slave collar. Stories abounded of submissives who became completely enslaved before being released from the pole, so that was by no means a sure thing. Just thinking about that possibility got Esmeralda so slave-hot that ectoplasm dribbled from her lower mouth.

Lashing the butts of Paige and Fawn was no less satisfying. Samantha had made Paige accept certain truths about being lashed by dark magic, and the experience made her realize that the shadowed man who appeared in the possible futures that Morgana had shown her must be Damian. In retrospect it was obvious. And with that realization, Paige came. Hard. Fawn required a bit more whipping, and when she was ready, the Shikigami's pussy sprayed the floor with pussy ink after just the tiniest push from Damian's hand.

Moving on to the naked ass of Robin, she pushed it out toward him, relaxing her sphincter in anticipation. "Sir, I know the rule for Witches. If it goes in my ass, it goes in my mouth. I will honor your training, Sir." She held as still as she could, but Damian could tell she was a horny little thing that wanted to cum submissively on a cock. He gave her upturned ass a few lashes, and each one dialed up her horniness and her submission in equal measure. She was soon quivering with need. "My... my asshole is ready, Sir!"

Damian grabbed her hips. "I know it is, Robin. You've taken so well to your training. You know the rule for Witches, you have a cute asshole that wants nothing more than to be dominated by my cock." Robin mooed her agreement with his assessment. "But you're on a bitching post, aren't you Robin? It's not your decision how you get fucked, it's mine." Robin's moo took on a worried pitch. "And right now, I want to fuck a pussy. Your pussy!" Her wet folds parted for him easily, and the hall of the museum echoed with schlicks and moos as Damian thrust into her again and again. Her moo of orgasm came rapidly, and he rewarded his Cow by filling her with milk. He looked at Robin's slave, and saw that she was watching with wide eyes made all the more obvious by the black stripe across her face. "Do you like what you see, Pris?"

Embarrassed, Pris looked away. "Sorry. Just peaking." Her desires triggered his heart sense, and Damian smiled at the back of her head. He did a quick check with his Pokedex and determined that the lash wouldn't be his most effective means of dominating her. He cast an eye on the rest of the group, checking in on what fun they were having.

Pointing across to the other side of the bitching post, Damian caught the Dryad's attention. "Willow, can you use your branch as a strap-on to fuck Madison's Fish pussy?" He'd said it like a question, but since they both knew the answer, it was obviously more of a suggestion. Willow could of course poke her branch from anywhere, and if she stuck one end in her own sex it would function as a double-dildo. To his own Bee Pokegirl, he had different instructions. "Beatrice? Esmeralda and Aurora didn't get to cum yet. Could you fix that?" Beatrice hummed in acknowledgment, and she scooped some honey out of her pussy onto her fingers. Aurora may have been resistant to the dominating effects of Damian's lash, but she had no such protection against the aphrodisiac properties of Beatrice's honey.

When Willow poked her branch into Madison's wettest hole, the blond Mermaid made a dolphinesque noise. It was super effective. Encouraged by the response, and tickled in her own pussy, the Dryad's calm humping soon turned to a frenzied storm. "So good! Pippi! Madison's pussy is so much better than yours! I had no idea! I love it! I love fucking Fish pussy! Except yours, Pippi. Obviously your pussy isn't good enough." Frustrated and defeated, Pippi cried pitiful tears.

Madison's face became an orgasmic mask, and she looked straight ahead into the face of Pris. Despite the black lines, the Rushing Pokegirl's face was almost a mirror. Damian had put her in a choke hold, and it was super effective. One arm under her armpit and across her neck, his other reaching back and down to aggressively finger her helpless pussy. The Ferret Girl could do nothing but cum under his ministrations.

When he walked around to the other side, he saw where Adelaide had been hiding out. It turned out that she'd been on her knees behind Barbara and Hinako, rubbing her elongated tongue all over their reddened asses and between their cheeks into their slave-pussies. Damian was glad to see his roommate getting along so well with his slaves. With nothing much to add, he focused his attention on the two women who hadn't gotten the attention they needed since attaching themselves to the bitching post. "Jeanie? Samantha? Do you have needy, submissive assholes?"

The Pokegirl just groaned, but the trainer was much more eloquent. "Oh, yes Sir! The rule for Witches has been trained into me, trained into my ass! I've been teaching your truth to my slaves. Jeanie knows that if it goes in her ass that it goes in her mouth. I've been such a Good Girl for you, Sir. I've been making more Good Girls. Teaching them your truth. Teaching them the rule. Training their slutty assholes!" If her litany of submission was supposed to get his dick hard, it was definitely successful. Crack! He lashed her butt. It was super effective. "Ooooooh!" Samantha squealed like a stuck tapir, flexing her butt in anticipation of her impending sodomization. Two more lashes came down on her hungry asshole, reducing her to a quivering lump of desire.

Damian's cock nestled between Samantha's ass cheeks. Hot dogging her. Taunting her. His pussy-lubed cock head was so close to her sphincter, if she hadn't been tethered to the bitching post, she could have pushed herself back onto his flagpole and claimed herself for his empire. As it was, all she could do was grip his shaft with her butt cheeks and moan. And then his penis pulled away from her rosebud, and she could do nothing but whine at his absence. Crack! His lash came down on Jeanie's butt. It was super effective. "Oh! Mistress!" Crack! "Oooooh! He's spanking me!" Crack! "He's dominating my ass! My butthole can't refuse him!" It really couldn't. Damian's cockhead knocked on her back door and was granted immediate entry. "Ooooooooh... I'm being fucked, Mistress. He's going in and out. In and out of my asshole. Ooooh... I'm gonna cum. His cock is going to make me cum with my ass!"

Her owner agreed. "Do it Jeanie! Cum like the slave you are! This is what your training was for. You'll cum from being dominated in your butthole, and then you're going to take his cock in your mouth. From now on, you're not just a slave, you're an ass to mouth slave!" Samantha's tirade was interrupted, as once Jeanie started screaming out her orgasm, Damian pulled out from the Pokegirl's butthole and moved back to Samantha's unfilled hole. One more crack of the whip put it into perspective for the Tapir Witch. "I'm ready, Damian Sir! You've trained my butthole! You own it now!" His heart sense was lit up like a shopping mall Life Day tree, but he didn't need it to hear her explicit invitation. His dick plunged into her gaping abyss and she cried out in joy and pain. "Ow! Oh! Ooooooh!" Her painful orgasm made her bleat and shudder. It was plenty for Damian as well, and he spurted a load of semen into the large breasted Witch.

"Alright," Damian sighed, his PP and his physical stamina almost exhausted, "Jeanie and Samantha, you know the rules. I'm going to take you off the bitching post so that you can submit with your mouth now that you've submitted with your ass." He gave both blond and brunete encouraging slaps on their butt cheeks, and began reaching for the latches.

With her neck and wrists bound to the pole, Samantha could do nothing but wait to be released. "Oh. Damian, Sir. Is this where you collar me?" If the latches were undone in the right order, the neck binding would come off the bitching pole, still latched onto the submissive's neck. The remaining latch could even be padlocked, making it into a slave collar rather than a training collar. Such trickery no longer had the force of law, the courts having eventually decided that voluntarily submitting to a bitching post did not automatically imply submitting to more permanent enslavement. But the psychological effects of such collarings were indisputably substantial. Many dominants and submissives still treated the slave collar from a bitching post as real even if the legal system no longer agreed.

Shaking his head, Damian released the buckle that gave Samantha her uncollared freedom. "Not today, Samantha. We have two more lectures to go to." When Jeanie and Samantha were freed, they obediently shared cock-worshiping duties, running their tongues up and down his shaft. When their mouths met at his mushroom head, they shared a kiss and swapped some globs of his semen back and forth. He put his hands possessively on their heads and they smiled up at him. He had used up almost all of his PP, but fortunately he didn't expect to be called upon to do any more magic or combat on the trip.

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They were technically late, but while the guest lecturers had already started introductions, they hadn't gotten down to anything serious yet. There were two archaeologists, one being miscellaneously Southeast Asian and named Dr. Fox, while the other was nonspecifically British and named Dr. Croft. Both were breasty enough that they were obviously Pocket Monsters themselves.

"The last Nihilego is in captivity," Dr. Fox explained, "the galaxy is at peace." Her flippant description brought a few laughs from the assembled students and Pokegirls. "But seriously, every Pokegirl today is born apparently human and becomes a monster. Before humans walked the Earth, there were magical ultrabeasts that filled the same niches as Pokegirls do today." She pointed to a lump of rock that looked vaguely like an umbrella. "This is a fossilized Nihilego, which is an energy draining Parasite from the ancient past that was not unlike a flying jellyfish."

Taking over the presentation, Dr. Croft began speaking with an accent that sounded British enough to Damian. "Fossilized Pocket Monsters, like victims of petrification can be restored to flesh. If they awaken in the modern era, they can be subdued through physical combat or sexual domination and placed into Pokeballs." She gestured at a machine that looked like a raygun from a black and white science fiction serial. "Once fossilized, an ultrabeast loses its magical power over time. We can restore it to life by filling it with magic power again, but we can also determine how old a fossil is by checking how much power is left in it."

That appeared to be the cue for Professor Agnesi to talk about half lives and proportional rates of change. "To determine the age of a fossil, we need to know how much PP was in it in the first place, what the rate of magical decay is, and the remaining quantity of power." The exponential math of the half lives seemed trivial to Damian, but the rest of it was horribly complex. Different fossilization materials lost their PP at different rates, causing them to have different half lives. Making it even more complicated, the amount of ambient magical energy was different during various eras of the planet. So an ultrabeast from a highly mana rich period would have started with more power and an ultrabeast that was fossilized in a less magically porous medium would retain more of its magical power. So it wasn't quite as simple as fossils that had less remaining magic being older than ones with more.

The whole situation reminded Damian of his own experience releasing and then dominating Hinako. He raised his hand. "So, um... if we can sexually dominate unfossilized ultrabeasts in the same way that we can sexually dominate fully corrupted Pokegirls, does that mean we can uncorrupt them and turn them into near-human women?" Other students looked at him like he was a crazy person.

The two archaeologists exchanged nervous glances. Dr. Fox adjusted her lab coat and answered. "Basically... yes." There was, of course, furor and hubbub. "Obviously a prehistoric ultrabeast never had an original human body for it to be returned to, but once they are dominated by a trainer their directed evolution tends to be towards resembling beautiful human women. Your Pokedexes will detect this as a Pokegirl's corruption going down, despite the fact that in reality the ultrabeast was already in their natural form and the changes wrought by the trainer in that instance are analogous to corruption effects." That revelation hit Damian like a philosophical sucker punch. He had made quite extensive changes to Beatrice and Hinako, and while they seemed happy with their new existence, it was disturbing to think that he wasn't really restoring them to humanity so much as creating a new humanity within them. Given Beatrice's seeming indifference toward learning more about her original human life, it probably shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did.

Wracked as he was by trepidation and guilt, he didn't take in nearly as much as he should have about the fossilized ultrabeasts they had on display. There was a Scylla, some kind of prehistoric Chicken, a Trilobyte, a Turtle, a Saber-tooth Tiger, a Shark, and a Dragon. By the time they were talking about the different magic power permeabilities of tar, amber, sandstone, and volcanic rock, Damian had completely checked out. Monsters from different eras were placed next to one another because of similarities of rock formations. Dr. Croft stressed repeatedly that Dragons and Saber-tooth Tigers did not actually live during the same time period. At least, not originally. Obviously if both fossils were revived, there'd be a Saber-tooth and a Dragon living at the same time.

When lunchtime came, Damian was absolutely ready for it.

####

The museum courtyard had a cafe that served food as well as wine and coffee-related beverages. It was not a fantastic menu, and the lines were very long. Damian had two slaves who could fly, and so he offered to have them fly over to a dining hall with the dining hall cards of other students in order to come back with some to-go bag lunches. It was an option on the weekends to be simply handed a sack lunch rather than go inside and eat at the tables like a civilized person. He offered the assistance of Beatrice and Barbara to bring back snack sacks to all his friends who had gone to the bitching post experience with him. While he was at it, he also offered such services to Joy, Matilda, and even Rini. He had to think for a while as to whether it would be better for Beatrice to fetch food for Rini or not. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that Courtney would be upset if she found out that he had snubbed her friend. Damian wasn't the only one offering the service, as Dexter was sending his own slaves to fly off to get food for some of the students and Pokegirls in Class Two.

Since each dining hall card told the dining hall bouncer how many registered slaves each trainer had, cards like Damian's, Matilda's, and Rini's delivered four sacks each. It took Beatrice and Barbara two trips to bring all the lunches. Damian allowed himself the limited pettiness of giving Rini and her slaves their food last, but he didn't think she noticed. Each bag had a fairly random assortment of foodstuffs that would travel in a bag. Damian's had a sandwich that had three cheeses, tomato slices, chopped olives, mayonnaise, and dijon mustard. Also in the bag was a figy berry, a durian soda, and a lava cookie for dessert. Most other bags had something similar, though each sandwich seemed to be different and the selection of drinks, fruits, and dessert items were likewise gachas. Some trades needed to happen, but Damian's own Pokegirls were totally happy to receive the more dubious sandwiches in trade.

"It's a good thing we're eating lunch when we are," Barbara remarked, "there's a storm coming in fast, so in a few hours we wouldn't be able to bring the lunch bags in." Damian looked up at the section of blue sky he could see from the museum courtyard. The wind was pretty intense, so he could imagine that the weather could change quickly. Even if he couldn't see the clouds that the eyeless Pokegirl spoke of.

The courtyard was easily large enough for everyone to eat outside, but there was also an area that was inside where meals could be had. Damian sat out on the grass, and all the women he'd arranged lunch bags for came to sit in his area, even Rini and her three slaves. And then her two coven members came with cafe food having four slaves between them. Other groups formed, though naturally there were a few trainers who chose to eat alone with their Pokegirls. More than half of the people found themselves in one of three groups. Damian was essentially picnicking with thirty-one women: ten trainers and twenty-one enslaved Pokegirls. In a way it underlined how little had changed since high-school. Back then he had enslaved Lianne and Angelica who were from two very different cliques, and during lunch period he would take his slaves to sit with one group or the other or just find a place of seclusion to sit and eat with just his slaves. Here he was in university, and everyone around him had magic powers and everyone else had slaves and that part hadn't changed at all. He still got to pick a clique to sit with or just sneak off to be secluded with his sex slaves.

He took a bite of his figy berry. He didn't like figy berries very much, feeling that they were basically just heat with a weird texture, and his lack of familiarity with them meant that he wasn't sure if the one he was eating was ripe or not. He pretty much always thought they were way too soft, whether they were over-ripe, under-ripe, or nominally just right. But he ate it anyway, despite his misgivings. Not only did he need vitamins generally, but figy berries restored vitality, and he could really feel himself become ready to unload more jizz. He was blessedly distracted from the aftertaste of the fruit by a brewing argument between Samantha and Sammy.

Despite similarities in their names, the two Witches were very different. Samantha had light brown hair that was sometimes called blond and she kept it styled like a housewife from the sixties. Meanwhile, Sammy had blue hair that she kept up in twin tales as if to emphasize that she wasn't yet nineteen. Their bodies were likewise night and day, where Samantha's thiccness was emphasized by her massive hypnotits and curvaceous booty, Sammy had tiny breasts and a nearly flat butt that didn't throw off her youthful skinniness vibe at all. "Sammy, you're a Witch," Samantha explained, "and Witches need to have their buttholes trained. If you're serious about being a hunter, you need to start ass to mouth training right now."

The pink eyed, blue haired Witch was angry and horrified. "I'm a purity fighter, you stupid big titted cow whore!" She gestured with a gloved hand to her small but feminine chest. "My virgin butthole is never getting penetrated by Demon cock. I'm going to fight the Demons, not get fucked by them! Not like your whore-ass, that has already been defiled. I should blast you with a pretty heart boomerang all the way to pretty space so you can learn some fucking modesty." She pulled herself indignantly up to her full height, which even with her arcs of hair still came short of Samantha's five foot seven.

A furious Samantha opened her blouse, allowing her sweater puppies to roam free. "Time to learn some Truth, Sammy!" Her massive melons jiggled distractingly.

Trapped like a rabbit in the booblights of an oncoming hooter vehicle, Sammy's pink eyes dilated and her jaw went slack. "learn... truth..." She mumbled. The hypnotits weren't very effective, but while her fairy magic protected her, the difference in willpower between them was substantial. Hypnotitnation wasn't immediate, but it didn't look like it was in doubt.

Samantha cupped her hypnotits and focused their power directly into the pretty blue haired girl's brain. "Your asshole is submissive. It wants to submit. It needs to submit!"

"Oh no," Sammy groaned with dismay, "my ass... submissive ass..." She wriggled, having contracted a horny itch on her backside. But her eyes stayed locked on the powerful boob flesh that jiggled before her.

Smiling in triumph, Samantha pressed her chest closer to the other Witch's face. The globes of breast soon eclipsed anything else that might have passed across Sammy's vision. "You're going to cum when your submissive ass gets fucked. Your submissive ass is going to be dominated, and you're going to have an orgasm. Such a submissive orgasm, when you cum from being ass fucked. You're going to be butt-fucked into submission, and your submissive ass will be so grateful. Your ass wants you to cum. Your ass wants you to submit."

A single tear rolled down Sammy's cheek. "ass... submit... cum... butt-fuck..." She probably would have crawled farther down the road to submission, but the process was interrupted by another pink eyed Witch slapping Samantha on the tits. Samantha's tits jostled back and forth, it had been a pretty hard tit slap.

"Cut that out!" Rini was furious, her entire body going into a fighting stance, from her calf-boots to her hair buns. "I'll make you say refresh, Shame-Witch!" While the Tapir Witch's hypnotic breasts still swayed this way and that, Rini seemingly effortlessly maintained eye contact. There was no shortage of willpower in that Witch.

Samantha's nose twitched. "Why you - hurk!" Strong, masculine hands covered her mouth and one of her nipples.

Damian whisper-shouted right in the Tapir Witch's ear. "Stop it." He stood up to his full height and pulled her back into his chest. "I'm sorry, Rini. No more fighting, OK? No one needs to get heart blasted. We're all at the museum together, there's another lecture to get through, right?" He pulled Samantha's blouse closed, absent mindedly groping her chest protrusions while doing it.

Rini let out an exasperated sigh. "Sure. Fine." She turned back to her coven member. "You OK, Sammy?"

The blue haired woman tugged and straightened the backside of her short, pleated skirt. "Yeah... um... I'm fine." There was something important that she had forgotten, but she was sure it would come to her eventually. It was almost time for the next lecture, and she could try to remember it later.

####

The Hall of Ancient Magitech, or Ham Room as it was sometimes called, had some truly wild things in it. Many ancient artifacts had been completely superseded by modern industrial magitech. The so-called Rod of Rulership was once passed from queen to queen as a marker of office, but its actual powers were that of a mid-tier taming rod. Magitech engineers didn't make objects that were far beyond it in power because there were harsh government regulations on making them, not because they were actually incapable of doing so. On the other hand, some ancient artifacts were still impressive because they would be impractical to reproduce. Many treasures of antiquity had taken thousands of hours to craft, being the life work of some long-dead artisan. Any that modern magitech hadn't figured out an economically viable means of producing in a reasonable amount of time simply may as well be irreplaceable. Some had been made with materials that were no longer available due to ethical considerations or simple uniqueness, and those treasures were literally irreplaceable.

Damian looked at a jewel. It was apparently a shirikodama that had been taken from The Puppet Empress. She was so called because the Kappa who had harvested it from her then used it to control her. It was a beautiful jewel, but no one would condone using royalty as gem farms in the modern day. He looked at a mirror made from polished obsidian. It was something that could be used to increase corruption, potentially turning someone into a Pokegirl. Regardless of the ease or difficulty in making such an item, Damian thought there was no possible use for it. There were already too many Pokegirls for the number of trainers, making more people into Pokegirls just meant more Pokegirls who needed to be imprisoned or killed. He was just about to say something disparaging about it when he noticed who had donated it. "Wait a minute, Rini? Was this mirror donated by your mom?" It was a ridiculous question to ask, and yet Rini was precisely the kind of person who was important enough that it looped back around to being a reasonable question.

"Hmmm?" The pink haired Rabbit Witch looked over at Damian's find. "Oh, yes. It was originally used as a punishment. Those who opposed the priestess would get turned into monsters and then either enslaved or driven into the wilderness. Later it was used by a cult of Clown Demons to make fodder monsters. My mother's hunter team shut it down, and donated the mirror to a museum." She stood next to him, explaining her own mother's heroic accomplishments without sneers or threats. He couldn't ever remember her being so polite to him.

"That's cool," he said, and while her pink eyes searched his face for signs of sarcasm, she found none because he actually meant it, "something like this is obviously important in the history of magitech, but it's also dangerous and immoral to actually use. I think a museum is the best place for this kind of thing." He gave her a thumbs up.

Rini was used to effusive praise, she received a lot of it. Mostly from Crystal Millennialists who thought she was The Princess from prophetic scriptures. She also earned effusive praise. By being a prodigy, by acing tests, by going out for competitive sorcery, by winning at competitive sorcery. And yet Damian said some simple words of praise for her mom's moral choices and she became flustered. It was offensive to her. Damian was a Goat Demon who sodomized Witches. She didn't need his approval.

She was about to give Damian a piece of her mind when the teacher flew in and called for everyone's attention. "Around you is one of the most prestigious collections of pre-modern enchanted artifacts in North America." She flapped at various corners of the room. "Many of these items aren't reproducible using modern techniques, but not for the reason you might think!" She flapped at a case that proclaimed the item inside to to be a moon flute. "The moon flute was made from lunar stone, which is obviously rare on Earth. And the original artisan took a long time to make it, which would in turn be an onerous burden for a magitech engineer to undertake today. But the real reason we can't make any more of them is Math!" Professor Agnesi loved it whenever the answer to any question was 'Math.'

She went on the describe six unsolved math puzzles. Further, she explained that making a moon flute or a nightmare mirror was apparently equivalent to solving some mathematical postulates that had stumped mathemagicians for centuries. This was made all the more tantalizingly infuriating because someone had managed to make the physical objects through trial and error in the ancient past. That meant that the problems were solvable, since someone had managed to come to a solution using mana and stone, even though no one had managed to replicate the feat using ink and paper.

Someone asked about the shirikodama, because of course they did. That one wasn't a mathemagical mystery. It was just generally considered distasteful to harden a person's willpower into a crystal and then pull it out of them. It was considered a crime against humanity to do that, even to people who were going to be executed anyway.

When the lecture ended, Damian took it as a good time to go to the bathroom. As he walked off to find a toilet, he heard one of the other students complaining that her Pokedex wasn't getting any reception.

### End Chapter 23 ###

Next time we discuss whether Pocket Monster University is a Christmas Movie. I know some of you are disappointed that this chapter didn't show what Evelyn was doing during all of this but... you know it kind of did.

There will be a bit of a hiatus because both Fighting Them There and Stop Enslaving My Friends! Are getting chapters before Chapter 24 of PMU goes up. As always, ratings and comments are my only real motivation for writing and posting these things.