PMU: Damian's Story Ch. 24

This chapter includes unsupervised battles with feral Pokegirls, and is both more violent and has higher stakes violence than previous chapters.

Tags: Monster Girl, Harem, Slavery, BDSM, Witch, Puppetry, Museum, Violence, GameLit, Domination

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A downpour started. Dark clouds appeared in the sky and it started to rain heavily. The rain came down like pennies from a skyscraper, making harsh tapping sounds against the roof and windows. Samantha opened her Pokedex and got no bars of signal. It was unfortunate, but it was also improbable. The museum was on campus, and the cell tower coverage at Pocket Monster University was insanely good. Samantha knew that her Pokedex got two bars in the Formless Void. She looked around for Robin, for her coven sister Robin, and asked her about it.

Robin was a member of her coven, having accepted training from Damian after she saw Samantha's increasingly enthusiastic submission to the Demon trainer. Both had been anally trained, and could now orgasm from being sodomized by him. She felt close to Robin, almost like they were real sisters. In turn, they kind of looked like sisters. Both had hair that could pass for light brown or dark blond depending on lighting, both had massive tits. If they dressed the same, they might indeed be mistaken for blood family. Perhaps Sir Damian saw them as such when he had them naked, bound, and mooing for his cock.

When they compared their devices, it seemed that neither had any signal. It was an unnerving omen. They both looked to Damian for... guidance? Leadership? She wasn't sure what she wanted him to do for her, or why she was deferring to him at the moment. Regardless, he hadn't yet returned from the bathroom and she felt his absence. Surrounded by other students in the museum, she still felt isolated. The sky was bleeding outside, and she was cut off from the internet. It was like living in ancient history.

And then the lights went out, and it was like living before history even began.

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The dark skinned woman's pixelated wings shimmered and flashed with static. When she was concentrating on her work, her physical appearance glitched more. "The whole power plant should be down to N-Sixty-Four level graphics, but it could get as bad as the Sega Saturn. They'll have to take a time out to get their new quarterback in. That gives us some time to run any plays we want." She unplugged her link cable from the port in her forehead, allowing it to retract into her cyberdeck. "Without a link cable of their own, only self funded pay phones are gonna be talkable." She held up her own short range communicator in case there was any confusion as to what she meant.

"Thank you, Theodora." The speaker was a Succubus Goat Demon Pokegirl, with demonic wings and horns poking through her black hair and a black devilish tail poking out from just over her tight butt. She stood next to a Pokegirl who looked very similar to herself, though with larger breasts, wings, and horns. Desdemona looked back at her mother for confirmation, or at least apathy. She received the latter. It was good enough. It would have to be. Her mother had delegated this part of the mission briefing to her, and had yet to ridicule her. "How is the weather, Peach?"

A slow dance drifted to an end as a pink translucent woman finished her appeal to the sky. "The storm hath appeared. None shall fly in or out until the cloud's rage hath been quenched." She wobbled like a dessert in transit to the table, the partially transparent ball gown she wore doing little to hide her curves. Atop her head was a crown that looked like it was made of bone. In a way, it was.

Not all of the assembled Pokegirls were happy to give Desdemona their reports. "Thisss will not be a battle," the Toxic Lizard hissed, "thisss will be war. The hoo-monsss will never ssseassse their hunt for usss. When thisss line is crosssed, war will not end. Are you ssstrong enough to fight, girl? Ssstrong enough to fight forever? You are young, forever isss a long time for one sssuch asss you..." Her pheromones made her quite intimidating even without her burning gaze. The combination was enough to make most people crumble in submission. Desdemona was not most people, but it was still a lot to deal with.

Not knowing what to say to the challenge, Desdemona said nothing. She neither gave nor took any ground, and the two Demons locked eyes. Her mother spoke up dismissively. "Can't 'magin why you would not welcome any change my friend, see it come down." Evelyn's smile did not reach her eyes, but it did reach the intended audience. The challenge sputtered out like a flame snuffed.

Control reestablished, Desdemona caught the attention of Antonia and Karla, the Two-sided Hamster Pokegirls. She directed the sisters to take out the guards and shut off the power. The two of them put their arms around Theodora's waist and dragged her off with them. They looked much younger than the hacker due to the neotenous corruption effects of their Hamster natures, but the truth was that they were experienced mercenaries.

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Bathrooms on PMU campus were almost universally unisex, and that included the ones at the Museum of Pocket Monster History. Damian checked the stalls. Not just for occupancy, but also to make sure all three shells worked. The last thing he wanted was to commit himself to a bathroom stall only to find out there were only two working shells and he was going to end up soiling himself. He thought that Hinako could possibly make something functional out of silk, but he wanted to rejoin the group in a reasonably civilized manner in a reasonable amount of time.

Despite him having things completely under control, his Pokegirl slaves elected to stand at attention. And he was glad they were there, because the lights went out.

"Barbara," he alerted the Bibliophile Bat Girl, "could you echolocate the shells for me? It's gone dark."

"Of course, Master." Barbara didn't have any eyes and navigated the world through her sensitive hearing and sonar emanations. The lights going out hadn't phased her at all.

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"I'm sorry," the security guard stated, "but the museum is about to close." The museum lobby was empty save for the four security guards and the three Pokegirls had sauntered in the front door talking loudly about basketball. It wasn't a strange thing for Pokegirls to come to the museum unattended, many trainers would send their slaves on missions to go look up information at the library or the museum while they worked on papers. That all three Pokegirls were uncollared scarcely warranted notice, as many students waited to collar their slaves until they could make a special event out of it. Some Pokegirl slaves remained uncollared until after graduation. Some trainers even expressed their ownership of their slaves without collars at all. Of course, these particular Pokegirls were completely feral, but that wasn't immediately obvious to the security guards.

The two Hamster Pokegirls smiled. "Oh, we know," Antonia said with an ironic menace, "I imagine it will be closed for a long time." The security guards didn't even have the chance to realize how much danger they were in before they were all zapped with chain lightning.

All four guards collapsed, whether they were dying or merely severely injured was an uninteresting question to the sisters. The two small women fist bumped their power gloves and began crawling over the desk. Their girlish figures were somewhat comical as they wiggled their butts to pull themselves over once their feet no longer touched the floor. Theodora knew the sisters were pretty easy going when they had full bellies, but for the mission they had skipped meals until they were extremely hangry. Cutting the link cables was the work of just moments, as the Pokegirls chewed through the wires with their teeth. They liked eating normal food well enough, but chewing through wiring was what they liked the best.

Of all the kinds of wires, the most delicious to electricity aspected rodent Pokegirls were ones that had a lot of electricity passing through them at the time. The two sisters feasted until they had full bellies, leaving the museum's wiring a frayed mess. Both Hamster Pokegirls seemed superficially content, and possibly ready to take a nap, but Theodora knew they'd be hangry enough to fight again soon enough.

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The Toxic Lizard Pokegirl strode into the Ballroom. There were so many relics on display. So many means of capturing a Pokegirl, it fueled her disdain for humanity. It was proof if any was needed that hostilities between humans and Pokegirls had been going for a long, long time. Even through the protective glass, she could feel the power and the rage seeping out of the ancient prisons.

She made her hand hot like molten iron and tore through the armored material. Doing so would have set off many alarms had it not been for the diligent digestion of key electricals. Using her other hand, the hand that was now black like cast iron rather than glowing like iron being cast, she reached in and grabbed the first prison. It looked like a sword, and it was tied hilt to scabbard by many powerful ancient wards. Wards that were intended to stop a Pokegirl from breaking out, rather than to stop one from breaking in. Once the sword was drawn, a cat-eared Demon appeared. Her hair was white, and her claws were black. The fur on her tail and ears was both black and white. An icy wind flowed off of her body, causing the floor to becoming frosted like a children's cereal.

The newcomer looked her rescuer up and down and maintained her cat-like aloofness. "Chīshǐ, hēiguǐ." The Cat Demon said with disdain in her voice.

Smiling triumphantly, the femme fatale Lizard Pokegirl sauntered slinkily up to the new arrival. "You're free now. Free to wreak havoc on the trainersss and traitorsss who imprisssoned you."

"Nǐ jiūjìng shìshuí?" The feline Pokegirl asked. She snapped her fingers and the blade vanished from the Lizard Pokegirl's hand and appeared in the hands of the frozen Cat Demon. "Wǒde jiàn huì qiángjiān nǐ." She said after concluding a simple inspection of her weapon. A quick slice shattered the remains of the armored glass, and then a few brutal chops reduced three priceless antiquities to splinters and shards.

Three more Pokegirls took form. Each looking vaguely East Asian, but possessed of extreme corruption effects. "Wǒ tǎoyàn nǐmen suǒyǒurén." The Cat Demon said to the newly released Demons. One had a snail shell on her back. One had brass antlers protruding from her head. The last was the least physically imposing, and had the fins and gills of a Mermaid.

The antlered Pokegirl looked at the frozen Cat and the blazing Lizard. "Nǐde yīn bùlǐ mǎnshì ézi." She said levelly.

The Snail woman agreed. "Zhège fángjiān wén qǐlái xiànggè pìgu shǐ chòu." It appeared that she'd rather fold herself into her shell than to continue social niceties.

Looking in all directions with her independently focused eyeballs, the Fish Pokegirl seemed upset. "Chīshǐ de jìnǚ!" She waved her fin-like hands. "Bèi gǎnrǎn de jìnǚ!" She concluded petulantly.

Having absolutely no idea what the newly released Demons were talking about, their salamanderesque liberator slithered up to them. "Thisss mussseum isss infesssted with trainersss." They looked at her blankly, so she tried again. "Come with me if you want to live." It did not appear that any of them knew any English, having been imprisoned before the modern English language had even creolized out of Norman and Saxon.

Each of them considered the dark skinned Lizard Pokegirl and their new surroundings carefully. "Qù nǐmā de, shǐ xīyì." The Catgirl said with real sincerity.

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So numerous were the voices of confusion contributing to the cacophony that the hiss that had been added to the symphony alerted no one to the dangers. It was not until trainers and Pokegirls started collapsing that the murmurs of alarm changed to screams of terror. A paralytic poison does not, as it happens, freeze people as petrified statues, cool as that would be. What happened instead is that one by one the women in the room, and the few men as well, began losing voluntary control over their muscles and collapsed. A fall from standing height is actually quite dangerous if the person in question is unable to catch themselves, and so many of the students would probably need to go to the infirmary if they survived. That caveat seemed like it might be surprisingly important, as a group of armed Pokegirls strode into the HAM Room. Screams filled the Hall of Ancient Magitech and sputtered off into strangled gurgles.

There were seven of them: two Pokegirls of the traditional Succubus Demon appearance; one was pink of flesh and fiber and looked to be wearing a crown and a pink ballgown that managed sluttiness through transparency rather than through plunging necklines or form fitting silhouettes; another was legless, her lower half a metal segmented serpent tale; at one end there was a blond haired catgirl who seemed to have a twenty dollar bill stuck to her forehead; at the other end there was a rat-tailed Pokegirl; finally, bringing up the rear was a Bird Pokegirl carrying a Santa-sack. They each had short range communicators as well as an array of weaponry. "KSSSH... there's no sign of a response yet, you're good to go... KSSSH" The voice of a chipper Ferret Pokegirl came over the coms.

The smaller breasted of the two Succubus Demons smiled at the report. "Can I tell them, mother?" The larger breasted Pokegirl rolled her eyes and nodded. "Fantastic!" She pranced in front of the others and shouted out to the assembled trainers and Pokegirls. "Congratulations, you all receive invitations in my room. You were once the queens, but fate changes faster than the death of light. From now on, you'll provide the envy, I'll provide the spite." She made an expansive gesture toward the other Pokegirls she had arrived with. "The time of humans has been long, forcing us in submission to the heat of desire. And that ends tonight. From now on: you give it, we take it; you build it, we break it; you sign and we erase it! And for all the Pokegirls who have lived under the tyranny of trainers, we whisper in the dark for the last time! They see what they want to believe, and up until now we've lived in their shadows trying hard to please them. But they'll never change, as long as they're breathing."

The elder Demoness nodded in approval, but not all of the audience was equally moved. Clara was one of the few who had not been felled by the paralytic gas, and was enraged by the threats against her mistress. She reached into her mouth and withdrew a pair of tailoring shears that were as long as her forearm. "Honk Honk!" the Clown Girl shouted as she rushed into battle. CLANG! The blades of her scissors were parried by the metal tail of the legless Pokegirl. The metal scraped against metal, it wasn't very effective. "Honk! Honk Honk!" Clara shouted in frustration, realizing that she needed to change tactics. She was about to try to wrestle the Iron Snake Pokegirl to the ground when she found the ground had opened up beneath her. The building had enough concrete in it to withstand almost any impact, but the digging magic used by her opponent had turned the floor under Clara into a quicksand tomb. It was enhanced by a magic shovel in the Iron Snake's hands, but worse for Clara was that it was super effective. "Honk!" she called out desperately. "Honk!" And then sand filled her mouth and she couldn't honk at all.

"Fucking stay down, stupid bitch clown." The Iron Snake hissed out contemptuously over the sand pile that Clara was buried in. She twirled her magic shovel and sneered. "I've sent you to Hell, 'cuz I shovel Well." A stone's throw away, a very paralyzed Matilda moaned in despair as she felt her bond with the Scissors Clown weaken.

Witches tried to make something happen with magic, but Rini and Sammy found that the paralysis gas was super effective against them. Neither blue nor pink haired woman was able to so much as speak a magic word. Their fairy protections were strong against the darkness they expected Demons to use, but were less than useless against the poison cloud that had been used to incapacitate the room's occupants. Even the teacher had been brought to the ground, her fire magic no particular help against the invisible attack. Samantha tried to point her hypnotits at one of the attackers, any of the attackers, but couldn't move her chest into an effective position. All she could do was close her eyes and think. What she thought of was how much she wanted to see Damian, and that's when she decided to send him a psychic message.

Her distress call went through, but unfortunately the magic did not go unnoticed. The leader of the attackers was able to notice the content, and alerted the rest of the Pokegirls. "Someone has sent out a message for someone close. Go out and find her man." The Succubus laughed, because by crushing Samantha's hopes, she had been bad enough that she could imprison the Tapir Witch in a wall of light. It was super effective.

Samantha's limp body was hoisted into the air and suspended within the wall of evil power. The most surprising part to her was the degree to which the evil power glowed white. She had really expected it to be red or purple, or somehow spread shadow with emanating black light. But it turned out the wall of badness produced light of all frequencies equally, and this appeared visually as a soft white light. It certainly felt evil enough. The large breasted woman was pilloried, her wrists and ankles locked in place by the wall of light. The rest of her body was also in the wall, but had a bit more wiggle room. Anyone on one side of the wall would have access to her tits, anyone on the other side would have access to her ass. It reminded her of being tied to the bitching post, and she was very glad that Damian had just whipped and sodomized her on one. If she hadn't been thoroughly dominated during her training session, the dark magic of the wall surely would have reduced her to a pathetic horny mess almost immediately. As it was, she waited calmly in her imprisonment, imagining how good it was going to be the next time Damian struck her with his lash of submission and then made her be his cock sleeve.

Trussed up as she was, Samantha could do nothing to prevent the Demoness from whipping her bountiful juggs. The black stripe of a submission lash extruded from the Pokegirl's wrist and snaked through the air to strike a breast with a thunderous crack. It was super effective. The lash slashed through the air again. And again. The agony in the Witch's tits was intense, though it was also familiar. It looked and felt just like Damian's lash, though the magical power behind it was more than she had ever been on the receiving end of at one time. Still, the very similarity to Damian's magic allowed her to imagine herself submitting to Damian instead. As she drifted off into sub space, she imagined herself servicing Damian's cock, wearing Damian's collar, being put on display by Damian. She imagined him branding her receptive rump, she imagined him clamping her nipples and clit, she imagined him flaunting her degradation to her family and friends. And she imagined herself collaring those very same family and friends for her master. For Master Damian. It sounded so right in her mind. Her pussy juiced up, but her training at Damian's hand allowed her to avoid submitting to the Demonic Matriarch whose lash she was actually feeling on her sensitive skin.

Seeing the Witch's arousal and submission, Evelyn cackled in triumph. "Your pussy betrays you, little Witch. Tell me now, who does your pussy serve?" She stuck her own index and middle finger into her mouth, preparing to pull a slavegasm out of Samantha's needy cunt.

Samantha's voice was caught by the paralytic gas, her jaw could barely move. "ay-ee-uh" dribbled out of her mouth to no great comprehensibility. Recovering a bit of inner strength, the Tapir Witch sent a defiant psychic missive to her tormentor. "MASTER DAMIAN OWNS MY PUSSY, BITCH!" The wave of psychic energy propagated through the room, and she could tell from the furious expression on the Goat Demon's face that the message had been received.

Turning to her subordinates, the Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords was a portrait of fury. "There is a man in this museum, we cannot allow this, find him and..." Her frenzied grimace was enough to allow the Pokegirls to imagine what they might be expected to do once the man in question had been caught. "Go! Find him, don't let him escape from our revenge. He must face punishment." And like flying monkeys, five of her companions ran out of the room.

The one who stayed was the Iron Snake. She slithered to a display case. "Mirror, Mirror, in the glass. Who's the finest piece of ass?" The metal scaled woman chuckled at her own question, neither expecting nor receiving an answer. She hefted her shovel as she prepared to dig her way into the case surrounding the mirror she had referenced.

Before shovel struck glass, a restraining hand fell on her shoulder. "Before we can safely open this case we must overcome the Witch Ward." What her Demon magic had revealed was that whoever had placed the mirror in the museum had also enchanted a powerful magical trap that would surely destroy or imprison any Pokegirl attempting to lay claws on the mirror. Especially if that Pokegirl was a Demon. The Witch who created the ward must have been particularly concerned about Demon Pokegirls. Evelyn smelled the magic of the ward carefully, it seemed that there was similar smelling magic nearby.

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"Well, shit." Damian stood in the darkness of the bathroom. He'd just received the psychic distress call that Samantha had sent.

"Hmmm... where, Master?" Beatrice inquired. The Bee Pokegirl hovered next to him both figuratively and literally.

Damian's confused expression was wasted in the darkness. "Sometimes I don't understand you at all, Beatrice." His slave hummed in worry. "I just got a psychic message from Samantha. It sounds like the whole museum has been captured by feral Pokegirls. Sounds like it's up to us to save the rest of the class. It's like that nineties movie... Skyscraper." He would be the first to admit he wasn't a helicopter pilot, but perhaps he could do something. "I don't know what we can do against an enemy that can take out the entire class at once, but I guess the advantage we have is that they don't know we're here."

He'd barely let those words leave his mouth when a crackling noise came over the museum's speakers. A strangely appealing woman's voice broke through the static. "Is this on? Damian, all of your friends are now hostages. Surrender." The speakers went dead after the perfunctory message.

"Well, shit." He didn't think surrendering to a group of feral Pokegirls was much of an option. Not if he didn't want to turn into a Pokegirl himself. But he was in no position to fight either, his PP had been nearly exhausted using his lash of submission to whip his classmates. He inwardly cursed his own shortsightedness, fritting away his combat power just to give hard submissive orgasms to Samantha, Paige, Robin, and their slaves.

Beatrice hummed in thought. "mmmm... Do you really think that will help, Master?"

"What?" He thought about his predicament. "We need firepower, we've got to get to the Fossil display." If that machine could pump enough PP into a rock to revive an ancient Pokegirl, presumably it could refresh his own modest batteries.

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The catgirl theatrically sniffed the air, the twenty dollar bill strapped to her head waving as her head moved around. "You know how to hide a five dollar bill from a surgeon?" She rhetorically asked the darkness of the hall of statues. "You put it in the patient's medical notes." She chuckled cattily at her joke. "Bu you know how to hide five dollars from me?" Her second rhetorical question dripped with menace. "You fucking can't hide five dollars from me, Damian! I can smell it in your pocket, you fucking trainer. I want you to know that when I find you, and I will find you, I'm going to beat you until money comes out!"

She had a scourge. Nine leather straps that each had small change glued to the end. Dangling from the handle they jingled and jangled like a pocketful of change, but if swung like a flail they'd hit like a brick in a sock. The black catsuit she wore left no part of her athletic frame and C-cup tits to the imagination. The plunging neckline showed off her generous cleavage but also displayed her gracile neck free of collar or adornment. She stepped lightly as she looked around statue after statue, her catsuit making a rubbing sound and her scourge clinking and clunking. Every step seemed carefully placed even as they came one after the other with surprising speed. Her furry tail swished this way and that, keeping the Pokegirl balanced as she searched the room.

Damian stepped out from behind a statue of a historical (or perhaps legendary) queen, and spoke directly to the Pokegirl. "Fine, I guess I won't be able to hide from you forever." He bent his knees into a wrestler's crouch. "Bring it on, Pussy Puss-Puss." He didn't think that was her name, but he spoke it as if he did, which made it much more insulting.

"Mrrrow!" The Cat Pokemon hissed. She twirled her scourge, the straps wheeling through the air going fwish-fwish-fwish. Once a bit of momentum had been built up, she pounced toward Damian, her scourge wielded in one hand and bare claws brandished in the other. She made it to within a few meters of Damian's smirking face, only to wrap her scourge around a silk strand and then lose at limbo as her tits hit the same steel-strong thread.

As the Pokegirl fell backward she contorted her spine and flipped so by the time she touched the floor she was in a three-point superhero landing. She flipped her head up to toss her blond hair out of her eyes and glare at Damian with both of them. It was an impressive display of reflexes and acrobatics, but it still represented lost time. Time that another short-haired blond used to come in like a wrecking ball. "Zzzzz!" Beatric buzzed angrily as she swooped in with all three stingers deployed. They went through the catsuit like it wasn't even there and then pierced into cat flesh with similar indifference. It was super effective.

The catgirl tried to bring her scourge around to flail into the Bee Warrior, but her hand was tangled by a silk trap. She looked all around and only at the edge of her vision did she recognize that Hinako was on the ceiling, with her head rotated to stare intently down at the feline Pokegirl. She struggled to free her arm, but was given no time at all as Beatrice's swipes of fury drilled her stingers through the catsuit again and again. In the darkness of the room, the catgirl's blood could as easily have been oil or coffee, but even in the dim light it was clear that the liquid was spraying and pooling on the floor to quite a distance from the living body it had come from.

"That's enough," Damian said, and Beatrice obediently thwipped her blades out of her opponent, "we need to get going." The meaty thump that the Pokegirl's body made as it fell to the ground would have attracted any family pets in the vicinity as much as any food dropped from a dining table to the floor.

Beatrice's blades dripped in what appeared to be catsup. "Hmmm... Master, this would be a good time to fuck this unruly Pokegirl into submission. She has fainted from blood loss, she could not prevent you from claiming her pussy." His slave's compound eyes were as unreadable as ever, but the eagerness in her voice was hard to miss.

He shook his head. "We don't have time. I won't be able to fight with you until we get some of my PP back. If she lives, someone can make her into a sex slave." He shrugged. "If she dies, she dies."

The catgirl lay inert on the floor. Even with the tightness of her newly ventilated catsuit, the rise and fall of her chest was barely visible in the gloom. Damian noticed a short range communicator on her belt, and he picked it up before he started walking away. Hinako and Beatrice pushed the catgirl out of their memories and followed their master. Barbara reached down and grabbed the scourge from the Pokegirl's unresisting hand, and then she followed as well.

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A chubby Rat Pokegirl walked through the rainy courtyard. With her extra padding and her rodent-aspected neoteny, she looked much younger than her true age. A short woman whose belly stuck out as far as her boobs, she was aware that she had the appearance of a teenager who loved lunch more than PE. The storm bothered her not at all, and neither the wind nor the rain deterred her. The courtyard had a cafe, and the cafe had someone in it. She could hear the rustling of a human attempting to make themselves undetected. Perhaps that person was the human trainer she'd been sent to find and subdue, but either way the person was trying to hide in a cafe. And cafes meant food. She liked food.

Some of the tables were outside, having been placed there to allow people to enjoy the weather as it was before Peach had summoned the storm while eating and drinking the cafe's offerings. The Rat Pokegirl stepped into the cafe itself, dripping onto the floor without a care in the world. There was no one standing behind the counter, but her keen senses told her that someone was there. The pastry display had been ravaged to crumbs by crowds earlier in the day, but while the wet Rat was more than happy to eat leftovers, she had come for a main course. "Who do we have here?" She asked brightly, with just enough of a menacing edge that no reply was given. She pretended to look in the espresso machine. "Is someone hiding here?" The vibrations of fear from under the counter would be subtle for Pokegirls who didn't have the powerful whiskers and ears, but to the Pokegirl the hiding place might as well have had a neon sign. "Is someone hiding here?" She mockingly checked the wine rack. "Oh," she said, pretending to have an epiphany, "there must be someone hiding here!" The manic Pokegirl's grin showed off her terrifying front teeth as she crouched down and saw eye to eye with the no longer hidden person.

A young woman in a museum foodcourt uniform screamed. She obviously wasn't the Damian that the Pokegirl had been sent to capture, but the Pokegirl didn't care all that much. It was a perfectly cromulent chance to cause some havoc, and that's all she really wanted. "Leave me alone!" The human pleaded, and the Pokegirl decided immediately that she wouldn't honor that request. Because well, what fun would that be?

Baring her teeth, the Rat girl reached under the counter and grabbed a human leg. The woman struggled of course, but the Pokegirl was much faster and incomparably stronger. All her flailings did was to make her body flop against the wall and floor. She was dragged into the middle of the cafe, her hands grasping at table legs and slowing the movement hardly at all. The Pokegirl put a tiny hand on each stocking-covered knee and pushed them apart like she was opening a book. "Nice pussy you got there, I think I'll take it." Her scary face darted forward and in an eyeblink she grabbed the human's panties in her teeth and tore them apart with her bite.

"No! No! Please!" The humiliated woman cried, her makeup smearing as tears flowed from her eyes. Her short brown hair became a bird's nest as it mopped along the floor. Her pussy hole was left unprotected and she tried in vain to cover it with her hands. The Pokegirl simply proved too powerful as her deceptively tiny fingers pried their way into the vaginal hole. The gap was dry and the Rat girl's nails scratched as they forced their way into the gateway. "Aaaaah!" She cried in agony and despair, while her arms and legs twitched and then went limp.

"Ha!" The small statured pudgy woman laughed in triumph. "My fingers are in your puppet hole, human bitch!" A few twitches of her fingers and the human's limbs moved about as if on strings. At first it was movements coarse and broad, turning this way and that like a weathercock on a barn roof, but with a little experimentation the puppetry became more elegant, almost human in its manipulated movements. "Yes, now that I control your body, you can make me a fucking sandwich!"

The helpless woman could do nothing but watch in detached horror as her body pawed its way through the pantry and the refrigerator to grab half a baguette and three different kinds of cheese. She was a terrified onlooker as the Pokegirl wiggled small fingers in her cunt and her body responded like a doll. She went from pose to pose and then her hand picked up a knife. Inside her mind she was a tangle of terror as she felt her commandeered body bring the blade up in front of her eyes and then down to her own neck. The fingers stopped moving, and without additional commands, the cafe employee stood like an abandoned toy, feeling the cool metal against the soft skin of her own neck.

Putting her mousy face between the woman's thighs, the Rat Pokegirl sniffed the pussy she had captured. The smell of fear was overwhelming and made her hungrier than ever, but there was another smell that came to the nose because the pussy wasn't nearly as dry as when it had begun. "That's perfect," the Pokegirl remarked, her whiskers tickling her victim's inner thighs, "you're becoming slave-hot, as you should. I can make you slit your own throat, but instead I'm going to have you make me a sandwich. You're going to serve me and slavegasm while doing it, won't that be fun?"

The fingers in the woman's pussy pressed against her insides and pressed against her resolve. Her breath quickened as her knife came away from her throat and began slicing cheese. Under the control and direction of the grinning Pokegirl she cut cheese and cut bread. She placed cheese on bread and then cheese on cheese. There was another slice of bread but she did not place it on top. "Why?" She barely was able to bring the word forth from her own mouth.

"Oh, that slice of bread will go on our sandwich," the Pokegirl promised menacingly, "but it's not really a sandwich if it's just bread and cheese, you know? It needs at least one condiment, right?" The tiny rat fingers squelched in the woman's pussy and the human body placed the mostly-completed sandwich on a plate and then bent over to put the plate on the floor. "I don't know about you, but my favorite condiment is pussy juice." Controlled by the fingers in her pussy, the cafe worker squatted over the plate, her vulnerable sex just a hand's span above a slice of cheese. "That's right, your pussy is ready to pour the last of your willpower onto my sandwich. I'm gonna make you cum, and when you squirt, I'll be able to eat the last of your independence. You'll be a pathetic shell of a human, a soulless puppet piloted only by my hand in your pussy."

"Nuh... nuh... don't wanna..." Whether she wanted to or not, she found that the rat fingers moved her. They directed her. They chose when she twitched and when she stayed still. The Rat Pokegirl chose for her to cum, and she made no choices at all. She had no choices to make. No agency. Not even a name. "Aaaaaah!" She cried out in forced ecstasy, and she squirted on the Pokegirl's fingers. On the Pokegirl's sandwich. Her orgasm completed, the woman's puppetted body woodenly assembled the sandwich and offered it to its puppeteer.

After taking a big bite of her cheese and girl-jizz sandwich, the Rat Pokegirl slapped the pussy of her new conquest. "This sandwich is delicious. Your squirt of pussy juice is salty. It's like you cried on this bread and cheese. Now that your cunt has been completely dominated, you might as well have some of this sandwich. Once you eat a bite of your own submission, you'll really taste how completely defeated you are. How I've reduced you to something less than a person." She held the half-eaten sandwich in front of her victim. "Have a bite. Remind yourself that you don't even have a self anymore. You're not even a slave, just a meat puppet that I'll play with until I decide to throw you away."

The meat puppet took a bite. It tasted like sex and sadness in equal measure. She mechanically chewed the bread and and cheese, the remnants of her own orgasm becoming masticated into deeply levels of defeat that she hadn't even known existed.

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"KSSSH Kitty, are you finished with that guy? We have not heard from you for a bit. KSSSH" The ominous woman's voice came over the communicator, and Damian froze. He stared at it in his hand, unsure of whether he should answer or not.

"Hmmm," Beatrice prompted him, "Master should answer. Taunt her. Let her know that you will enslave her cunt." All three of his slaves got hungry looks on their faces. Every one of them wanted to watch him break in a new slave by fucking her to slavegasm.

He wasn't sure about actually acquiring any slaves, but he supposed that his slave was right that taunting the Pokegirl at the other end of the communicator was what he should do. It probably had the highest upside, if he could provoke her into making a mistake, the hostages might be able to escape or contact a high tier hunter team. He stopped and thought about pithy one-liners and bad-ass action star dialog he could use. Shrugging, he pressed the talk button. "I'm afraid it's... Goodbye Kitty at this point." He'd paused because he was fumbling for something to say, but he hoped it came off as a dramatic pause.

"KSSSH... I assume that I am speaking to Damian, how do you spell that name? KSSSH"

"Correctly," Damian confirmed, "but you have me at a disadvantage. Who am I speaking to?"

"KSSSH They call me Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords, and you know what that means for you. KSSSH"

Damian stopped and felt so nauseous that he almost vomited on the spot. There had been many times in his life that he transiently wished to hear that voice speak to him. Times when he'd been angry at Karen and cursed her that she was not his real mom. Every time he'd said something like that he'd immediately regretted it. It had been a long time since he had given up ever receiving love or even acknowledgment from his birth mother. The woman who took care of him, the woman who had made him what he was, the woman who was his real mother, was Karen. When he recovered his confidence enough to speak, his voice was dripping with as much venom as Beatrice's drills. "It means I'm talking to Evelyn Duarte. I'd heard you were a big time powerful Pocket Monster, but it turns out you're just a common thief."

"KSSSH... I am an excellent thief, my boy. You should be more polite, Damian. KSSSH"

His jaw set as if it had been carved in stone. He didn't feel particularly polite. "I think that right now our game is one to zero, and if you wanted politeness you wouldn't have taken hostages in the first place."

"KSSSH Perhaps not, but you will find that your cowboy games are not like the movies. KSSSH Sharon Stone will not ride off into the sunset at the end of this one. KSSSH"

"I've always been more interested in Jane Russell," Damian admitted, "there's something about the original that's fuckable in its own way." There wasn't an immediate reply, and Damian put the communicator back on his belt. "We'd better get going." He confided to his own Pokegirls.

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"The machine they use to empower the fossils should work like the machine they use to restore our PP at the health center," Damian speculated, "so once we get in..." he trailed off. Before him were the archaeologists who had presented the fossil exhibit to him earlier in the day, but their situation made it clear that he was in a situation as well. Both Dr. Croft and Dr. Fox were naked and trussed up with extension cords. Electric wires ran to their genitals, and it seemed a safe bet that shocking agony would flow into them at some point. Probably already had. With their clothes removed, their tan lines demonstrated that both women wore short shorts and tank tops pretty frequently in the sun. Dr. Fox's Southeast Asian skin was much darker than Dr. Croft's British skin, but the tan lines were sharply visible on both. They didn't look happy or aroused, not having the look of women who had been lovingly placed into bondage after asking to be trained. They looked instead to be women who had been beaten and forced into bondage against their will. Damian's heart sense told him that neither woman wanted to submit, and he was disgusted.

Damian believed quite strongly that most people had a path to slavery, and that a strong dominant could find that path and put them on it. Some paths to slavery were very short and the submissives were already on them, just hoping to find an owner who would take them to the end. Many paths were long or hidden or both. Many people didn't have any special reason to venture down their path to slavery and would be just as happy retaining their freedom and submitting to no one. Despite their predicament, the archaeologists weren't on their paths to slavery, they were just bound and tortured. It wasn't even a punish fucking, just abuse. There was no shame and submission, just pain.

He sought the source of this atrocity, and his eyes fell on a small woman with splotchy skin. At first he thought he was looking at a high-school girl, but he quickly realized that she was a rodent Pokegirl with a high corruption, and likely much older than he was. "What the fuck is this?" He asked furiously.

The Pokegirl laughed at him, and slapped her empty hand into her power glove. "You must be the Damian that the boss lady is talking about. Well, I'm Antonia, and I came here to eat seeds and kick trainer ass." The discomfort of hunger flashed across her face. "And I'm all out of seeds!" Purple lightning arced around her body as she began powering up.

As a hamster ball of pure evil energy began to take form around the Hamster Pokegirl, Damian called his own Pokegirls into action. Her aura wheel hadn't been covered in class, but it didn't take a deep insight into Pokegirl magic to realize that allowing the enemy to consume an energy field bigger than her head would be bad. He figured there was probably a rule to that effect, but it just seemed like common sense. "Take her down!" He shouted. All three of his Pokegirls leapt into action, a description that was literal for both Barbara and Beatrice.

Barbara's bat wings flapped twice and propelled her at great speed across the fossil display hall. She was almost in arm's reach of the Hamster Pokegirl when a spark leapt from Antonia's power glove to Barbara's face. It was super effective. The Bat Girl was thrown across the room, shocked and in shock. Hinako rotated her head to watch her slave sister hurtled away into a far wall, but dared not stop her charge into the Pokegirl whose charging was related to electricity rather than momentum. Both Hinako and Beatrice were taller than their opponent, their corruption manifesting in their odd body proportions rather than in a small stature. Both bug women tore into their rodent enemy with fury. Their swipes were super effective, the sharp ends of their limbs cutting into the villainous Hamster woman like jack knives into upholstery.

Even as the feral Pokegirl was forced to her knees and bound mercilessly with Hinako's silken strands, she remained defiant. "You think you've won, trainer boy? I've put enough power into those bimbo rock hunters that they'll be corrupted into Pokegirls in no time! Even if you fill my belly with your semen, you're still outnumbered. You're doomed, Damian! Dooomed!" The Hamster laughed, coughed, and laughed again.

"We'll see about that," Damian shrugged as he walked over to his fallen Bat Girl, "Barbara, are you... alive?" He'd been about to inquire whether she was OK, but thought better of it. She was obviously pretty far from OK.

Her blind face grimaced in pain, and under the circumstances, he found that reassuring. "I think so, Master. My back hurts." It is said that eyes are the windows of the soul, through which we can see both love and pain. While Barbara's soul was windowless in that sense, the way she twitched on the ground left little doubt as to the agony that she suffered with. She reached over and touched his ankle for reassurance, but she made no attempt to stand.

Leaving Antonia webbed to the wall and bereft of her power glove, Beatrice and Hinako helped Barbara over to the machine. She considered the device, and punched in the activation on the fossil reviver. Damian wasn't a fossil himself, he hadn't even graduated from university, but to his understanding all magic power was kind of the same. Even though obviously it was all different. The medical devices at the health center were able to restore the PP on Pokegirls and trainers with any aspects, and he didn't think it was much different. It felt much different. It felt like he'd spent way too long in a sauna and his insides had somehow dried out. But it did the job, Damian's eyes turned black and his fighting aura made dirt levitate off the ground. Barabara turned down the device, and leaned back against the wall.

"I haven't forgotten you two," he said to the bound archaeologists, "if the feral Hamster was telling the truth, I guess you both need to be stabilized before you turn into monsters." They shivered and winced, but they nodded in agreement.

Beatrice was overjoyed. "Mmmm, this is going to be so great for you! Master has a humanizer ability, and once you submit to his lash you'll be so much more of a person. You'll let him own your tits and your pussy, but other than that you'll be so free. Mmmmm. I'm jealous of you, because you get to be whipped by Damian for the first time." The blades from her arms cut through the extension cords that had bound the women like a box cutter on the wrappings of birthday presents.

Doctor Fox was first. She could feel the dark energy burning her insides, and she had no choice but to present her tits to Damian. Her breasts were large enough that they touched partially in the center of her chest even when she pushed her shoulders back to jut them into open space. When she pushed them together and forward to present her boobs, the cleavage was tight enough to milk a cock. The swooping tanline curved quite close to her nipples, a reminder of how much of her milk-tea colored cleavage was on display when she wore her signature tank tops outside. Crack! The lash of submission struck her in the boob, but it felt like it struck directly into her soul. "Oooooh. Wow." The archaeologist moaned and gasped, and then Crack! The lash struck again. Another boob, but her same soul. "Oooooh." Dr. Fox cooed. She could feel her pussy juicing up in anticipation and submission. She had collected magical relics from all over the world, and she knew many ancient cultures would use them to push people into sexual submission. Now that she felt it happening to her, she wanted more.

Beatrice's hand rested lightly on the archaeologist's shoulder. She treated the Asian woman like a delicate flower. "Mmmmm. You're almost there, Dr. Fox. You've felt his domination. You know how good it is to submit, how impossible it is to resist." Her other hand pointed to Damian's crotch and then long arms reached in to unzip his pants. Hinako was crawling on the floor and had rotated her head so that she could look at her master's package. The Spider Girl was more than happy to fish out Damian's pole, even if she was reaching as far as her very long arms could go to get it done.

Dr. Fox saw Damian's angry, throbbing cock. It was her salvation and her doom. All she had to do was submit and the transformation into a Pokegirl would be aborted. It looked like she might be hesitating, but the truth was that Damian's manhood had simply taken her breath away. She kissed it lovingly, and there had never been a question in her mind as to whether she would submit to the boy in front of her, her brain had only stumbled on how. Beatrice ran her fingers through her black hair, prepared to take control of her head if the Pokegirl deemed it necessary. When she pulled her head back, she looked up at Damian's face and Crack! He whipped her again. "Oh. It's so good. Lara, he's going to whip us! This boy is going to make us into into his fuck toys!"

Dr. Croft's tan lines were more obvious than those of Dr. Fox. Her British skin meant that the outline of short shorts and midriff-showing tank tops she often wore were seen as nearly paper-white skin against the healthy bronze tan she had developed on the rest of her body. Both her active outdoorsy lifestyle and her genetic propensity for pallor were strongly on display. Also on display were her nearly head-sized melons. Damian gave them a whipping and they gave satisfying jiggles in return. When she kissed Damian's cockhead, she was then guided to kiss her colleague.

Both archaeologists knew what came next. They'd seen it carved into the rock of so many temples and tombs of antiquity, they'd seen it painted onto ancient vessels and sculpted in clay and gold, and they knew it was their turn. They bent over on their boobs and knees, reaching back to spread themselves to be ravished by Damian's cock. Modern scholars called it tripoding, but the natural position of submission for big breasted sluts had been described long before the invention of writing. Damian gave their asses some strikes with the lash, and they moaned receptively.

He checked with his Pokedex, and their corruption had come down dramatically, but it was still too high. He needed to complete the ritual, he needed to pump seed into both pussies. The women moaned in their receptiveness. Where he had started the tit-whipping with Dr. Fox, for taking the offered pussies he chose to start with Dr. Croft. He was dominating her, completely overwriting the curse magic that Antonia had short circuited into her. By the time he was ready to spray his jizz into the archaeologist's core, she had forgotten that that had been the reason she wanted his cum in the first place. She had orgasm after orgasm, and she begged Damian to train her. Beatrice hummed agreement and encouragement into her ear.

In most cases, Dr. Fox would see someone treated like a freshly washed cum rag and politely excuse herself. Seeing her friend and colleague being fucked into submission had the opposite effect. She wanted to be treated the same, and she found herself begging for it. "Damian, Sir. My pussy needs training. I'll be such a good girl when you train me. Please, Sir. Please train my pussy to serve you. Lara and I will serve you so well. We'll be such good girls for you." Her pleading didn't have to go one forever, and once her lower lips opened for his mushroom she felt the building ecstasy of her own submission. "Oh! Thank you! Thank you for taming me!" She came hard, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to cum like that forever more. Damian came as well, and in doing so he experienced the now familiar rush of strength that came from acquiring a new trait.

Barbara held Damian's Pokedex and scanned everyone involved. "You did it, Master!" Her smile didn't reach her eyes, but was genuine all the same. "You have become a Sensei Tamer! Oh, and also the scientists have lowered corruption enough that they aren't going to turn into Pokegirls." The difference in enthusiasm that the redheaded Bat Girl had for those two pieces of news was pretty vast. The reality was that as a Pokegirl herself, she genuinely didn't think it was a bad idea for people to turn into Pokegirls so long as they were properly sexually dominated by a good master like her own. But her master did want to keep trainers from becoming Pokegirls, and she supposed he had a point. She turned the Pokedex on the remaining Pokegirl. "Don't think we've forgotten about you, Antonia! Your spark practically broke my back, you two-faced skank! You said you ran out of seeds to eat? Well, Master Damian is going to pump his seed into your mouth until you go completely full belly mode."

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The Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords fumed. The ward was trickier than she was hoping, she wouldn't be able to simply throw one of her captives through the display glass. She needed a key, but obviously the witch who had made the trap hadn't kept any keys anywhere nearby. Time was running out, she needed to get the mirror and get out. The Succubus turned to the deck of cards, shuffling it and reshuffling it until she felt it develop a satisfactory prophetic aura. She flipped a single card: the eight of coins. She smiled. Of course, if no key was available, she could make one.

The very badness of her plan was enough for a light wall to rise from the ground and pillory Rini. It wasn't very effective, but as the Rabbit Witch was still paralyzed it really didn't have to be. White gloves and socks poked through the wall of light, and her pink hair and pink dress hung down like display items on a department store rack. "This little Witch is a piece of the key, or at least she has potential." With a powerful yank, she shredded the front of Rini's dress, revealing the plain white bra and panty combination she wore underneath. "Your blood is connected to the lock, your pussy juice will become the key!"

It took Rini all of her willpower to say anything at all, and even then it felt like her mouth was full of cotton balls. "Nuhuh. Yuh dahk majuhk wuhn wuhk on meh!" The poor Witch wasn't sure whether she should be proud of herself for talking back to an uber-level threat while she was monologuing or just die of shame because she'd just talked like her tongue was frozen to a lamp post in front of two whole freshmen Mathemagic classes. Both seemed like pretty good options.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Her defiance had inspired a slow clap from the Iron Snake Pokegirl. "Of course your magic of fey wards off the shadow as the night is warded off by the day. But the Queen's milk is nothing of that ilk. Against her powerful water you'll not be a witch's daughter. You'll suckle her breast, and we all know the rest. How you'll cease all your fuss, and become one of us." Rini took a moment to register the meaning of the doggerel poetry from the metal-skinned nagini. When she got it, she really got it. Her very purity made her vulnerable to poison, and as she saw the Succubus removing her top and exposing her bimboesque breasts, that terrified her.

Evelyn's nipples were engorged, and ready to spray their aphrodisiac toxins and gurgle out their shameful smears. "You will be my pussy licking slave. No longer will you be The Pink Witch." The massive mammaries were rubbed on Rini's face, on her neck, and on her much more modest breasts. Black goo came out of of Evelyn's nipples, having a liquid latex-like consistency. The Demoness' fingers came up to paint and smear it over Rini's bra and over her naked flesh. "You will now become a Black Lady. When you cum, your cum will form the key." The Demoness laughed as she prepared a black encasement for the pink haired Witch. A smear of latexish goo was brushed across Rini's eyes, hiding the shining pink with a layer of shiny blackness.

Rini could feel her arousal building in the darkness. The black milk was super effective.

+-+ End Chapter 24 +-+

In case that wasn't clear in the chapter, in the Pocket Monster world, Anna Nicole Smith was a bankable action star in the '90s. Skyscraper made a big impact and had a lot of imitations, as well as spawning a host of sequels such as Skyscraper 2: Skyscrape with a Vengeance, Skyscraper 3: A Good Day to Scrape Sky, Skyscraper 5: Skyscraper in Da Hood, and Skyscraper 5 Two: Skyscraper Back in Da Hood.

I am aware that the Treasures of Ruin are not speaking period-appropriate Chinese for Liao-dynasty demons. Also, the Chinese they are speaking is "very bad." Sorry about that, but there were limits to how far I was willing to go for that joke.

Canny counters will notice that I haven't described every member of Evelyn's terrorist group of Pokegirls. It's not because I've lost count, there are thirteen and only twelve of them have been described so far.