04 Salutations and Sadie Pokens

Details: Written by: Grim; Category: Tamers; Published: December 06, 2014; Hits: 3346

Disclaimer:
Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirl and Pokèwoman come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html. "Wild Horses and Pokègirl" is the creation of Metroanime. C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

. . . The room is less crowded that I feared it would be, he thought as he glanced around the private dining room he'd arranged. The groups had predictably formed their little cliques. I suspect breaking them up would cause a riot, so let it be.

. . . "I know Blossom and Rainbow were standing guard on the building," he said, startling the two Tyrannodames, "What were you doing, Acerpalmatum?"

. . . "Acer, if you'd rather," the Chikotit said, "I got some new clothes and some gear I always wanted. Then I stayed on the roof, sunbathing, so Blossom and Rainbow could get some shopping and sightseeing done."

. . . "Just you three? That seems a little unfair."

. . . "Roxanne and Aurora were sunbathing with me," she happily volunteered, both FarFuck'd looked like they wanted to melt through the floor.

. . . "Did they get any shopping done?" he asked.

. . . The little plant girl frowned a little. "They got mobbed by Tamers, so I got their stuff."

. . . "We'll go out and get them some clothes tomorrow," he said, and glanced at Angie who seemed to be taking minutes of the meeting.

. . . "Seadamar, I understand you entered a shooting competion. Did you do well?" he asked.

. . . And what did you do at school today? he thought, but kept it to himself.

. . . "I did, adequately," the GunValkyrie replied, showing little if any emotion.

. . . "She came in second," Isaik supplied, "And got a very large gift card from one of the local weapons' stores."

. . . "I desired the 50-caliber sniper rifle," the GunValkyrie said, "The gift certificate is insufficient to purchase another, even if one were available. The third place prize would also have been preferable."

. . . "What was it?"

. . . The table got very quiet, even the normally loquacious members seemed to find the ceiling or wood grain of the table interesting.

. . . Seadamar finally realized the question was hers alone to answer. "A HandMaid."

. . . A Pokègirl wants to own a Pokègirl, he thought, That's the way of things here. Don't accept it, but you can't hold them to your standards, yet. He felt Shana's eyes on him, gauging his reaction.

. . . "Was the winner happy, or would they have been willing to trade?" he asked, masking his emotions.

. . . "He was unwilling to trade for the gift certificate and the currency I had on hand. It is perhaps possible that an offer could be made." Seadamar showed no obvious emotion.

. . . I can feel the anxiety, she want it, very badly, he thought. She's talking about buying a person, one thought went, She's talking about buying property, a person treated as property, went another, She's talking about doing exactly what you are doing, obtaining a companion, went a third.

. . . "If you have the contact information, maybe we can arrange something," he said. And noted that everyone in the room seemed to relax.

. . . Was I supposed to explode because a Pokègirl was asking something, or was I supposed to explode about buying a person? he wondered, Not a question I intend to ask.

. . . "What about you two, or is it three now?" he asked the trio of Celestials. The two Seraph splices surrounding the Hatta Mary, the Fiendish Cherry.

. . . "They took me to see some very nice art, and gardens, and the hospital I used to work in," the girl managed cheerfully, then the chirpy facade shattered and she broke down in tears. The other two Celestials comforted her.

. . . Probably tossed her out when she got the Fiendish Template. What happened is not the subject here. Probably Blessed some high leveler, and got Fiended right back. He made his own note to talk with her later.

. . . "Jen, since you're with us, I suspect you passed Angie and Roxanne's tests."

. . . "Temporarily. They told me that if I 'act like a typical HyperDoll', Maus, Warden, Roxanne and Aurora will beat me bloody." She grinned nervously at that.

. . . "I'd take that as a statement of policy, rather than a threat," he warned, "Sabrina? Did you have a good time?"

. . . "Yes, sir," the DildoQueen said excitedly, "I talked to the girls, and they were all talking about getting matching uniforms like the ones you gave Eko and Kay."

. . . The strangled gasp from those two worthies left their circle a little perplexed.

. . . "Those are League-sanctioned uniforms," he explained.

. . . "I didn't mean the actual style, just something we could all wear that would link us together," Sabrina said happily, "Different fit and cut for each of us, something to accentuate our individuality and our togetherness, both at the same time." The DildoQueen grinned happily, and the other girls were nodding their own agreement.

. . . Pack mentality, I want to be me, but I want to be us just as much, he thought.

. . . "The Legion of 'He Who Is Feared'," Shana said, "I like it, very useful."

. . . "Unless you all decide to wear neon yellow while we're trying to sneak up on something, I'm not going to complain." The happy chatter broke out and rose, then subsided as the DildoQueen raised her hand. He nodded and things got quiet again.

. . . "I do have a question, I've been too worried to ask it before," Sabrina said as she lowered her hand.

. . . "Ask," he said and felt the tension of the next few moments ratcheted up considerably.

. . . "Access to your Harem and them having . . . children?" Sabrina asked, then blushed, unable to say more.

. . . "You want to know if I mind you Taming the other girls?"

. . . The DildoQueen nodded.

. . . "As for children, none right now. I need soldiers, not mothers. Later," he glanced at Maus and Warden, "We have the only members of two breeds, I believe they might want to have some little ones. But that will be decided later," he added to cut off discussion. "If one of the girls wants to spend time with you, that is between the two of you. I doubt I could fulfill their requests, I have some doubt about just seeing to their needs."

. . . "Thank you."

. . . "Sabrina," Angie said, "We'll talk."

. . . The DildoQueen nodded.

. . . "That's just sick," Reed Red added.

. . . "It's our decision," Angie said politely.

. . . "Oh, and I can't talk about it, is that it? How are you going to make me, Titmouse?!" Reed Red stood and threatened.

. . . "She could blast you into smoldering fragments like she did Skara's Dark Lady," he told the Tomboy, "But I look forward to seeing what she does to you."

. . . "Erase you, of course," Angie said, then grinned, "Everyone, say hello, to Fred."

. . . "Hi Fred," Isaik said.

. . . "My name's not Fred!" Fred told everyone, her glare daring them to argue.

. . . "Hi Fred."

. . . "Hello Fred."

. . . "Willkomen Fred."

. . . "G'Day Frd."

. . . "MY NAME'S NOT FRED!"

. . . "Lower your voice Fred," Shana told her.

. . . The look of soul-wrenching betrayal on the Tomboy's face was comical.

. . . "Or else, Fred," Shana added.

. . . "You see, we ordered some guacamole, with chopped scallions, not those green onions, and unsalted tortilla chips," he said as salaciously as possible.

. . . Fred had both hands covering her crotch and was nearly as pale as Violet-Eyes. She shook her head fearfully.

. . . "Enough - for - everyone," he breathed, "Even - you."

. . . Fred dropped back into her chair, hands where they'd been, still shaking her head in fear.

. . . "You know I wish I could think like her," Isaik said, "Imagine, being able to turn stacking library books into a sex act."

. . . "Or what bees do with flowers," Roxanne offered and smiled at the horrified Tomboy.

. . . "Okay, I think we've given her enough fuel for her nightmares to reach the pole and back," he said, "Angie?"

. . . "I checked all the registrations for all of us, and your status as a Harem Master."

. . . "Gee, someone knows how to party," Aurora commented.

. . . "You two are included," Angie said sweetly, "Or did I get your request wrong?"

. . . The two embarrassed FarFuck'd decided to let that slide.

. . . "There's a number of art pieces, and a few books I needed to pick up. All in all, I enjoyed myself, as I chose to," she said coldly, then in Bimboesque tones, "I did good, dint I Massa?"

. . . "You did very well," he replied, trying not to smirk.

. . . I think she's settling in very well, he thought, She's got most of them under control. They seem to forget that she doesn't need to confront them directly. He glanced at Eko and Kay's little group and couldn't hide a frown. If I could ditch the lot of them . . . they'd just find another batch of spies, he reminded himself.

. . . "I take it you enjoyed yourselves as well?" he asked, then turned the knife. "In your nice new uniforms?"

. . . Kay looked like she'd been slugged. Eko seemed to be trying to figure out the insult. Adrian and the others were staying neutral.

. . . "All right. There's going to have to be some reorganization," he began, "There's fifteen of us, so there needs to be some subgroups. Angie is Alpha, Isaik is Beta. Warden, you'll take Maus, Hatta Mary, and I hope you don't mind me splitting up the pair but Aurora goes with you."

. . . "No problems," Aurora said. Roxanne merely shrugged.

. . . "Jen, you've got the second team, with Roxanne, Blossom and Rainbow."

. . . "Me!?!" the HyperDoll squawked, "But you just met me."

. . . "So I expect you to work with Roxanne. She's probably a better battler, but she doesn't have the background you do. Blossom and Rainbow are trained soldiers, but they aren't native to the Sunshine League."

. . . The HyperDoll was nodding and grinning so much she looked drugged out.

. . . "Sabrina, you've been with Seadamar, and Acerpalmatum. You're their team leader. As well as Daria and Ronette." He gestured to Violet-Eyes and her 'not-mother'.

. . . The pair gawped at that. "We're part of an ambassadorial party!" Violet-Eyes/Daria yelped.

. . . "You've forgotten what you offered me, if I could get you out of that mess?" he asked sweetly, "I'm going to let you join up, so you can see the mess through to the end. And I'll let a nice, well-behaved Pokègirl keep that nasty Ferality away. No icky ole' men for you two."

. . . Shana snorted at the pair's incredulity. "You've got room for one more, either a singleton or a squad. I'm offering."

. . . "Well Kay, I have an offer for the last place. Do you have anything to say?"

. . . "I - would like my group to have that slot," Kay said quietly.

. . . "We don't have to beg," Eko hissed.

. . . "Is she part Tomboy?" Shana asked. The Officer Jenny purpled, and Shana gave her a 'come and get some' smile. Eko backed down.

. . . "You are part of an ambassadorial party, so I can't order you into a Harem slot."

. . . "Might be interesting for you to try," she offered.

. . . "I'm already fighting a war on three fronts, only a complete idiot fights a war on eight fronts," he replied, "If you want a bunk, you might catch a berth with Jen's team. She could probably use your expertise."

. . . Shana looked at Roxanne, and grinned. "Yeah, that's got - possibilities."

. . . The FarFuck'd glared back.

. . . "Nights aren't going to be boring over there," he said, "The reorgan - "

. . . "What about me?" Fred asked.

. . . "What about you?" he replied.

. . . "I'm with them!" she shouted.

. . . "Whose bed do you want to find yourself in?" Angie asked.

. . . The Tomboy looked like she'd swallowed her tongue.

. . . "I'll take her. She'll make a fine DragKing," Sabrina said.

. . . "Fred?"

. . . The Tomboy's head whipped around from one unsympathetic face to another. "Fine!" she said as she laid her head on the table.

. . . "The reorganization will be due to the new enemy we're facing." He glanced around.

. . . It's like the air got, tight all of a sudden. Tension built, but they aren't tense, he thought, I'd better hit this once and back away.

. . . "Lindi Valiant sold her niece to demons, so they'd have the tech to capture us authors."

. . . Shana was on her feet, murder practically oozing from her pores, despite her calm tones. "Would you please repeat that?"

. . . "Daria, Lindi Valiant's niece," he said in equally reasonable tones, looking into the fury in Shana's eyes, "Was promised in payment to a group of demons, who provided the Sanctuary Goths the technical or technomystic systems to rip the authors from their home world, and bring them here."

. . . A faint telephone ring broke the ensuing silence as Shana slid back into her chair. The seeming unfazable woman looked stunned. "I need to make a call, can this wait?"

. . . "I'm afraid it will have to," Angie said, "Antoinette called, she said the doctor's gone nuts."

. . . "Meeting adjourned, catch up with us," he shouted as he headed for the door.

. . . The run back to the Carmen estate was ignored by the few people still out and about at the late hour. He held up a card, and the security force evidently expected to see him. Or they knew I'd shoot my way past them, he thought as he dashed for the house. The stitch in his side was past pain, but he somehow managed to ignore it. The front door was unlocked and the study was the only room with lights on.

. . . Inside the room that was equal parts trophies and objects d'art, Voltaire was protecting them from the whirlwind at the center, the only way she could, by blocking them with her body.

. . . Miguelito screamed incoherently, rushing to smash one object or another. Only the Francinestein's longer legs and reach kept him from destroying his mementos. Janus was hardly in condition to engage, let alone defeat the dervish. The girls poured in from all sides. Isaik pulled the battered Voltaire out of reach, while combat experts surrounded the smaller man, absorbing or parrying his berserk attacks.

. . . Shana stood next to Janus, and the two watched the dozen girls surrounding the much smaller man. "What the Hell?" she asked.

. . . "I'll find out," he replied, gasping from breath and wishing the pain would go away or just kill him, "What happened with your call?"

. . . "I think some people are going to go nuts," she said, "Like that."

. . . He took a deep breath, feeling better, vaguely alive, and able to deal with the man. He stepped between Roxanne and Jen, who'd figured out she wasn't to touch the screaming rage that seemed to attack without reason. He caught Miguelito's cane with both hands. The two struggled, Miguelito trying to wrench it loose, and Janus holding on and staring at the smaller man.

. . . The break came as Miguelito released the cane and threw himself on the floor, screaming and pounding the floor, tearing at his own clothes. Antoinette pushed between the girls and picked up the sobbing man. She looked apologetically at Janus and just shook her head, before carrying him away.

. . . While he looked around the study, the Pokègirls started to relax, coming out of their combat mode. They looked to each other, for wounds and injuries, then increasingly looked to him for explanations and direction. "If any of you left any baggage at the tavern, get a team to collect it, and see if they're willing to have our dinner as take out." He didn't hear an acknowledgment, but Jen's entire team left, then Sabrina's team followed. Kay stepped towards him, hands at the ready, then melted back into the crowd when he stared at her.

. . . Girl needs to learn how to ask, instead of assume. If she'd asked, I would have welcomed her help. The computer monitor is knocked over, he thought as he saw the cracks in the panel, and the smiling face at the center of the blow which damaged it, Bitch, he thought after a quick scan of the article. He shut the monitor off, then the computer.

. . . "You have the most fascinating friends," Shana said.

. . . "Are you including yourself?" he asked as he stood and considered. He grimaced at the pain, but kept moving.

. . . Somebody needs to stomp on Washu, somebody with big feet, he thought, then he smiled.

. . . "He Who Is Feared indeed," Shana said as she stepped away.

. . . "I thought it was 'He Who Must Be Feared'," he said as he headed to the set of feet he needed.

. . . "Translating the conjugation of that verb is difficult," Shana said breezily, "Where are you headed now, and why do I think I don't want to know."

. . . "You might want to thank the woman who saved Sanctuary. I also need her help to carry through the attack on someone else."

. . . "Hold up a second," she told him, "You are going to break something at the rate you're going. Why'd you scare off that Joy, old man, you can't be used to running that distance."

. . . "I'm not, and her sister tried to murder two of my girls, not arrest, murder. I don't really trust eithe of them. And they haven't been eager about trying to regain my trust."

. . . "You should realize how intimidating you are. Most Tamers in this world are preety thin soup," Shana explained as she touched his side where he hurt. The pain faded as she concentrated. "You lot are straight up aviation fuel. Would it kill you, to back off a notch?"

. . . "Asks the representative of the people who brought me here," he replied, "Thank you."

. . . She left her hands where they were. "You can't blame everybody for the screw up of some extremists."

. . . "I can blame me, if I didn't deal with them when I could have." He continued his walk down the corridor.

. . . "Why are all the fascinating ones insane?" Shana asked as she followed.

. . . A gentle knock, and a call from the other side. "Representative Alice, Her Excellency Shana, of Sanctuary's Diplomatic corps. If you are intending to accept Sanctuary's overture, you might wish to speak together. Your Excellency, if you want to know what stayed my hand, Representative Alice made an excellent argument. Her - Humanity - is known across the League."

. . . "It's known in Sanctuary as well," Shana said, "My pleasure milady."

. . . "What are you cooking up now?" Lian said as she adjusted her robe, "I've taken the Pokèwoman's out on Sadie Pokèns."

. . . "Washu took out a rather, pointed ad about the park, and I'm afraid Miguelito took it rather hard. I was wondering if you could - clarify the situation for the public?"

. . . "Why does he make writing a newspaper article sound like Battle of New Vegas?" Lian asked as she looked from one late night visitor to the other.

. . . "New Vegas?" Shana asked, "I never heard of that one."

. . . "The Stockton Legion met one of Mao's armies. None of Mao's people made it to shore, and the fish had a feast."

. . . "That's a good reason not to have heard about it. Pokègirls slaughtering Pokègirls so they could remain under the thumb of humans is not in the Sanctuary curriculum."

. . . Lian looked at him. "If you're through with the Ambassador, I might spend some time bringing her up to date about the culture and politics of the Sunshine League."

. . . "Oh course, ma'am," he said, "Bon appetite." He whispered to Shana, "I'll have the medics standing by."

. . . He left before he saw the confident woman's expression. Pity, I bet it was memorable.

. . . Fred froze as Kniphofia a.k.a. Blossom pinned her against the wall, Rainbow appeared behind, blocking Fred's escape. Kniphofia covered Fred's mouth quite gently, but with enough strength, she'd pinned the Tomboy to the wall. "No, no," she said quietly, "Not your time to talk. It's your time to lis-ten."

. . . "Did you really believe that we couldn't smell Councillor Valiant's stench on you, your skin, your clothes, your hair?" Rainbow asked as sniffed each one, "Did you wrap yourself in her sweat-soaked sheets, to touch yourself and dream what might have been?"

. . . Fred glared at her, but standing tiptoes to touch the ground took away the force of her argument.

. . . "We are Tyrannodames, little one. The S-Goths' mighty bulwark in defense, and their armored fist in attack," Kniphofia practically cooed to the sweating Tomboy, "None face us without fear, save the insane: the Widow and Jokette. When the objective must be taken, when the point must be held. We answer that call, not your breed, little one."

. . . "We give you this friendly warning, that you should change sides, or at the least, bide your time and support the one who thinks you are her friend," Rainbow offered.

. . . "You see, when the rumors of what befell the Psychic Corps slipped out, we knew that they were dilutions of the horrible truth. It was not Dameosaurs, or other slaves who attended the dying, it was us," Kniphofia said, as she ran a clawed finger over Fred's bare belly, "We saw and heard what they had seen, what had been done, and for the first time, we talked among ourselves, of fear."

. . . "We refused to say the name of our fear aloud. So it would not know us," Rainbow explained, "In one hundred years, Lindi Valiant will be a child's lesson of pride leading to failure and stupidity run wild. In a thousand thousand years, mothers will still whisper his name to dismay the disobedient, and boldy invoke it, to send lesser monsters scrambling back into the shadows."

. . . Kniphofia set Fred back down. "Just a friendly chat. Think of it as a grand opportunity. You can be the companion of heros. Or a statistic." The Tyrannodames vanished, leaving a badly shaken Tomboy shivering in their wake.

. . . "Considering Angie recommended I spend the night with you, rather than any of the others or a group, I need to knew what you like," he asked Jen.

. . . What I like?! she wondered, I can't really tell him that! Can I?

. . . Jen smiled, then drew in on herself. Now I don't feel like a longer a powerful Pokègirl, she thought as she fidgeted, More like a forlorn little girl, despite my height and figure. Maybe I should just tell him, what's he going to do? Say no at most.

. . . " 'Mistreatment, lack of discipline, lack of Taming, losing 7 battles in a row'," she said quietly, "Have you ever wondered what kind of moron would send a Bimbo into a fight in the first place?"

. . . "One thoroughly trained up might be a surprise for someone," he said as he approached her.

. . . I want him, more than my former Master, she thought, feeling her body react to him, My former Master would have freaked if Seadamar had made her request. 'Spend money on a Pokègirl?!' Of course his parents would have freaked the other way, 'Have one Pokègirl enslave another, that's just encouraging the wrong idea'. He actually trusts his girls. I can tell him. He'll think it's weird, and that will be that.

. . . She smiled at him. "Do you always lie to make people - people - I guess I am a people now." She regained some of her earlier hope and warmth. She even took a sexy pose. "You want me, as a bed mate, and as a warrior." She relaxed, but seemed to have retained an engaging air. "Would you have wanted me as a Bimbo?" She waited on pins and needles for his answer as he thought.

. . . "Honestly, no. A figure is nice, but breasts and hips are easily gotten. An active and engaging mind is harder to find," he admitted, "I'd rather have a partner, than a noisy blow-up doll that might cook instant ramen without burning the house down."

. . . She smirked at that. Okay. Maybe I can tell him. Maybe he will do it.

. . . She said, "You do lie to make people feel better."

. . . "If you must shade the truth, there's few better reasons," he said, and shrugged, "Truth is what I want. I've dealt with some, unusual tastes."

. . . "Okay," she said.

. . . Then spit it out, she told herself, Neither you nor the night are getting any younger. It's weird. It's embarrassing. He's got a DildoQueen in his Harem. He may not swing that way, but he doesn't deny the girl access to the rest of his Harem. You can tell him. Then wait for his decision.

. . . "I like getting beaten up. It's a turn on." She sighed and looked away. "So my Master sent me into fights, he didn't understand or believe that there is a big difference between being tied up and punched and kicked by my squishy, human Master, and getting the crap kicked out of me by a Fighting-type."

. . . "He couldn't really hurt you," he said, "But a warrior could. And you said he didn't listen, that there was a difference." He glanced around nervously.

. . . He's going to say no. He's going to say no and he's going to thrown you out of the Harem. He's going to day no and have you Level 5'd and keep you. He's not going to say anything, he just going to have you Level 5'd and then throw you out.

. . . "I can't say I'm . . . comfortable, hurting someone who hasn't hurt me or mine."

. . . She chuckled at that. "You couldn't hurt me with your fists."

. . . And I've been hurt worse other ways, she thought, I guess I should be ready to get hurt that way again.

. . . "I probably could, but I think I'll avoid that. I did take on a Pokègirl and beat her twice, despite her ambush and her being armed."

. . . What!? That's not possible! she thought as she stared at him in amazement.

. . . He shrugged. "So I keep the punches and kicks away from your more sensitive area, and a little slap and tickle there."

. . . "I'm sorry I thought it was a bad idea and you'd - " His hard slap on the ass interrupted her. "What are you doing?"

. . . "The breast, the face and the crotch are off limits. I thought I'd start somewhere obvious," he replied, "If you're not ready, I can wait."

. . . She grinned. "I'm ready!"

. . . "You won't mind a little roleplaying I hope," he said and landed a series of fast one -two combinations on her belly. He stepped back, took a boxer's stance as if she'd actually try and hit back. "Oh, what about a safe word?"

. . . " 'Safe word?'" she asked.

. . . "When you don't want to play any more? Depending on the role, normal pleas to stop would get confusing."

. . . 'Safe word'! He actually thinks he has to protect me?! she thought and nearly giggled.

. . . "How about what I grab your wrists, pin your legs and tell you 'enough'," she said, chuckling.

. . . He considered, and grimaced. "Yeah, that'll work."

. . . Safe word, he so cute! she thought, then took an elbow smash to the short ribs that turned into a shove. With his leg in position, she tripped and fell to the padded floor. But he may have a point.

. . . "That's disgusting," Red said, exchanging worried glances at the two Tyrannodames, who smiled back.

. . . "Entire breeds like rough play," Angie said, as she monitored the health and safety of the pair, "Her skin temps up three degrees, and her lips are up five. She's enjoying it. I just wonder if it's sending the right message."

. . . "He's got control, and he can take out his rage in a fairly controlled fashion," Doctor Marilyn said clinically, "That's what we were hoping for." She laughed. "He's blaming her for everything that has happened to him since he got here," she commented as he held Jen's throat and pounded her head on the padded floor. "As she's nearly orgasmic already."

. . . "Interesting ther - rapey you got there doc," Sabrina said, "I hope he's not that rough on the rest of us. He looks like he might kill somebody."

. . . "He has," Kay said, "Knifed an Amazon-chan to death." She handed the popcorn to Seadamar, who took one piece, examined it, then ate it, before handing it on.

. . . "I note the smell of sex is increasing in here as well."

. . . "Tell me about it," Blossom said and shook her head to clear it.

. . . "Where's Shana?" Rainbow asked, as she glanced around. Except for the doctor's pair, almost every other Pokègirl was here.

. . . " 'Cougar et her'," Angie said a she adjusted the equipment, "Don't ask, that's what the boss said. Up another degree. Skin temp is equal to core temp in all critical areas. There's no Pumara within a hundred miles."

. . . "You like that? Huh? I'll shove it in and gut you like fish from crotch to sternum!" came over the speakers.

. . . Daria started coughing uncontrollably.

. . . "Please don't hurt me!" she wailed as he squeezed her rock hard nipples through her shirt.

. . . Just fuck me! I'm gonna explode! she thought frantically as he rubbed his crotch on her bare belly.

. . . She had no problem faking need and pathos. "Please, Master! I'm a good Pokègirl!"

. . . She squealed as he lightly cuffed her crotch.

. . . "Beg for it!"

. . . "Please, Master, don't hurt me!" she wailed as he grabbed her arm and twisted it, cuing her roll onto her stomach, "Master! I'm a good Pokègirl," she whimpered.

. . . She squealed again as he slipped his hand in her suit and squeezed her erect clit. "Who wants to hear your noise? Maybe I should tear this off?"

. . . "Master you're killing me!"

. . . Ain't that the truth! she thought, Just stick it in! I'm dying!

. . . "Please Master, don't hurt your Pokègirl, just take me, I'm a good Pokègirl, I'm a faithful Pokègirl!"

. . . He grabbed her hair and slowly squeezed her clit, like he was pumping her up. "Did I ask?"

. . . "No, Master," she squeaked, "NO!" She felt the shattering orgasm running through her. "No, no no, no, for Master, first time for Master."

. . . "That's the game little one, I can do that when I want."

. . . "Yes, Master," she said languidly as his fingers stroked her lips and squeezed her clit more gently. The rhythm building the fire within her again.

. . . "You're going shopping with the others tomorrow."

. . . "Yes, Master ooo, like that Master, please?" She arched her back to raise her bottom as an icy coldness filled her vagina and faded. She squealed in delight.

. . . "You're going to buy the same style as the others, even if it is too sexy."

. . . "Yes, Master."

. . . "Or I won't ever hit you again."

. . . "No - Master!" she shouted then squealed as he slapped her bottom, hard.

. . . "Don't dispute your Master!" he thundered.

. . . "Yes, Master," she said, and got another hard spank.

. . . "Unless he's wrong."

. . . "Yes, Master," she giggled.

. . . "Fascinating technique," Seadamar said, as she took one kernel of popcorn from the nearly empty bag and ate it.

. . . "Black Ladies respond as well," Ronette replied as she checked the equipment, "She seems to be enjoying it, and a non-ejaculatory method would seem to be effective for an older Tamer. But he does need to penetrate her, as she is not really his until he does."

. . . "There are other sources of DNA than semen," Seadamar said and offered the bag back to Ronette.

. . . "I think that only works with kits, isn't that right - " she stopped as she turned to ask the Doctor, then turned back to the monitoring screens, "I believe I know what 'cougar et her' means."

. . . "Can S-Goths really bend that way?" Seadamar scanned all the others. "Do you believe we should join them?"

. . . "Perhaps later, everyone seems, occupied, at the moment."

. . . "How do you clean a torque wrench after it has been used that way?" Seadamar asked.

. . . "You, we, have a Master, ask him."

. . . Jen lay like a puddle of goo on the floor. What's he doing now?

. . . "You see," he giggled like a madman, almost giving her the strength to get up and crawl away in fear, "I really lured you here to kill you. How many orgasms can your invulnerable body take? How many have you had?" He gave the same spine twisting laugh.

. . . Then she understood. "You're crazy!" she laughed happily.

. . . I feel, warm all over, and safe, she thought, I never felt safe with my old Master. Neither could hurt me, well, this one could order it, but . . . She let the thought drift away on the clouds that filled her mind. It registered that he was sliding one of the bolsters under her hips, she tried to cooperate as much as possible.

. . . "Master?" she asked.

. . . "If you're mine, I have to claim you," he said quietly.

. . . "I want that," she said quietly, and felt the tears begin, "I want it. I want you."

. . . I want to be yours, I want to be part of your Harem, she lacked the strength to say.

. . . He wriggled into her, setting off little tremors inside her. Yes, finally!

. . . She clamped down so suddenly, he crossed his eyes. It doesn't hurt . . . much, he thought as he gritted his teeth, I just hope . . . she's not letting go, or tightening up. Thank goodness. Wait a sec, I just shove it in and she clamps down, that's ridiculous. Sex doesn't work that way, not even with Pokègirls.

. . . "Jen, you can let go, so I can - Jen? Jen! Jen! Are you all right?! Are you awake?! Are you - oh, part of you is awake. Urg, and very skilled, I like - oh that's illegal, surely - "

. . . He spurted within her and felt the past few hours work come back to him. "Okay, now I - you're tightening up again. You're starting up again, ah Jen? I think I - somebody else thinks different. Erk, don't get bigger in a smaller hole! Nobody listens to me anyway. If I was sixteen this might be funny. Good Lord is there a cat in there? How does - Maus might want to learn that trick. Purr vibration at both ends."

. . . "Should we assist our Master?" Ronette asked.

. . . " 'God helps them who help themselves,'" Seadamar said and smiled.

. . . "How is that apropos?"

. . . Seadamar turned. "I intend to help myself to an Android," the GunValkyrie said, "Resistance is futile."

. . . Jen pulled her exhausted Master atop her and laid his head on her breasts. I wish I was as boneless as I felt earlier, so I could just wrap myself completely around you. You had that snake-girl, maybe that's a dream of yours, she thought as she wrapped herself as completely around him as she could and lay still and quiet, to listen to his breathing and feel his heart beat.

. . . Why do you care? she asked no one, I'm a HyperDoll. Everyone is going to take one look at me and assume . . . but you don't care what they think, do you. Those people called you something, even were afraid of you, a human with a mid-range Harem. She gloried in him snuggling against her.

. . . Maybe I shouldn't care, about me, and care about us. I am yours and will be yours. I'll speak my mind, she grinned at the thought.

. . . "But politely," she promised, "And tomorrow." She ran a finger over his ear. "Is tomorrow."

. . . "You're taking a risk," the White Panthress told the Android.

. . . "Ancelot needs to know, and Gene' would filter the information," Ronette told her as they stood in the shadows outside the Carmen estate. "When did you steal the head off the gate?"

. . . " 'Bout an hour after I took it off her," Snowflake said, "I'll tell the boss. Do they know who you're really working for? Or just who you're supposed to be working for?"

. . . "I'm really working for Daria's protection," Ronette said, "I'm just passing information to you."

. . . The white Panthress shrugged and vanished.

. . . Who I'm really working for, is my business, not yours.

. . . Shana walked down the sunlit corridor, a goofy smile plastered on her face, and hope for the world filling her soul. She spotted 'He Who Is Feared' and his new HyperDoll coming out of a room. "Hi," she said.

. . . Jen was wearing an identical smile. "Hi," she replied, walked forward and the pair enfolded each other in a hug.

. . . "Breakfast?" Shana asked.

. . . "Brunch," Jen replied.

. . . "Come on, old man, leave the young-un's to themselves," she heard the most wonderful, gifted and athletic woman in the world tell Jen's Master.

. . . "Philosophy?" he asked as he hobbled off.

. . . "Hand-to-hand combat?" Lian asked in reply.

. . . "Are you sure humans can't use Healing Cycles?" he asked.

. . . "Pretty sure."

. . . Jen broke off the hug for a moment, her cheeks flushed red. "Hi," she said.

. . . "Hi."

. . . He looked over the data overlayed on the map. He was moving slowly and swiftly, despite the healing skills expended on him. "They said seventeen," he said, then shook his head, "Seems they lied about that as well."

. . . Half the Harem in Healing cycles, he thought, That must have been some party. I'm surprise the place is still standing. Ouch! I'm surprised I am.

. . . "It would seem," Miguelito said, looking around his study and feeling ashamed and embarrassed, and as stiff and sore as Janus did, "About yesterday. I was less than a gentleman. Far less. I have decided, to assemble the staff, and offer a formal apology. I wanted to tender my apology to you, sir, in private."

. . . "You're reaction was understandable. Now you understand why I didn't want you running day to day operations," he replied, trying not to groan as he moved, "Your apology is gratefully accepted, although you might want to apologize to Voltaire and Antoinette in person." He grimaced as a sudden twinge ran through him. He came out of it and saw Miguelito in similar straits.

. . . "I - spent most of the morning doing that," he admitted, "Theirs was less formal, but no less heartfelt." He grinned, then frowned at something that had nothing to do with physical discomfort. "It wasn't just my feeling on the project, I - I wanted something for the children, free of the pain and trouble that this world seems to hold for everyone."

. . . Janus called up the front pages of most of the region's morning papers on the screen, and a few from various other Leagues. "How fortunate you have a vicious monster on a leash, who can seem to do your dirty work."

. . . He let Janus put him in the chair so he could read the front page editorials from the local paper, and from some as far away as the Blue League. He was soon giggling. "Oh, Janus, you are evil. Enlisting Lain Alice to lambast Washu for her paid ad. You do realize that this also mentions you. Not by name but no one who knows you or has an inkling about you will fail to connect the dots."

. . . "Considering the sheer number of dots. That might be a good idea. My enemies already know where I am, it's time to let the others know, and the resurrection of Disneyland should attract the interest of most of them." He looked over at the map.

. . . "How did you find all of us anyway," he asked, "I am practically invisible once I'm out of sight."

. . . "The turmoil in Dundalk in Blue, then in Glascow, at practically the same time. The Tamer in the islands you sent Karen to, who just happens to make mystical tsunamis. The pirate force annihilated where no Navy fleet was, with the lone survivor claiming four 'peace and love' Legendaries attacked them. A major university nearly nuked in an 'accidental' fire the McMahons are desperately trying to cover up, as well as what else is going on in the Capitol League, needs no explanation. Sanctuary losing their only spy ring, a major field army and two of their super secret weapons in the Sunshine League, and gods alone know what's got Caesar's Prank stirred up. I just looked for the explosions that reshaped the universe, and when there were three in one line I said 'ah Author!'" Miguelito told him sternly, then laughed.

. . . "Okay, I deserved that. Won't the S-Goths find us the same way?"

. . . "Use human newspapers to track their foes when they have the mightiest mages and psychics available?" Miguelito said scornfully, "Surely you jest, sir." Then he laughed. "Besides, they don't have an example to watch to compare random action by Macavity to the real thing."

. . . He let Miguelito laugh, but considered the security aspects. "The Tyrannodames tracked me by scent. I suspect they might be able to follow up on the others. I refuse to believe that the pair who had Blossom and Rainbow were elite strategists. So there's someone else to worry about. I'm almost tempted to accept their offer and go, just to find out for certain. But the other threat draws my attention. I figure if I can deal with the mountains they don't see, that leaves the foothills they do see to the others."

. . . "You have a martyr complex, still."

. . . He shrugged. "I've never been a people person. Like you, they've been a curiosity, but never as interesting as the things I created inside my own head. Some surprised me, but they were few and far between."

. . . "They do love you," Miguelito said, concern for his friend obvious in his voice, "They truly do."

. . . "There is a fundamental flaw with 'Love thy Neighbor as thy Self.' It springs from an assumption not universally true."

. . . Isaik stayed close to him as he walked through the town, the address provided leading her and her Master to the home of the third place winner. "We should have brought the others," she told him.

. . . "I can feel eyes on me as well," he replied as they talked through the better area of town. "But I don't think they're ready to move. At least not yet."

. . . "They'll only hit us when they completely outnumber your entire Harem," Isaik said, "That's good news. Makes your loyal Pokègirl feel so much better knowing that dozens of mad things are waiting to attack us."

. . . "You want something to worry about, think about what to do after they spring their ambush, not when they'll spring their ambush." He continued walking.

. . . There are times I wish I could just finish the job they started, Isaik thought as they approached a cul-de-sac, and her Master broke into a run towards the house with the smoke pouring out through the windows.

. . . "Hello!" he shouted, pounding on the door, "If everything's all right I'll apologize, but if there's trouble -!" He waited a moment and took a deep breath, before shoving the door open, unleashing a tremendous plume of smoke. He ran through the house, straight towards the kitchen, that seemed to be the source of all the smoke. "Isiak! Check for others!" he ordered. Her magic located two people disoriented from the smoke, and she led them outside.

. . . He sprayed the burning stove area with CO2. Terrific, he thought as he turned the exhaust fan on high, to ventilate the place, One minor spell. I can create a smokescreen, or a fogscreen of CO2. If I learn to make bubbles, I'll be as powerful as Sailor Mercury. He got the burning food extinguished and opened the kitchen door to get it outside. In the distance, he heard the sirens of fire engines approaching.

. . . He saw the pair of humans waiting on the lawn, as he took a deep breath and plunged back in the house to search for any other survivors. Isaik's on the way out with someone, he thought, And I'll let the experts complete their work while I clear out.

. . . On the lawn, the two humans were shying away from whatever Isaik was holding.

. . . "Just keep it away from us!" the male said of the sub-scale Pokègirl that Isaik held.

. . . "You don't want me Master?" the tiny creature whimpered, her eyes almost too large and tear-filled to be believed. "Whaaaa!!" The creature's noise rivaled the sirens of the approaching fire brigade.

. . . "Sir, my GunValkyrie - " he began, and was immediately interrupted.

. . . "You want her she's yours! You saved our house, that's payment enough." The man had his 'dex out and he held out his own, to transfer the ownership officially.

. . . "I'll take her away," he promised, and turned Isaik towards home and started walking, pushing the small Pokègirl ahead of her.

. . . The smallest of the three struggled in Isaik's grip. "My Master!"

. . . "We're taking you to your new Master," he told her gently.

. . . "I don't want another Master?" the tiny girl sobbed, "I want a Master who loves me! Whaaa waa waa!"

. . . Isaik glanced at him with a murderous expression.

. . . If she wants to murder the critter, the previous owners, or both, I neither know nor care, he thought as he guided Isaik along, Seadamar wanted her, she'll get her and a warning to keep a close eye on her. I suspect the girl's enthusiasm gets her in trouble.

. . . Once the little Pokègirl fell into a near torpor from all her crying, the journey passed in silence. The arrival back at the Carmen estate brought the sub-scale back to life. "Does, does my new Master live here?" she asked.

. . . She seems to easily accept that I am not her Master, he thought, Odd, and a little disturbing.

. . . "Yes, your Master lives here, at least temporarily," he replied.

. . . "You're taking me to my Master?" the littlest one asked, "You don't hate me too?" She tried her puppy dog eyes on him.

. . . "I am not your Master, but your Master is one of my Pokègirls. You must do as she says, if you want to make her happy."

. . . "I do! I do! I do! I do! I do! I do!" the subscale girl shouted, bouncing in Isaik's grip.

. . . "Then listen carefully to her, and remember that she has responsibilities too."

. . . Seadamar looked up as they entered the workshop. "Master? Her eyes dropped to what Isaik was holding out to her. "Master?" she asked again as she carefully took the HandMaid, and hugged her to her shoulder. The shine in her eyes told them what they needed to know.

. . . "Master," the little one said hopefully, and Seadamar nodded.

. . . Isaik tugged on his hand and led him away.

. . . "I'll have to remember to tell Seadamar to keep a curb on her enthusiasm," he said, and closed the door, "And you've been a good girl, not exploding with what you have to say."

. . . "That girl will be trouble," Isiak said flatly, "Dangerous trouble."

. . . "How so?"

. . . "She is not - disciplined," she said, "Even compared to the rest of us."

. . . "She's also not mine. She belongs to Seadamar."

. . . "That doesn't change things."

. . . "That changes one important thing. Seadamar doesn't want a pet, or a lover, she wants a daughter."

. . . Isaik's mouth dropped open.

. . . "Each of these girls, Angie, Sabrina, Seadamar, that poor DenMother, they were all failed experiments, laboratory trash. Why an otherwise healthy, stable GunValkyrie?"

. . . "She's sterile," Isaik realized with horror, "No Partho, no impregnation, no - kids." She stared at her Master, fright etched on her face.

. . . "Now she has a kid to take care of, and raise," he explained, "That's why she wanted her." He smirked. "I want you to keep talking, but trust your Master. Sometimes, he isn't completely stupid."

. . . "Just completely crazy," Isaik said.

. . . "I keep you around don't I?" he replied and walked away, "Now we have shopping to do. He sighed sadly. "Can I just sleep through it all?"

. . . "Nope, you're in Hell now, Master." Isaik gave an evil laugh.

. . . Her Master replied with his proven bonechiller.

. . . Isaik tried and failed to match it.

. . . "Like this," he said and gave it again, "Start low, end high, and change tempo as you raise pitch." He gave it again.

. . . "You should go to Sanctuary, and laugh like that the minute you get in front of their government officials. The war would be over in a week."

. . . The collection of laughing, chattering Pokègirls, on the day after Sadie Pokens brought some odd looks, especially with the Master at the center of the formation looking beaten down and hangdog. Even the odd group walking outside the 'convoy' couldn't overwhelm the commotion inside the group.

. . . His head came up. Certainly painful as a spear hit him. "Trouble! Big Trouble!" he shouted as he halted and pulled for his pistol.

. . . "Port lock!" Daria called in alert.

. . . "Port out, locked out!" Underworld warned from where Isaik had been standing. The few bystanders had scattered, just in time.

. . . I normally wouldn't shoot a pretty girl in the head, without being introduced, he thought as the ring of older girls and women materialized within the convoy. He fired at the nearest, less than a yard away, right through the ear. The geyser of matter out her other ear spoke to her death.

. . . Blossom and Rainbow, in their battleforms, swept 150ø arcs with their massive tails, ramming the collected girls into one mass directly ahead. Every girl threw themselves at the enemy.

. . . What had to be a perfect ambush, he thought as he shot one at close range three times, she curled up on the ground like a pill bug. Falls apart against a prepared target.

. . . One of the least frilly girls had Shana down on the ground. He walked up and fired point blank at her head and grabbed her hair and yanked back. Once her head was far enough away, he kicked the girl with the facial markings in her face. Six of the women with gray in their hair all vanished. Good luck, he thought as he offered his hand to the fallen Sanctuary agent and scanned the battle field. Angie was in WarMech mode and was standing on the back of a girl whose legs had been neatly burned off. The Furious Titmouse screamed incoherently and ripped both of the girl's arms off.

. . . He grimaced and signaled Underworld, to get Angie off the fallen girl. Underworld looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

. . . "Now!" he shouted, over the screams and cries of the wounded. Seadamar and her 'daughter' moved up to help Isaik with the mad Titmouse.

. . . He looked at the other Angie, and watched the woman struggling in the grip of her entire Harem as she tried to kick or stomp the woman lying prostrate before her. The agent's inarticulate screams sounded almost like the ringing of bells, while implying every invective known to man.

. . . He looked at the others. One of the victims of the sweep tried to escape, and Blossom's battleform stepped down on the girl's legs and pelvis, crushing them, then kicked her screaming form back into the pile. Roxanne, Jen, and Aurora were already on their hands and knees, puking their guts out on the road. Sabrina looked green as she looked around, when she focused on her colleagues, she got permission or the final push and fell to her knees and vomited up all the treats she'd sampled during the shopping. Eriko and Erika's groups were keeping Maus, Hatta Mary and Warden from finishing what they'd started with several of the girls who cowered in a circle.

. . . Daria and Ronette looked around in horror at the carnage. Shana massaged her throat and looked at the fallen. Fred was part of the hands and knees group.

. . . He walked over to the agent. "Agent Douglas!" he roared at her, "Control yourself!"

. . . The woman's screaming rage transformed into a cold rage. "They are the Celestial Alliance," she growled.

. . . He drew back. "I thought they were a myth," he whispered.

. . . "Seems you can't believe everything away," she growled, shook off her Harem, and walked away from him.

. . . "Port lock is still in place," Daria reported, looking very pale, even for her.

. . . He looked at Isiak, who shook her head. "We need to hold these captives, and get some help."

. . . "Phone's out," Angie's HyperDoll reported.

. . . "Blossom, take agent Douglas's - ?" he began.

. . . "Take my HyperDoll," Angie said angrily, then softened her tone, "Sorry, Jodie you're most qualified."

. . . "Okay boss," the HyperDoll said as she ran up the Tyrannodame's tail, and the pair raced off.

. . . He looked around as the wounded were dragged into a circle. The whimpering, mewling pack cried obviously and openly. If you're trying to get my sympathy, he thought, feeling a murderous rage build, You are taking the worst path. You don't attack from ambush, then cry for mercy. The mercy you'll get is a bullet.

. . . He looked at Roxanne and Jen approaching. "Sorry," the HyperDoll offered, "I - "

. . . "This is war, not the games you're used to playing," he replied sympathetically, "In war you either kill, or you cripple, until they surrender. This is what it looks, and smells like."

. . . "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say will be taken down and used in evidence against you. Any attempt to access the Celestial Awareness will be taken as an admition of guilt and will add the further charge of evading lawful custody. If you desire one, but cannot afford one, an advocate will be provided for you at no cost," Angie, the SLIS agent told them. Eriko and Erika had reverted to being police, and had their Harems guarding the prisoners, instead of seeing to their wounds.

. . . "Can't be easy, not helping them," he said, "But it's better to get them arrested."

. . . "Why did they attack us?" Jen asked, "And how did we win, they had us 3 to 2."

. . . "We were expecting a fight, they were expecting a snatch and grab. If we'd been ten more feet ahead, they would have surrounded the rest of you, and two of them would have ported away with me," he replied, "Stupid, stupid."

. . . "Not to step on your business, but why not charge them, and why not interrogate them?" he asked the SLIS officer as they walked through the station.

. . . "Megami are more social than most. Keeping them isolated increases their anxiety, and not charging them means we don't have to provide them with a lawyer."

. . . "It also leaves them to stew about what's happening to their Masters," he realized, "Yes, I thought that was why you were taking the pictures of their faces. The Megami's facial markings are as distinctive as fingerprints."

. . . "You'd make a good cop," the officer smiled when he said it.

. . . "No, I don't have your tolerance for idiots, thank you for explaining it to one." He turned to walk away, when he thought, "Have any of them been cooperative, and are any of them Feral?"

. . . "A couple, why?" the officer asked, "And despite your reputation, I'm not going to do anything illegal, especially anything that will hamper the case against these terrorists. We've got the brick out of the wall. Most of us want to take the entire wall down."

. . . "I'll defer to your advice, but I have a few questions of my own. Now, they - will be - charged with attempted kidnaping, assault on law officers and creating a public affray, but what about attack on diplomatic persons?"

. . . "The diplomat would have to be willing to press charges and testify, most don't," he said, "So the charges are pretty minor against them. What have you got in mind?"

. . . "A little data mining."

. . . "That's it?" he commented on the single sheet of parchment, signed in blood at the bottom. "I thought this would go on for pages and pages." He looked at Ronette and Daria leaving. They looked over their shoulders with horror at the paper.

. . . "The type is small, the handwriting crabbed, but the text is legible and three of us have read the same words," Miguelito said, "I may join the police, or at least offer myself as a consultant. They have the most interesting puzzles."

. . . "So all the dates and locations are just euphemisms," he said disappointedly, "No, 'bring the kids to Yahoo Atoll on October 23 of the year of the eclipse?"

. . . "No, 'the Most Gawd-Forsaken Place Of Earth' and 'the Conjunction of the Maker and the Deceiver', that's repeated several times, along with the machine that evidently brought you here," Miguelito said. He glanced at the closed door before continuing, "Why buy such a thing, if they had Sukebe's lab, why not use his?"

. . . "There's no guarantee they could touch our world from this one. There's also the possibility that they wouldn't have sufficient reality to touch us even if they could travel there, they are figments of our imagination after all." He looked at

. . . "So you don't subscribe to the idea that you are just writing down things that already exist?" Miguelito asked.

. . . "Quantum Mechanics say that's a possibility, but Quantum Mechanics is a rotten way to describe macroscopic phenomena," he said, "Besides, I know all the bits I mixed together to create most of the scenes I wrote. You're mostly a villain from a TV show, the Megami are from a TV show, the idea of an author entering his own world has also been done. I remember three books where it occurs. It always ends badly. The important thing is, we need information, and we need it soon."

. . . "And there's an untapped source, sitting in the local lockup, under heavy guard, and soon under and indictment if not a death sentence."

. . . "Correct," he said, "And there's a way out, or a way to get them to spill the beans." He smiled.

. . . "All I'm asking is to drop the charges, or at least promise to drop the charges against that one, if she has the information," he explained to Shana as they looked at the feed from the prospect's cell. Unlike most of the Megami prisoners, this one wore a practical jacket and slacks combination. White trimmed with blue, and this one seemed perpetually nervous as she looked around the room she'd been imprisoned in.

. . . "Why? So you can sail off and attack the demonic invasion? Sanctuary needs you and the others, if they are going to stop being a threat. Ancelot is going to need you. Maybe most of all, because you're the only one who's struck back in a meaningful way."

. . . "That's because I'm a vicious bastard," he replied, "I'm no diplomat, I don't sit around drinking tea and discussing the whichness of why, and what shape the table is supposed to be. I believe in forthright communications. You tell me what you need, I tell you what I need, and then we start with the fiddly bits. Otherwise you aim me at a problem, and I crush it."

. . . Shana grinned. "I want her punished," she said.

. . . "Don't worry, the Tyrannodames gave me a very appropriate name," he said and grinned.

. . . The Megami looked around the room she'd been moved to. A table bolted to the floor, one chair she sat in, a door, and a very obvious surveillance camera. She'd seen the dozen or so of her sisters splayed out on autopsy tables, and the row on row of imprisoned girls and women. The aloneness of the place ate at her. Her confidence, her certainty about their mission, which had never been high, and her feeling of being part of a greater whole.

. . . He walked in, their target. Alone. Without guards or visible weapons, bold as the day is long. He closed the door behind him, and regarded her with cold eyes. An equation to solve, or perhaps a piece of meat to be serviced. She tested the manacles holding her wrists behind her back and her ankles together, that prevented easy movement, and the use of her powers. He looked at her, and blinked occasionally. He showed no expression, no fear, no hate, no lust and no sympathy. She shifted nervously, glad for any company, no matter how perilous.

. . . He'd watched her long enough to guess a few things, and to tailor his approach. He walked towards the table, and she inhaled sharply, sitting up straighter, her expression one of uncertainty, not fear. But she refused to look directly at his face when he moved, stealing little looks at most. He walked around the table, stopping behind her, holding his breath, and waiting. Her head made small jerky side-to-side movements, as she tried to catch sight of the man she couldn't see, hear or sense. Finally, she turned to look behind her, and nearly withered in his stare.

. . . He continued his circuit, until he stood under the camera. "You have been informed that you need not say anything, until you've consulted your advocate? Nod or shake your head."

. . . She nodded.

. . . "Let the record show that the Feral has nodded," he said, then reached up and pulled something out of the camera. The small red light on the camera went out. She looked at him fearfully, as he walked around the table, and stopped behind her. Although this time he kept breathing. He watched her stare across the table as he stared at the blue highlights in her black hair.

. . . She's pretty, and this one at least seems to know what to do when the plan falls apart. Maybe she's not too far gone to be saved. Besides, it will be fun to toss in another completely random element into my already ridiculously complicated life. Yes, I enjoy getting beaten up, how did you know?

. . . He kept staring at her head. She tried her best not to look around, making the same jerky side-to-side motions as she started to look and pulled herself back, or she looked down at her lap, then to the dead camera, and back. Anything but what was looming directly behind her.

. . . I wish I could see her sweat, or maybe I should just bend down and breathe on her, he thought, before she jerked around to look at him, Oh well, too late, save that for later.

. . . He walked around her, and she tracked him. He leaned close, she gasped again, and pressed her legs together. He reached under the table and pulled out a length of steel pipe. She shied away from the club and looked fearfully at him for any sign of his intentions.

. . . The club isn't the weapon, he thought as he smiled at her, stroking the pipe gently. Her cheeks colored and she looked away. He tried not to laugh as he walked away and felt her gaze nearly burning a hole in the back of his neck. Whatever had held it under the table now held it as he set it across the door as a bar. He turned back and stared at her, watching her eyes dart from him to the bar, and back. He let her puzzle on that a bit as he stood, and stared at her, no expression or interest on his face.

. . . She finally gave up, and shifted to concentrate on the table.

. . . Except she keeps nervously licking her lips, he thought, She didn't do that in the cell, at least not while I was watching.

. . . He pulled the real weapon out of the middle of the pipe, and unrolled it onto the table. A map of the southern Pacific, with Antarctica towards him.

. . . She's staring at it as if it's going to bite her, he thought as he walked up behind her unnoticed, grabbed her by the collar and while she squeaked with alarm, he carefully set her face next to the two notations made on the map. Two circles near each other. One labeled 'Pacific pole of inaccessibility', and the other 'R'lyeh'.

. . . She stared at the two markings and began trying to squirm out of his grip and gasping for breath. He left her that way for a bit, standing behind her and holding her collar so she couldn't get away. Then he slid the chair away with his foot, so she couldn't sit back down. She simply lay on the table, no longer struggling, he released her collar, and then he pulled her slacks down to her knees. She gasped and twisted to look at him, but the red, silk boxer shorts retained some of her modesty. Her skin began to take on the hue of her shorts and her butt tightened up, making the shorts tight. While she stared at him in horror, he looked at the shorts, then looked at her face over the top of his glasses. She immediately straightened out, looking at the far wall, and growing ruddier with each passing moment.

. . . She gasped again as he laid his hand near her head, then the other, leaning over her resting on his just his fingertips. Not touching any part of her, yet. She was hyperventilating now. Her fingers accidently brushed him, and they withdrew like a hermit crab, closing her hands into tight fists. She tucked her head down, as she shivered violently.

. . . He saw the tears as she squeezed her eyes shut. Not the typical Megami 'I'm cute and helpless feel sorry for me' tears, he thought, and stifled the urge to help her, Interrogation is about denying the other control. Right now, she's doing my work, making herself feel like she's suffocating, while she gulps in more and more air.

. . . He shocked her by using his foot to yank her slacks down to her ankles. She squealed in response and tried to rise up, only to touch him and freeze.

. . . Heart beating like a triphammer, gasping for air in a room full of it, the important parts nearly naked and touching a man's corresponding parts, and she's Feral, he thought as he looked at the deep bruise his gunshot had left on her face. She made little strangled sounds and squirmed in a way that wouldn't have been erotic, if she hadn't been touching him so intimately.

. . . He brushed her hair over one ear. She stifled a little whine and froze. He leaned close and breathed, "Why?" She shivered more, as his breath tickled, when she didn't answer, he drew it out. "Whhhhhhhyyyyyy?"

. . . The whimpering ceased as her eyes glowed. She stood up, pushing him away and turning to confront him. "You will not harm us, we are not under arrest here. Your attempt at seduction will not - "

. . . He leaned over and pulled up her pants.

. . . "No!" she squealed, the light in her eyes guttering out as she bowed her knees so he couldn't cover her up. "If I tell you, you'll - ?" she started the cry, then stopped when he yanked on her slacks again.

. . . "Why?" he said as he grabbed her collar and pulled at her slacks, toppling her over on her back onto the table. He grabbed her chin and twisted her head to look at the two markings. "Why?!" he repeated.

. . . She whimpered again and shook her head.

. . . I won't beat her head on the table, he thought, then grinned at her, and chuckled.

. . . "Okay, you win, I can't hurt you. I can leave you Feral."

. . . That got her, he thought as her horror increased. He leaned against her, his crotch against hers.

. . . "And, I'll start a rumor, in such a way that it will believed. That when Megami and Megami-Sama go Feral, an organ within them that keeps their Feral state light, begins to ripen. At the peak of ripeness, it can be harvested, and made into an elixir which gives to immortality, or immense sexual potency, or contact with the Cosmic Consciousness. Or maybe I'll start all three, and spread the rumor that the other rumors are false. But people will still believe: the angry, the desperate, those who feel the approach of years, or just want an advantage. The ruthless and merciless will catch you kind by the hundreds. The weaklings you always choose as Masters won't stop them, could never stop them. In one year, you'll go from would-be world conquerors, to hunted animals. Every Megami at a Pokècenter, every Megami manipulating people, every Megami thinking they're safe and immune, will be dragged off by the terrible and cunning, and reduced to Ferality, before being torn to pieces by people who search for something that is not there. And the more the Megami protest, the more people will believe, because it's what most of the hunters would do if the situation were reversed."

. . . "No," she whimpered, crying in terror.

. . . His finger stabbed the map. "Why?"

. . . She broke into terrified sobs. "I don't know! I don't know! Please don't kill us! Please don't slaughter all of us! Please! Please! Please! Please!" she begged piteously.

. . . "Silence!" he commanded as he hauled her upright by her collar.

. . . Tears still fell, and her lip trembled. She shook her head slightly and pleaded with her eyes. He only glared at her.

. . . "If you cannot tell me so simple a truth, why should I trust you to guide me there?" he whispered fiercely.

. . . Hope flared and she moved to maintain it. "I apologize. I will never do it again. I will never do it again, Master. I will never lie to you."

. . . He stared at her, until hope died in her. "You need speak no untruth to deceive. You will apologize on bended knee to the woman you assaulted. You will vow on your life to serve me faithfully and without reservation or competition." She was nodding. "Or - " He left it hang and let her anxiety build. "You will live just long enough to see the Wild Hunt begin in earnest, and I will throw you to the most brutal and merciless I can find. Are we clear?"

. . . "Yes, Master," she squeaked.

. . . He dragged the chair around and sat her down in it, her slacks still around her ankles. "When?"

. . . "Thirty-five days."

. . . "Which of the two?"

. . . "The pole, the proximity to R'lyeh was unrelated."

. . . "What are they bringing over?"

. . . "Their entire realm," she said, and she drew in on herself.

. . . This time, he knelt down and pulled her into his arms. I wonder if they can grab George Lucas or Kevin Anderson, or go back in time to grab Doc Smith.

. . . The Tyrannodames accompanied the Titmouse as she walked through the darkness to a corner of the Carmen estate. A greenhouse that was not in use. Angie pushed the door open and walked inside, changing into her WarMech form, while Blossom and Rainbow remained in their more human forms. The wire basket hanging from the ceiling held what they sought. Angie looked without pity at the terrified form held within.

. . . "Please, don't hurt me again," the Megami whimpered, the stumps of her legs as useless as her missing arms to draw her out of harms way.

. . . "After what you planned, after what you schemed, after the misery and death you would inflict on our world!' the WarMech shouted, setting the Megami trembling. She drew a dagger with a rune-covered blade. "You are fortunate I still want to hurt you."

. . . The Megami screamed in manifest agony as the blade bit into her flesh four times.

. . . He walked out of the interrogation room. The Megami was asleep, curled up on the table. He looked at the officer and Shana. "You got the information?" he asked.

. . . The officer nodded, staring at him in fear.

. . . "Punished enough?" he asked Shana.

. . . "More than sufficient," the Ophanim said quietly.

. . . "Good." He walked out of the corridor and to the office area.

. . . "I'm glad he doesn't like doing that, because I don't think anybody could keep something from him," Shana said.

. . . "I'm just glad we dropped all charges, I don't think we could get a conviction after that little scene."

. . . Angie set the bowl near the still-tearful Megami. "Now, I suggest you enjoy your food, and your restored limbs. You might also remember your friend in the corner. Maybe if you want to help her, you'll agree to help us." Angie said as she closed the door on the pair of Megami. One newly regenerated, and the other, a still-living victim of Underworld's teleport block. Both sniveling in terror.

. . . "Should we tell the others?" Rainbow asked their Alpha as the trio walked the perimeter.

. . . "Once they're in the mood to cooperate," she said, "Maybe a couple of tame Megami will be useful. Otherwise, we can use them for bait."

. . . The two Tyrannodames glanced at each other, but said nothing.

. . . It was the gentle hug as soon as he stepped in the door that surprised hm. Maus, he thought, She must have worried a lot. He felt her furry body and feathered wings wrapping themselves around him. He let himself lean against her, letting her just hold him.

. . . "Gd Mzr," she purred, giving him a gentle lap on the neck.

. . . "I don't feel very good. I killed at least one of them, and I just finished torturing another." He sighed. "I try not to hurt people, at home I tried to help them, but here, no one - outside of my Harem and friends, seems to want to give me the chance. They're all so afraid I'll say 'no', they'll alienate me instantly, before giving me a chance to even say 'maybe'."

. . . She nuzzled his neck and purred. He stood there, letting her hold him.

. . . Daria looked on the scene of the pair, and shook her head. She kept watching, and wondering, What would it be like? To be had by a decent Tamer. To be able to let go and simply be, like these girls do. Instead of running around like a scalded Kitten to prove I exist. Leave the existential question to someone else, someone who can walk through dreams and by power and terror, establish justice. Now who's fantasizing?

. . . She turned around to catch Fred watching her wistfully. She smirked, then ran at the redhead. A moment later she was chasing the girl down the hall. If she's afraid I'll catch her and Tame her, she's got that right!

. . . Maus led her Master to the bath house. I hate seeing him this way, but if he wasn't this way, he wouldn't be as good a Master, she thought as she helped him undress and she gently soaped his body, and rubbed a soft cloth over his skin. I wish he were feeling friskier. I could shampoo myself and give him a real lathering, she thought wistfully, But at least he isn't shying away.

. . . Rinsed off, redressed in bed clothes, she escorted him to the room she and Warden had set aside. She'd held him and leaned against him the whole walk, letting him lead, just letting him know she was there, that she loved him, and would follow him.

. . . Warden waited in the bed. "You missed dinner," she said, "I can introduce something that will help you sleep."

. . . "Thank you, no, a full stomach and a massage would probably do that," he said as he laid in the bed next to the Bust Angel. Maus spooned in behind him.

. . . "Then drink," she said quietly, leaning close and helping him lie atop her so he could suckle. Maus pressed herself against him, covering them with her wings and purred softly.

. . . He understands, he does what needs doing, but he hates himself for that, Maus thought, We don't hate you Master. Pokègirls can hate their Masters, but none of us hate you. We understand, maybe better than humans would, that war is about killing, and being killed. The carefree game of 'Capture the Feral/Fight the Menace' is not what we were born for. War is what we were made for, not what your kind was made for.

. . . He pulled away from Warden slightly. "Thank you."

. . . "You're welcome." She ran a hand through his hair. "Rest now. Too many days, not enough rest," she told him.

. . . He didn't even nod, simply spooning against her, and Maus moved up tight against him. Her wings and Warden's made their covers. The pair sat, and listened. A soft touch or word, a gentle purr, and the nightmares fled. They lay all night, warding his sleep, making his dreams of peace and contentment.

. . . "Lv yoo, Mstrr," she purred as he passed into the deeper sleep, and one would watch, while the other slept. He would not be alone.

. . . The nervous Megami glanced around, into the darkness, out of the greenhouse. She saw nothing, heard nothing and the Cosmic Awareness showed her nothing within reach of the greenhouse. She slipped out, and adjusted her newly-created robes, before she began her spell.

. . . The jaws of something huge closed on her legs, slicing them from her body. Before she could scream, powerful hands bore her to the ground and covered her mouth with a vice-like force.

. . . A light, barely a lantern, illuminated the area. One of the Tyrannodames, in battleform, swallowed the remainder of her legs. Another in human-form held her down and muffled her screams. The Titmouse with the mad eyes looked down on her.

. . . "I gave you a chance," she said, "Tried to be reasonable. Even found a way you could accomplish the spirit of your mission. What I'd hoped was your mission. You being out here ready to call down the dogs proves that saving the world from that invasion really isn't your mission, is it?" She shook her head. "Don't answer, I already know. It seems our Master has already accomplished what I'd hoped to do. Amazing, he does in a few hours what I thought would take days." She leaned close to the Megami. "That's why they're the Masters," she intoned slowly, "And we serve them."

. . . Her pleading gaze looked down at the spreading puddle of blood below her skirt.

. . . "No," the Titmouse told her, "Not this time. You had your chance, you knew the risks, and the costs. Now you, and your friend in there, will pay them. I honestly wanted a group of Megami to help us. Those demons threaten to slaughter everything, and perhaps my Master would find a way to stop that. More power would have made that job far easier, but only power that would not turn in his hand. That isn't you, and it doesn't look good for your friend."

. . . Her vision graying out and her arms becoming heavy, she tried to speak. The Tyrannodame removed her hand. "Please, help me. I'm afraid to die."

. . . "Wrong answer again," the Titmouse said, "You should have asked to help us, to save the world. But you are tied up in yourself. Our kind, the real ones, had the same failings. They are a wonderful, marvelous race full of drives and energy, aren't they? Their sense of what is seen and unseen rivals nearly anything and everything else. This world, a handful of ideas, and here it is. But we cannot enslave them. That is your way. That is the S-Goths' way. That is not our way. There are more of us than you know. We will find you. We will hunt you down. We will destroy all of you false claimants. And at the last, you will know the truth of who opposes you. Blossom, Rainbow, look away. Our friend deserves at least that much."

. . . Blossom stepped away from the Megami as she bled out. What the Hell is going on?

. . . The instant of nearly blinding light threw everything into harsh contrast, either light or shadow. No gray, no penumbra, just rough edges. Then darkness returned.

. . . I cast no shadow, Blossom thought, then turned back at Rainbow's whimper. Her friend and ally was still in her battleform, crouched and whimpered as the Titmouse petted her flank.

. . . "There, there," Angie said gently, "Be not afraid."

. . . The Megami's corpse was horrible in ways Blossom was unfamiliar with. Revelation, she thought of the Megami's rictus of dread, 'I screwed up and now I'm going to pay for it'. Too bad. Too many keep trying to bet against us, and they always lose. The wise hedge their bets, helping us, yet keeping their own council. Though we lose too.

. . . "There, there," Angie soothed the trembling Rainbow.

. . . Blossom entered the greenhouse, to drag out their other captive, and use her battleform to disguise the intermingled Megami as Tyrannodame droppings.

. . . The Megami sniveled as she lay in her cell. Terror, need, feelings of worthlessness and realization of unknown power had gripped and shaken her. Gone were her certainty in the cause, in the wisdom of the Cosmic Consciousness, and in herself as a Pokègirl. Why didn't he finish? Because he found me repulsive? she wondered as she hugged her knees to her chest and cried, Why didn't he take me? Because he found me insignificant? I could not have withstood him. I would have welcomed it. Why didn't he take me? Because he saw me as evil? As an example of what we both are fighting?

. . . Because it would deny you choice, came the answer unbidden.

. . . That's different from the Cosmic Awareness, she thought as she raised her head, It feels . . . softer, less . . . certain, but I, I , I think it loves me. She felt the tears coming, her fear undiminished, but changed to what would happen next, rather than what had happened previously. I am not bound, I am not charged, she thought, And he will not rape one able to offer an affirmative. He could have, and I would not have denied, but I would not have been able to deny.

. . . She sat up, felt the wetness of her clothes that was not all fear sweat and tears. It is not that important, she thought, The mission is, the real mission. She breathed deep to center herself.

. . . She stood in the middle of the cell, facing the cameras. "Tomorrow, I wish to speak with him again. I would like a shower or cleaning cycle before I do. But I will meet with him without one, if it would be inconvenient. Thank you." She nodded to whomever was on duty.

. . . She climbed back onto the pallet and closed her eyes. Soon after she had fallen asleep, a capture beam reduced her to light. While her room was cleaned and she went through a Cleaning and Grooming cycle, she thought of her new Master, and what she would say.

. . . "Slow, slow," Voltaire told the HandMaid as she taught her some of the secrets of cooking.

. . . Seadamar looked on. Food was not high on her list of priorities. But it might be important to my Harem sisters, and my Master.

. . . "New tools," Voltaire told Seadamar, who nodded.

. . . She's different, and smaller. She has different leverages and a mass deficit. Human-sized tools are incorrect, she grinned at the tiny girl's enthusiasm.

. . . 'Miguelito,' Voltaire mouthed as she pointed at the HandMaid.

. . . "Have you decided on a name?" Seadamar asked, "My Master is funny about having his Pokègirls pick their own names."

. . . "Alba," the tiny girl said as she considered the method for cracking an egg into the bowl. "It means sunrise, I thought of Dawn, but that's too close to Aurora's and Roxanne's names."

. . . "Like a drum," Voltaire suggested, and mimed picking up a barrel and pouring it.

. . . "Oh!" the little Pokègirl balanced the egg on the rim of the bowl and cracked one end with her fist, pouring the contents into the bowl.

. . . Shana entered and looked at the trio. "Looks like Sanctuary, two big bosses and one tiny worker. And people wonder why we haven't conquered the world yet."

. . . Voltaire chuckled at that. Seadamar bowed slightly. "You slept well?"

. . . Shana smirked. "Nightmares the whole night." She poured herself some tea, with a small dollop of coffee added. "Your boss is even scarier than I thought," she said, "I thought that Megami was going to piss herself." She looked at the two smiling faces. "What did I miss?"

. . . "You haven't heard about how he captured Blossom and Rainbow?" Seadamar asked.

. . . "Story!" Alba squeaked.

. . . "Working," Voltaire leaned down and reminded her.

. . . "Can I at least listen?" Alba asked.

. . . Voltaire deeply considered the question, doing a good parody of her Master as he paced and thought. "Maybe."

. . . The four of them laughed as they settled in to listen.

. . . The black shape slipped over the wall. Coal-black eyes scanned through the predawn gloom. Seeing northing, hearing nothing, she advanced, then froze as a red dot of light appeared on her chest. A solid gray wall exploded out of the darkness and slammed into her, sending her sailing through the air, until another gray wall appeared out of the air and smashed her back down to the ground.

. . . The Demon-Dragon struggled to clear her head, and get to her feet. Before she could manage, a huge, clawed foot pressed her back down.

. . . "Fine crush me, my vengeance -!"

. . . "Silence," came the harsh whisper and the failure of the Demon-Dragon's vocal cords, "There are people trying to sleep. One of them's, my Master." The young girl, backed by another Tyrannodame, and the shortest WarMech the Terminatrix had ever seen, walked into view. "What is this? The new Grand Central Station?" she asked, "Don't answer. You can't speak. Look why don't you try the mind-numbingly obvious and normal idea, and behave like a rational person. In the morning, knock at the front door and ask for an appointment. If you arrive at a decent hour, you'd be well ahead of anyone else who's approached him. How's that for a brilliant idea? No, too bad, toss her over the wall. If she lands in the ocean, that's her tough luck."

. . . The Tyrannodame who'd held her down, picked her up in her mouth and flung her high over the walls, into the clouds and out of sight.

. . . "Are those biscuits I smell?" Underworld asked as she entered the kitchen. The welcoming smell of baked goods made her stomach rumble.

. . . "Breakfast," Voltaire warned sternly. "Outside?"

. . . "Another guest. We tossed her over the wall," Underworld said. "You didn't bite her leg off or anything?" she asked Blossom.

. . . "No, she left intact."

. . . "How far did you throw her?" Seadamar asked carefully as she stared at the increasingly nervous Tyrannodame.

. . . "1.8 kilometers total arc length, 1.2 kilometers ground distance," Angie replied, "I don't think you made it to the ocean."

. . . "Who was she?" Shana asked.

. . . "Don't know, never saw her breed before," Underworld admitted. Angie also shook her head. Neither noticed the worried looks on the two Tyrannodames.

. . . He woke slowly, moving up through layers of consciousness, through dreams and memories and nightmares. What he woke facing what might have once seemed a nightmare. Fur, fangs, and the strength the shred a main-battle-tank. But I've learned, he thought as he ducked under her wing and crawled onto her back. He ignored Maus's curious expression and caught the loose flap of skin above her shoulders in his teeth, and pulled gently. Her eyes hooded as memories or instinct took her to being carried by her mother that way. Tension in her bled away further as he reached around and cupped her breasts, massaging and squeezing them.

. . . Her tail wrapped around and released to wrap around again, like a boa trying to find purchase. And her purrs grew in duration and intensity as he rubbed his growing erection between the cheeks of her bottom. She wriggled invitingly, her tail around his knees tugging to draw him down where she wanted the attention. He responded by pulling his shorts down so he could rub his bare flesh on her fuzzy behind. She purred even more as his hand returned to punch and flick her hard nipples.

. . . Maus's growls took on a irritated tone, as she shifted, and her tail tried to pull him back down.

. . . "From teeth to waist, I'm not long enough to fit. Unless you want it somewhere else?" he released her neck and told her, "And be patient. You may be ready, but I'm not."

. . . She made an apologetic mew, and wrapped her tail around his waist. He continued his slow strokes. Then he let go of her breasts. She immediately pulled her legs under her to elevate the target she wanted hit.

. . . Not ready for anal sex, so that's my target too. I keep forgetting, she can be ready if I just say 'sex' in her hearing. Her tail reached up and wrapped over his shoulder, rubbing his back as he thrust. The tip tapped on him faster, clearly indicating her preference.

. . . "This is faster," he told her as he ignored the drumming on his shoulder, "I'm sure Sabrina would give you all the speed you want."

. . . I try and be spontaneous, and you want a 16-year-old, he thought bitterly, Well, I started this, I should finish it. A good night sleep is more than worth it.

. . . He sped up as much as he could, sending painful twinges through his back, and soon had the HeavenKat yowling. He hadn't finished, but he was finished here. He staggered out of the bed and out of the room. Pulled his shorts back up and proceeded to the bathroom to shit, shower and shave.

. . . Damn that hurts, he thought as he tried to walk upright and was awarded with more aches.

. . . Dressed and feeling vague presentable, he encountered Angie and the Tyrannodames setting the table for breakfast.

. . . "Uh, Master, we need to tell you something," Angie said worriedly as the pair kept glancing nervously at each other.

. . . "You have some captive Megami tied up somewhere on the estate."

. . . When the Titmouse's jaw dropped he left out the 'and she escaped' part that would help define the way the day was going.

. . . "Uh, yes, sort . . . of," the Titmouse said, trailing off, "They tried to escape and we . . . we killed them."

. . . That's not as bad as I thought, he thought

. . . "Report that to the police, if you have any photos, turn those over as well. I think they're sufficiently shell-shocked that they might let you off with a warning," he said far more patiently than he felt, "Thank you, for telling me."

. . . "You're welcome. Where are you going?"

. . . "I'm going to stand in the ocean, in a metal boat, with an umbrella, in a lightning storm," he replied and headed outside.

. . . Miguelito walked into the most morose bunch of Pokègirls he'd ever seen in his life. "Did the Megami try again? Did he find his way home and leave you all? What happened?"

. . . The precipitate tearful caterwauling from Maus explained absolutely nothing. Voltaire glanced outside, and Miguelito took the hint. He shook his head. And people accuse me of taking things too seriously, he thought as he walked out onto the grounds, Antoinette staying close. They found their quarry, standing over a puddle of blood the ants were already feasting on. He urged the Pokègirl to stay back, to keep the conversation private.

. . . "An interesting reflecting pool," he said, "A bit macabre, even for my tastes."

. . . "Just two more Megami from the ambush. One of them a victim of an inversion spell. I don't know how she survived it, except that Pokègirls are tougher than humans."

. . . "Your girls are in quite a state," Miguelito said neutrally, "Usually only a Master can stir them up that way."

. . . "Yes, you could say that," his friend replied morosely, then shook his head and sighed, "What am I doing? I'm getting ready to march in to Hell with a pack of people who by all rights should have run for the hills during Sadie Pokens. I can't be that good a Tamer. I'm not that good in bed, and I don't have much more that human stamina. Add the fact I'm hardly an athlete, and that doesn't translate too well into my chosen profession."

. . . "You treat them decently. You listen to them. Answer their questions. You're afraid you're disappointing them," Miguelito said, "There are fights here, every night, where Pokègirls are given weapons and fight to the death. Kits are thrown out of homes when they undergo Threshold, or are sold to Pokèbrothels, to learn the trade before they're legally old enough. In Shady Shores there are mills, where rarer and more fashionable girls are serviced by DildoQueens, or forced through Brooding Cycles to produce as many kits and girls for sale as possible. Do you know what happens to the brood mares when they go through their second puberty?"

. . . "Euthanized."

. . . "And fed to the others. Mustn't waste protein, mustn't waste the minerals. And this League isn't the worst. There is an abomination called Pokèpower. Turning a Pokègirl into raw energy. At one pound-mass to 38.65 billion BTUs, for perfect conversion, and in practice, orders of magnitude less. A perfect way to exterminate Ferals or dissidents, there are dozens of Leagues who use that, and even threaten their human populations with it. Yet it isn't used in the Sunshine League, which has an overabundance of Ferals."

. . . "The Frees would never stand for it. Even SLUT gives a chance of survival. And we have more electricity than we need. Caesar and the Five Families preserved the turbines, they just changed what spins them."

. . . "If they openly LoveBalled the occasional Human criminal, the way some of the Leagues are rumored to, and fed them through the process, any protests would fall on deaf ears," Miguelito said sharply, "You know that as well as I. There's another reason it never came to our shores."

. . . "What?"

. . . "A group of four individuals, PokeProf, RogueJedi, Shadow of the Heart and Kelvin's Choice. They made this part of the world a nightmare of slavery and abuse, but also offered peace and hope. Nowhere did they turn the inhabitants into mere coal for the furnaces. If Pokèpower came here, Nuevo Ten, and New Vegas would master it, make it efficient, and offer it to those who wanted release. A form of euthanasia, or a fate for captured menaces only. The four personalities who created this place, would have to leave it a horror, but would also make it a choice. Two people in this League are universally respected, and both are Pokèwomen. There is evil, corruption, abuse and mayhem, but is there not that in your world?"

. . . "Yes. Too much, and too much stupidity."

. . . "So we are a fable, a parable, a lesson. The Prodigal Son, the Fox and the Grapes, all the other lessons to gain wisdom. While a hard task, it is not without reward. And there is Hope. Which exists for neither Humans nor Pokègirls in some of the other places on this world. You have done much, when it is enough? Free us all? Some do not wish to be free. Punish the wicked? There is that. Make this place paradise? Where in all the worlds that men walk is there paradise for all. Pain, loss and need drive humans, and their creations, to greater heights than previously dreamed. The kingdom I wished to create was a pocket, a refuge. I would not change the entire world to such a place, even if I had the power. Suffering makes adults of children, whatever their age. When they suffer, or alleviate the suffering of others. And it is the adults who do the great things in this world. That is a fundamental law, in this world and yours, and even you cannot repeal it."

. . . "So what did I do wrong?" his friend asked.

. . . Miguelito smiled. "What do they call you?"

. . . "He Who -"

. . . "No, yours. What do they call you?"

. . . So simple it's a struggle, Miguelito thought.

. . . "Master?"

. . . "That was your mistake. You are not 'Master' because you demand it. You are Master because they do. Their last completely willful act is to freely offer their lives totally and completely, to us. Sometimes, they insist we be Master. Showing no weakness, accepting only what we demand, and forcing them to carry on. For a man of conscience, it isn't pleasant, telling a thinking, loving other to shut up and do as told. But sometimes, anything else hurts them too much."

. . . "So I should go back in there breathing fire?" He finally moved, shaking his head. "I can't do that."

. . . "You go back in there breathing fire, or refuse to acknowledge it ever happened. It wasn't your decency that brought those Pokègirls into your Harem, it was your power and certainty. That you are you, and they will have to live with that."

. . . "I can't do that."

. . . "You can't deny them being themselves, you must demand the same from them."

. . . " 'We are accustomed to look upon the shackled form of a conquered monster, but there - there you could look at a thing monstrous and free.' 'And in our hearts, we still remember the days when man and Pokègirl, made war,' and they lost."

. . . "I recognize the Joseph Conrad quote, but the other?"

. . . "Me, a story of a Coyotits starship commander far in the future, from the spirit guardian of her ship, a human male."

. . . "You do have a wild imagination." Miguelito grinned.

. . . "I suppose," he shook his head, "I guess I have to go back and play the role."

. . . "As long as you remember it is just a role," Miguelito warned.

. . . "The abyss quit looking at me a long time ago, Doctor," he said, "Some things are too terrible."

. . . Entering in through the side door of the dining room, he felt every eye on him. Including a group he hadn't seen before. The leader was taller than he was, and her long, white hair styled by Mixmaster TM. Her dress practically defined decolletage, being joined together for 14 inches between waist and thigh-level. The six-pointed star on her forehead wasn't solid, it wasn't merely a traditional Star of David, it was a Solomon Seal of two interlinked triangles.

. . . The real Hild doesn't look like that. So . . . a Megami? he thought, This day is just getting stranger.

. . . "May I help you?" he asked.

. . . "Certainly, I'm here to interview for the job. You are planning to attack a horde of demons. It would be in everyone's best interest if you succeed."

. . . "You want to join up, and you're asking for a job interview?" he asked.

. . . "Certainly, how else would we apply?" the Megami asked calmly.

. . . He motioned Angie over. The Titmouse looked at the two Tyrannodames, and saw they would not meet her gaze. She tried to smile as she walked over to her Master.

. . . "Yes, Master?" she said and smiled, his answering smile, though pleasant, filled her expression with dread.

. . . "Did either of those Megami you ate get out a message?"

. . . "No, Master, we -"

. . . "Then someone else got out the message." He paused

. . . Someone you failed to mention, he kept to himself.

. . . "Because Megami -do - not - work - this - way. The only difference between a Megami member of the Celestial Alliance, and an S-Goth Council member, is the CA actually believes the CareBears' police state they'd set up would be fair and happy. So, we can be fairly sure they are either all CA, or none CA. And you will solve that dilemma."

. . . Yes, Master," she whimpered, his friendly tone grinding away her certainty.

. . . "Now, since they seem to be here at your invitation, you get to do the preliminary screening."

. . . She cheeped in fear as he looked at the white-haired leader.

. . . "How many did you bring?"

. . . "Sixty."

. . . He blinked.

. . . Certainty, certainty, certainty, he reminded himself and rested his hands on Angie's small shoulders.

. . . "See," he told her in soothing tones, "You only have sixty Megami to go through. To ferret out the answers from the vagaries they like to spout."

. . . "Yes, Master." He enthusiasm was so forced, he nearly saw it crystalize.

. . . "Since you've done so well, operating without my instructions, let's take the next step in that path, shall we?" he told her in a happy voice.

. . . "If you say so Master," she replied as if on her way to the firing squad.

. . . "All you have to do is screen out the ones who'll teleport us all to their headquarters to torture or brainwash us into compliance. Isn't that nice."

. . . "Not the word I'd use, Master," she said and tried to smile.

. . . "Well, your Master has a little trick, and if his Alpha would deign to use it, it might just save her a huge amount of time. But if you already have a cunning plan . . . "

. . . "No, sir! Your input is always welcome - always sought! Sought after, fervently!" she told him ardently. Holding on to his arm so tightly it hurt.

. . . "Very well, get out a piece of paper and I'll show you a trick."

. . . I wish I had a brush, she thought as she tried to catch her reflection in the window of the holding cell, I want to be pretty. I want to help him. The Cosmic Consciousness never felt like this. Then, I knew what was best, now, I still know, but I also know that perfection is not required, just advancement. So there are 'bests' to choose from. And that people can advance in ways we cannot understand . . . and the Alliance could never appreciate.

. . . The Tigress officer approached the door, and the Megami dutifully stepped back against the far wall. She grinned as the Tigress unlocked it without the usual order, or having to repeat it three times.

. . . "He's agreed to see you," the Tigress told her as she waved her forward. They'd removed the restraints on her physical body, now the officer removed the items which limited her magical power, "What happened in that cell last night? You went from nightmares to wanting to go to the prom."

. . . She looked over the simple jacket and slacks combination, impossibly white, with blue trim. "Have you ever had a revelation, like Recognition for a Truth?"

. . . "Recognition I know," the officer said, "I can honestly say I never had an idea like that."

. . . "That is what befell me," she said, "In the face of what I have seen, the course is obvious."

. . . "Trying to direct that one's course will be like trying to drive a team of drunken Rhynodames in a straight line."

. . . "There are courses, and there are courses," she answered, then had to add, "His course is already fixed and agreed to, I merely wish to travel it."

. . . "Yes?" he asked as he waited in the corridor outside the room he'd interrogated her in yesterday.

. . . She glanced at the room, then at him. I never felt so helpless, or alone, she thought of her breakdown against him and shivered. Fear or desire? she wondered, Both, last night, I realized, he wouldn't hurt my body, when he could overpower me other ways. She smiled, and he returned a flat suspicious stare. The Tigress moved off, but stayed in earshot.

. . . "You've have a conversion," he said, every syllable screaming his doubt, cynicism and apprehension, to the world of those who listen.

. . . "An epiphany," she replied as she approached, slowly, tentatively, "I came to realize that the Celestial Alliance might have the best motives, but neither the best methods, nor will they achieve the best results. To remove all pain and suffering is impossible. You would have to remove either the ability to experience suffering for yourself or another, or you would have to lose the ability to comprehend suffering. The end result of the Alliance's dream would be humanity dehumanized, numb or nonsentient."

. . . "Pretty speech," he said, "What has that to do with me?"

. . . I can feel his unhappiness, I have the power to take it away. But that is the Alliance's answer, my way would be to help him live through it, she thought.

. . . She reached up, but froze as he stepped back, eyes filled with suspicion. "I will not hurt you. I cannot lie."

. . . He snorted at that. "Fred, during the time his wife was pregnant with each of their three kids, spent most of his time with Sal. What do you think about Fred? What do you think about Sal?"

. . . "Fred was a poor companion, and Sal was selfish."

. . . "Sal is short for Sally, his wife. Now what do you think of them?" he replied coldly, "It is possible to lie without ever speaking an untruth. Anyone who says 'I cannot lie', is lying, knows they are lying, and intends to deceive you. That's strike two. You asked for me, get to the point or I'll leave."

. . . "I desire to be with you."

. . . "Yeah, I'll bet you do," he replied quietly, "Sorry, I've already got an pair of assassins in my Harem, why do I need you?"

. . . She recoiled at that, as if he'd slapped her. I would have preferred he slap me, she thought, He doesn't hate me, he's just indifference. In some ways, that's worse.

. . . "I want to help you. I understand now."

. . . He stared at her, his expression betraying the depth of his disbelief. She fidgeted, knowing that any call to higher powers, or beyond-human knowledge would be worse than useless.

. . . "I wanted a Master," she admitted, "When you had me . . . even the Cosmic Awareness couldn't prevent me from feeling small, and alone. And you didn't take me. It was then I realized, that the world was cold and empty. That Human life has no point, due to our insignificance in the grand scheme of things, the Universe is too large and too old for humans to be more than a flicker." His deepening frown warned her to go on. "But the Megamis' - and the Jokettes' mistake, is assuming we should care about that. The Jokettes see all existence as a joke, so nothing they do matters; and the Megami want everyone to be happy, so they never think on the vast emptiness surrounding us." She carefully stepped up to him, ignored his deep suspicion, and never taking her gaze from his eyes, laid a hand on his chest. "They ignore the deeper emptiness within us, and that this emptiness, we can do something about." She moved closer, and he didn't shy away. "That emptiness we can fill. That emptiness is more important than the emptiness we can see all around us. Even the universe can't fill that, but in each other, we can. That's what Pokègirls are for, that what Megami are supposed to promote. To find companions, to find not a mindless eternal bliss, but contentment and joy. Someone to share the good times and support you through the bad." She'd slowly cuddled against him and he accepted.

. . . He's not touching me back, yet, she thought as she watched his eyes, still full of wary amusement, He expects me to turn this into a joke or an attack. It isn't, it isn't! Please believe that.

. . . "When you were there, last night and I was . . . touching you. I was afraid, and I was safe, and I never felt like that before. I thought would were going to take me, and I would have welcomed it."

. . . "I was interrogating you, not raping you," he replied, "As for the intimidation, don't call up what you can't put down. I keep a reign on it, that's with a 'g', because if I don't rule it, it will rule me. I don't call it up trivially."

. . . "I don't -"

. . . "Traitor!" came the hiss. He stepped away and was all prickles and anger again. The Megami in the gray jumpsuit broke away from the Officer Jenny. The Tigress grabbed her. Still she struggled in the grip.

. . . "You give in to our target, and get your fancy clothes back! While I am loyal, and have to wear this!"

. . . "Jesus, Jesus Christ, man!" He approached, sadly shaking his head, his voice barely a whisper. "Why don't you love somebody just a little?"

. . . "I do love - "

. . . He stood face-to-face with the angry Megami. "Why don't you help somebody?" he whispered angrily, "Help them. Help for the Love of Christ."

. . . His rage boiled within him, yet each word came out quiet and clear, "You green-soaked, caterpillar-torturing bastard! You're gonna wear that uniform! Sleep in it. Bathe in it! Try to take it off and you'll die in it." He was shaking with rage, his face flushed, his eyes wide with madness, yet the measured, calm whisper was all that escaped.

. . . The Megami backed up against the Tigress who held her.

. . . "Is that clear?" he asked, as if to an unruly child, but the hiss of breath through his clenched teeth as he shook with rage, showed his true feelings.

. . . The Megami retreated back to the Officer Jenny. The Tigress seemed uncertain, even frightened as she watched the rage simply vanish.

. . . "It's psychodrama, roleplaying," he said, "Standard tool in therapy."

. . . He turned to the Megami and quietly explained, "The inmates are playing the role of Allied Prisoners of War, attempting to tunnel their way to freedom. We are their captors."

. . . Now he shouted angrily, "Bullshit! We're their prisoners! A bunch of yellow-bellied goof-offs out there having a ball! Why should I help their fun? I'm not a psychiatrist! It's a Goddamn, chicken-shit, crazy idea."

. . . Then the rage was gone. "Stacy Keach and Neville Brand, The Ninth Configuration," he told them, and smiled, "Don't call up, what you cannot put down." He grabbed the Megami's hair caressing it, but seemed ready to yank it at a moment's notice. "Do you walk, or do I drag you?" he asked with an air of casual menace.

. . . She grinned, and offered her arm instead. "I'm Cheryl." She drew him into the interrogation room. "You must have had - dreams - about some perfect encounter, or some fantasy."

. . . "Considering it will be recorded and probably televised, you're asking me to reveal a lot."

. . . She gestured. "Now it won't be."

. . . Although I can't keep the other officers from watching, she thought, They'll have to tell the tale.

. . . He considered. "I thought Megami were prudes," he said.

. . . She bit her lip. I want to argue the point, she thought, But that's not the answer, and he's diverting me.

. . . "Megami are either very good at something, or very bad." She grinned. "Guess which ones will harp on you that sex isn't important to Pokègirls, or human?"

. . . He blinked in surprise. "Okay, that still leaves a lot of questions."

. . . "What do you want?" she asked insistently, while she laid her head on his chest and stroked it. "Not duty, not Taming, just - play."

. . . He sighed, seeming to lose all his ferocity and confidence.

. . . "Just play. I'm Feral right now. If I am cured tomorrow, or the next day, it's the same to me. You're important, and if you keep trying to hold the weight of the world, it will crush you. Taming is supposed to be fun too, not just life support for your soldiers."

. . . He thought, then admitted, "I always wanted to make love underwater, just floating in a blood-warm sea and the two lovers sharing one air supply."

. . . "And you -" Cheryl squeaked, and forced herself not to squeal. "Peace and warmth in a moment of true love and total trust. And you think you're a monster?" She noticed the expression on the officer's face, but did nothing to draw his attention to it.

. . . "Don't canonize me just yet. I also have a few where the coupling is neither as convivial, nor as consensual. Is in fact, the method of execution."

. . . Cheryl noted the Tigress chewing her lower lip and shifting uncomfortably.

. . . "We have dive equipment at the station, and a plunge pool," the Tigress offered in a very subdued voice, as if she was trying not to scare a frightened child, or shatter a dream. "I'm also a certified teacher of dive instructors."

. . . "I can't SCUBA, and of the five people I knew who could, two are dead, one was a certified teacher of instructors, the other a master underwater welder. That's why it's a fantasy, the safety protocols I'd insist on would take all the spontaneity out of the encounter. You can't trust people to be that rational, while engaged in something that emotional. One or the other wouldn't work. So, thank you for the offer, but no thanks."

. . . Cheryl frowned, then considered. "It actually is easy," she said, as something unseen led her to the simple answer. "That's weird, the Cosmic Consciousness never - simplified problems, it only gave answers."

. . . "What have you got?" he asked.

. . . She and the Tigress hid their smiles. Gotcha! she forced herself not even to hint.

. . . "You're a scientist, let's approach this scientifically," Cheryl said.

. . . I look at the Tigress carrying me under one arm and a heavy bag of gear in the other, she wears a short wetsuit, tank and mask, the SCUBA's regulator in her mouth. A periodic stream of bubble comes from the regulator. They disperse quickly in the large nearly empty building, rather than float to the ceiling above. I hold my breath. Except technically, it's SCBA, I think as she nods.

. . . I take a breath, and convulse violently in her grip at the horrible taste and stench that assails my nostrils and taste buds. The powerful Pokègirl easily restrains me. Once I quit reacting, I nod to her. Yes, it's safely breathable, but no one in their right mind would try. Unless they have to. She has her air supply, Master is specifically not affected, and I can drop the effect any time I choose, or automatically if I pass out. But there's a bit I haven't told them, desp-air, a little joke. I felt the effects of the little I've inhaled. It will make the need for not breathing it more real, and the drowning, I think.

. . . She nods and moves ahead, now dropping into her role. The magic field provides the resistance, buoyancy and feel of water, and the door out of the large building stands open, an escape should anyone desire it.

. . . I'm shocked when she fits the regulator in my mouth, but take advantage of this last kindness and I breathe in and out as she'd instructed. She puts a foot on my arm to restrain me, both from floating away, and from trying to escape. I'm glad I'm good at this, I think as I hyperventilate to saturate my lungs with oxygen, It's bland, but better than what's around us. My Master though . . . I think dreamily.

. . . While I do this, she affixes the heavy chain in her bag to the manacle on my wrist. The length of chain outweighs my buoyancy, and once released, my lungs full of air, my body more voluptuous than hers, floats upside-down like a balloon on a string. I have to use my free hand to pinch my nose closed, to stop the stream of bubble which steal precious air. My cheongsam tickles my bare legs as it floats in the current, and clings like a second skin.

. . . She stands and does a countdown from five on her fingers. I hyperventilate further, growing dizzy from it and the blood rushing to my head. At zero she takes the regulator back, breathing deeply to restore herself. Watching her chest swell under her suit, seeing her well toned arms and legs. She has a dancer's body, I think, What would it be like, in bed with her?

. . . She puts a hand on my back and draws me towards her.

. . . What? A Taming? Put on a show for Master? I wonder.

. . . Her other hand caresses my stomach, and before I'm ready, she squeezes.

. . . Huge bubbles erupt from my mouth, before I can tighten my stomach, and try to fight back. She dodges my blows, and steps out of reach. She knows fighting underwater, I don't. She grins around the regulator. How much air did I lose? I fearfully wonder, How much time do I have?

. . . She walks away, moving easily across the floor instead of floating as I do, before pulling her legs up and kicking smoothly as she searches for my Master. My head pounds and my lungs ache holding in the breath I still have. The desperate reflex to exhale fights with my knowledge of what would come with the inhale.

. . . I struggle and strain, then as if a counterpoint, soft, warm lips touch mine. My Master has appeared, as if by magic, and breathes into me. I exhale deeply, and inhale a sweet, ambrosial elixir, life-giving air as refreshing as any I've ever known. I want to just grip and hold him there, I think as I exhale from my nose, and breathe in through our linked mouths. My free hand strokes his face and down his shoulder. I wish I could use both hands, I think wistfully as I soar with delight. He breathes easily and strongly, filling my lungs again. He breaks off the kiss suddenly, his gentle eyes again full of rage, and slips a nose clip on, pinching my nose closed. No collar was ever more welcome, I think, then spot the reason for his concern. Charging like a Sharktits in heat, comes the Tigress.

. . . He waits until she is only a few feet away, and thrusts a hand forward. The cloud of bubbles that erupts disorients the Tigress, as he leaps out of the range of her claws. The thunder of the bubbles doesn't stop, and the Tigress realizes he's cut through her air line. She tosses the useless regulator away and seals the tank. She briefly considers keeping it, but slips out of it. She opens the valve, and breathes deep the precious air, before closing the valves and setting it just out of my reach. She runs her claws lightly over my inner thighs, grins at my defiance as I kick and punch at her. She swims away and in the clear medium, I can see her.

. . . Where is Master? I wonder, The pillars would give some cover, but not a lot.

. . . The seconds drag on, and the feeling of ecstacy of breathing from my Master fades, as my pulse slows, and the struggle to hold my breath continues. As it becomes one minute, there comes an ache, then two, my lung burn with fire, my head pounds with the noise of my own pulse, and the temptation of the tank of air beckons. No, she would have made sure it was out of reach. I'm supposed to exhaust myself struggling to reach it, I realize. I force myself to look around, as much to distract myself as to search for my Master. A bubble trickles out my lips. I force myself to lose no more, fighting my body's burning need to exhale.

. . . Instead of salvation, the Tigress returns. Her ears are flat on her head, and her expression shows real anger. She releases the breath she has held, and opens the valve, suckling from the line, breathing sweet air. She watches me watching her so hungrily. My body shakes with the effort of folding the air within. She shuts the valve and straddles the air tank like a lover, running her crotch back and forth on the smooth metal and drawing the line in and out of her mouth.

. . . NO! He's my Master! I want to yell, but control myself when another bubble slips out. The fire in my lungs makes me more desperate to hold my breath, every last bubble within. She smiles at me and with the regulator and remaining line in hand, unscrews the fitting on the valve. She fits the remaining line from the regulator into the valves and reassembles the fitting. The result is too short for her to wear on her back, so she slings one strap on her shoulder and holds the tank under her arm. She takes a deep breath from the regulator and swims away to search. I watch her lashing tail and fear for my Master. Another bubble slips through my lips.

. . . I can't exhale! I won't breath that stuff! I vow as I cover my mouth to prevent more air from escaping. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to cry as the air within me tries to burn its way out. My stomach convulses as I try to hold the air in.

. . . Desperate to breathe, desperate for any distraction from my aching lungs and throat, I twist around as much as I can, searching for the Tigress or my Master. I fail to look straight up, because that's where she is.

. . . I feel the tube slide into my muff. I kick, but weakly as the pain in my lungs saps my strength, and she easily fends them off. I feel the tube hit bottom.

. . . What's she -!? I nearly scream as the Tigress blows through the tube, filling my womb with tickling bubbles. I try not to shriek, I try not to moan, shaking violently and holding desperately to the tiny bubble of air inside me as the Tigress again and again sucks in lungfuls of air and blows them into me, running the tube up and down, wiggling and twisting it to find every erogenous zone, every place to pleasure. Laughter and orgasm build within me as I kick, flail and twist futilely, lungs burning and throat strangling to keep my air. My head pounds with my racing pulse.

. . . It hurts so much! I can stand it! It feels so good!

. . . The scream I let out takes most of my air with it. I suck in the stuff around me, and my body convulses. Along with the awful taste and smell, to prevent either of us from cheating by getting used to it, is an awful feeling of despair and emptiness, as if I had actually died.

. . . The Tigress pulls out the tube, adding to my terrible emptiness, the last few bubbles that trickle out aren't enough to lift my spirits as I pull my legs against my chest, and wrap my arm around me. Master didn't rescue me, I think, Master doesn't love me. I cry hopeless, helpless tears, floating alone, unwanted, destroyed.

. . . I feel the extra awareness filling me. I promised 'no powers', I remind myself, Who cares? I sense the rest of the station. Every Pokègirl officer is watching the battle, most have their hands frantically working in their pants and shirts, or in someone else's. But no one for me. She did it to hurt me. My Master didn't rescue me, I think, All of them watching. No one to help me. I move with the current, aware, but nothing matters enough to act.

. . . I feel the monitor set up so some of the Megami prisoners can watch. I chuckle bitterly at their arousal. Happy I'm being punished? I wonder, The traitor who trusted gets her reward? I'm too tired and wrung out to cry anymore.

. . . Closer in, I feel the Tigress, hunting. Her prey, my Master. The awareness fades as I look across the distance and see. But Master is stalking her too? I realize, then remind myself sadly, What can I do? I risk another breath, deep this time, deepening my despair. Too far gone to even taste it anymore, I think as I watch. She'll catch him, and she'll have him, until her air runs out. And they'll walk away, leaving me behind.

. . . He explodes the cloud of bubbles in her face. She slashes her paw through the obscuring cloud, but he isn't there. She catches his wrist as he reaches for the air tank in her arm. She smiles around the regulator as she catches his hips between her feet. She grins and begins tugging at his shorts with her toes.

. . . She's going to strip him and pleasure herself on him, I think. A tiny ember of fear and anger forms, and then vanishes, What am I going to do? He's not fighting it. He must want it, want her.

. . . But a single finger on his free hand pokes into the sleeve of her wetsuit. Too intent on her prize, and too late she realizes the danger. Her wetsuit balloons as the pressure of the gas crushes down on her. She yowls in surprise, releasing her regulator and he yanks the tank from her arm as her gas-filled, buoyant wetsuit takes her to the ceiling. She tries to drive off the ceiling after him, but floats back up out of reach.

. . . Master escaped. But he still has her to deal with.

. . . The suit leaks, but not fast enough to let her pursue. In a rage, she rips the bloated chest of the suit open with her claws, freeing the huge bubble of gas. She lands on the floor and looks around to find her quarry.

. . . She advances slowly. Hopping by flexing her calves, rather than walking or swimming.

. . . She knows she's low on air, and she saw what breathing this stuff did to me, I think as she moves. Her full breasts, freed of the suit, and her lithe, athletic form are beautiful. Why would he want me, when he could have her? I ask myself, A police officer, trustworthy, not a sneaky, fussy Megami. She's seen him!

. . . He stands on the ground, waiting. She races towards him, claws out and a snarl on her face, her rage in full flood, then she notes he doesn't have the tank. She slows and looks around. It stands partially hidden in some old boxes, a dozen yards away. She pauses to consider, then swims steadily for the tank.

. . . No! Now she can chase you forever! I want to shout. A little breath and more despair fills me. Why is he fighting her, instead of saving me? I wonder, and am too far gone to consider an answer. Where did he go? He was just there a moment ago!

. . . She arrives back at the tank, and puts the regulator in her mouth. No stream of bubbles. She coughs it out, sputtering, her body convulses at the taste and she drops to both knees, hugging herself.

. . . Not so tough now! I think, My Master's a genius!

. . . She straightens up, still shivering, then looks around frantically. She struggles with the valve for a moment, then drops the tank and pushes off and races away at a tear, to find my Master.

. . . He sabotaged it? I wonder as I watch her slow her pace, her anger giving way to the discouragement eating at her. He's made her race around, and -

. . . The lips pressing on mine, blowing into me reawakens all my hope, and joy. I drag myself to him, and wrap myself around him, as he breathes lungfuls of pure exhilarating air into me, driving the despair from me like a warm wind. I pull myself down and right-side-up, to face him. Master! I knew you loved me, Master! Take me Master, take your Pokègirl! I arch my back to wrap my legs around his waist, and rub my crotch against his, while my arms hold his lips tight against mine.

. . . I feel his hardness in his shorts as I rub. He really is enjoying himself. The soft fabric of his shorts rubbing my bare flesh. Feels so good! Feels better if he was inside me. My need to fill my aching lungs, is now an aching need to fill me. I grind myself against him and my tongue enters his mouth. Tame me Master! I want to shout, Take me.

. . . I ignore his noises, assuming he wants me too, or he's nervous about what my tongue is doing. I'm devastated when he roughly shoves me away and my world turns upside down. Master -?! Oh, shit!

. . . Storming in like a torpedo, is the Tigress. She's carrying the now useless tank. Master stands his ground again.

. . . No Master! She's desperate this time! I want to shout, But I don't want to lose the air inside me more. I'm a bad . . . no, I'm not. He has a plan, My Master has a plan!

. . . He thrusts his hand out, as he has before. The Tigress recoils in terror and dodges, dropping the tank. Then she realizes it was a feint, and turns to catch him, the pain of holding her breath etched on her face. She catches an ankle and drags him back to her, grappling in mid-air and she opens her jaws wide.

. . . NO! I scream huge cloud of bubbles escaping.

. . . And covers his nose and mouth with her mouth, while she wraps her arms and legs and tail around him, pinning him to the ground as she sinks. He struggles in her grip.

. . . She's too strong, I want to warn him, and she's desperate. She knows what will happen without air.

. . . She squeezes him gently, trying to force the air from him. She adjusts, rubbing her clit against the hardness in his shorts.

. . . Offering sex for air, I think, then offer sadly, Too old, and too smart. The itch in my own lungs starts, distracting me from the itch somewhere else. How much air do I have, and how much does she think she has?

. . . She speeds up the pace, grabbing his hands and putting them against her breasts, urging him to squeeze and fondle them. He doesn't move, he doesn't react as precious seconds drift away.

. . . It won't work, I want to tell her as her expression and attempt at seduction grows almost ridiculously wretched, then I fear, Please, don't hurt him! He's supposed to fight you! Don't hurt him! As bad as it is, it isn't worth that! I think as I struggle with the chain and manacle, trying to force my hand through the tight bond.

. . . Either she felt my plea, or heard the chain. Because she springs away from him, and at me. In a flash she is behind me, wrapping her arms around my belly. Her muscles bunching for what comes next.

. . . I tighten my stomach muscles and clamp down on my throat. You won't squeeze my Master's gift from me! I vow, I'm ready for you! I strain against the pressure that will crush into my belly any second.

. . . I squeal, loosing precious air as, instead of compressing me, she shoves her tongue into my aching slit. I kick helplessly, squirming and twisting, but her grip is too strong and the warm, wet muscle sliding in and out stokes fires she'd set earlier. Bubbles of air slip from between my lips as her rough tongue strokes my clit as it plunges into me. My body's instinct betrays me as my legs wrap around the Tigress's head and hold it in place as she penetrates me. Her hands release me and find my breasts. Her claws slash the fabric of the cheongsam away from my breasts. Even the faint sting of the scratches excites me as she squeezes my breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples. My hips thrust in time with her laps, and the fire in my lungs and belly burn as I try to hang onto my breath, as I know what's coming.

. . . Master, oh Master this should be you, I think as the need to exhale and the need to climax shake me in their grip. I shake my head, trying to drive back the need, hold it off.

. . . In a fury of bubbles, I scream, my body convulsing as the force of the climax shocks me. More convulsions come, weaker and weaker, until I drift bonelessly, the delicious warmth I'd held inside me nearly gone. The depression I'd woven in the `desp-air` around us now overtaking me as the Tigress releases me. Her point made. Her need to pleasure me ended.

. . . I close my eyes. I want to I curl into a ball. To hold my Master breath. That last tiny bit of joy inside me.

. . . When I open them, I scarcely care about what I see. But Master is adamant, I think as he stands there and shrugs. Poor Tigress, I think sarcastically as she lets loose a bubble, then another as her diaphragm spasms, before mastering herself.

. . . She yanks me down, pinning me to the ground. Her muscles cost her buoyancy, I think, then smirk, Your hands hold my arms, your legs pin mine, what now? You're trembling, you can't last much longer. Her answer is surprisingly gentle. She bows her head and licks at the faint welts on my breasts where her claws scratched me. She laps at my nipples. As they harden and I squirm under her, she sucks on them, pulling them slightly with her lips.

. . . Then her tail worms its way inside me. Thrusting in and out, coiling and flicking inside me. My hips buck as much in reaction to her tail as in my attempts to throw her off. I strain, but a bubble leaks out, then another. I don't have too many more. I won't breathe that stuff! I won't! I won't! I struggle and squirm under her, the burn to breathe and the growing burn in my muff will make a liar out of me.

. . . She pulls my hands togther so one of hers can hold both of mine, and her hand goes to my muff, fondling and squeezing. The fire in my chest intensifies as my nipples ache to be touched and suckled. The fire she stokes down below is worse. My body thrashes, straining my muscles to the breaking point as orgasm after orgasm hits me. Driving the air from my body, and still the Tigress's fingers and tail stroke on as she rides my writhing body, sitting on my heaving belly and pressing her sex tight against it. The heat of those orgasms warring with the cold despair I inhale with every breath. Slowly, my struggles weaken to almost nothing.

. . . The Tigress pulls out, and staggers away. She doubles over, as she struggles to hold her last breath. The cold that takes me is so profound. My floating up is a parody of ascending to the afterlife, and the Hell I feel in my whole body. Am I dead, did I die? I ask the emptiness that hurts too much even for tears.

. . . The clank of the tank against the bag of chains, I note. I stare around as I drift, seeing my Master's angry, almost petulant expression. He looks as lost as I feel, I think, not wanting to move, not wanting to feel, just wanting to finish my dying.

. . . I watch in dull horror as my Master approaches the Tigress, who still fidgets. She's won, I think, But she still needs her prize.

. . . Master kisses her on the nose. The Tigress exhales through her mouth and then holds her self and shivers as Master breathes fresh air into her. She's lost in rapture when he steps away. She moves to pursue, but he leans down, and cups my face. The awful, empty, lonely feeling prevents me from doing more than staring at him. I watch the fierce streams of bubbles coming from him. Why weren't they there before, I numbly wonder as he presses his lips to mine and breathes.

. . . He was holding his breath until now, so the Tigress was getting nearly spent air, but he hyperventilated for me, so I get good air, comes the thought as I greedily suck in and hold what my Master gives me. Hyperventilating myself to give me more time. Time for what? I wonder, The Tigress knows she can threaten me, and gain his compliance. I'm bait, and a chain, I think and want to cry, Master's trapped because of me, and I can't help him.

. . . He pulls me to the ground.

. . . A Taming? She'll never allow that! I think, then he clasps my hands tightly to the chain behind my back, so it's weight holds my feet on the ground. But what he puts in my hands before . . . I think as I feel the round knobby object, And the key!

. . . After five glorious breaths, he steps away. Leaving me full, but walks away looking miserable. What is your plan Master? I wonder, not grinning hurts almost as much as being out of air.

. . . He walks straight back to the Tigress. She smiles greedily, and makes a kissy-face at me.

. . . Yes, you've won, I think, You think.

. . . She grabs his head with both hands. He ducks his head in response, denying her the air she really wants. He pushes her hands away and puts on a fierce expression. 'You won. But we're doing this my way.'

. . . The stale air he filled you with must be starting to chafe, I think as she gives in instantly.

. . . As Master leans to breathe into her nose, one hand tangles in the hair behind her head, and the forces the other into the remains of her wet suit.

. . . She squeals, releasing a huge cloud of bubbles, and tries to break away, but Master holds her firmly. The Tigress's tail lashes violently and she squirms, uncertain and confused as Master thrusts all or part of his hand into her pussy.

. . . She begins rocking her hips in the rhythm of his thrusts, undulating like a water weed. Her expression grows dreamy and she wraps her arms and legs around him. Her tail lashes languidly and the bubbles of her exhales come more frequently.

. . . With her holding him, he uses his free hand to pull the wetsuit down, so her elbows are trapped by the suit's shoulders.

. . . I grin as I unlock the manacle, but hold the chain until I've knelt down. I drape the chain across my legs, so I won't float away, and unscrew the loose nut on the tank's valve stem, fit the handwheel back, and replace the nut. And I didn't drop anything, I think as I crack the valve. The regulator emits not a bubble. I grin and watch the Tigress.

. . . She's leaning away from Master, thrusting her hips at him and lost in the feeling.

. . . If you could see his expression, you wouldn't be so happy, I think of his calm and calculating countenance.

. . . She stiffens and jerks, releasing a few bubbles, then more. Master grabs her head with his free hand, and drags her nose to his mouth. As she emits a huge could of bubbles, he breathes into her. Her swaying slows as he kneels. She tears through the wetsuit and pulls close, hugging him. Her glance at me reveals nothing, the tank is hidden behind me.

. . . Why is Master continuing? I wonder as his hand still moves near her crotch. I glance down, and catch myself fingering my muff. I have air, why not? I think and rub myself gently, stoking the fire there as well.

. . . She stay pressed against him for several long breaths, then arches her back to lean away. Then my Master springs a trap. His free hand slips around and he slides a finger in her anus.

. . . The Tigress looks like a popped balloon, a huge burst of lost air, and her arms and legs flailing. Her tail sticks out as straight as a ruler as she squirms and falls over backward. Master, his two hands where they'd been, regards her with amusement. Blushing with embarrassment, she sits back in his lap and he kisses her nose, replacing the air she'd lost. But her tail starts twitching like a seizing snake. She pulls back, looks down and smiles at Master. He shakes his head. She clasps her hands in prayer, and he shakes his head. She growls but relents. In a moment she's back to swaying, but she's disjointed and stuttering about it.

. . . I grin. Master's using two separate rhythms with his hands, I think as I slip the straps over my shoulders and conceal them with the tatters of my dress. The mouthpiece and line I wrap my hair around. If she doesn't come over and look . . . I take a breath. The regulator gives me air, and if I just let it go slowly . . . I think as I watch. My idle hands return to their previous work. One hand slides over my muff, and I finger within, then other slips behind and I do as my Master is doing. It's too slow, I think as the fire builds in a maddeningly tardy pace, but I force myself to follow my Master's plan.

. . . The Tigress is losing herself in the disparate rhythms, seeming to give Master a lapdance as she squirms and shimmies in random directions. He's enjoying it as well. Is he enjoying the show, or that she's falling into his trap. For me, it's like being twisted in a vice. There's a faster way! Why doesn't he use it?!

. . . Occasionally, she'll arch her back, and lose a bubble or two. These losses increase in frequency, and volume of air lost. Master slows the pace. The Tigress eyes refocus and she looks up. She gazes hungrily at him, until he opens his mouth, then she realizes, and leans forward to offer her nose. As they breath, he speeds up again, and she has to hold onto his neck to keep her dancing from tearing her away. His hands are still out of sync, but the Tigress is past caring. I squirm as my guts tighten and the need for what I can feel is just out of reach.

. . . That's what he's doing! I realize, as she falls back releases him so she can pinch and fondle her own breasts. I smile around the regulator. Little ones, like waves lapping at the shore, as the Tidal Wave races towards her. She continues to sway and dance, while I'm nearly in screaming cramps to get release from the forthcoming climax.

. . . She begins to thrash, loosing a bubble here and a bubble there, as Master thrusts faster and faster. Her legs claw at the air, while her finger tips into the floor boards, carving up curlicues of wood.

. . . Can't stand it! My hands go at the same pace, driving me over the edge. My breath comes in gasps, I can imagine what she must feel like. The detonation of bubbles matches the detonation within me.

. . . Dizzy, is my first thought as I reel around drunkenly, only my own buoyancy keeping me upright. I'm still loopy as I watch the payoff. She's always got to beat me.

. . . The explosion of bubbles from the Tigress, her legs and arms straining to the maximum make it look like she either exploded herself, or is being drawn and quartered. But Master hasn't stopped, I realize, his arms move in unison now, She's near done, but he isn't. She tries to sit up, but her back arches as she convulses in an aftershock. She tries to push or claw him away with her feet, but she can't pull them back far enough to catch him before they thrust out in reaction. As tiny bubbles, like a fine mist, pour out of her crotch, she goes into a disjointed frenzy, arms, legs, and head flopping everywhere. Bubbles from her mouth add to the ones from her crotch.

. . . Must feel like warm ginger ale or beer poured in there to fizz, I think numbly, still in the warm glow of my own boom.

. . . The flopping slows. My Master hasn't. He continues until the last the Tigress loses her last air, and lies still, her eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. My Master stands away from her and begins working out his hands. I push the chains away from my legs, and walk towards him. I take his hands and massage out the kinks. I'll just push them into his brain where they'll be fun, I think as the predatory look he gives me makes my knees weak. He's on me in a rush. I squeal in fear, before he gathers me up. He grins at that. This could be very good, or very bad, I realize.

. . . He sets me down on the Tigress's belly, and starts slipping me out of the tank's straps. Warily, I help him. He sets the tank aside, but close enough I can easily reach it. He lays down on top of me and pulls the regulator from my mouth. His kiss is almost savage in it's intensity. He's as hard as a rock and horny as a Feral Vixxen, I think happily as I breathe deeply from his mouth, while our tongues fence and wrestle, I pull my cheongsam aside before I pull his shorts down. That's all the permission he needs, thrusting deep into me.

. . . The water pumped out of my muff as he plunges in makes me giggle, the in-rush as he pulls out sets me happily squirming. His hands squeeze and massage my breasts as he thrusts in, and slow pulls out to thrust in hard again. I'm almost afraid one of us will bite the other, I worry as his near Feral rutting continues. I wrap my legs around him, and let my fingers dance over his bare back.

. . . I hold back my orgasm, waiting for his. I owe him that much, I guess rescuing the damsel and raping the attacker to death is a strain. He spurts into me, breaking our lip lock. I let the orgasm go as he settles back into my arms. My kiss and hug are only partially for life-support, but because I can feel him, feel his mind. Don't probe deeply, I remind myself, They warned us before the attack. It's like standing on the shore in sunlight, while a storm rages at sea. If I try to step into that, I'll be destroyed. But on the shore is dry and warm. I want to shake my head in amazement. So much .. . fury, I wonder -

. . . The sound of bubbles alerts both of us. But the Tigress is grinning ear to ear around the regulator. Her arms, legs and tail enfold us in a hug and real warmth. She nods to my Master, and laughs so we can feel it through her body. Master settles back, breathing easily into me. I lie back on the Tigress who seems content to act as mattress as long as her air holds out.

. . . After a time of peaceful reverie. She picks us both up, and carries us in her arms through the door. Just inside, she stops, and sets me down. Her expression is eloquent in its request to Master.

. . . He sleepily nods and removes the regulator, before kissing her. The bubbles from their shared breathing drift and disperse. Then we're outside.

. . . "That was fan - FUCKING - tastic!" the Tigress shouted as she hugged them both tightly to her bosom. "I've never had a Taming like that! Do you think -?"

. . . "Not for at least a week, more like a month," he told the pair tiredly, and groaned, "It was definitely not as easy as it looked. And what do you mean 'fantastic'? I tricked you, fought you, lured you into a trap and would have murdered you. Then I - "

. . . "Fucked your Pokègirl silly on my corpse," she replied happily and hugged the pair again, "You can't imagine how good that felt!" she shouted as she spun around, the two of them locked in her grip.

. . . "You're crazy," he replied, "Or I'm missing something."

. . . "Both. I knew it was a game, I knew you weren't really going to hurt me! So half the fun was the anticipation. I nearly creamed myself when you attacked me, instead of running for it." She sighed, her grin fixed on her face. "I never knew being a mattress like that would be such a turn on. Feeling your skin sliding over me, the thrust forcing me to exhale and then inhale," she said in dreamy reverie, "Like you were bringing me back to life." She sighed again. "Next time, I'm going to be a more active backstop, have you rub your body where it really itches."

. . . "I'm glad you enjoyed it, and it sounds like you two aren't through."

. . . Cheryl gasped and blushed. "No, we aren't, if you - "

. . . "I don't mind, and I won't stop you," he said and tousled her hair, "Just leave me somewhere quiet and private. I feel like I could sleep for a month."

. . . "So I guess you wouldn't see a Tigress in bed as a good thing," she said sadly as she set Cheryl down, "I understand, old man. I'd probably kill you, but I'd make sure you died happy."

. . . "I can barely keep up with my responsibilities, now," he said, "I'm sorry."

. . . She hugged him. "It's okay, it's okay," she said soothingly, "It's a common problem with Tigresses. Every young buck wants one to prove he's a stud, and every girl thinks they have to exceed the reputation. If they don't mature with their Tamer's aging, they wind up hurting him, or dangerously tiring him out. You're right. Once in a while is probably better." She stopped, and hugged him again, but seemed to be analyzing. "You're shivering."

. . . Cheryl pressed her lips against his forehead. "But you have a fever."

. . . "Just tired," he explained, "Overexertion."

. . . "Okay, we'll let you rest," the Tigress said. They entered a small building. "It latches from the inside, but most officers have a key. I don't think anyone will wander out here."

. . . "They're all still busy inside," Cheryl said, and smirked.

. . . "Too bad we couldn't record it," the Tigress said.

. . . "Adds to the Legend of Bastion. Some Tamer pushed a Panthress into the water and Tamed her to death, came in to collect the bounty and Tamed all the officers at the station," he suggested, "It goes with the attitude of the locals, so it'll be believed more than the truth."

. . . "Okay," the Tigress said as she laid him on the wide bunk, "Can we get you anything. A blanket, a space heater." She snickered. "Or some - one?"

. . . "Only, if the someone, just wants to snuggle. And you two are free to do as you wish, although . . . doing it near the Megamis' cages might be interesting."

. . . The two Pokègirls laughed at that as they left.

. . . "He's safe, the heat of that shed will keep him from getting a chill," Cheryl said, "You really enjoyed it?"

. . . "It was a fun game, and I have to admit, I always wanted a little violent hatesex."

. . . " 'Hatesex'?"

. . . "Half the arrests we make around here, the Tamer's act and some say 'if you were in my Harem, I'd make you squeal.' There's times when I just wanted to throw the arrogant little bug on the floor and pump them until they squeal for their mommies. I knew he wanted to hurt me, maybe even kill me, and he was going to use sex as the weapon. Just like he said. He hid it, but not really well."

. . . Cheryl shook her head. "You got into it more than I did," she admitted, "I wanted . . . him to do what he did. To claim me." She sighed softly. "Although watching you two go at it, after figuring out he was killing you, had some fascination. Even though I knew it was a game."

. . . "By the way, is there anyway to bottle that stuff? What you did to the air. A few canisters of that would stop a Wreckball mob dead in its tracks."

. . . Cheryl shook her head. "I might be able to teach someone the spell for my desp-air, but it would take a while." She looked at the Tigress. "If you enjoined playing the evil Pokè, why didn't you squeeze me."

. . . "First," she said as she hugged Cheryl tight and leered at her, "I wanted to ride that tight body of yours."

. . . Cheryl blushed furiously at that.

. . . "Second, after I saw that bubble trick of his. I realized if I'd actually hurt you, even slightly, or he thought I did, he'd shove a finger up my crotch, and blow me so full, it'd blow my guts out my ass. If he didn't just explode me outright."

. . . "He wouldn't do that," Cheryl protested.

. . . The Tigress shook her head. "There's a lot of anger in him, more than most caught crooks. I can guess where it comes from, but not what he's got to do to keep it in. But whatever he did, he isn't doing it, or there's lots more coming in than he can let out. So he might have hurt me. He's very protective. We've beaten in to most Tamers that they are the weak and vulnerable ones. He might know it, but he doesn't believe it."

. . . "Or he doesn't care," Cheryl said, "Doesn't care about wounds to the body, or even death."

. . . "Maybe," the Tigress said as she thought, "Instead, he stuck with his plan and drawing it out, making that orgasms bigger and bigger, gods, I thought I was going to burst. Then he made it more. Knowing he meant to kill me with it helped. Made it erotic, instead of a complete surprise."

. . . "I saw his mind, or maybe his spirit," Cheryl said, "A terrible storm, seas boiling, lightning, fire, all of it at sea. The small strip of land around it, a very pleasant beach. I could imagine being torn apart, or drown in that storm. But there was no danger on that beach. That's probably what happens with the telepaths. They try a sip, and are forced to drink the whole sea. They either drown, or explode."

. . . "Kind of what I was afraid of," the Tigress joked, "He needs you. He needs someone who can let him be strong, without him seeming to be a Master. He wants to lead from the front, to take the battering and protect the others."

. . . "A Feral Puppy would tear him to shreds," Cheryl replied.

. . . "That might be why he's so angry. He wants people around him, people who like him, but he doesn't want them to depend on him for too much, and definitely not for everything."

. . . "He needs someone to depend on . . . who isn't out to use him for their own plots." Cheryl put her hands over her face. "Brother, did - the Megami Alliance screw up."

. . . "And the S-Goths, and the two idiots they sent to watch him. According to reports, they watch him kill an Amazon-chan, by himself. And it never occurred to them just how different he is."

. . . They entered the area where the cells were. "Hello, ladies," the Tigress said as she looked around at the Megami in various states of undress and dishevelment, "Oh good, you saw the play, now the after game highlights." She pulled Cheryl down and began scissoring with her.

. . . The tall girl in uniform entered. He raised his head and looked over his shoulder to see her. She held up the sheet she was carrying. "It's light, but it's opaque, and . . . I'm kind of shy."

. . . "Is that why you aren't Taming with the others?" he asked.

. . . "Yeah, kinda."

. . . "Com'er." He motioned her over.

. . . She squeaked happily and slipped out of her blouse and skirt. She noted he'd laid down with his back to her. "I . . . I sleep in the nude."

. . . "That's fine, you said you were shy," he replied, "Drape the sheet over us and crawl in."

. . . She happily spooned up behind him. She wrapped her arms and leg around him, and lay there, just listening to his breathing.

. . . Your new Megami may have prevented these Pokègirls from recording your exploits, champion, Hild thought, But I'll just let Bastit and Macavity see what trick and fury my champion can play. Maybe show Whore-Oh how good sex is perfect for a good kill. That should make her cry, she thought happily and she snuggled against him, letting his rhythmic breathing lull her.

. . . "Are you keeping me from falling down, or running away?" he asked the Megami holding his arm almost painfully.

. . . "Both I guess," Cheryl said, "Is this home?" she asked in wonder.

. . . "No. I don't - "

. . . "What is the meaning of this?" one of the Megami charged across the lawn and shook her tassels at him in fury, Cheryl withdrew behind him in fear, "That Titmouse just looked at my card, and dismissed me. Me!"

. . . "If you can't follow simple instructions, you're of no use to me or anyone else," he replied coldly, "So are you illiterate, arrogant, or just stupid?" He stared at the stunned Megami until she turned away.

. . . Most of the rest of the group were similarly stunned. As he watched, many vanished from sight. There were six left with the rest of his Harem. Miss Mixmaster was one, and the only centauroid Megami he'd ever seen. Tellingly, she was wearing a long skirt on her human waist. He glanced at the two chalkboards as he walked towards the last group with Cheryl holding on to him, then snagged a blank index card and handed it to Cheryl. "Fill out the front like the first, and the back like the second."

. . . " 'Anti-Demon Pole of Inaccessibility Session', 'your specialties'," she read one board, then the other, " 'Family Name, First Name', 'Government ID no.', 'Telephone number or e-mail at which you can be reached'. How could anyone mess up that?"

. . . "Let me count the ways," Angie said as she smiled ruefully at her Master, "From sixty to six." She glared at him. "How did you know that would work?"

. . . "It worked for my Grandfather during the Great Depression. With 37% unemployment, you'd think people would actually listen carefully to the instructions."

. . . "There's one problem," Angie said.

. . . "That's me," the centaur volunteered.

. . . " 'Family Name, Gwendoline', 'Government ID no.', 'Telephone number or e-mail at which you can be reached'," he read aloud, then flipped the card over, " 'Anti-Demon Pole of Inaccessibility Session', 'generalist'." He turned to Angie. "What's the problem? What were your instructions?"

. . . "Like you told me 'fill out the card as indicated on the boards', and then I read each instruction."

. . . "It looks like the board," he said, "Considering that she might not have that information, she at least followed directions. That's the best we can ask for."

. . . "Thank you."

. . . "What's this 'generalist'?" he asked, "Megami are either expert or lousy at something."

. . . "I seem to be lousy at being terrible at something, and superlative at being pretty good at anything," she answered, "At least now I am."

. . . "What happened?" he asked.

. . . She knows this is make or break, he thought, So does she play 'Megami-vague' or tell the truth?

. . . "My Master, irritated some people. So they sabotaged the transport system. Gwen the Megami, and Madoline the Clydesdame, were supposed to pop out of our Pokèballs twisted, writhing and dying, as a message to our Master. Madoline's Pokèball was empty, and Gwendoline emerged from the other ball."

. . . "Where's your Master now?" Angie asked.

. . . "They stopped sending warnings, and sent a Hyberbeam instead," Gwendoline said sadly, "I drifted into Alliance hands, and drifted out when I couldn't fit in. They have exacting standards, and all variations much be achieved through consensus."

. . . "So they bribe, browbeat or blackball any free-thinkers, leaders or people with a consciences," he said, and turned to Angie, "I can see why the real deal hate them so."

. . . The Titmouse purpled. "Uh, Master, what do you mean?"

. . . "Angie Douglas is one of my main characters. I know what she is," he whispered to the Titmouse, then turned to the centauroid, "Gwendoline is a long name, when brevity or haste is required. Since 'Gwen' would not be an acceptable shortening, would you accept the nickname of 'GM', feel free to stomp anyone who makes 'Buick' jokes. Say, do they still make Buicks here?"

. . . "Acceptable," she said, "Thank you. Uh. Since it always comes up. Yes, the skirt around my human waist is for modesty."

. . . "Message received," he said, "So . . . any desire for both ends at once? Or something like that?"

. . . "Only if you want to get both pregnant, and that's about two years away."

. . . He nodded. "Okay, you're in." He looked as Ms. Mixmaster. Angie handed him her card.

. . . "It is filled out correctly," the Titmouse supplied, "I still can't believe it worked."

. . . "It swept out the ego problems as well. If you can't swallow your pride enough to fill out some simple information, then you can't swallow your pride to be part of a team. 'Dance, sex, kinky sex, administration, diplomacy,' and 'Phrenology' that's reading someone's history or personality by the bumps on their head?"

. . . "Or as I put it, the marks from crashing into the walls of life. Yes, I do indulge in 'vague' but only because I prefer to put things in poetic terms."

. . . "Just stay away from the limericks when you're warning of danger," he said.

. . . She smirked at that. The last four were dressed like Sailor Senshi who'd discovered the color pallet could extend to their entire costume, not just the trim. The bows and ruffles were kept to a minimum. I didn't pick them, because I suspected I couldn't pick just one.

. . . "Ladies - "

. . . They all stood up. "You need us," the leader said flatly.

. . . "Normally I might be irritated by that kind of interruption, but from Megami that's practically an act of open revolt. Why do I need you?"

. . . "We have a ship," another said, and glanced nervously at the others.

. . . "Like I said about 'vague', I appreciate it's your calling card," he said and noted their frowns, also uncharacteristic, "And there might be security concerns, but why would I want your ship?"

. . . And they didn't call it a boat, or vessel, so . . . ?

. . . They glanced at each other nervously. Finally the leader leaned close and whispered, "134."

. . . "Mrs. E.T. Meredith?" he whispered back.

. . . "Junior."

. . . "Mark 16s?" he whispered back.

. . . "They need some work, we were hoping you'd be willing to make it a working passage," the leader said and smiled nervously.

. . . He nodded and started to turn. "I think - " Nearly colliding with Commander Genek. "Ex-SEAL. I take it you've talked with these ladies?"

. . . "Current. Yes, indeed. Technically, they're not in the Navy's employ, but we have a - working relationship," the Commander said and grinned.

. . . An urgent tapping on his shoulder brought him around to face Cheryl. "They're all known traitors to the Alliance, if that helps."

. . . Someone who turns his coat once, he thought briefly, But if the turn is ideological . . . what makes me think I've got a choice in the matter?

. . . "Have they had the epiphany you did?" he asked.

. . . "I can ask them," she offered.

. . . "Please do so. 'Some work'. Excuse me a moment." He headed for the house. Isaik and Warden fell in behind him.

. . . Damn, Maus is off sulking, or trying to make amends, he thought, Master has to be Master.

. . . "Tell Maus to get back here," he told Warden sharply, "She can sulk on her own time."

. . . "Master, about - "

. . . "It's done with, tell her to get back here - now."

. . . Warden ran off. He spotted Isaik's swiftly hidden smile.

. . . NO choice at all, he thought.

. . . As he entered the parlor, he spotted his quarry, and several other men. "Miguelito, I know how you like puzzles. I think I have a puzzle for you to help solve, and in 4 weeks. And these gentlemen?"

. . . "A bit of the unexpected," Miguelito said, and grinned, "A gift of a puzzle, later you must tell me more."

. . . "Unexpected? Right now I'd even expect the Spanish Inquisition," he said. One of the men smirked. "And you sirs, are .. . ?"

. . . "Cardinals Biggles, Fang, and Ximinez, at your service sir." The man bowed slightly. The others looked bemused.

. . . Those aren't Neru suits, he realized, they're clerical collars.

. . . "Ship full of Megami and three ministers," he said, "I can imagine how you'll be spending your nights, even if the celibacy clause is still in effect."

. . . "Bishop Cameron, of the Pope of the Silver River League," said the bearded man with the bright eyes.

. . . "Bishop McClellan, of the Church of England," said the man who looked like a credit accountant, who recently bend sucked dry by a Vampire.

. . . "Doctor Kincaid, Synod of the Sunshine League," said the woman, whose lack of an Adam's apple and vocal pitch were the only marks of her gender.

. . . "I thank you for your concern. But why do I need any of you? Please excuse my sharpness, so many people seem to be throwing their advice and demands at me, I've taken to counterpunching."

. . . "Understandable. It is a reasonable question. Each one of us are among the most experienced exorcists in our denominations," Bishop Cameron told him, "If you are going against demons. We are the best."

. . . "Reverends, I'm going up against an entire nation of demons, who are bringing their nation here. Nothing short of the Holy Hydrogen Bomb of Heidelberg is going to do the job."

. . . "Maybe," Cameron said thoughtfully, then gave a half-smile, "Maybe we already have it, we just have to keep it on track."

. . . He frowned. "No choice at all."

. . . Blossom shook her head, rolled her massive battle form back onto her feet, and stood up. She wobbled a bit, but managed to remain upright. Rainbow, Maus, Warden, Shana and Seadamar were likewise nearly Hors d'combat. The tiny HandMaid was wailing for her fallen Master.

. . . "You aren't hurt are you?" Cheryl asked. Her worried expression at odd with the complete defeat of the most powerful fighters in his group, by her alone.

. . . "Only my pride," Shana said as she accepted the Megami's hand up, "I' ve never even seen some of those foot movements before. And mixing teleportation with hand-to-hand combat . . . never seen it."

. . . Cheryl shrugged. "I always wondered why I wasn't a Seraph. I'm good at fighting. Not so good at other things."

. . . "That explains how you knocked me down in the fight," Shana said, "Your strength is on par with the rest of ours. How'd his gunfire work then?"

. . . Cheryl's vague enthusiasm faded. "I could feel how much he hated us," she said quietly, blushing in deep shame, "For a human to physically attack a Megami is almost unknown. For him to kick one, to save a possible traitor . . . the bullet and the kick didn't stun me. The feeling behind them did."

. . . "Makes sense. If you felt what he was feeling, it must have come as a blow. But that doesn't explain the yellowing bruise on your cheek."

. . . "It didn't start to heal until I realized he didn't hate me. He hated what I was doing," Cheryl said wistfully, "I just wish he would have taken me on that table. Made me his. But he wouldn't do that. Would he?"

. . . "I don't know," Shana stood and stretched, "He's not a Tamer, so he doesn't fit the pattern."

. . . "Oh, but he is! Should we try again?" Cheryl asked happily.

. . . "You try with the others, I've gotten my proof, and bruises," Shana said as she walked out of the practice yard and sat with the rest of the stunned group, "She can fight."

. . . "We - noticed that, ouch! That's gonna leave a mark," Isaik winced as she said it.

. . . "Where's the boss?" Shana asked and cringed as the Megami again made mincemeat out of a cadre of coordinated, powerful fighters, "They'll do better if they use their powers. And she trains them."

. . . "Just hand to hand this time. He's off giggling somewhere. 'Bad for morale', he said," Angie said, and winced as Warden and Maus smacked into each other, "I think he knew."

. . . "He probably asked her," Shana said as the Megami tore through the defenders again. Knocking them all down without hurting them. "It's like the others aren't even awake."

. . . "It's the teleport, and the fact she has unconscious powers. It's hard to topple someone who can fly, or resist the push of someone who can seem to weigh dozens of tons," Roxanne said, "Aurora and I can do the same, but not to that level. We could match her powers, but not her skill."

. . . "Then you two will be sparring," Angie said, "If you can move up to that level, we're moving you to that level."

. . . Roxanne sighed and gave Aurora an apologetic look. The other FarFuck'd just shrugged. "What about our Master? He seems to think he can fight."

. . . "I think he might need some conditioning," Angie said, "As for fighting, we should convince him to let us do the front-line fighting. He's intimidated and assassinated, that's different that standing in the line of battle against a Pokègirl."

. . . "There was that ambush I helped with," their Master pointed out, every one of the girls froze, and guiltily looked at him, "New spell, you don't notice me until I draw attention to myself. I do see your point. Ambushing the overconfident is different than taking on a prepared foe."

. . . Angie nodded. "I'll set something up."

Notes:

In Order of Appearance
Kelvin's Choice (Janus) - human
Eriko (Eko) - Officer Jenny
Erika (Kay) - Nurse Joy (SLIS agent)
Isaik/Underground - Eidolon (Hild's agent)
Hester - Jugguar (Kay's Harem)
Adrian - Heroine (Kay's Harem)
Pool Mouse - Pool Mouse (Eko's Harem)
Warden - Bust Angel (Hild's opposed agent)
Maus - HeavenKat (Hild's opposed agent)
Karen - Viepra (transferred to another Author/Tamer)
Seadamar - GunValkyrie
Miguelito Carmen - human
Antoinette - Bardess (Miguelito's Harem)
Kitten - human (deceased)
Voltaire - Francinestein (Miguelito's Harem)
Doctor Marilyn - Alaka-Wham (Miguelito's agent)
Aurora/One Medallion/Earth -1 - FarFuck'd
Roxanne/Two Medallions/Earth -2 - FarFuck'd
Blossom - Tyrannodame (Kitten's Harem)
Rainbow - Tyrannodame
Lawrene Kali - Sanctuary Goth (agent of Lindi Valiant's faction, deceased)
Galla Juda - Sanctuary Goth (agent of Lindi Valiant's faction, deceased)
Angie - WarMech Titmouse (Angie Douglas's faction)
Sabrina - DildoQueen (Kitten's Harem)
Maggie - Charred Denmother (deceased)
Hatta Mary - Fiendish Cherry
Acerpalmatum - Chikotit
Jackelope - Turtwat/Pidgey G-splice (surrendered to the League)
Food - Khang-Ass Cunt/Milktit/Chickenlittle G-splice (surrendered to the League)
Councillor Skara - Sanctuary Goth (Council faction, deceased)
The Sorceress of the East - Sanctuary Goth (Council faction, deceased)
Commander Genek - Oni (ONI Office of Naval Intelligence)
Lian Alice - Neo-Iczel (retired League Official, suspected Sage)
Snowflake - Panthress (Ancelot's familiar)
Daria/Little StormCloud - Sanctuary Goth (faction unrevealed)
Ronette - SmartDoll (faction unrevealed)
Angie Douglas - human (SLIS agent, Angie Douglas's faction)
Sam - Neo-Iczel
Happy - Demon-Goddess
Jodie - Hyperdoll
Jen - HyperDoll
Fred - Tomboy (faction unrevealed)
Shana - Hunter Ophanim (Ancelot's faction)
Alba - HandMaid
Cheryl - Megami
Tigress

Kelvin's Choice (Janus) - Harem
Isaik/Underground - Eidolon (Hild's agent)
Warden - Bust Angel (Hild's opposed agent)
Maus - HeavenKat (Hild's opposed agent)
Seadamar - GunValkyrie
Alba - HandMaid
Aurora/One Medallion/Earth -1 - FarFuck'd
Roxanne/Two Medallions/Earth -2 - FarFuck'd
Blossom - Tyrannodame (Kitten's Harem)
Rainbow - Tyrannodame
Angie - WarMech Titmouse (Angie Douglas's faction)
Sabrina - DildoQueen (Kitten's Harem)
Hatta Mary - Fiendish Cherry
Acerpalmatum - Chikotit
Jen - HyperDoll
Cheryl - Megami
Tigress

Allies:
Eriko (Eko) - Officer Jenny
Erika (Kay) - Nurse Joy (SLIS agent)
Hester - Jugguar (Kay's Harem)
Adrian - Heroine (Kay's Harem)
Pool Mouse - Pool Mouse (Eko's Harem)

Miguelito Carmen - human
Antoinette - Bardess (Miguelito's Harem)
Kitten - human (deceased)
Voltaire - Francinestein (Miguelito's Harem)
Doctor Marilyn - Alaka-Wham (Miguelito's agent)

Angie Douglas - human (SLIS agent, Angie Douglas's faction)
Sam - Neo-Iczel
Happy - Demon-Goddess
Jodie - Hyperdoll

Lian Alice - Neo-Iczel (retired League Official, suspected Sage)

Maggie - Charred Denmother (deceased)
Jackelope - Turtwat/Pidgey G-splice (surrendered to the League)
Food - Khang-Ass Cunt/Milktit/Chickenlittle G-splice (surrendered to the League)

Enemies:
Lawrene Kali - Sanctuary Goth (agent of Lindi Valiant's faction, deceased)
Galla Juda - Sanctuary Goth (agent of Lindi Valiant's faction, deceased)
Councillor Skara - Sanctuary Goth (Council faction, deceased)
The Sorceress of the East - Sanctuary Goth (Council faction, deceased)

Neutral or Undecided factions:
Commander Genek - Oni (ONI Office of Naval Intelligence)
Snowflake - Panthress (Ancelot's familiar)
Daria/Little StormCloud - Sanctuary Goth (faction unrevealed)
Ronette - SmartDoll (faction unrevealed)
Fred - Tomboy (faction unrevealed)
Shana - Hunter Ophanim (Ancelot's faction)