Abu’s home was a semi-permanent structure built cheek-by-jowl with its neighbors. Erected from the earth and sharing a common wall on three sides, its interior was surprisingly spacious. There was an upstairs and many amenities city-slickers might be surprised to find. It was a part of many like structures surrounding it, similar to a condominium. The construction was economical, its bordering abodes built together to conserve energy and resources. Inside, the atmosphere was somber. Abu could see his mother and father sitting around the table with Abu’s many siblings of which there were eight, two sisters and the rest brothers. At one time, there had been sixteen van Wong children but that was no more. Abu was the youngest sibling that was an adult. Two were his senior, and the rest were still in school. Although, some would likely be joining him in the real world by next year.
Abu and Simeon received a warm greeting by Abu’s parents, Muhammad and Constantina van Wong. His father was a dark-skinned man like Simeon, but Muhammad was a shade or two lighter. The whites of his father's eyes the whites of his eyes were also actually white unlike Simeon's. His mother was much more mixed, fairing light but still noticeably brown skin and slanted, narrow eyes. Her oriental eyes were shared by Abu and many of his siblings.
Dim, energy efficient light bulbs lit the interior, siphoning electrical power off of one of Abu’s aunts, a Belle Awesome by the name of Annita. She spent most of her time basking in the sun as while working outside to help cultivate life during the growing season. At night, she covered up her dark green skin and helped power some of the neighborhood’s lights. Thanks to the plentiful sunshine on this arid isle, she could absorb plenty of energy-producing sunshine without spending so much time topless and in the sun as to give herself heat exhaustion. Abu was thankful for this too. Even though he was not biologically related to his aunt, the sight of her bare-ass naked churned his stomach as much as his father, mother, or any other member of his family would. It felt almost incestuous.
Still, he greeted his aunt Annita with a hug. Abu was closer to this aunt than some of his others. He had taught her how to make batteries which he had learned from an after-school program some years ago, and they had bonded over it nicely. This was actually quite beneficial to the family since they could now sell and recharge batteries for their neighborhood. This was in addition to receiving a modest income for providing electrical illumination at night. This was by no means something one could live off of; they were not in the business of fleecing their neighbors. Fortunately, some amount of loyalty and friendship made patronage consistent, netting the family an extra few thousand credits during the summer and more during the winter. It was more of a service than a living, but they enjoyed the luxury of electricity more than most of the town. They even had a few minor electronics such as simple cellular communicators and one ancient, often buggy computer. The computer was used for business by Constantina, Abu’s mother, and kept their affairs in order.
After Abu embraced Tifawt and gave her a quick kiss, he sent her off to mingle with the other pokegirls. Off in a corner of the sitting area, the pokegirls sat at their own table. He vaguely noticed that Tifawt and Annita were sitting together. They had hit it off quite well when he first brought his shiny new Saguara home. They spent hours talking about water and other things that blurred together into “plant stuff” within Abu’s mind. He almost left to go visit with his family and Simeon when he paused and remembered to release one of his other two pokegirls. She was a petite thing and rather short. Her hair was black and shiny with fair skin the color of tea with milk, and her nose sloped pleasantly. Together with the rest of her features, she could be pegged as most likely of Crescent Moon or possibly White Lotus stock. A remarkable quality was her eyes, a brilliant shade of green which was not commonly seen in this area. Most people with lightly colored eyes had to wear protective lenses most times of the day being less resilient to the unforgiving Sun. This was the one thing that made her stand out. Otherwise, it would be possible for her blend in with average women were it not for pokedex scanners being able to unveil such a charade almost immediately.
This one was a Sidekick by the name of Dima. Originally, Abu had obtained her cheaply as an Ingenue secondhand. Her previous owner was some schmuck fed up with trying to evolve her into something without coughing up the money for one of the pricier e-stones. After purchasing her off of him, Abu promptly headed off to fetch an e-stone with which to turn her into an ice Sidekick. The idea was to make sleeping through the lethal desert day more bearable with an ice Sidekick's cold aura. Unfortunately, before he could get to the town with a shop with ice crystals in stock, Dima just had to spontaneously transform into a rock-type. That was not to say that Dima was unuseful. She could bend rocks and earth with just her mind which made erecting day-time shelter a much simpler task. She was an all-around a boon to the party.
“A new one?” Muhammad van Wong, Abu’s father, inquired, “Cute too.” Muhammad was lanky, tall but a thin ectomorph. He did not lack in muscle though, and was most certainly “farm strong.” He was also noticeably taller than Abu, but then again Abu would not be full grown for some years.
Dima beamed at the praise. The ‘girl was so starved for positive attention that even the slightest was enough to send her into a cheer. Abu was also pretty certain that her previous owner had never had the courtesy to properly finish her off, but that was just idle speculation. “Thank you, sir!” Dima chirped at Muhammad’s compliment.
Abu draped his arm around Dima in mock protectiveness. “Mine,” he snapped before his expression pretty much immediately cracked into one of humor. Despite the levity, Abu could feel a hint of desperation in the way Dima snuggled into him. From what Abu understood, she would normalize in due time. He had no reason to expect abuse, so he had little worry for her.
“Don’t you worry, Son,” Muhammad said with a deep laugh, “I’ve got plenty.” He then cast an exaggerated faux-surreptitious glance at his harem and Abu’s mother. It made Abu feel uncomfortable, but he tried not to show it because he knew his father was razzing him. It would escalate in little increments until Constantina was on the verge of strangling her husband for making a scene. In fact, Constantina was already sending a look of light disapproval, the kind of disapproval that was the minimum necessary to show that she should be bothered by this even if she was long used to it. Taking an opportunity to get back at his parents, Abu used his arm around Dima to pull her into a quick snog. Dima was surprised but receptive despite the public nature of this display. She even almost copped a feel before Abu broke it off and directed her towards the pokegirl table. He did not want to push the envelop that far.
Now that had gotten Constantina to clear her throat in a great amount of parental upset, now truly disapproving of the situation. “Not in public, young man,” she said sternly. Despite the chastisement, she was less disgusted with the display than she was the finger guns Abu shot her, letting her know he had gotten her goat. She shut her slanted eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose and left to attend to something elsewhere. There were better things to do than engage in a pissing contest with her sons and husband who were equipped with the male ego, something which enabled them to take things to much greater extremes. Family is wonderful.
At the pokegirl table, Dima stood hesitantly. Behind her just out of earshot was the group of mingling humans, and they were all friends and family. The humans were doing their own thing and seemed to be enjoying themselves despite the heavy, negative atmosphere that loomed in the background. Perhaps they were compensating or trying to fill the room with cheer? They did seem genuinely happy to see each other though. Dima approached the one other pokegirl she recognized, Tifawt, but too late did it register in her mind that Tifawt was already sitting between two other pokegirls. Dima hesitated again. Fortunately, one of the pokegirls sitting next to Tifawt, a feathered breed she could not identify off of the top of her head, stood and offered her her seat. The feathered 'girl left before Dima could protest or otherwise dig herself in deeper with polite protesting.
“Thank you,” Dima said softly before taking her new seat. There was an empty plate in front of her that appeared to be made out of some kind hollowed out turtle shell. Dima certainly hoped it was from an actual turtle and not a pokegirl. She loathed to think about what creature gave of themselves to make this. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and attempted to tune into the conversations of the other pokegirls.
“And who’s this?” the Belle Awesome next to Tifawt asked. Oh dear, it was already about her. “Already Abu is charming more ‘girls into his tent?” came the plant-type’s lilting voice.
Seeing that Dima was still in shock from being in front of so many unfamiliar faces at once in such a familiar setting- it is very different entering someone’s home and being expected to mingle with people than just wading through the bustle of civilization without so much as making eye contact- Tifawt intervened. “Yes, Aunt Annita, she’s Abu’s alright,” she said, “Been with us for a bit. She helped us wall off a Naga den not to long ago with her geokinesis. Abu had us leave one opening just big enough for their bodies to fit through so we could whack them one at a time as they tried to come out.”
Annita looked interested. “How’d you get them to come out?” she asked, leaning in towards Tifawt. When Tifawt turned her attention to Dima, Annita did the same as did a couple others who were yet to be absorbed into their own conversations.
Shifting somewhat uncomfortably, Dima answered, “After we collapsed the other exits, I made a weak tremor to scare them out. I can't make a quake yet, but Naga are very sensitive to vibrations..." The pokegirls listening all giggled. Dima cracked a smile too once she realized what she had inadvertently said. "I haven't been a rock type for too long though," she continued, "and can't really tunnel or do anything that requires huge amounts of displacement."
"Damn you Archimedes!" Annita said in mock exclamation, going so far as to shake her fist to the ceiling above. Some of the pokegirls looked confused, but others seemed amused. Tifawt and Dima both giggled girlishly, having heard their master, Abu, curse similarly in the past and not always jokingly. It was a running joke in the family. Nobody really remembered who started it, but it had become tradition accuse that particular god of the Thousand, who separated the elements and gave the water element its power, as being the reason why they couldn't have nice things.
"You'll get better," another 'girl at the table reassured.
Dima smiled before proudly sharing, "But, I can collapse small caves and make dugouts to sleep in. That's not too hard." Dima soon was beaming at the many nods of approval. Many of them either were or had been in a tamer's harem at some point. They knew that to be a skill of paramount importance in this part of Jade where improper shelter meant death by exposure, day or night. Socializing was growing less intimidating by the moment.
“Well, our nephew is lucky to have you,” another pokegirl said, a large woman with slate grey skin and oil black hair. Her shoulders and arms were toned with no small amount of muscle although not so much as to incline one to think she was an Amachop. Yet, the especially delicate way she handled the plate of yams passed her way implied that she indeed had great strength. “Don’t let him forget it,” she added. A sly look crossed her face before punctuating it all with, “Showing is better than telling.”
Dima’s mind went straight to the gutter, figuring that the other pokegirl had meant that she was to “show” him in the tent. She did not immediately think that because she was obsessed with sex or anything of the sort. It was just that whenever large groups of pokegirls got together, sex tended to come up a lot. Even those that were not huge fans of it had a lot to talk about. There were many commonalities between pokegirls concerning sex that were not sexual per se: the need overriding want, bad lays forced on them, owners that would just not stop accosting them for a tumble until they were just sick of it, the desperation for anything with a pulse to save them from the descent into madness that was the feral state, and of course good old fashioned rape.
Sex was so ingrained in the slave culture that it was difficult to avoid the topic. Humans were unhelpful in this matter; most freely and unabashedly probing pokegirls on the topic. They were seen by most as purely sexual beings with few other characteristics after all. The irony was that sex with pokegirls was linguistically sterilized in all parts of the world. It was reduced to “taming,” a mere function of pet care rather than an act of passion or even lovingness.
Feeling self-conscious, Dima nodded rather than verbally responding to Abu’s grey-skinned aunt. Instead, she focused on dishing herself up some of the food that was passed her way. Her grip almost slipped on the serving bowl when she heard the next bit. “She shouldn’t have much trouble teaching Abu to appreciate her with a rack like that,” a sheep ‘girl proclaimed. Dima could not tell which sheep she ways, but she spotted some horns upon her head.
“Say, she does have a rather nice pair for her body type,” another commented, leaning over to get a better look. The sudden shift of attention from Dima’s person to her assets drove her from her previous self-assuredness and back to feeling uneasy in the group. It was not as if she was uncomfortable with her body, far from it. No, it was plain weird to talk about her body in the context of using it to pleasure a man who was a nephew of many of the pokegirls at the table. Many had probably changed a diaper or two in the past. On the bright side, this conversation was with other pokegirls and not Abu’s human parents. Now that would be awkward.
Dima cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said, enjoying the compliment despite herself. She looked down, pressing her shoulders forward to compress her bosoms into a generous cleavage. They were nice, were they not? And then, Dima’s eyes widened. A hand had come in from the left and was hovering over one of her tits.
“May I?” the pokegirl to her left asked. It was the sheep ‘girl. There was no small amount of lechery in her appraising look, but Dima did not want to be rude. They were all pokegirls, after all.
“Uh, go for it,” Dima said, giving the green light to grope. She shifted when sheep ‘girl’s hand closed on her left breast. The calluses on her hand could be felt through the thin fabric of her garments and bra. Dima tensed when a rough thumb brushed over her nipple and began to draw circles around it. Her neighbor was certainly taking her time weighing and caressing her boob. Fortunately for Dima, the sheep ‘girl let go before it could get too invasive.
“Oo, she’s sensitive!” the sheep ‘girl said, sending many of the other pokegirls into a titter.
Dima flushed, actually embarrassed to have that advertized. “Well, they’re kinda new,” she said. Eyebrows went up all around. Well, in some cases it was more brow ridges than eyebrows. Able to tell that some explanation was warranted, Dima elaborated, “When Abu bought me, I was skinny. Not flat mind you, but got kinda jealous of Tifawt.” She looked to her right and eyed the Saguara’s curves. Tifawt had covered her chest in some kind of cloth wrap and put on a skirt. This was probably to keep herself from being too distracting in the formal setting, but her exposed midriff and the revealing nature of the ensemble made her figure no secret. Dima averted her eyes from Tifawt and cleared her throat. “So when Abu met up with another tamer with the right pokegirls,” she continued, “he arranged to get me the right powders for a little confidence boost.”
There were no looks passing judgement at the table. Bloom powder, buttsprout, and their antidotes were so common that most pokegirls and most human women as well had used one of them them at least once. Some owners would powder their pokegirls until they looked like something that should never leave the pages of drawn pornography. The upside was such a thing was reversible, but perverts were in no short supply. Strange predelictions often rise to the surface when given total control over another being. Most pokegirls were just thankful there was no cocksprout. Otherwise, every harem pokegirl would be skewered on monstrous and painful genitalia because their owners felt like getting themselves just a bit bigger. Sometimes bigger could be nice, but if such a powder were ever developed, it would probably be taken to unreasonable extremes. Human beings are strange that way.
Tifawt gave Dima a knowing look. “She wanted them bigger,” she said much to Dima’s embarrassment, “but Abu told her it would giver her back trouble.” Dima sputtered, but Tifawt was on a roll. “So, she suggested she balance it by putting some more junk in the trunk. I personally don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Tifaaaawt,” Dima whined, not sure how to express her feelings about this abject betrayal.
“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Tifawt said soothingly, “you’ll have plenty of dirt on me in a while. Hard to keep secrets when we spend most of our time within earshot of one another.”
Harrumphing, Dima stabbed at her food in an almost violent manner. She wondered if humans ever had to deal with this kind of thing visiting others’ homes.