Training

Shimmering high above the canyon, the sun beams down on the rocks, enjoyed by the roaming Pokémon. You watch it slip out of sight, melting behind the mountainous landscape, as you step into one of the many caverns of the valley, though the heat lingers on your skin. The cavern is humid: the rocks surrounding you warm to the touch, and the air buzzes with an energy that rattles your nerves.

It made sense— this area was sacred. Vast Poni Canyon: the first natural trial, undisturbed by human hands. There was something about it you couldn’t resist. Something almost…mystical, spanning aeons and aeons. It was the perfect place to train. To hone your skills as a trainer.

Your Pokémon pads along ahead of you, sniffing and pawing at the rocky walls and floors. Every so often he turns and cries to you, its gaze intense yet excitable, before scampering along ahead to scout out the area. A Hakamo-o, native to the land and the mystical energies it’s drenched in, and bratty as they come.

He had led you this far in, pulling you from your intended path toward the trial summit like an excited child looking for ice-cream, not interested in your lack of climbing ability as the cliffs got steeper and the paths more jagged and dangerous. The further he went ahead, the further you had to follow, and there was no chance you were turning back at that point.

The cavern winds down and around, burrowing deep into the canyon. Hakamo-o leads you through a tunnel, skittering ahead and turning to wait for you to emerge. You scamper through not nearly as gracefully, clothes catching and tearing on the walls.

“Seriously—” you begin to say with a sigh, readjusting your hat, though it dies on your lips the moment you emerge into the chamber. It’s vast: a gargantuan, empty arena, surrounded by balconies of rock on each side, though the farthest stretches are cast into shadows. The air is thickest here, dense, tingling with that same mystical energy from before, and a murmur of wonder leaves your lips before you can think.

“Haka!” Hakamo-o chirps brightly at you, clearly sharing the sentiment. He nuzzles into your hand when offered, playfully nibbling your fingers and tugging you deeper into the room. All around you, the clatter of his claws and scales bounce against the walls, echoing.

“Was this where you wanted to take me?” you ask, laughing. Hakamo-o gurgles between your fingers, smacking his tail into the ground as he leads you into the centre of the room and finally drops your hand. “Good job!”

You pat him on the head, grinning when he purrs back happily at you and darts off. While he scampers around, you find a good spot to drop your stuff, settling on a small perch of broken stone resting just off to the side. It’s jagged, with long cracks running over the uneven surface. You set your eyes skyward, squinting into the deep darkness. Had it fallen from up there?

Thinking nothing more of it, you drop your backpack carelessly and stride back into the centre of the cavern, and Hakamo-o bounds toward you when you motion for him to follow. Smirking, you roll up your sleeves and offer your hand out to him. “Alright. Let’s get busy! Time to test out our new training spot!”

Hakamo-o clasps your hand and chirps in agreement.

He leaps away from you, feet skidding across the dirt. When he stops, he whips his gaze back up at you. His muscles tense. Fire seems to burn in his eyes, mirrored in your own, as he waits for your command.

Raising a fist, you call out: “Okay! Let’s go with Screech!”

“Mo!” Comes his cry of agreement. Planting his feet, he leans backwards and inhales sharply, exuding the air in a near-deafening roar that carries around the entire room. Braced for the noise you cup your ears, though release your grip on them slowly as the din peters out into nothing but the faint echo. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard before–maybe only on broadcasts of live concerts. Your heart races. The purity of Hakamo-o’s cry is exhilarating!

“Good!” You flash a thumbs-up to him, excitement burning in your stomach. “Now again! Screech!”

Hakamo-o nods and rears his head back once again. This time, despite the faint ringing in them, you don’t cover your ears, content to let the sound wash over you in its entirety. Hakamo-o bellows as loud as he can, and the high-pitched cry reverberates around the room like a bullet. This time it seems to travel further, gushing through the network of tunnels littering the cave before feeding back into the chamber.

You grin. “One more time!”

Hakamo-o obeys, throwing itself back and releasing another shrill cry. It seems louder than before, piercing through your ears, but you make no move to cover them. The sound whirls around you like a hurricane and explodes into the cavern, crashing against stone and rock like a whip. The resonant echo lingers for longer this time, buzzing around your head.

You step forward, intent on changing positions, but your legs give way and you break into a stumble, catching yourself before you eat dirt. Hakamo-o’s cry throbs dully in your mind, settling near the front of your head like a weight. Everything feels hot, as if your skin was on fire. Ignoring it, you glance upwards at the Pokémon and smile, dusting your knees.

“Alright! Time for a change,” you say, eager to move away from the shrill noise. Hakamo-o looks at you eagerly, cocking his head to the side. “Think you can give me a Noble Roar?”

Hakamo-o perks up immediately at your suggestion, tail thrashing into the ground. He rears his head back once more. All at once his body tenses. Seconds pass. Not enough. Just a bit more…

The noise erupts from his throat like cannon-fire: a deep, passionate bellow that shakes the very core of your being. It crashes into the walls and explodes to all sides, enveloping the room and everything around it. Steadying your legs to the barrage of sound, you can’t help but grin at the raw strength of it. In the wild, where it would be whisked away into the air, it wasn’t nearly as impressive as this. This was something else entirely.

As the noise begins to simmer and dip, still bouncing around the room, Hakamo-o pauses. He watches you eagerly, rapping his foot against the ground waiting for your next order. You nod, grin deepening.

And then you stop.

You can’t… think of another order.

You stare blankly at Hakamo-o, that dull ache spreading through your mind and wrapping around your brain. Words bounce to your lips and then vanish before you can say them. Why… Why couldn’t you think of anything?

The tapping of clawed feet draws your focus. Hakamo-o looks at you expectantly, almost impatiently, chirping for your attention. Your lips move slowly, but before you can say anything to him he rears his head backwards and screams.

“Haka!” It bursts from his throat in a thundering cry that sends tremors crawling along your skin. It rumbles for longer this time, seeping into the walls, ricocheting back at you with greater intensity. Shaken, you cast an uncertain glance toward him, your thoughts scattered.

Had… you ordered him to do that?

Hakamo-o looks at you triumphantly. His scales clatter together like pots and pan as he pads towards you, stops, and then cries out, silencing your concerns behind another torrent of noise.

“Mo!” The vibrations sink beneath your skin, seeping through your bones and rocking your body. You stumble forward, eyes blank and unfocused, your body crackling with heat. Skin itching, burning. Flames gnawing through your stomach. Words leap to your mind once more, your next command your— your next order. Hakamo-o opens his beak again, and those thoughts sizzle away.

“Listen,” he says, chirps morphing into words as they penetrate your mind. Then he repeats, and the words ring clearer. “Listen.” On the outside, he’s still crying like any Pokémon, but in your head… in your mind…

“Listen…”

And you do. Focusing completely on him, you listen to his voice, listen to his cries as he approaches, to the way his feet crunch the gravel underfoot, never questioning why you can understand him. The fire tickling your gut has expanded and climbed up your throat, and by then it’s impossible to ignore it. Almost as if alive, it claws through your insides as it scales your body, gouging into your muscles.

Hakamo-o stops just in front of you, his blazing red eyes never leaving yours. His nostrils flare as he sniffs the air, then as he leans in and sniffs your clothes. Like a siren, his chirps erupt in volume and frequency, shattering into excited chitters and grunts. Behind him, the ground cracks as he thwaps his tail against it again and again.

Then he purrs, leans down, and presses his snout into your crotch.

The knot sitting at the base of your stomach tightens. From within your chest, the flames rise up into your throat, warming your cheeks. A gentle, shaky moan falls from your lips, and you flail to push his head away.

“W-Wait…” you say, struggling to worm any confidence into your voice, palming his nose, but he just reaches back around and stuffs his face back into your pants. The contact makes you jolt, makes your loins tingle and burn. Hakamo-o looks up at you and cries happily, and your vision swings violently to one side, then to the other.

“Just be a good human… Good….”

Panting hard, breath falling hot and shuddering from your lips, you find you can’t right your vision. Even when it seems to settle, part of it sways to the side. Flames lick at your entire body, the ones inside you billowing outward and coating your skin. It itches and burns as you try to shove Hakamo-o’s snout away from you. Every time you touch him it seems to itch worse, as if reacting to his body.

“Relax,” he says with a chirp. You croak, another low moan escaping your trembling lips as your cock inflates beneath the reptile’s snout. Feeling the shift, Hakamo-o noses the growing bump of flesh trapped behind your pants, pushing your prying hands away every time they approach, ignoring your shaking murmurs for him to stop. All the while your body continues to sizzle. Your mind continues to spin.

“Relaaaaax,” Hakamo-o repeats. He glances up at you suddenly, catching your lust-torn expression with a chirp, then a louder cry before nudging your growing need. Another cry, muffled by your clothing, hits your ears when you let out an involuntary groan, and his teeth clench around the fly of your pants, slowly tugging it down.

“H— Ha…” you stammer. Shaking, breathing harsh and heavy, you push at his nose with one hand, and fumble along your utility belt with the other, grasping the lone Pokéball hanging from the end of it. “W-What… What’s gotten into you…” The ball clicks as you unhook it, growing to full size in your palm. Hakamo-o turns to it, his expression knowing.

Before you can press the button to call him back in, he turns his attention on it, nosing and batting it playfully in your hand. Shaking as you are, your grip is weak, your fingers and hands numb. It’s like a weird game of tug and war, one you’re definitely not winning. You croak as Hakamo-o nudges the metal ball out of your palm with ease, sending it clattering to the ground button side up.

Hakamo-o’s tail blurs around, sending it sailing into the shadows of the room, a thud crack echoing from far, far away.

Then he turns back on you, expression just as aloof as before, and digs his snout back into your pants, pinning your hands to the side so that he can work without distraction. The tent in your pants lands directly on his nose as he drags the zipper all the way down, and he gives a shrill cry in response. Your head, now pounding, spins again. Your arms are numb and heavy, grey scales trickling out over the skin.

Then it’s his tongue, wet and warm against the soft fabric housing your cock. He laps at it eagerly, trilling and chirping happily as he teases you to full mast behind your underwear. His claws nip your hands when you try to pull away, and his chirps silence you when you try to speak. While your erection quickly grows, your breathing quickens dramatically, and the spinning in your head gets worse.

“Relax,” he repeats.

All you can do is groan, eyelids heavy, legs shaking, as you obey. Hakamo-o smirks up at you, his eyes glowing, scales bristling with orange light. He steps back for just a second, trembling, and somewhere in the back of your mind you recognise the form. It’s a move. Dr… Dragon… Dance?

Your eyes glaze as you stare, thoughts trickling away into nothing. Your face itches. Grey scales line the bridge of your nose, painting across your cheeks as your face stretches away from your skull. Lazily, they wrap around your head like a mask and climb onto your scalp, clumps of hair falling out from beneath your hat.

Hakamo-o purrs, “Take off your clothes. Show me those beautiful scales.”

The words give you pause, tugging on your mind. Releasing a long, shuddery breath from your lips, you glance down at— at your claws. At the heavy scales–a mesmerising yellow and red–lining your grey arms. Your mind ticks and whirs, before settling. Claws… You’d…

You’d always had claws…

You raise them to your chest, pricking them through your shirt, and pull them to either side. It tears easily, floating to the ground in tatters. Immediately it feels like a weight’s been torn from you— freeing your— your scales to the air. You groan in delight, body tensing, wriggling all over. Hakomo-o purrs approvingly, watching them wash over your skin, coating the human flesh in an armour of dragon-hide. You stare ahead, listless, eyes glazing over, shrinking down to match Hakamo-o’s height.

“Gooooood.” Hakamo-o takes your face into his hands as you level with him. You stammer for a response: the words falter on your growing snout. Human language slips from your mind, and your sputtering twists into a series of unintelligible sounds.

“Ha—- Ha… mo…” you say slowly. Hakamo-o’s smile seems to deepen.

“Kneel…” he says gently, and you do, lowering down onto your trembling legs, the flesh there erupting into a canvas of grey, scaly skin. Heat wafts onto your face, drenching your sensitive snout in a rich, cloying scent. Hakamo-o wraps his claws around the plate-like scale growing from your scalp, pricking the fabric of your hat, and pushes down. All of a sudden, your snout bumps into something hot and twitching, and your breath seizes up.

“Lick,” he murmurs, and you obey. Your maw parts, tongue flicking out at Hakomo-o’s cock and running up the front. A strong, earthy taste hits you, penetrating your senses. A light, purring sound bubbles from within your chest. You lick him again, and again, your tongue growing thicker, longer and more sensitive. Above you, Hakamo-o groans, petting your snout, and your own need twitches in anticipation for what comes next.

“Suck.” The command has barely left him before you swallow the heat, balancing it gingerly on your tongue. The warmth swells in your mouth, scents and tastes flickering around your mind. Hakamo-o hisses in delight, letting you work yourself into a rut, bouncing your head on his cock. His hands roam your body, tracing a line where skin turns to scales. Down your back side, circling around the base of your spine, washing over your legs. Shiny grey scales erupt at his simplest touch, decorating your changing body. Your legs twist painlessly, calves and feet morphing to become digitigrade. A tearing sound echoes dully from beneath you, your underwear shredding away from your legs. A dull ache spreads over your toes, nudging insistently at the tips of your trainers. The leather tears, and three large, yellow claws protrude from the holes, before the rest of the footwear tears and buckles under your growing feet, falling limp to the ground beside you. It leaves you naked, and the charged air licks your scaly skin fervently.

Flanking you, the changes ripple down your spine, scales erupting from your skin. Caught between a moan of need and a delighted chitter, a lump of flesh pushes out from above your backside, coated by grey scales as it grows and tapers into a tail. The very tip of your new appendage itches as a larger, plate-like scale perches itself there, smaller than the one on your head.

Hakamo-o inhales deeply through his nose, eyes flickering over your body. “Good.”

Kneeling, he takes your face into his hands once more and lifts you from his need, quickly lapping up the trail of saliva that droops from your maw. He considers you smugly, noting the dimness of your eyes and your haggard breathing. His own eyes seem to shimmer, reflecting your face. Scaly, draconic. Just like his.

Leaning in, he bumps your snouts together, and purrs: “My mate…”

“M… Mo…” Your head is spinning, thoughts turning and scattering. Hakamo-o dips one hand down, wrapping it around both of your needs. You gasp, trembling, when he starts to stroke them together. A fiery warmth coats your scales. Stars spiral across your eyes.

You sputter, “Ha—- Hah…!” and your mate quickens the pace. Against your own, his cock is slick, the head tapered into an odd shape. As they grind together clumsily, your body convulses, cock drooling and twitching as the skin retracts. The head curves into a taper, your balls tug back against your body, and the scaly skin at the base of your shaft parts into a slit to house your new member. Mind awash with lust, you sniff the air, and your mate’s scent burns through your nostrils. That cloying, addicting scent. It mixes with your own. Your heart pumps erratically. Your cock gives an excited twitch, beads of pre trickling down the pink flesh.

“Ha… Hak…a…” you groan, beak wrinkled. Tremors run across your entire body, your scales clacking in time with your mate’s own. Pressure bubbles in the pit of your stomach, then surges upwards. With a hiss, you come liberally across your front, spilling the last of your human essence. It dribbles down your scales, mixing with your mate’s, splashing into the rock beneath your intertwined bodies. Your mate relieves himself in tandem, and your cries resonate throughout the cavern in a chorus of delight, shaking the walls. The noise pumps into your ears, ringing around your mind, picking away at your lingering humanity.

He looks at you, delighted at the sight of your still glazed eyes, and nestles his snout against your own. But not before reaching up, pecking the hat from your head and tossing it carelessly aside. It flops to the ground in a heap, and you give it a curious glance, your mind turning oh, oh so slowly. Did that… belong to you?

You frown. “Ha… ka…?”

Your mate chirps, licks your face, and you lick his back, settling down beneath the warmth of his body, the hat forgotten entirely. That comfortable haze washes the confusing, human thoughts from your mind, sealing your fate. Your mate regards you triumphantly, though you can hardly imagine why, and pulls you to the ground in a heap, arms held tight around your middle.

“You did good,” he says simply, eyes twinkling, tangling his tail in your own. “Ready for more?”

His claws graze down your back, teasing your hole, making his meaning clear. Mind sinking back into that swamp of lust, you chitter eagerly in response, forgetting everything else.

“Yes!”