Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Jenna ❯ Jenna Chpt 1-4 ( Chapter 1 )

      Disclaimer:

      Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.

      "Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

      C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: kelvins.choice@comcast.net or kelvins.choice@att.net
Jenna

      Jenna didn't raise her eyes as the lights came on in the room. At any other ranch on such a day, there would be chattering and preening, and all the subtle one-ups-manship that came with a Pokégirl trying to impress a potential owner/Tamer with her superiority over her sisters, cousins and others of the ranch. Here Jenna and the others remembered their training, and simply stood. The only remnant of the preening instinct was to smooth down the cheap, nearly transparent shifts each wore. All of them knew the penalty for acting out.

      They were unusually silent and demure for a group of Succubi as the ranch owner, and a potential client entered the richly appointed show room.

      "As you can see," the salesman told him, "None of the - unfortunate tendencies normal to that breed. You won't find a more beautiful or agreeable girl anywhere else."

      "What about their libido?" the customer asked as he distractedly touched the earpiece of his phone, "They're of no use if they're frigid."

      "Once she understands you're her Master, she'll do anything for you. We don't destroy her spirit, we merely remove the unfortunate tendency towards rebellion and challenge. They learn their place, and that place is to be loved for serving loyally and completely. We don't destroy their spirit or intelligence, such total devotion requires large quantities of both. We've all heard about those Poké-mills that use surgery and drugs to achieve - to claim to achieve what we do here. Behavior modification is our science, not just an art." The salesman noticed he'd been staring at the brunette. Busty, like all Succubi, she was not the best endowed of the six examples, and her hair color was also the most normal, but she'd been stealing glances at him through her bangs, indicating she had some spirit or at least some fragment of hope still left.

      "Ah, a good eye. This one was particularly difficult. She'd actually killed her previous Tamer in a rage," the richly dressed salesman explained, "Don't be embarrassed sir, that pristine innocence, and doe-like, ready-to-flee expression. They tug at your heartstrings. No man could resist it, sir. That's the greatest part of their attraction, and Jenna here was particularly blessed by her rather unsophisticated good looks. She'll always seem like that first innocent girl you had, uncertain and a little scared, and oh so ready to prove she loves you."

      He saw her look down and clutch at the shift that enhanced her beauty and vulnerability more than mere nakedness would have.

      "She showed no guilt or shame at having done murder. But you know it's wrong now, don't you Jenna?"

      "Yes, milord," she said softly as she bowed her head, shedding tears at the memory, how it had been ruthlessly used against her, and her humiliation.

      "You allow them to speak?" He seemed amazed.

      "Of course, just not to interrupt. How can she serve properly if she can't speak?" the salesman said as if the idea was an intended jest by his customer. "How can she flatter you and ask you what you want, if she can't speak? Very droll, sir, very droll. I heard one mill actually cuts out their tongues, as if speaking was all her tongue could be used for."

      Jenna's cheeks burned at that comment. As if you haven't drilled us on how to say thing, what to say, and other things to do with our tongues! she thought, but reminded herself, No show of anger, or there will be punishment. She felt goosepimples cover her whole body at the reminder of punishment.

      "How did she escape the authorities, if she killed her master? The SLIS would have executed her."

      "We've been trying to get that wasteful practice overturned, at least for this breed. Besides, her crimes were not committed in this League. So only foreign law enforcement would be interested, and they are far more - understanding - than our local gendarmes. As you can see, once we've trained out their unfortunate tendencies, they are the finest, most-loyal and affectionate slaves you could hope for. She's one of a few that our more understanding contacts have slipped to us. Most are Ferals, which give somewhat disappointing. It takes so much longer to train them in the finer things, if we first have to train them to be civilized at all. That limits our supply. Even we would not desire to stir up the controversy that would rise by using our techniques on Domestic-born or long-term captured girls. In her case, the personality that caused so much trouble is excised, so the murderess was killed, in a manner of speaking." He leaned close to the customer. "Believe me, she is as ashamed and guilty about it as a Megami would be. It adds to her gratitude at taking her away from any reminders."

      "So she can still fight?" he asked, amazed.

      "Oh, we include a full suite of combat training with T2s and hands-on. The hands-on is a reward for swift progress. And not the tournament stuff, but some of the most lethal hand-to-hand you can imagine. As well as bodyguard training. The loyalty to her Master makes her the perfect bed-slave and bodyguard. And not just for you, but your entire family. We had one of ours sacrifice herself to get her Master's children out of a burning building. Very touching, we were so proud." The salesman dabbed at his eyes.

      "What about discipline and punishment?" he asked.

      For the first time, the salesman looked disturbed. "We really don't encourage that sort of thing. It sends all the wrong signals."

      "I meant the girls," the man insisted.

      "Oh, I'm so sorry for having offended, sir. Certain of our more discrete customers have very exotic and exacting tastes. Any of our girls can meet them of course, and with our special training programs, the level of expertise can be astounding. As for the girls. Beyond a healthy discipline, there's hardly a need. She desperately wants to please. Your displeasure is all the scourge you'll ever need. Now if it's only play, you'll have to explain it to her. But they're very bright, they'll always get it the second or third time."

      "How is this all possible?" the customer asked, "It has to be very difficult and time consuming."

      "Actually the methods are remarkably simple they tell me. Would you like to see the process for yourself?" he asked, then leaned close, "I can't give away our deep secrets, because I don't know them. The processes are so technical."

      "Yes, I'd like to see them very much."

      The salesman ushered the customer to the door. Once they were outside, the lights went off, the signal they could all sit down. With any other group of Pokégirls, there would be angry glances at the likely candidate from the girls who were likely to be left behind. Here, however, the girls placed their hands in their laps and stared at them.

      Jenna wanted to plunge her hands between her legs and deep inside herself. She had smelled him so close, a Master, a powerful man who was interested in her. I smelled it, she thought, Me, not the others. She kept her hands on her lap while a desperate burning need ate at any thought of rebellion or defiances. My trainers told me what would happen if I pleasured myself when a customer was here, she reminded herself savagely as she clenched and unclenched her fists and thighs, Or if I cried. The memory of her `training` gave her a powerful reason to avoid anything that might prevent her from leaving this place, or that might displease her current or future master.

      My training officer made us all read as many slave narratives as we could, before we were allowed to support operations in the field, the customer reminded himself, It was clear as we read, that the cruelty of slavery didn't hurt the slaves as much as the condescension of it. It was something I shall never forget, especially when dealing with such men as this one.

      "Succubi have bodies made of solid ether, and are vulnerable to sonic attacks," the salesman told him as they watched a Succubus on her hands and knees taking it up the ass from a well-endowed young man. Her thrusts backward onto his cock came faster and more frantic as they watched. Tears of frustration streamed down the creature's face as she feverishly fucked.

      "A specific sound is introduced into the chamber. Too high for her or a human to hear, but you can see the effect."

      The man might be talking about washing his hands after going to the bathroom for all the care he's showing, the customer thought. "Actually," the customer said, "I can't."

      "Oh, sorry. That's the forty-fifth Taming she's gotten today, some in her gash, some up the other hole. If she were a normal Pokégirl, she would have fucked herself raw by now, but the Succubi naturally is slightly slippery, so her lack of lubrication hurts her more than the men who've been cycling in there since this morning. It's the lack of feeling that's the key."

      "She doesn't feel anything?" the customer asked as he tried to sound only vaguely interested instead of horrified.

      "She does feel the slap of her buttocks on his stomach, and her thighs against his, but that's about it. You could take crushed peppers hot enough to raise blisters, and smear them in there, and she wouldn't notice a bit."

      "Amazing," he said with unfeigned interest. The quick triple click from his headset told him the CyberNymph had locked out the delete command for their network. The computers might crash, but the data would be preserved. Soon, he thought as he walked along to the next station with the man.

      "Everyone knows that the perfect cure for Ferality is the removal of the ovaries and associated glands. While they'd never go fully Feral, their ability to mimic human behaviors and intelligence markedly decreases. As long as they don't naturally regenerate, that would be fine for arena-combat types, but a bed-slave or bodyguard needs her mind clear and to retain an understanding of pleasure, to operate effectively. So other avenues of alteration must be explored. I mean they're hardly of the right mental state straight out of most ranches, and out of the wild?" the salesman chuckled at his own joke, "Maybe for a young stud who enjoys fighting his sex slave, but for men - and women - of more refined tastes and decorum, other methods have always been sought. There has been work on other breeds using anesthetics and hormone suppressants. Their work shows such promise, it's sad that small-minded people have gotten funding cut and even the mention of the research removed from the greater community." He shook his head sadly at the ignorance of commoners. "But the Succubus has always resisted such things, until our process. The major difficulty for the men doing the training, is not give in to the Succubus's blandishments. Especially not to let her go oral. Anal is still covered and just as numb as vaginal. It's a truly amazing leap forward in training methods. The other reason for the men to hold it in, is we prevent the Succubi from feeding on the energy of release, which they truly crave. Instead their energy comes from a clock-watcher who wonders when they can go and reward one of the advanced students. It's like getting a slap in the face with their `meal`. The breed focuses so much of their identity on the belief that they are infinitely desirable and sexually unconquerable, and now they have proof in their own hearts that they've become sexually boring. Nothing undermines the certainty of their superiority as fast as that."

      I can see why, he thought, I guess you can't take any `animal` looking down on you like that. "Isn't Ferality a major problem?" the customer asked.

      "Heavens no." The salesman chuckled. "While a Succubus will beg, and whine, and plead after as few as three days, the actual onset of Ferality doesn't happen in even the most depraved subjects until ten. Even then, the real symptoms don't appear until the twelfth day. We typically let the symptoms become acute, but not detrimental to training, before we ball them. And I can assure you, the ball is the key to keeping making and keeping them docile."

      Here it comes, he couldn't keep his interest from showing, This is it, the illegal mod we were warned about.

      The salesman picked up an unusual-looking Pokeball. "This is the heart of the treatment, and one you'll be given when you make your purchase. It looks ordinary doesn't it." The solid powder-blue, tennis-ball-sized sphere looked more like a toy Pokeball than a real ball. Only the clamshell design and capture light mimicked the usually two-toned, softball-sized Pokeballs. "Pokeballs work by conditioning. Good thoughts are rewarded, bad thoughts are punished. Newer balls have a setting that allows level one or level two taming functions. These have a third setting, one that is used exclusively in training cycles we use. We call it a zero-level, not because it is weaker than the level-one, but because the Pokégirl inside is completely alone."

      He nodded, adjusting his earpiece and sending the signal to move in while the man continued.

      "Most girls report seeing themselves in their balls, they are aware of their own bodies and the ball's reaction to their defiance or submission. On the level-zero setting, they are completely alone. Not even the sense of their own body accompanies them."

      "Sensory deprivation? Isn't that illegal?" he asked with grave concern.

      "Only if the girl is outside her ball, because she might injure herself or others finding some stimulation. In this ball, there is no such danger. Coupled with the Pokégirls' intensely social nature, and the message sent is overwhelmingly clear, 'You are completely alone, free to defy, scream, yell or plead, no one will hear you or care, not even yourself.' With as sensual a breed as the Succubi, it usually doesn't take more than a few cycles to make the girls fear and respect the power of a zero-level. Merely displaying the ball and the specter of complete isolation and aloneness will bring them to heel."

      "Fascinating." The danger is, it is fascinating, and just barely the wrong side of legal, he thought, A few changes and it might be standard, but not yet! "It will also deliver a standard level-one or level-two?"

      "Of course, but we strongly advise you get a standard ball for that. Weakening the link between the sight and the incipient feelings of helplessness and hopelessness might make disciplining them more necessary, rather than less. Most owners just put these balls on a shelf, or a few have the girls wear it around their neck like a bell. As I said, it's remarkably effective."

      "Truly amazing. I hate to be crass but -"

      "Oh no need for false airs here, sir. We provide a superb service and we charge for it. Most are so taken by the girl they want they do want to come to an accommodation, so they can come to a consummation. The standard price is 800 thousand."

      "Eight hundred thousands?" the customer gasped. I should arrest him for that! the customer thought, Who in their right mind would pay it? We'll find out. I want a crack at them.

      "Amazed it's so high?"

      "So low. What you promise is nothing less than a cross of a Succubus and a Megami, with both breeds less pleasant tendencies removed."

      "Yes, the prudery of Megami is well known, as well as their arrogance. It's more subtle than the Succubi's, but just as strong. I don't have much hope that researchers will be able to work the magic we've accomplished here, on that breed, but I do hope our efforts advance the science." The sound of raised voices drew the man's attention.

      "I've seen all I came for, and I thank you for the tour and explanation," the customer said as he drew what appeared to be a wallet. Ah, the promise of money always keeps their attention, he thought as he flipped the wallet open, revealing the badge within. "Kevin Thomas, SLIS Special Investigator. You are bound by law to stand for crimes against the League. If you cannot afford one, an advocate will be made available to you. Everything you say will be taken down in evidence against you, including your silence. Do you understand what I've told you."

      "I want my advocate," the man said as he stood gasping like a beached Leviathan.

      He doesn't know if I'm the kind who shakes down crooks, or the more honest officer, Kevin thought as he put away his badge and watched as the uniformed officers arrived. Most were locals, or Stockton Legionnaires. But for this, they'll put away their usual disdain for the SLIS.

      "Take him away, he's asked for an advocate," Kevin told them as he walked back through the doors to the waiting room. Most of the Succubi were in tears. Odd, seeing that breed being comforted, he thought as one girl stood apart from all the activity, looking alone and lost in the surging tide of humanity.

      "She won't let anyone else touch her, or take her statement," a local Officer Jenny told him, her expression guardedly neutral.

      She was told by her bosses to keep her nose away from this place. Now she sees it's worse than her nightmares, he thought of the experienced police officer, More than you expected isn't it?

      "Was there something else, officer?" he asked, trying not to sound too superior, the Pokégirl was already wrestling with a huge problem.

      "I hate myself for doing this," she explained as she thrust a hardcopy into his hands.

      " 'Transfer of Custody', this is for interdepartmental transfers of evidence," he told her once he'd scanned it.

      "And evidence is what she is right now. Isn't that right? Legally?" the Jenny practically spat at him.

      Careful Officer, he thought, They are people treated as property. That doesn't make them property. Except if she killed her Tamer and slipped through the system, then she doesn't even exist, legally. Like a recently-captured, unregistered Feral.

      "Being in the lockup won't help her. The healers have all thrown up their hands, you can't rebuild what's been taken from them. Maybe you can help her. Unless this was all a game to you."

      "Yes, cleaning up your boss's sideline is just a joke to me, Officer," he told the Jenny harshly enough to make her flinch, "Don't presume to lecture me on Parity, Property or D-BENS. I uphold the law. You want to confess your sins, see a Megami or an Angel." He walked away from her and towards his superior, a long service Colonel in the SLIS.

      "That customer list is to be kept under lock and key. I'll skin anyone I even think leaked it," the gruff man told his hacker team.

      Was I ever that young? Kevin thought as he looked at the teens and twenties of the hacker team, and their equally youthful Pokégirls, Not for a long time.

      "Glad you didn't wrinkle the suit, it needs to go back to the bureau. I don't need to tell you that you to talk to no one outside this room about this little sting."

      "That bad?" Kevin asked the man who was even older than he was.

      "Oh yes. I hate the idea of informing the Planetary League Council, but the DPA and DSA will have to expand the scope of the investigation beyond our shores. SLIS may be able to operate in other Leagues, but not with the horsepower these people will have to defend themselves." He stared at Kevin and the words passed without anything being said.

      The Wraiths, he realized, The Shadow League's darkest of dark ops. Terrific.

      "You didn't come over to hear my bellyaching. You came over to pour more acid on my ulcer," the man said while glowering.

      Kevin showed him the form and looked over his shoulder at the girl, who clasped her hands in prayer and looked back with such hopefulness.

      "Nice, but what does this have to do with me?" the colonel asked, "At the end of an assignment, you turn in your special-issue gear and make a list of whatever gifts or other things that greased the skids. She and the others aren't evidence. None of them could ever stand up in court. These elegant peoples' lawyer could have an ordinary, blue tennis ball on his attache case, and everyone of them would fold like a fresh tortilla. Just put her on your report tomorrow."

      "Doesn't it bother you, treating them like they're pieces of meat?" Kevin asked.

      "The last thing that bothered me was Mao's Insurrection, and why it doesn't happen on a weekly basis. I've never figured out why they put up with us, I just thank God they don't all wake up smarter one morning and decide to have it out once and for all. They'd lose 90% and be free once and for all, and we'd all be gone."

      Kevin nodded and walked over to Jenna. The girl looked as beautiful as she had before, her wan and fearful smile tugged at his heart. She didn't rush over and throw herself into his arms. Her training prevents those kinds of `embarrassing` displays, he thought, I guess I'm too old to enjoy getting jumped, no matter how pretty the Pokégirl is. Sure sign I'm getting old.

      I almost wish they had a legal way to do what they did, he thought, To take the edge off the most aggressive types. Hell, I wish they could do that with some humans. There are always a few twits in the office who could use some manners and discretion. He let her take his hands. Her smile remained hopeful and nervous. If I pulled my hand loose and turned around right now, he realized, I'd shatter her spirit forever. But I can't do that, not even to a Succubus, not even to her.

      "You don't recognize me, do you?" he asked quietly.

      Her expression became one of abject fear as she shook her head. She knew she'd failed in some horrible and offensive way.

      "Don't worry about it," he assured her, "I have to go back to the office, and you're coming with me."

      "I'm evidence," she said without hope, "I understand."

      I'll let her learn, he thought, Maybe that will help.

      "Major, I like the coat," the janitor teased him as the man emptied the garbage can and ran the carpet sweeper around the office.

      Kevin ignored the jibe and left Jenna sleeping where she draped herself and her wings over him like a cloak. He'd enjoyed the feeling when she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his chest. He had been ignoring the marvelous curves pressed onto his back for the past several hours. "I think you can get one of your own."

      The old man smiled. "I don't think I'm spry enough for a Pokégirl anymore, maybe a Pokéwoman, but not a girl."

      "I'm not sure how I'll handle it either," Kevin replied as the man smiled and turned away. He's right, my youngest is older than she is. Emma would have loved having another daughter in the house, he sighed and tried to bury the pain that remembering Emma always brought up.

      I also don't know how I'm going to deal with this, he thought of his long-completed report, and the data he'd called up on Jenna and her deceased but unlamented Tamer. 'Famous Silver River League Wreckball players kills local boy'. Idiots in the media can't use the language properly, and they conveniently forgot to mention that the players' coach/Tamer was drugged to stupidity, after a truly humiliating loss, and his murder weapon was the four, most drugged out of man's six Pokégirls. The other two tried to stop the four attackers and their Master's attack on the loud-mouthed kid, unsuccessfully.

      He remembered the Shadow League forces that had been tasked with bringing justice to a man almost too popular to be arrested by regular police back in the Silver River League. They caught him less than an hour before my SLIS `sanction` group would have caught him, he thought, Not soon enough. One girl was a Penance, and the Succubus killed him in reply. He closed the file and shut off the screen. He leaned back, feeling the opulent curves pressing back on him as the sleeping Jenna snuggled against him and tightened her grip. The pleased, little noises she made were highly erotic. She wasn't so accommodating, or tolerant before, he remembered the arrogant Succubus who'd required a crew-served stunner to bring down. While the actual cause of death was the blows from his Pokégirl, everyone in the media `knew` that was to cover-up he's overdosed himself. The Wraiths probably injected him with enough of his pharmacopia to kill a Widow, then let the autopsy reveal what it would. So they got days of mourning, instead of riots in the streets and a League-wide anti-Succubus massacre. The pack of lies we wove, all to deify some low-bred slimeball, who's only real talent was kicking a ball straight. All to protect the truly innocent from the truly stupid.

      The man who entered his office was nondescript: average height, average build, complexion of a tanned Caucasian/light-skinned Black/weathered Hispanic. His features could not have been more average by design, a true everyman.

      "Captain Chevallie," Kevin gestured to the other comfortable chair in the office, "I hadn't expected to see you." At least until the wetwork was needed, Kevin remembered that this nondescript man had a talent for slipping into guarded strongholds, And when he slipped back out, numerous key people within were no longer among the living.

      "My superiors in the Blue League decided a change of scenery would improve my health outlook." The man's accent was neither pure Blue League, nor anything else you could pin down.

      So the rumors are true, you took down those mage officials up north, and they couldn't get you out of the country fast enough, Kevin thought, but said, "If there's anything we can do to make you stay more relaxing, just let us know." Considering what I and the SLIS owe you, dropping a few bounty hunters off the face of the Earth would be a small price to pay.

      "Actually, I was bored, extremely so," Chevallie said, "Then I remembered your marvelous tales, and I thought I'd look you up."

      "Can't have an honored guest in our League bored, you'll go home and tell all your friends, and tourism is very important to us." He caught Chevallie's questioning look at Jenna, and merely nodded.

      That's the first time I've ever seen anything surprise that man, Kevin thought as he pulled the file folder he'd prepared for this meeting. "A few of my more amusing cases."

      The Captain slipped the bookmark into his pocket, and skimmed the reports on the graffiti gang who'd been painting rather detailed murals over the doors of several kindergartens and religious houses. "Not the most original rascals. How did you find them?"

      "They needed an artist for the painting, and a medical student for the surprisingly accurate anatomy. The local college was the obvious starting place, then we realized it had to be some drop outs."

      "Ingenious," the Captain said as he stood, "I can see you are quite busy. I'll stop by later when we can talk. I suspect she's going to need some attention soon."

      "Yes," Kevin replied. That's been kind of worrying me.

      "Words of wisdom," the Captain said, "Let her initiate, after you've made it clear she's allowed to ask. That seems the quickest way."

      "Thank you," he replied as the man left. So you have encountered this before, he thought, How far does it extend into other Leagues?

      Jenna had reluctantly abandoned her posture of draping herself over her Master. I know they can't find me and punish me, she thought as she walked alongside him, But he could, and he hasn't taken any of my hints. The station has private Taming rooms, but we never went near there. Maybe he just felt sorry for the broken thing. Maybe he doesn't like my breed, or Infernals in general, many don't. Maybe he just doesn't like me. So he only took me until he can transfer me to someone else. He told me to speak my mind, maybe he's looking for an excuse to get rid of me. She let such dark thoughts consume her on the walk to where ever they were going.

      A small group of Pokégirls jumped out of an alley and all hissed at him, making a 'Slissss' sound. In response, he stomped his foot and shouted at them, 'There's more than one way to skin a catgirl!' The teenagers ran off, shrieking and laughing. It seems like play, she thought as she looked at his pensive expression, But is it, or is he too tired to pursue. A pack like that in the wild, would be the basis of a good harem. Are they the neighbor's children, or a pack of abandoned strays?

      The house was modest, although well-kept up. A graying Venuswhore slept in the front yard behind the short bushes.

      "Contractor," he told her, "She comes in once a week to look after the plants and lawn."

      She only nodded as he unlocked the door and walked in, leaving the door open for her to follow, or to bolt. He said I should feel free to express my needs, she thought as she looked up at the sky filled with threatening clouds, If I stay out here, those clouds will be rain that might make me sick, if I go in, it will only be a soothing sound on the roof. She stepped inside, carefully closing and locking the door behind her.

      The living room, dining room and kitchen seemed to flow one into another. The breakfast bar was the only division, and it had tall stools to let you watch what was going on in the kitchen, and two large archways offering entrance. He hung up his coat in a closet, but left her with hers. For which she was grateful.

      I still wish I didn't feel so naked, she thought of her slacks, shirt and jacket, All SLIS issue, but they fit me well enough. Her thoughts stopped as she saw the huge electronic picture frame. Various photos slowly cycled through. She'd caught what must have been near the beginning of the sequence. Her new Master as a young man, having a snowball fight with a beautiful Coyotits. That image faded into one with the Coytits leaning on her Master's shoulder, as Jeena had. The two of them showing matching rings to the camera.

      I know Pokégirl 'marriages' aren't really binding, but they had the rings of a traditional ceremony, she thought as she watched the changing images with fascination. The Coyotits' distended belly seemed on the verge of exploding. The fur was thinned out and there were angry red stretch marks in the flesh, but instead of fear, the Coyotits' expression was one of pride. I remember them doing that to one of the others, Jenna thought with a shiver, Pumping air into her until her belly protruded like that, and all of us forced to watch. The poor girl screaming the whole time in pain and terror that she'd burst like a balloon. Once they pulled the plug and the air rushed out of her, she was never defiant again, and the rest of us got an explanation that a Succubi's body could easily take many times that much punishment, before bursting.

      The dark memory was replaced at the sight of the Coyotits in a hospital bed, and her Master right beside her. The two adults grinning about the three newborns. Two clearly human, the third clearly a Coyotits. There followed a number of baby pictures of the triplets. In one of the last ones, the Coyotits was clearly pregnant again, although not so swollen as the first time. Another of mother and child, with father and siblings around the bed. The baby was a human, as were one boy and one girl, yet the young Coyotits Pokékit seemed as accepted as the human children. The photos continued to change. Three more pregnancies, one ending with no pictures of those children appearing. Vacations, graduations, new houses, the eight children growing up, and the two parents growing older. Then there were seven children, the eldest boy was gone, and the march of life went on. The eldest girls graduating high school, and one went into the Navy, the other into college. Then the others followed. As they had slowly appeared, they slowly dribbled away. Pictures of the new families that formed, the first grandchildren, then the family assembled in somber clothes. Her Master with bowed head, the children and grandchildren in somber clothes and expressions, of the Master's Coyotits Pokéwife, there was no sign. More pictures of grandchildren growing up. Jarringly, the picture returned to the Coyotits and her Master as a young man, both in University studying, arguing, then the snowball fight.

      She hadn't heard her Master approach, but he held a bottle of soda in front of her. "You're probably thirsty."

      "Your wife, and family?" she asked carefully.

      "Emma died three years ago. She had a good long life, forty-eight years, thirty-four of them with me. I'd like to think they were good years for her too."

      "The boy, your eldest?" she asked. How far do I go? she wondered.

      "Traffic accident. The car he was riding in got hit by a drunk driver. He and three friends were killed. The friend's mother, who was driving, lingered for a few hours. The driver survived, unhurt, and should be getting out of prison in a few years. It would have been a few months, if he hadn't fled the scene. I think you can guess, there was a lot of help looking into this."

      Does he remind himself of his family this way for a reason? she wondered. "Are you close?"

      "With some, more distant with others. Janine, my eldest who takes after her mother, wanted to join the SLIS, I argued her into a Navy commission instead. So to spite me, she became an SP, Shore Patrol, Navy police officer. She never understood it was the SLIS I didn't want her part of, not law enforcement."

      Jenna nodded, not sure what else to do.

      "The rest have their own lives, their own families they are devoted to, so we get together on some holidays."

      But you want more, Jenna thought, Those taunting Pokégirls, you know you could run one or two down and catch them, or could you legally? You have the income to go to a ranch and buy a girl, even a Pokewoman, but you haven't. Why?

      "I don't know if you want your own room, but there are several bedrooms which aren't occupied."

      "What about your room?" she asked.

      "Like I said, if you wanted your own room, one was available. I don't want you to feel pressured to perform."

      "You loved her, didn't you?" Jenna asked, "Now you feel you're cheating on her, by having me."

      "She probably would have loved having you here," he said, "A young woman to look after."

      He sidestepped my question, she thought as she stepped towards him. Not offending him was a massive weight on her thoughts. I don't think I can easily offend him, but I still don't want to risk trying. I can feel what he still feels for his Pokéwife, the mother of his children. He might believe that she wouldn't mind having me, but he doesn't know. He can't be certain.

      "Master, I - "

      "Please call me Kevin. I wasn't Emma's 'Master', I don't wish to be your's."

      "Kevin then," she said carefully, close enough to touch him, which she didn't, "I - I'm hungry," she managed. I hope he realizes what I mean, she thought as she watched him closely. She worried as he bowed his head.

      "You need . . . ?" he asked quietly.

      "Yes," she said gently, "Just being near you isn't enough, I need, I think you know."

      "Yes," he whispered. While she knew it wasn't meant as an insult, the idea than any man didn't lust after her instantly and completely, hurt, a lot.

      When he didn't lead her to a room, or even move she took his hand. "Perhaps one of the other rooms, rather than our bedroom?" she offered. Then at least you won't be cheating on your wife in the bed you shared, she thought, and was glad when he led her to one of the other rooms.
SLIS

      The Sunshine League Internal Security a.k.a. SLS, SIS and 'Sliss', in popular fiction is either worse than the KGB, or the Keystone Cops, depending on the author's intent. Historically the agencies that became the SLIS had taken over the function of the State Police, National Guard and Air National Guard, as well as many of the functions of the Federal Agencies such as the FBI, Secret Service, and the CIA. The NSA (signals security and codebreaking) remain firmly in the hands of ONI (the Office of Naval Intelligence). SLIS has a well-deserved reputation for corruption and ruthlessness. However, the average agent is well skilled and less likely to be part of the cadre who have so tainted the agency's reputation. Most of the `Special` groups take care of the shakedowns of criminals, rather than arresting them. This makes the SLIS less than popular with the Stockton Legion or the Navy. Most Officer Jennies despise the agents for their condescending attitudes towards Pokégirls (even the few Pokégirl SLIS agents have this trait) and their heavy-handed treatment of suspects and investigations. They are definitely the '800 pound gorilla' when they are investigating.

      Their saving grace is that they get results. They were instrumental in keeping Mao's movement off the Golden Continent. They also have been able to keep 'The Goths Who must Not be Named' from establishing a permanent presence anywhere in the Sunshine League, they have killed a number of their agents, sympathizers and one or two of them. The S-Goths firmly believe that an SLIS agent would shoot one of them before he/she/it would shoot a Widow. While an exaggeration, the SLIS has never even attempted to take a suspected S-Goth alive. To their credit, they investigate crimes committed against Pokégirls/women homeowners and business owners with the same diligence and thoroughness they show when working on crimes against humans. They also have equal complaints made about them by both humans and Pokégirls.

      Their major divisions are Fraud (which includes wire fraud), Kidnaping/Pokégirl Theft, Smuggling, Violent Crimes (which include the arrest of many Team Rocket types). They also have the smaller divisions of Treason, Pokégirl Crimes (crimes by Pokégirls and against Pokégirls), InterLeague Crime and Special Crimes. The Special Crimes division is the one who truly participates in the most shakedowns of criminals.

      Well feared and respected in other Leagues, the SLIS seems to be following the mandate of the Five Families and the Sages, to keep the Sunshine League out of the machinations of the `big boys`, so they can step in and rebuild when the dust settles. To this end, they have been highly successful, foreign and domestic trouble makers are dealt with harshly, before they cause too much damage to the status quo. Reformers decry this, but many people state that while grassroots organizations have been monitored and harassed, as long as they remained nonviolent and above board, they were allowed to complete their work.

      The criminal element despise the SLIS, because:
1.) they never stay bought, even or especially the Specials;
2.) they love shaking down crime bosses;
3.) the are often as ruthless as the criminals they operate against.

      E.g., Mulligan's Maulers, a notorious street gang Limbec Pirates wannabes, were taken out, along with their wives and children, by an air strike, no survivors. That was the first and last time a group considered helping the Limbec Pirates on a long-term basis. They also pursued a team of agent provocateurs from Gendo Giovanni, and slaughtered them after they arrived `safe` in Indigo territory. They also broke up a gang, literally in some cases, that was exclusively targeting poorer Pokégirl businesses. Not the type of behavior to make reformers love them.

      Relations with the Stockton Legion and the Navy are tense and operations in the Womb Valley are handled a good deal more delicately, likewise the Magma Islands are neither welcoming, nor particularly cooperative. The University and the Navy handle most of SLIS's normal functions there, although the SLIS maintains an office in N.T. and officially cooperates fully with the Navy and the University, as do they with the SLIS. The posting to the liaison office is generally considered disciplinary, by all sides. Ironically, this works out rather well, as the `outcasts` gain a sense of camaraderie among themselves, and are eager to do well and get out.

      The SLIS also maintains uniformed officers who patrol the surviving Highway system, including 'The 5', offering assistance to travelers and enforcing safe use (enforcing speed limits, moving violations, etc.). This small group, which has good relations with the Stockton Legion and most of the local police forces along the highways, continues to petition to become a separate service, these efforts are largely ignored.

Jenna 2

      Jenna spotted what she really wanted, a room that wasn't strictly a bedroom. "There," she said quietly as she drew him after her. A small study with a medium-sized couch.

      He followed her in confusion. Then she leaned him against the well-padded arm of the couch. "You don't want to use your wife's or children's bedrooms," she said quietly as she loosened his belt, "But I need." She let his pants fall as she knelt on the arms of the couch, balancing with her wings. "Do you?" she asked.

      Training warred briefly with the impulse to piston up and down until she broke his spirit or his back. The impression of days of crawling need and hours of terrible loneliness broke the back of instinct, filled her with revulsion and forced her to pause.

      I know what I want, she told herself, I know what I need, and they are not the same. I need to feed, I need not to be cast out, I want dominance and dozens of orgasms. I will take what I need, and what I want is negotiable. She reached down, her wings holding her otherwise precarious balance, while her hands let her instincts and training meld. She stroked him from the shaft to the tip, as if urging a plant to grow. She let her hands do their work without interference as she leaned forward, letting him take her breast in his hands, take her nipple into his mouth

      She found herself getting more and more excited as she felt his arousal grow. Like a snake, slithering towards its prey, she thought, delighted that instinct and training finally agreed on something, I'll give it a nice warm home.

      She slid over him and moved up and down slowly, moving her hips to enhance the friction and feel his hardness against her clitoris, she moved up and down, feeling his hands roaming her body, tickling and teasing her skin, and bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. She held herself back, trying to feel as his throbbing gave her the signal. She pulled herself off him, ignoring his look of confusion as she dropped to her knees on the floor and took his hard, throbbing dick in her mouth and began to suck and lick until he nearly exploded.

      She drank in the cum as well as the excess energy from his orgasm, and nearly choked on both. Too much coffee, fast food and stress! she thought as she still swallowed both, licking her Master clean and swinging him around so they could settle and snuggle onto the couch.

      Her heart soared as he gathered her in, cuddling against her in the postcoital afterglow. She blanketed them both with her wings as she lay against him. Keep us both warm while he sleeps and I start digesting my first full meal in so long, she thought, He'll taste better when I can get him to relax, and maybe get him on a healthier diet. But I'm full, after so long. My Master fed me, my Master does love me, even if only a little.

      Jenna woke in her Master's arms. She looked down at him curled against her, and she smiled. A shy smile that would have pleased my trainers. I have to quit second-guessing myself, she thought angrily, I am who I am now. Just because I am not who I was, that doesn't mean I am not a person. My Master cares for me, even if he still loves his wife. I cannot, I will not compete with that. I'm his, I am loved, that should be enough.

      "You wriggle when you think," he told her, without moving or opening his eyes.

      The stab of fear at having displeased her Master nearly drove her to tears. Then she realized, He isn't going to punish me. He was just making a statement. "I was thinking about you." And me, she didn't add.

      "And us?" he asked while he smiled and looked into her eyes. He reached up and ran a knuckle across her jawline.

      She stifled an urge to grab that finger, put it in her mouth and show exactly what she wanted to do with her Master. He wants to snuggle, she thought as she drew closer to him, I can live with that.

      "I told you I knew you before. I didn't like who you were very much. I don't approve of what they did, and I do care for you. I'm not afraid you'll tear my throat open and spit down my neck."

      She searched for something to say, and could find nothing. Her Master pulled her close to him. Letting his warmth and body tell her that she was his, and wanted. They lay that way for a long while. She didn't move, as she thought he'd fallen back asleep.

      Suddenly, he sat up, tumbling both of them off the sofa. She caught him before he cracked his head on the floor. She braced herself for his reaction. "I forgot, there's a briefing at 1000 hours. We've got -" he looked around for a clock. "Half an hour to get there!"

      She watched him dash out of the room. She frowned. "I have needs," she complained quietly.

      "If you want to stay here," he said as he stuck his head back in the room, "You'll have to go too. There's a bathroom across the hall, and some clothes that shouldn't be too tight in the closet." With that he was gone, leaving her in a tizzy thinking about losing her Master. Calm! Calm. Calm, you have orders, she used her training against the fear it generated. She headed towards the shower.

      They walked towards the police headquarters. Jenna limited herself to holding her Master's hand. I'd rather wrap my naked body around his and fly us to the building's roof, she thought hungrily, Engage in a quick Taming, and still be in time for the meeting.

      "Captain, odd to see you here," her Master said to the small nondescript man who approached them.

      "There was an attempt to electronically raid the data store," the man said quietly, "At our end, not yours."

      "We've got better - " The explosion threw all three of them to the ground.

      Jenna was in her Master's arms, her wings surrounding them both to take the blows from the debris that rained down on them, and her arms forcing his head into her bosom to further protect him. While he squirmed, she refused to release him until the large pieces quit falling. I know what's coming next, she thought as she looked at the man her Master had called 'Captain.' He was flat on the ground, a tiny Pokègirl standing protectively beside him. The SexyCute wiggled her hips at Jenna and patted her Tamer's head. Mouthing the words 'later' as she pointed to herself and Jenna, then looked at her Master and shrugged.

      Yeah, I know the feeling. A loving Master, but sometimes you just want mountains of sex, she thought as she nodded and released her Master, who caught the pair looking at each other.

      "Okay, I get the message," her Master said with a smile, "I think we can see our way clear to leaving you two alone for an hour."

      "Agreed," the Captain said.

      "An hour!!" the tiny girl returned to her normal size and screeched at her Tamer.

      "One of you will be unconscious at the end of an hour," her Master said, then whispered to Jenna, "Remember, your hands and tongue won't bring you to orgasm. If she shrinks, use your pinkie." He looked at her pinkie closely. "Trim the nail and file it smooth first, and let her see you do it."

      Jenna stared at her Master open-mouthed.

      He stared back at her. "I'm old, I'm not dead. We had a bunch of kids, none of them due to parthenogenesis. You haven't had any complaints on quality, just quantity."

      "OH, what good advice Master!" the SexyCute squealed, "It's been so long since I've heard a Succubus whimper for mercy!"

      Jenna felt her lip curling and her instincts to beat a sexual opponent rising. The instant she turned those thoughts towards her Master, she felt her stomach clench. Okay, I can't do that to him, but someone else's Pokègirl is fair game, she thought as they headed to help the rescue efforts.

      The Chief was standing outside the building. The dust covering his uniform and hair, and his angry but stoic demeanor made it look as if he'd been standing in middle of th blast, immune, and it had offended him in some way. The small piece of metal in his hands told the story.

      "Bombshell," her Master whispered to her. Jenna nodded as she remembered the exploding Pokègirl.

      "Sonica!" Jenna shouted about the Pokègirl racing towards them all. She braced herself and readied to battle the fast-moving girl. A tiny weight landed on her shoulder.

      "Rewards later," it whispered and was gone. The SexyCute simply appearing, full-sized, in front of the Sonica threw the fast-moving girl for a loop, more so when she crashed into the full-height, full-weight Pokègirl. Jenna rushed forward and drained the energy from the stunned girl, while snatching the equally stunned SexyCute out of possible harm's way.

      The Captain recovered his bruised and battered Pokègirl, who cried out 'Rematch!' before she vanished.

      "I'd better get these to a secure location," the Colonel said of the Bombshell's spine, and the Sonica who'd clearly been sent to retrieve it.

      "Let me guess," Jenna said, trying to learn how to think like her Master, "You're going to interrogate both of them, then offer to let them go. Knowing that they know the price of failure in their organization is death, or worse."

      "You catch on fast," the Colonel said with appreciation.

      "I was already the victim of it," Jenna said, and hastily amended, "Sir."

      "Don't 'sir' me, I work for a living," the Colonel growled, and Jenna recoiled at having given offense, until she saw the other men's expressions.

      "Yes, Sergeant Major!" she said and saluted.

      Jenna thought she saw a smile for an instant, before the Colonel was all business again. "I think you policemen ought to disappear for a while. Captain, I understand you're a fan of Tauromachy. There are a few places you might go to make inquiries. Kevin, a few days ago, we got a call from a Park Ranger way out in the boonies, about a Free whipping up a lot of Tamers to 'deal with' some mysterious Pokègirl menace in the local woods. Two missions, see what the menace is before the Tamers go charging in, second, scout out this ranger who called it in. She seems a lot more level-headed that the rest, and I'm going to need some more reliable people."

      "Let me guess," her Master said despondently, "Ranger Avellane Thomas?"

      The Colonel nodded.

      The similarity of names can't be an accident, Jenna thought sourly, I know I can't replace his wife, now I have to convince his daughter I'm not trying to. I should have let them just give me a level five and started over.

      "That's some good tailoring," Jenna said of the Coyotits in a very tight Park Ranger's uniform. But it's meant to look super tight and constricting, yet she has full ease of movement, she thought, and also admired the flowing golden hair and silvery fur. If her mother had been a Drowzee, she'd be a Golden Elf. She's got the curves for it, and the height.

      "That's my daughter you're drooling about," her Master said, the first threatening anger she'd ever heard from him directed at her.

      "Sorry, she's just so beautiful, graceful, and strong," she stammered her apology.

      "She is that," her Master said wistfully and smiled, "Like her mother, but hands off, no matter what she says."

      "Understood." Jenna nodded and smiled to show her subservience.

      "Welcome to the Vixxen Valley Salt Lake Park. I'm Ranger Avellane, and I'll be escorting you to the orientation and briefing with my superiors." The voice was as smooth as chocolate and warm honey. "And I don't swing that way," she added pointedly to Jenna.

      So we're being frank, Jenna thought, I can do that too. "I'm just a heavy weapon he checked out of the evidence lockers. I'm not trying to steal your mother's place, as if anyone could. I would have thought you'd know that."

      Jenna enjoyed the girl's beautiful frown, but knew she'd made her point.

      "Follow me." Ranger Avellane had replaced the petulant daughter, and led them to the covey of heavy stone buildings.

      "That looks like a small fortress." It is, dummy, Jenna told herself, This is the wilderness. Things attack you openly with claws and fangs, not with poisoned, honeyed words. "I assume you have her chipped. Why doesn't she have a - "

      "She has a husband instead," her Master told her, "And even you might lose an arm-wrestling match to him. I was cleaning my shotgun when he came to pick her up for a school prom, and we started talking about various rounds, and law-enforcement. Evidently, after we left, he told her that I was a scary guy, but he wasn't going to back down just because I pulled out the old shotgun gag. That he intended to move out here also helped my opinion of him. I think you can guess why I didn't want her in the SLIS."

      "I can hear you," Avellane told them.

      "I know dear, that's why I'm not whispering," he replied automatically, "So I'm rather proud of my little girl." He smirked as the Coyotits blushed, quite obviously, despite the fur. This seemed to break the tension between the two. Avellane dropped back and formed up line abreast, which to Jenna's chagrin, meant Avellane still was noticeably ahead of her.

      "So, dad, you hear anything from Marcia or Delores?" Avellane asked, then whispered to Jenna, "The twins."

      Jenna listened intently as they walked, filing away all the bits and scraps of family gossip. She's trying to keep it comprehensible to an outsider, but occasionally, they drop into the family patois. Some reference to an event or person nobody outside the family would understand, she thought, trying to nod or frown at the right moments in those interludes, Something more is going on here, something neither wants the world to know about, and little me is right in the middle of it. She found her instincts and training to protect her Master and his family rising like a tide. With a Master and family like this, that's one part of the training I don't mind, she thought as she glanced at her Master and smiled, He's right, who I was before was primarily interested in me, not my Master, who was violent, self-destructive, abusive scum; not my Harem sisters, who were worthless sycophants and drug-addicts . . . and not myself, who was only happy when I had something shoved up my cunt, my ass and in my mouth and all were pumping away. I'll never forgive those bastards for what they did for me, but I like what they came up with. The sadistic fucks!

      What walked out of the small fortress looked like an Ursine with a boob reduction.

      "Sweetie!" Avellane called as she waved and ran forward.

      "He's, big," Jenna said with a little fear.

      "I wouldn't know," her Master said, it took a moment for her to realized he was teasing her.

      "I didn't mean that!" Jenna said sharply, and realized she'd ignored the fear reaction that would have prevented anything except complete deference.

      "Maybe bringing you out here was helpful," her Master told her, then called out to the hugging couple, "Where are my - "

      The human tide of Coyotits, Growlies, humans, and a couple of other breeds stormed out of the building with varying cries of 'Grampa', 'Grampa Kevin', and similar.

      "Rig for collision," her Master barely warned her before the two were swarmed under.

      Jenna enjoyed the warm, squirming and often furry bodies pressing against her. She'd pick one, give it a hug and let the mass continue to flow around her. She forced herself not to react as they occasionally tugged her wings or snuggled her breasts. The thousand questions asked of her became a pleasant background hum of people fascinated by her.

      "You wanted to be the center of attention," her Master said as he and a Denmother, also in a Park Ranger's uniform, tried to assemble the pack in some kind of order.

      "Sorry Jenna-dear," the Denmother said as she worked, "The latest cartoons have a little D-Bens propaganda that a human who loses his only Pokègirl, eventually dies of loneliness. They've been rather concerned about Kevin since their gran' died."

      How did she know -? Oh, they probably discussed it, or the Colonel phoned ahead, she thought as the onslaught slackened as the kids sat in a circle surrounding her and her Master.

      Jenna was going to ask about her relationship with the parents, but saw the Denmother's expression had darkened, and the father was marching past as if going to war.

      "Sorry, professional smile," he said as he passed to intercept the arrogant, red-headed, armored Pokègirl, who could only be an Armsmistress, who was walking towards them as if she owned the place.

      "Trouble?" Jenna whispered and got a slight nod from the DenMother, who was rearranging the kids so the adults were between them and the Armsmistress. Avellane took up a position on the other side with her Master. None bothered to look over their shoulder. They were all too busy pointedly ignoring the Pokègirl.

      Jenna risked a quick glance. The ranger and the Armsmistress stood talking. The ranger refusing to let her past, any closer to the children.

      "We've gotten a bad feeling," Avellane said as she soothed one of the children who'd picked up the parents' nervousness, "About her and her offers to `train` the kids."

      Jenna took one whimpering ball of fluff into her lap, and combed her fingers through the child's fur. The child snuggled in and was soon joined by two others. Jenna did her best to attend to all three.

      "Let's go back inside," the husband/ranger said as he returned to the group, "I think she's going to go harangue the Tamers who have been lounging around here lately. Pretty soon, they'll have the numbers to slip past me and the other rangers."

      "What are they going after?" Jenna asked.

      "If we knew that, we could go get it ourselves, and put a damper on this once and for all," Avellane said.

      Jenna caught the deeply meaningful look between father and daughter, and held her tongue.

      "Tremble old man! And prepare to lose your Succubus!" the kid shouted, holding a Pokèball and standing under the sign that clearly read 'No Pokèbattles In The Vicinity! Violators Will Be Punished.' "For I am your worst nightmare!" He started laughing what he must have considered a maniacal way.

      "You mean you're the one where I'm pumping away on the girl and her tits are getting bigger and bigger and bigger, until she crushes them against her ribs, forcing all that air through my dick and into my balls and guts, making them balloon up like three beach balls. So while I'm screaming in agony, she slashes my bloated belly open and started ripping out the good stuff with her teeth."

      The nightmare had gone rather pale. "No, I'm -"

      "You're the one where Mephaesta flays off a couple of layers of skin off my dick and then brings in this Brass whose been soaking for hours in a hot brine pool. She tells me I can go if I can make the Brass orgasm, so as I'm pumping her, that abrasive salt grinding away at the flesh, the heat burning me and my blood making the dried salt go liquid?"

      The Pokèball dropped out of the kid's hand.

      "No, you're the one where I get wrapped in fish sausage and thrown into a pool of Sharptits kits. As they take little bites of the sausage, and me, I start wondering when there'll be enough blood in the water to start a feeding frenzy. No, you're the one where some evil Nursejoy wants my girls, so she drugs me and makes a little nick in a blood vessel, so my balls start to swell and turn purple from -"

      The kid had turned and was on his hands and knees retching his guts out. Kevin walked forward and shoved him with his foot off the path into a thicket. "How about the one where I'm lying in a pool of my own vomit, retching my guts out in a patch of poison ivy?"

      Jenna stared at her Master and the boy as they walked away. "Those are your worst nightmares?" she asked nervously.

      "Naw, those don't even come close. My worst nightmare is I just moved my wife and kids into our new house, when I get audited by the Tax Board, and the only way to raise the money to pay the fines, penalties and back taxes, is to sell the house and move my wife and kids back into the crappy apartment and the crappy school district we just left. That one woke me up in a cold sweat at least once a week for a couple months."

      "That doesn't sound so scary," Jenna said cautiously.

      "You aren't a parent yet," he replied.

      The beautiful woman walked confidently towards the pool. Her superb armor marked her as an Armsmistress more than any her red hair and green eyes, or her confidence or grace. She looked around, much less certain than she had been at the Ranger Station. She seemed to try to sense those who spied on her, but continued into the water. She relaxed as she lay in the hot-spring fed pool, expectantly waiting.

      Her wait was soon rewarded.

      The beep in the ear piece told him that the Pokedex was in full record mode. And people wonder why no serious police officer will touch a Jahana model, he thought of his Taylor-made 'dex, Just what you need on a stakeout, a machine that announces your presence at the worst possible time. Why is a headphone jack and no speaker an extra-cost, special-order item? He listened to the machine happily indicating more and more data was being collected. As if I didn't know what she is, he thought of the Pokègirl teasingly strutting towards the pool and her Armsmistress lover. You'd think that an Armsmistress would bother to make armor that would actually protect her lover, he thought of the new arrival's armored bikini that covered barely enough for decency, and exposed the tattoos. Before he could focus on what they were, the pair vanished.

      You aren't up against a nosey Tamer, kids. You're up against an experienced professional, and you aren't as skilled as many human criminals are, he thought as he pulled the techno-mystic binoculars from his satchel, The splashing water would be a dead give away. Hubris will get you every time. The systems on the binoculars penetrated their concealment spell, and magnified the entwined barbed-wire and snake motif that ringed the newcomer's upper arms. So, a 'born' 'She who need not be nailed', he thought happily, Playing with her lover and laughing at the fool Tamers who will be drawn to their doom. He raised the detonator and smiled. I don't think so. He armed all three of the non-redundant circuits and pushed the button. One of the signals got through whatever jamming the tattooed enemy of Humanity had set up, and three pounds of military-grade explosives detonated in the water of their love nest.

      Both girls suddenly became visible as the water fountained up, then rained down around them. I could almost expect their bugeyed expression was from the blast bulging their eyes out, he thought as he glanced over to Jenna. "We'll go forward now, but don't get in reach of either of them," he told her, "Impossible as it may seem, the blast may not have gotten them." He pulled the camouflage tarpaulin aside for her.

      "Ma - sir, I find that hard to believe," she told him as they slipped out of the concealed nook they had camouflaged and hidden inside, "If what you said about the way explosions happen in water, I'm surprised their insides didn't pop out of their mouths."

      The S-Goth lay on the pool's surface, her unseeing eyes staring up at the sky. The Armsmistress was trying to crawl out of the pool. Both corpse and survivor bled from their mouths and left a spreading red-brown stain in the water.

      "Bastard," the Armsmistress hissed as she lay on the bank, the blood dripping out of her mouth, and a mix of things oozing out to stain the ground between her legs.

      "Jenna, take all you want from the one in the pool. It's probably a cleaner death than she's getting now," he told her, then looked at the stricken Armsmistress, who had tried and failed to even sit up, "I'm a bastard? What poor Pokègirl were you going to sic all those Tamers on? Some poor Ursine, half-starved and mad with fear? Maybe a Dracass who showed some sympathy for Humanity?"

      "Bastard!" the Pokèwoman hissed again, then squealed in agony and curled into a ball.

      "If you're wondering why your armor failed so miserably, it's because water hates being compressed, and smashing your sphincter and guts out of the way gave it the shortest path to release. It also is very satisfying seeing one of their agents pouring her life out her ass. A mix of blood and shit, somehow appropriate, considering you're only one of a handful of agents she's got on her string."

      "Liar!" the dying Pokèwoman hissed and grimaced, "She loved me!"

      "Sure, for the information you could give her, and the trouble you could create for her. You should have heard the things she said about you when she was with the others. Are you really that clumsy in the sack? Even I can use my tongue better than that."

      She tried to sit up, but only shrieked, half-pain and half-rage, and could do nothing to back it up.

      " 'Boredom on a half-shell' I think was her funniest nickname for you." He glanced up and saw that Jenna had finished her meal. "If she loved you so much, how come you aren't suddenly wracked with anguish over her death and the loss of your bond?"

      "I'll kill you both, slowly!"

      "That isn't an answer. Don't feel bad. She thought the same of all her other lovers. Only one or two understood they were just part of her harem. All the others thought they were `special` too. She thought you were all, 'so touchingly naive'. You were her beloved pets, like humans used to keep small animals, occasionally showing them affection, when it suited them."

      "You're lying," the Pokèwoman sobbed.

      "I might be. But it's much more fun to hurt you with the truth. Do you know why Cheetits are all over the globe? Considering that their base stock is from the Dark Continent? Because your Mistress and her friends didn't want any passionately heterosexual Pokègirls anywhere near them, so they slaughtered them."

      "No."

      "Marched their new, reptilian armies into their villages, and killed anyone who didn't just run away. Especially the old and the young."

      "No," she whispered, "We were going to save Pokègirls."

      "Like your victim? All those Tamers and their Pokègirls were supposed to kill her, and die in the process? How many Pokègirls would have died horribly? At least one by my count," he asked with a laugh, "You've heard of the Dameosaurs? They just loved reaching into the cradles and having a quick bite. The tenderest meat just slid down smooth."

      "It's a lie," the Pokèwoman whimpered.

      "Those who tired, were run down and slaughtered. All for the crime of wanting lovers and children. Some escaped, and brought us the truth. You're a Pokèwoman, Taming for you would eventually mean kids of your own, if you did it with a male. Unless you want to be like the Huns? Once they go through their second puberty, the only function they have is defending the young, never birthing them themselves," he said, "Your Mistress didn't want a society of free Pokègirls, unless they and their kind were the Masters."

      "Bastard," she whispered, tears streaming down her face to mingle with the blood still pouring from her mouth.

      "Jenna, put her down. Even one of their slaves doesn't deserve to die like this." He stepped away and looked at the tattooed corpse lying on the bank, where Jenna had dragged her. Royal blood, he thought disdainfully of the specific tattoos the corpse had adorning her arms, I should bow to her majesty, but I refuse to bow to a murderer.

      Jenna approached cautiously. "Do I need to say how despicable that was? That's coming from someone with some experience."

      "The S-Goths practice necromancy and sorcery. They will summon her shade and question her. Torture her if they think they need to. All to get information on the loss of their `sister`. Better to have her shade go into the next world hating and fearing them. She'll also attract many of the fallen Cheetits and the S-Goths' other victims, so she will have a full arsenal of reasons to hate them when they whistle her up. And you'll forget everything you heard. If they think you know, they'll make what happened to you at the hands of those gentlemen, look like a country folk-dance."

      "Understood," Jenna said, "They were both strong. They would have been more than a match for me. If we'd fought them. But why not try to take them alive?"

      "First, because the S-Goths never tell their followers the truth, just bits of disinformation they want revealed if their lover or servant is captured. Second, the S-Goth will try to kill or cripple as many as they can to avoid capture, or during escape attempts. Sometimes hurting someone rather than taking an easy opportunity to escape. They have a visceral hatred of any authority but their own, which must be worshiped absolutely. Thirdly, I have a personal vendetta against them. When I uncovered one of their plots, they tried to assassinate my pregnant wife and my daughters, one of them the girl you met a few hours ago. They underestimated what Coyotits will do to defend their family, especially a pack of them, and they underestimated how much our neighbors loved my wife and kids. One old Witch kept an S-Goth from teleporting or using her aura attacks, while her grandsons beat the S-Goth to death with picks and shovels. I won't even go into what the Galem did to the two Dameosaurs she caught."

      "Ouch."

      "Yeah. Let's burn the bodies, then we can head back to camp. Frankly, I want to know what they were going to get that pack of Widow-bounty crazed Tamers to fight."

      Jenna gasped and raised one wing, while trying to look at the wing that wouldn't rise. Something sticky hit him in the chest, and a pleasant numbness spread through his body.

      Waking up inside a cocoon is never a good thing, he thought as he examined his silken surroundings as much as he could with the dim light filtering through it, The fact I'm in my underwear, and this appears to be both reinforced and quilted, leads me to believe I'm not in any immediate danger. He touched the spot where the glob had hit him. Venom's gone from the skin and the clothing. That's a neat trick, he thought as his questing fingers found a seam in the cocoon, I may just keep this as a sleeping bag. Superbly made, and big enough for two. So what am I facing, a rouge Tarentella or a pack of Wolf Spiders? This is too fine for Xerablondi or Spinnertit work.

      He poked his head out of the cocoon and saw a similar cocoon, also hanging from the high ceiling, and also swaying as if its occupant had recently awakened. Don't just tear your way out of it, he silently admonished his partner, then she poked her head through the opening and looked around. Her angry expressions softened when she saw he was all right. He enjoyed watching her slip out of the small opening, like a moth emerging from a cocoon.

      A quick flight and she with him, her long legs wrapped around the cocoon and his waist. "I think I'm going to crawl in there and get a Taming or two before we play hero," she told him as she rubbed herself on the cocoon and what was inside.

      "Not that I disagree or that you don't deserve one, but I think we need to find out what put us in here, and deal with it."

      She frowned slightly. He pointed out, "I think we've got proof it isn't as dangerous as that Armsmistress wanted everyone to believe. Instead of eating us, or raping us, or filling us with eggs, it, or she, cleaned the venom off, and put us someplace warm and safe. So your raging libido may be something we need to use."

      "Someplace we could get out of," Jenna added as she carried him down to the floor, "Okay, my sympathies are all warmed up and my raging libido ready and eager to serve. What are we going to do?"

      He looked at the nest of silk sheets and cushions in one ground-level nook, and the pile of crude clothes hung from some rock outcroppings.

      "What cops have been doing since time immemorial," he explained, "We look around and see what jumps out at us." He walked over to a hollow that had been chiseled out of the rock. A framed picture of a young boy and girl on a grassy field sat in the carved nook. Before he could examine it -

      "Master!" Jenna hissed a warning.

      He turned slowly, and faced one of the oddest looking creatures he'd seen in his long life as a cop. That's not an Arachnae, or a Widow. So . . . who or what is she? he thought of the four armed, four-legged girl who seemed torn between charging straight at him, or retreating.

      He traced her line of sight and pulled his hand away from the picture, stepped away from it. I'd almost think the girl isn't a spider type. He looked at the almost-Arachnae, as he circled her. She turned to face him. Jenna wisely stayed in the girl's arc of vision. The muscled legs of the girl were the glaring difference. Those legs belong on a cat-type, not a bug-type. She might be a plant-type for all I know, they often have Poison attacks, at least sleep poisons. He looked around, and noted the strings that hung from the walls. She can't wall climb, so she uses those stringers. He considered the Tauric form and remembered the lessons in subduing tauric-forms. The best one doesn't hurt them, he remembered. "Jenna, you ready? I don't think she's going to hurt us. We just have to control the situation."

      He waited for her to nod, then advanced a step. The girl drew back a step and looked at Jenna slowly walking around her, but keeping a safe distance away.

      "Gently, gently," he whispered as he drew closer, keeping his hands where she could see them. She kept turning her head, then her body, to keep both of them in view. She made little, uncertain mewling noises as she tried to wonder what to do.

      "You aren't a monster," he said as he caught her hand and stroked his fingers over hers, "Or you would have hurt us already. But you didn't, did you?"

      She stared at him with a worried expression, but kept looking over her shoulder at Jenna, who hadn't gotten one step closer to her as she circled.

      He ran his hands over her forearms. She hissed and pulled back, but he walked towards her. "You're afraid, but you don't have to be. Avellane told you you could trust me, didn't she?" he asked, remembering the clues his daughter had given him.

      The girl had backed herself into a corner, but she nodded that she had been told. She didn't shy away as he gently stroked her cheek, while his other hand made little circles on her stomach. She grabbed his hand as pressed it to her breast, pressing it deeply into the firm softness.

      "You want to redeem yourself and serve penance for what you've done. I can do that, that's why she sent for me," he told her. Not exactly pillow talk, but it seems to be working, he thought as he stood on his tiptoes and licked her ear, while he let his roaming hand move down her body and his captured hand continue gingrly kneading her breast and rubbing the nipple.

      She panicked and tried to break past him. I expected as much, he thought as he pulled himself up on her back and put his arms around her waist and hokked his legs under hers.

      She clambered over the floor, making terrified noises as she moved, unable to shake him off, and uncertain if he was a threat. She climbed up the wall using her preset lines, but with his legs hooked under her front set of legs, so she couldn't dislodge him, even by hanging upside down from her hands and feet from the cealing. He slowly let his hands slip down her body.

      "I know what you need, and it isn't just a Taming," he whispered in her ear, blowing softly. The girl whimpered slightly as he massaged the inside of her forward thighs, "You aren't a monster. You aren't who you were, or you would have hurt us already. But you didn't, did you? The Armsmistress and the S-Goth lied to you. They were the ones who were assembling the Tamers to hurt and kill you. Avellane, my daughter told you she could help you."

      She moaned again as she nodded her head. He slowly massaged up her thighs. He could feel her trembling.

      "You're afraid, but you don't have to be. Avellane told you you could trust me, didn't she?" he asked, trying to guess what his daughter would have said to console this girl.

      The girl nodded as she arched her back more. He got the hint and began rubbing his growing erection against the small of her back. He saw her eyes glaze as need fought instinct. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Jenna had collected pillows, silk blankets and quilts, all as a nest for them in a hollow of the floor. Then she launched herself into the air.

      "I won't say you won't be punished, but I can reduce it to communities service. I can guarantee no harm will fall on your children," he told her.

      One of her hands slipped, and pulled two feet loose of their support lines. The girl squawked, then realized she'd fallen into Jenna's arms. "We'll protect you, you don't have to be afraid any more," the Succubus told her as she carefully pulled the girl in her arms loose of the ceiling and lowered them down to the nest she'd created.

      Jenna rubbed her nipples against the girl's as he slipped his fingers into her and finished bringing her to climax. The tension drained out of the girl with her cries and she practically melted into nest Jenna had created for them.

      The Succubus stared at him as he climbed loose of the unconscious girl. "I knew I was missing something in your and Avellane's little chat, but children?" she demanded, with no trace of fear in her voice or manner, "And what did you do to her? I've seen some orgasms before, had a number myself, but I never remember any of them that made me pass out. Sleepy is the closest I ever came."

      "First, Avellane didn't tell me everything, but she did tell me a young mother was in serious trouble, although she never managed to use a Pokedex on our friend here. Second, you think Ranma Saotome was the first dimensional traveler who was a light example of our dark version? About eighty years ago, a light Happosai dropped into our laps. He thought he was in heaven, girls actually needing sex, so he taught a few of the University and other agencies in the Sunshine League, a secret Sex-based martial art, 'perfect for safely subduing almost any Pokègirl who lets you get close enough to touch her'. Not useful for warding off Ferality, but give a Pokègirl a few mind-numbingly powerful orgasms, and she'll instantly become your slave for life."

      "So you did that to her," Jenna said of the spider girl, "Why didn't you do that to me?"

      "Because you already would be my slave," he explained as he took her hand, "I needed to rebuild your spirit, which is coming along nicely. Succubi are affected by sound, there's a simple way to do it, but you also needed to feed and feel useful."

      "Thank you. That story is complete Minotaurashit, nice, but Minotaurashit," she said as he brought her wrist to his lips and hummed the tune into her hand, "That kind of - OH GODS!"

      He caught her as she collapsed, and lowered her to lie against the fallen spider girl. "It's also no fun if you want to talk or cuddle after sex," he said as he heard dozens of small feet on the stone around him. "Well, it looks like I play grandpa again, while I wait for them to wake up."

Jenna 3

      "I have to admit," Jenna said as they packed up the spider girl's meager possessions, "That I didn't know what was going in."

      "Ave, and I met, actually, our kits met, several weeks ago,"Lady Dectus, my Master's new girl said quietly.

      I almost think we're having a contest over who can be the most demure and oriental in our delicacy, she thought as she watched her, now their Master roughhouse with three kits. Only his superior reach and ability to use the handlines gave him any chance at all.

      "One of her kits, a Coyotits, was ambushed by my three. They all knew it was rough and tumble play, because when his four siblings ambushed my three, it stayed just play. It was when the two mothers rushed to see what the fuss was about, that we nearly had a tragedy. Fortunately, she called back her kits and talked to me. Then she led me to a pool so all the kits could go swimming and she shared her picnic lunch with us. She came up a couple of other times, the last time, she left a note near where she knew I . . . frequented, telling me that help was on the way."

      Left you a warning in your hunting grounds, Jenna translated, There's a lot you aren't telling me. And I want to find out. A cop's partner should be able to interrogate.

      "I thought I knew Pokègirls, but I've never even heard of your evolution."

      The girl paused and considered, before answering, "I think we're quite rare. I was aboard a ship in the Colorado Sea between Johto and the Sunshine Leagues, when we were attacked by pirates. I evolved during the fight, and I used everything I had to kill the pirates, sink their ship, and fight off the sea-going Ferals. I was dying of exhaustion and exposure when I washed up on the coast. Losing my Tamer must have triggered something, because I gave birth to my kits and looked for a place to raise them. My Tamer and Harem-sisters were dead, killed in the fighting. I didn't want anyone to find me."

      More to the story than she's letting on, Jenna thought.

      "You can't blame yourself for their deaths. You didn't make the pirates attack, you didn't ask to -"

      "Aha! I have found the lair. Now I will capture - you - and -" our `worst nightmare` informed us, before spotting Master, and trying to make a run for it. A slung shot by Lady Dectus tangled his legs. "Don't kill me!" he squealed as he tried to crawl away.

      "No kids, you can't eat him, you don't know what he's been rolling in," Master told them as he walked over and caught the boy.

      "She's not a Widow," Master counseled, "Use your 'dex to confirm it."

      "You're right," our `worst nightmare` said in confusion after he'd scanned the arachnid, "Dryder." Then he got a familiar gleam in his eye. "I shall - urk."

      Master held him off the ground by his collar, which prevented effortless breathing. The old man smiled into the terrified face of the younger, and asked politely, "What's your name, son?"

      "John," the boy squealed, his feet trying to find purchase on the open air, "Meioff."

      Jenna shook her head at human cruelty. "But everyone calls you 'Jack', right?"

      The boy's fear turned to shame as he nodded.

      "All right, John." Master set the boy back on his feet, but still supported a good deal of his weight, "The Armsmistress who filled all your heads with glory and riches for downing a Widow. What exactly did she promise, no lies, John." Master held up his badge in front of the boy's face.

      The boy's list of phobias did a fast reshuffling. "You're with the SLIS?" he squealed.

      "We're," Master corrected as he led/carried the boy outside, "Which is why you're going to cooperate, as a friendly and helpful citizen of the Sunshine League." Jenna imagined her Master's expression darkening. "Not as an accessory to a plot against the League. Are we clear?"

      Jenna didn't hear the answer.

      "What was that?" Lady Dectus asked angrily.

      "One of the people who assembled to fight the terrible monster . . . you," Jenna explained softly.

      The poor girl looked heartsick. "But she said I'd be safe here!" she said, holding back her tears, "That my kits could grow up safe."

      " 'She'?" Jenna asked and glanced to make sure they were unheard by the interrogation outside.

      Might as well put my training to work, she thought, I paid a high enough price for it. She daubed at the other Pokègirl's eyes and hugged her.

      "What did 'she' look like? Was she as pretty as you?"

      The girl blushed, and within a few moments of compliments and harmless questions, Jenna got the answer.

      "I would have thought that metal bikini would chafe, but she said it was comfortable."

      "But no tattoos?"

      "Oh no," Lady Dectus assured them.

      Jenna thought deeply, Yes, a disguise spell on our earlier visitor, she thought, That's why she didn't recognize the corpse. You were set up my new friend. Tough as you no doubt are, your kits were to be the prey, then you'd go insane.

      "Are you all packed?" their Master stuck his head in and asked as the kits immediately crawled all over him as he stepped in.

      "It's a load, but the two of us can handle it if you can carry the little ones," Jenna answered.

      "I think you need to hear this, all of you," Master and Jenna exchanged meaningful glances.

      The Succubus smiled knowingly. Yes, your Pokègirl questioned her, now when you question her, I will hear the inconsistencies, she thought and felt a swelling pride and the look of appreciation on her Master's face. She sighed. But he's to old to automatically reward me with a Taming.

      The boy told his tale, any exaggeration due to the uncertainties of youth trying to be the hero. He tolerated the pack of Dryder kits crawling all over him.

      He seems to enjoy the attention, Jenna thought, Once he settles down, he'll be a better Tamer, no probably a Watcher. He's too ready to fight, which as my former owner proved, is a disaster.

      "You don't have any powerful Pokègirls, do you?" Jenna finally asked.

      "Of -! Well, she's - no, not really." He transitioned from hero, to defensive, to defeated kid. "A LadyBa isn't really powerful." He brightened. "But I'm a good trainer, and she's a fast learner!" he added proudly.

      "Against an expert Tamer and a high-level Succubus? Or against a high-level spider-type, what do you expect would happen?" Jenna asked, trying to sound sympathetic, instead of laughing at his naive earnestness.

      "We could have gotten - "

      "Sh!" Master hissed, then waved John forward, "You start small. With what you can handle. Then you move up." Master pointed to a pair of Lambchop rollicking in the field below.

      "But they're -"

      "A place to start, and well within your LadyBa's capabilities. John, you don't down a Demon-Goddess with a Damsel, no matter how skilled you are, or how much she loves and believes in you."

      "Yes, sir," John said.

      "What are you waiting for?" Master asked, and watched the boy slip through the tall grass down the hill.

      Once he was out of earshot. "Jenna, don't let them get hurt. Lady Dectus, are you and your kits ready to move?"

      "Yes," the Dryder replied.

      "Then now's the time. He'll either win or lose, but he'll be occupied the whole time," Master explained as the group slipped away.

      Jenna watched the boy charge up to one Lambchop, and make his speech.

      The two fuzzy Pokègirls looked at each other, then both immediately jumped him, before he could release his LadyBa.

      Jenna shook her head. At least I'll get lunch, she thought as she swooped in. She drained some of the strength from the two Ferals, then released the LadyBa. "Go help your Master Tame them," she told the insect-like Pokègirl, who goggled at the powerful Succubus giving her orders.

      The Pokègirl did as she was told, once Jenna gave her a fang-exposed smile.

      The LadyBa managed to distract one of the weakened Lambchops, allowing her Master to take the initiative and start Taming the other one, instead of being Tamed.

      Jenna landed at the tail end of the column, beside the Dryder. "Anything interesting happen?"

      "No, normally my kits would scatter in all directions, they seem fascinated by your - our - Master."

      "Yes, yes they are," Jenna sighed longingly.

      I understand exactly why they're completely fascinated.

      "What about your former Master?" Jenna asked, "Mine . . . liked getting stoned on anything illegal, then beating us up."

      The girl winced at both comments. "What happened to him?"

      "He was killed by a mix of drugs and making one of his girls snap. He died, they killed her, and I've got a new Master."

      "You don't act like most of the Succubi I've met." The Dryder commented as they walked.

      "Met a few? Have you?"

      "The 'Lady' is not an affectation. My . . . husband was nobility. Sufficiently high that even I was called 'Lady', although I suspect it was a slur, or intended as one. Succubi are very popular among the jaded, until they tire of the attitude of someone even more blase about life and others than they are, or are more arrogant than they are."

      "A group of people developed a process to reduce that. I was subjected to it, before I was rescued. Whatever I thought about humans before, I realized that they are infinitely cunning and inventive in ways to belittle anyone or anything they think looks down on them, even gods."

      "Okay, we should wait until the coast is clear, then slip into the ranger station," Kevin told them as the waited in the underbrush.

      "Wahh!" came the cries from all around them as kits and kids charged out of hiding places among the trees and others from across the broad lawn. Soon all of them had a half-dozen or more kids crawling all over them, except the Dryder kits, who were happily wrestling one or two others.

      "Okay, scrap that plan," Jenna suggested as some of the parents began staring at the commotion in the trees, and where their kids had run off to, "How about we just walk straight in?"

      "Good idea," Kevin admitted, "I know when the situation has changed." He walked towards the ranger station, and brushed off or acknowledged the apologies from the stunned parents.

      They walked into the main office, and came face to face with a very angry Grizzlar. The gray furred Pokewoman growled at them. All three of them retreated a step. Jenna and Lady Dectus braced for a fight.

      "Is this really yours?" the Pokèwoman asked as she held John at arm's length, incidently well off the floor.

      "Sort of," Kevin admitted, "John, you tried to capture a Free? Didn't you notice the collar? If you had caught her, you would have been under arrest." He glanced at the irritated Grizzlar, and realized a lecture wasn't going to be enough. "Sally, if Randall still up in the hills studying the plant-types?"

      The Grizzlar smiled. "Yeah. Yes, he is." She was grinning now.

      "You think he might be in the mood to teach a young Watcher?" Kevin asked.

      "I'm certain the boy would want to - volunteer - " Sally turned the boy so he could clearly see her teeth. "- to help such a distinguished expert in Pokègirl research. Right?"

      John got a clue and simply nodded. "I'm sure I'll learn a lot."

      The door burst open and the Denmother charged in. "We've got a problem." She looked around hopefully.

      Sally set the kid down and headed out, Kevin, Jenna and Lady D followed. The Denmother kept John from following them. Outside, the Tamers had finally realized how many of them there were, and were confronting the few park rangers. Their harems increased their apparent numbers.

      "Ignore the Pokègirls, it's only the Tamers who matter," Kevin warned, "But keep them off the rangers, and me."

      The tension between the Tamers and the rangers was obvious even if the words exchange were not.

      "Time to get their attention," Kevin said quietly as he pulled his badge.

      "LISTEN UP!" Sally roared, shocking Jenna and Kevin more than the confrontation before them. Sally shrugged as Kevin held up his badge.

      "Everyone, I.D.s and Pokedexes out!' Kevin ordered, holding his badge up for everyone to see. "Some of you may have heard of Team Rocket," he said loudly as he began checking I.D.s. The crowd growing more subdued. "Some of you may have heard that they lure Tamers out into the wilderness and steal their Pokègirls, sometimes their entire Harems. We call that a Har-reaming. Because they usually attract some infuriated Ferals into the area, and a few days later, the SLIS gets called in to identify the remains."

      The crowd was slowly redirecting its anger. Jenna walked among them, using her Master's 'dex to compare to the readings on the Tamer's 'dexes. The Tamers singled out by this, got more nervous from the Succubus's placid scrutiny.

      "Have any of you geniuses noted that there are no SLUT teams out here, that there are no high-powered hunter teams out here? The rangers were trying to protect you from yourselves. From marching out there en masse and becoming something's entree." He glanced over at Jenna, who shook her head. "All right. I've found nothing more than the usual violations than most cops let pass. Any of you who want to stay and help the rangers sweep for the Team Rocket creeps out there, please report to the ranger station in an orderly line. The rest of you, the show's over, go home."

      Most of the Tamers walked away muttering, but about ten to fifteen collected their girls and marched over to the ranger station.

      "That's my dad," the ranger said with a mix of relief and disgust, "Walks in and throws everything on its head. Thanks for the rescue, in any case, they were getting ugly."

      "What are we supposed to do with ten Tamers and their Harems?" the bear of a man asked.

      "Sweep for Team Rocket types and poachers, take then through some of the rougher country. They'll either get foot-sore and decide the adventure isn't worth it, or they may come to like it, and you'll get some people you can count on," Kevin replied.

      The girl looked over Lady Dectus. "I see you didn't find anything suspicious. Did that agitator find something?"

      "Yeah," Kevin told her, "Something you don't need to know about. Although the vultures should be left alone for a few days."

      The girl frowned. "You aren't going to explain it, are you?"

      "Other than this is why I didn't want you in my world? No."

      "She'll be . . . safe, won't she?"

      "As safe as anyone in my life," Kevin replied.

      "We'd better get them organized and out in the field, so you can slip away," the large man shook his head, "I'd heard stories. I didn't believe them."

      "It isn't trained in the academy, and you have to know how to play the crowd. One person is smart, a whole bunch is just a big, dumb - dangerous - animal. Once you know its habits, you know how to control it. Let it get out of control, and you get a public-funded funeral. Experience and regret are the prices you pay for getting old, sometimes it's worth it." He left the youngsters alone.

      Jenna turned, only to have Sally catch her arm. "Humans aren't pack animals, unlike Pokègirls. Sometimes the past is the only companionship they want. Respect that and you'll get ahead."

      Jenna nodded.

      "Well John, we, should talk about your future," our Master's son-in-law, and the Grizzlar smiled at John.

      The grins on their faces is even more frightening than their anger. I almost pity John, Jenna thought, After I heard how completely loopy the old man is.

      "Yes, that's what the boy needs, a mentor, and a chance at responsibility," Sally said.

      "Do I get any say in this?" John asked, proving he wasn't completely unaware.

      "Certainly my boy," her Master said as he arrived, "You can stand in front of a magistrate and explain how you attacked a collared free Pokègirl, on her own private land. She owns that stretch of timber up there, and it's clearly posted."

      "What's the penalty?" John whispered to Jenna.

      "Loss of Tamers cert, and 3 to 5 years in a work camp," Jenna replied, and saw the nod from her Master.

      Yes, that's the worst that can happen, Jenna thought, Considering the defeat he already suffered, he'd probably get a warning, but it could happen.

      "Uh, how bad is this guy?" John asked nervously.

      "He's a watcher, he specializes in Alpine plant species, that is at the mountain tops. He's never harmed any of his students."

      "You've never heard him lecture," Sally replied.

      "His last student went out on his own, and he could use a new one," her Master told John, "I'm just looking for a volunteer."

      "I . . . volunteer," John said carefully.

      "Splendid," Sally said, "I've already got all your gear, and I'll make the introductions today." The Grizzlar pulled out a sack and dropped John in it, slung it over her shoulder and walked out. A moment later she was airborne.

      "A flying Grizzlar, and Ride of the Valkyrie?" Lady Dectus asked.

      "Long story," their Master explained and shook his head.

      "I didn't expect to find you here," the ranger said of Lady Dectus.

      "I wanted to be registered to your father, my Master, as quickly as possible. Once he logged me in, I started filling out the necessary paperwork."

      "He's a good father. Pig-headed, stubborn, know-it-all, although he seems to get smarter in retrospect as I raise my own kids. When I was 18, he was an arbitrary moron, it's amazing how smart and clever he's gotten as I got older."

      The Dryder chuckled at that. "I suspect he'll suggest leaving my kits with you," she said wistfully, "The life of a policeman can't have been an easy one."

      "I don't see why you think that. He married our mom, and she stayed home and raised the kids. I think Jenna would be more than willing to help, our mom did it with some help from the older kids."

      "I guess I'm used to the whole nanny thing. I don't know how to raise children."

      The ranger laughed. "No one does. All the books and advice, and they'll pull something completely out of left field. The calm one will have a tantrum for no reason. A kid who's had perfect health suddenly goes comatose anytime he has a high fever. I sometimes think that the gods test us that way, to remind us we aren't as powerful and in control as we think."

      "You and Jenna talk alike, I was taught that the powerful control everything."

      "They do, as long as they never set foot out of their little enclaves. Once the lawyers and accountants can't support them, they fall apart. I can't tell you how many rich fools we rescue, who thought buying the best equipment would eliminate all obstacles. Training and humility would have gotten them better results," the Coyotits explained, "Dad's been a cop all my life. He's seen things that only random chance and human stupidity can explain." She paused and considered then softly added, "And a few things that are too easily explained by human evil."

      "I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring up old memories."

      "They aren't so old. Those Tamers who were going to 'kill the monster', do you think they would have stopped at you?"

      The Dryder blanched at that, shaking her head. "Not my kits too."

      "Afraid so."

      Sandy trudged along, desperately trying not to sneeze, but the cottonwoods mercilessly tickled his nose. "ACHOO!" The fluffy gray kitten dodged the falling backpack, despite the entangling clothes.

      Sandy sighed as he looked around his surroundings. Blood curse, ha! he thought as he considered his next course of action.

      "Kitty!" came a cry that always struck terror in his heart.

      A little girl picked him up and snuggled him before he could escape.

      If I yowl loud enough I - he stopped as he noted the young man following the girl had stopped to pick up both Sandy's pack and clothes, and the girl. The girl carefully packed the clothing back in the pack as the man carried them both towards the seaport.

      Excuse me, he wanted to tell them, But I'm not a kitty. The cute, young girl wearing the shift, and the young man on whose shoulders they rode.

      "You can't necessarily keep him," the man said. The girl stuck out her tongue at him and cuddled her new pet.

      At least I'm headed in the right direction, he thought in subdued tones, But if I sneeze again, there's going to be some very surprised people.

      "Your Pokègirls and supplies would sure help us more than they would a weakling like you," came the voice. A man with three scarred Pokègirls confronted them.

      Amazon-Wu, Ronin, and a Tomboy, he thought, We're -

      He felt himself dropped in the man's hands as the little girl dropped to the ground with a shout of "TOYS!" Suddenly facing the trio of scarred toughs was a full grown Malakim, a winged Armsmistress. The loose, long shift the little girl wore now clung to marvelous curves her like a one-piece bathing suit. She flattened the stunned Amazon-Wu with a wing punch, while she picked up the Tomboy by the scruff of her neck and threw her overhand at her Master. The Ronin showed her incredible loyalty to her Master and Harem-sisters by running away screaming in terror.

      The man walked over and picked up the fallen thug's belt of Pokèballs. He scanned them with his 'dex, removed two and recalled the Tomboy into her ball. "I think these three will look better with me now," the man said as he swung the little girl up on his back and handed her back her kitten.

      "Fluffy!" she announced as the cuddled the cat to her cheek.

      I think there's a lot here I don't understand, he thought as the small town and the docks came into sight.

      The varied and numerous tents and kiosks advertised all manner of necessary equipment.

      I'm almost glad that I can't change back. I would have spent all my money already.

      "Junk," the little girl told her Master, and steered him away from a place selling wands.

      I guess as a Seraph, she can sense such things, he thought as they walked, If she keeps petting me this way, I may just fall asleep.

      All his fur stood on end as she shouted, "There! There!" She pointed at a stand selling books, while practically jumping up and down on the man's shoulders. "They're real," she shouted excitedly.

      The young man smiled indulgently and headed towards the stand.

      Sandy watched as the girl picked out the books designed to accept spells, without becoming magic items themselves, and the man added a few books on the magic properties of minerals and plants.

      "I don't know your school," the man told Sandy," So I can only get the general reference works for you."

      I only really want a cure, Sandy wanted to tell him, I'm going to have to study cures and curses to do that. I also want to know why I'm the one being surprised.

      Jenna had been enjoying working as a secrePokè at the office, while all the others had been leading Tamer teams to search for the Team Rocket forces out and about. She looked out at The Denmother and Lady Dectus playing with the kits out on the lawn. She certainly fits the role, and 'Since that's what I do, that's what I'm going to be called.' Jenna thought with a smile, and a twinge of jealousy, It will be years before I could give my Master children the way his wife did, and Lady Dectus can. She stroked her flat stomach and felt the emptiness there. Lady Dectus and Ave never can get rid of that last little bulge that tells any Pokègirl with eyes that they carried a litter of children, human children to term. Somehow parthenogenic births don't do that. I guess Pokèwomen are different that way.

      The angry Draco walking brazenly into the office broke the reverie completely. Jenna could see The Denmother charging in to help. From the Draco's expression she'll be too late, Jenna thought as the Pokègirl covered the entire desk with the bag she'd been carrying.

      "Is this your's?" the Draco asked disdainfully, as she untied the rope binding the sack closed.

      Jenna put her hand over her face. "Not really, hello John," Jenna said.

      "Hello," their nightmare replied.

      Her Master's arrival seemed to defuse things. "Hello John, hello Cindy," he said as he stepped into the office, a crowd of footsore Tamers behind him.

      Everybody else's teams are getting smaller, and smaller, according to plan. His are staying the same size. None of these young bucks wants to be less than an old man, she noted some of the looks she was getting, despite the rather shapeless uniform, The old man who can keep a young Succubus Tamed.

      "John, what did I tell you about tackling things out of your range?" her Master asked.

      "Uh, that I shouldn't? But I got those Lamb Chops and yesterday I got another powerful Pokègirl!"

      "Skunkette," Cindy provided, "I should know, I still haven't gotten the smell out of my nose." The Draco looked around. "I still think I should have beaten them against a rock until they came clean."

      Lady Dectus stuck her head in and offered, "Didn't you say that Watcher's student left, and John here was the replacement?"

      "Oh, that's right. He sent me to get here fast, so I found Cindy and . . . made an idiot of myself. He needs help. He found a band of AuPairSex, too many for him and my girls to handle."

      "Okay, you heard," Master said, to the group behind him, "You will follow orders exactly. Properly handled, AuPairSex are not very dangerous. Poorly handled, you're dead. Any of you who come with better understand that."

      If he's hoping to scare them off, Jenna realized as she and Lady Dectus took up their places flanking their Master, It won't work.

      "I'll lead you in," John said, "I thought it was going to be boring."

      Sandy was finally in his human form again, in the cabin with the man and the little girl. "Thanks," he said, "How'd you know?"

      "You aren't the only one heading to Nuevo Tenochtitlàn to get some help. I also studied a little magic and I detected the energy coming off you."

      "Thanks," Sandy said, "Thanks for keeping my stuff and getting the stuff I need for the classes."

      The man bowed his head. "I actually wanted a favor from you."

      "What?" Sandy asked, then followed his gaze to the little girl curled up and sleeping on the only bed in the room."

      "Your . . . sister?" Sandy asked.

      You want a decent guy to Tame your sister, he realized.

      "My mom ran into something powerful. Maybe a Legendary," the man said, "Anyway, she's like this. She's a Pokègirl again, except when she's a chibi, she acts about 6, and when she's not, she's about 16. In her head at least."

      His mom! No wonder he doesn't want to Tamer her! Sandy thought, That would freak me out too.

      "She already likes you, so I'd appreciate . . . "

      "If she's a Seraph, how am I supposed to . . . ?" Sandy asked.

      "That's a good question. One I don't have an answer for," the man said.

      Sandy nodded. "I suppose that Thunder Stone you bought is for the Tomboy."

      "I've got enough problems without having to explain the need for Taming to a dirty-minded prude."

      Sandy laughed at that. Then sneezed. Terrific! the kitten thought and yawned. His benefactor put him next to his new Pokègirl/mistress.

Jenna 4

      The aging Venuswhore stood by the equally ancient man. Further downwind, a Potcunt would periodically raise her hand and a huge, diffuse fireball would explode dozens of yards upwind. And between the two groups, a cluster of AuPairSex basked in the sunlight, their spores wafting on the wind, until they were destroyed by the fireballs.

      "Five of them," her Master told Jenna, as she and the Draco dropped off him and John by the old man, "They're out cold, but in full bloom. Your Potcunt's fireballs are taking care of things old man. I thought you had a problem, Randall."

      Jenna's flesh crawled at the thought of the fungal infestations. I'd hate to lose any more of me than I already have, she thought, Or at least lose any more of what I've rebuild out of the ashes. She released Lady D to help deal with any problems.

      "Against just five? Amy and Pege could take care of just five without any help from me," Randall answered and sneered, "It's them what's the problem." The old man indicated the crew huddled in a hollow, just out of the stream, all of them clearly infected. "I've got one chem suit, so I pulled them out of the line, but damned if I know how to carry 25 people to the station or the nearest Pokècenter. I figured our Draco could get there faster than John could, so I sent him to get you all."

      "Master, even with a net, we can't carry that many," Jenna admitted, "Three, maybe four."

      "Between the two of use, maybe six or eight," Cindy amended.

      "The winds are too bad for a medi-blimp, and the terrain's too tough for a grav truck," Randall reminded them, and Jenna's Master frowned.

      "We separate out those we can save, from those we can. I've got Pokèballs enough to let you capture those five. Maybe we can save some of them."

      "Damn fools think numbers and money will protect them from being stupid. A simple 'dex scan would have showed them the problem," Randall said, "I've already got someone who needs the AuPairSex for experiments. They didn't read the signs I posted, and they had to walk off the trails."

      "People, can't eat'em, can use'em for parts," her Master commented, "Let's start separating them, once you've got the others balled and the fires have cleared the spores."

      Randall agreed with her Master.

      " 'In the end, we only saved eight of the humans, none of the Pokègirls they had left in their balls had been effected. Three of the men, we halted the transformation as women, the rest of the 25 went all the way to AuPairs. All these are going to the Sopar Station in Paradise Valley, where they can be studied along with the AuPairSex who were captured. It is with some regret I inform you that one of the once-males committed suicide, rather than live as a human woman. The loss of his entire Harem might have contributed to this. I recommend altering the training in dealing with AuPairSex victims to include warnings about such behavior. Special Investigator Kevin Thomas' I'll fill in the authentication codes later. Thanks Jenna, I hate typing."

      "One of my many skills."

      "Oh, maybe we could go somewhere private and you could show me some of them."

      "I think dic-tation has a very salubrious meaning," Jenna said.

      "Ranger! Ranger!" the screaming woman who charged in did nothing for the mood.

      Although the young woman would! Wow! Jenna thought of the angry mother, with her rather-pleased, young-adult daughter.

      "Some scamp used . . . well!? What are you going to do about it?" the mother demanded breathlessly.

      Master pulled out his badge, once he tore his eyes away from the young woman's marvelous curves. "Special Investigator Kevin Thomas, ma'am, SLIS."

      Both women froze at that.

      "Well, you see - it's - officer . . . well look at her," the mother stammered, and finally pointed at the young woman.

      "She's very beautiful. Does she want to join up? The life of a police officer isn't for everyone."

      That perked her up, Jenna thought as a smile spread across the girl's face, Not that she really needs it. Jenna quickly scanned the girl and she turned up as human. But my nose is telling me something else, Jenna thought and smiled.

      "My daughter was attacked by that - that - hooligan! I want him arrested, charged, drawn and - "

      "MOTHER!" the young woman said.

      "It must be terribly embarrassing having the attack discussed where anyone could just walk in. And such gossip, you probably having heard, but as a Pokègirl. . . " Jenna said cheerfully, mortifying the mother, but her daughter got a strange look in her eye, "And you probably need some tea and sympathy. Once your daughter gives her account, we can correct the details, clinically."

      "Yes," the women agreed.

      The daughter gave Jenna an odd look, but Jenna just waved her away. Then she got up to make the tea. At least Master hasn't figured it out, she thought happily.

      "What type of tea do you take, I recommend the Chamomile, it'll help calm you down," Jenna said happily.

      "Yes, thank you. I am glad you were clever enough to point out the gossip. What was I thinking? I can imagine the talk at home when they hear about this!"

      "The effects are usually temporary, unless they are especially made permanent, and most insect-types don't keep a permanent batch on hand. Most of the ethical girls, even if they seek to 'improve the world' let the target get used to the changes, then make them permanent."

      Two of them probably got too close to a battle, Jenna thought, Or they/she had something else in mind. Have I seen her around? Maybe, but if she was all straight lines and arrogance like her mother, neither I nor Master would have noticed. She must be wealthy, with her looks and personality, money or a gun are the only ways she could get someone with taste to impregnate her.

      "Cream and sugar?" Jenna asked happily.

      "Oh no, I have to watch my figure," the woman said.

      "Oh, terribly sorry. Problem with being a Pokègirl, everything I eat goes straight to my tits."

      They entered on of the seldom used rooms. Inside were a table and two chairs. "Here we are, Miss .. . ?"

      "Hampton, Juliana Hampton, please call me Julie." With that, she dropped the jacket which she'd been covering herself with, and locked the door. "Maybe I can call you - Master."

      "Miss Hampton," Kevin said as he backed away and tried to put the small table between himself and the girl, "The effects of Lust Dust are - "

      "It's not dust," she assured him as she dropped the key between her breasts, "OO! So cold!" She squeaked and quivered. "My mother has to buy her companions, if you haven't guessed. I want to be taken. By a man." She shimmied out of her too tight jeans and kicked them across the room. All that was left was the small bra that was effectively a necklace, and a pair of panties that were a thong whatever they had been before. "I want you to treat me like you'd treat any of your Pokègirls."

      "If one of my girls acted like this I'd - " Then Kevin remembered the side-effect of both Bloom and Buttsprout, "I'd send her to her room without dinner."

      "Then I'd just have to beg for a little protein," she replied, "Don't worry about your girl, or my mother, she volunteered to keep my mother occupied."

      "I'll have to talk to her about that," Kevin muttered, by that time the girl had him cornered.

      She rubbed her breasts against him. "Ooo flannel, so rough, yet soft and fuzzy, gets me all excited."

      "Young lady, you can get one of your own social set -"

      "Have you met guys my age?" she asked as she rubbed against him, "Once they finish, they don't care about you. My mother's toys have the same problem."

      "Ah, well one cure then," he said and watched her smile. He caught her wrist swung it around behind her, stepped around and handcuffed both wrists to the table.

      "Where are you going?!" she demanded, "You're going to need the key!" She shook her bosom at him.

      "I'm going to tell your mother than you are indisposed, and that you need to be kept away from others," he told her as he unlocked the door, "Then I'm going to tell her that curious children need to be kept away from dangers they aren't emotionally prepared to deal with. A stint in the Legion, or the Navy might be a good idea."

      "You can't leave me like that! Don't tell my mother! Please -!"

      He closed and locked the door. "Oh, by the way, the key doesn't work from that side, if this side is locked," he said softly.

      He walked back into the office, where Jenna, Lady D, and the woman's mother were talking. They're listening, she's lecturing, he thought.

      "Your daughter is also suffering from the effects of Lust Dust," he told the older woman, "She's in a containment room, and she should be back to normal in about an hour. Thank you for brining her in so swiftly. She might have become a danger to herself and others if she'd been allowed to roam the park."

      "A danger?" the woman asked with a shocked air.

      "Perhaps even to you," he admitted,"I'll take my Dryder out and see if we can scout out the situation. My supposition is that she wandered out of the restricted area, and got caught in a duel between plant- or insect-types."

      "Oh, dear," the woman said.

      ""Come on, we'll check it out while you stay here," he told them, "We should be back in about an hour."

      Once they were away from the Ranger station he told Lady D, "The cougar was after her prey, and daughter-dear got caught in the crossfire. Now she wants a sugar-daddy."

      "Ah, that makes her conversations more comprehensible," the Dryder explained.

      "Ah, your greatest nightmare returns, I shall -"

      "JOHN!" they chorused.

      "Yeah, well, if that's how you remember me . . . " he said, "Oh, I've got a question."

      Lady D stared at him, and Kevin just shook his head.

      "Yes, John?" Kevin said, bracing himself for anything.

      The boy looked around nervously, and whispered, "Are there any special care and feeding tips the Rangers or the SLIS have on Demon-Goddesses?"

      "YOU caught a DEMON-GODDESS?!" Lady D shouted.

      As every eye and ear in the vicinity turned their way, Kevin shouted, "That's the oldest con in the book, son. You got ripped off!" Then more quietly, "Let's not advertise this. We can talk while we walk. Head down, you just lost your life savings and your two best Pokègirls to a con man and you got a Chickenlittle who can't lay eggs in return. Good, that's exactly the posture and expression."

      "Not like I haven't had a little of practice," John said as he walked, the picture of abject misery, "Seriously, I've got one. She's four years old, my second cousin's latest partho. My second . . . she's a raving bitch queen, and that's being polite. Completely Farfuck'd Tomboy in the head, if it wasn't for Ferality she'd go off and be a hermit. Now you know why I left home, and why they sent the kid far out of her reach." He showed the key staff. "She's a good kid, but . . . how do I keep her from becoming like her mom?"

      "You can't guarantee your kids will turn out any different way," Kevin said and rested his hand on John's shoulder, "Some of mine turned out fine, some refused to do what I said, I suspect because I'd said it. But I had the moral basis set when they were young, so when they rebelled, they sought out people of good character to emulate. You also have to be a good example, because the kid will more likely do what you do, rather than what you say. A Demon-Goddesses will make that more important than ever. You'll have to teach her. The most important thing is don't take her development personally. If you hate a certain kind of music, and she loves it, and is good at it, you'll have to learn to live with it. Kids, and Pokèkits especially want their father's approval."

      "Yeah, I - I guess I have a lot to think about."

      "Don't forget the Rangers have kids too. My daughter may think I'm a misanthrope and a curmudgeon, but she's starting to see I was right about kids."

      He nodded and headed off.

      "Too bad there's ten year's difference. Recognition and good matches often come from two growing up together," Lady D said.

      "You didn't say much," Kevin replied.

      "He needed a father, not a mother. Besides," Lady D said and sighed, "I'm the one abandoning my kits, to go chasing off after my Master."

      "You'll be back. Then we can get them settled in the house. There's going to be some openings in the higher offices," he sighed, "I can take a desk job. Running all over these hills is tiring me out."

      "Poor old man," Lady D said with all the syrupy sympathy she could muster, "What about Jenna?"

      "Unfortunately, I was hoping I wouldn't have to punish her too severely, before she'd fully recovered, but that's not to be."

      "If I may, I have a suggestion."

      "Don't hold back a good idea," Kevin told her.

      The girl returned, fully clothed, much 'deflated', with Master. Lady D walked behind, having dressed the girl, possibly despite her objections.

      "The effects were temporary, and evidently, your child got too close to a battle outside the prohibition zone."

      And doesn't she wince at the 'child' comment, Jenna thought of the girl.

      "So no charges will be brought?" the woman asked as her daughter stood sulkily by her, throwing angry glances at Master.

      "Even if they were, you and she would face charges from your contributory negligence. The Attractive Nuisance defense does not and never has applied to Pokègirl battles."

      "I see. So out here in the woods -"

      "You have to look after yourself," her Master finished, "The trails and other posted areas are under more control, but wander off them, and there's danger that law can't fix. Several days ago, a large band of rich, well-connected tourists ignored the warnings and wandered straight into a nest of AuPairSex."

      The two women cringed at the thought of that.

      "Most of them are going to a research facility, in hopes of developing a cure for others."

      "I see," the woman said with a sneer. The girl had quit glancing at Master.

      "You can of course sue them. The rules of evidence in a civil case are much less stringent."

      "Oh very well." She grabbed her daughter's hand and headed out.

      "It wasn't John," Lady D told Jenna, "It was some pair of Tamers who are already long gone. And you are in more trouble than you realize."

      I'd debate that fact, Jenna thought, If it wouldn't get me in even more trouble.

      "True," Master stepped past the Dryder, and left.

      Jenna felt panic welling up inside her. It's the Alpha's job to punish the Harem, she thought, and looked at Lady D, Are you the Alpha now, he can't trust me to do it? I don't want to be under someone else's control, someone who is not my Master!

      "It was a simply Taming," Jenna protested, "We've seen couples doing that all over the park!"

      "Between him and some silly twist who thought ballooning herself up would catch our - my - Master's eye?"

      Jenna froze at the correction. No, he can't abandon me, he wouldn't, he can't, he wouldn't!

      "She didn't want a husband, and she certainly didn't want a husband with Pokègirls older than she is. She wanted an seeming-incestuous relationship with 'daddy'. If her mother couldn't hold her father's interest sexually, maybe she could find a guy of that age, and she could. You can guess where that would lead us?"

      Jenna had been grimacing, now she nodded numbly.

      "I think you'd better understand that humans can't sense if someone is a good Master or a bad one, like smart Pokègirls can. Or better yet, you should have thought whether she would have been a good Master. Fine, pair him up with an attractive, human female, but pick a good Master. Because if he does Tame her, he's likely to marry her, and then we'll be stuck with her . . . or she'll see to it we aren't."

      "Oh," Jenna said leadenly, while inside, her guts were churning.

      She would have thrown us out?! Of course she would have, she wouldn't have wanted competitors! What were you thinking?

      "It'll give you something to think about, when you're alone tonight, and maybe for the rest of the week."

      " 'Alone'?" Jenna asked as dread filled her, "Please."

      "No," her Master told her as he returned and stood beside her, towering over her, "I don't know if you weren't thinking, or if you thought wrongly that you were playing a prank, but in either case, I want no repetition. You can practice thinking about that, with no distractions."

      Jenna shivered and looked to Lady D, who wouldn't meet her gaze. "No, please," she whimpered as she looked from one to the other, receiving a stone gaze or avoidance.

      But he won't change his mind, she realized, and shivered again at the thought of not only being alone, but maybe spending her nights alone for a while.

      The room shouldn't have felt cold. I can feel the heat just pouring out of me, Jenna thought while she tossed and turned. The lack of warm bodies to curl up against keeping her awake. She pulled the many quilts and blankets Lady D and Avellane had provided more tightly around her, but nothing could eliminate the cold that filled her. I'm sorry Master. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! she wanted to tell him on bended knee. I'd never manage. He locked me out, me, locked out of his bedroom.

      She heard the door to her lonely room open. She turned eagerly. Lady D? she wondered, then the Dryder put a finger to her lips and held up a Pokèball. I haven't been in a ball in . . . I don't know how . . .

      Jenna dissolved in red light and the ball's capture light ceased blinking almost immediately, indicating the lack of fight in the occupant. The Dryder carried the ball to the Station's rudimentary Taming machine, and set it for maximum. The Level 1.6 this one puts out should be sufficient. I'd rather go up to a true 2, but then I'd have to take her clear to the Pokècenter and carry her back, she thought as she set Jenna's ball inside.

      A moment late, her Master joined her. "She'll be all right?"

      "The hours of isolation and a more than Level 1 Taming will do far more than any other punishment. Right now, she's having to justify herself, to herself, and her certainty she did wrong. That's a Hell no Human can really imagine. Isolation, regret and a frustrated need to be with others, all wrapped up in one package."

      "Why do you let us put you in there then?" her Master asked.

      "Because if you've been a good Pokègirl, it's the opposite, you're surrounded by all the memories of praise, affection and love you've gotten. The Pokèball and the Taming cycle merely hold up an unignorable mirror, and forces her to look into it, at Level 1 or 2. Higher levels, and you start to lose things. At Level 5, you lose yourself."

      "I wish you could put human criminals through a Level 5."

      "You can," Lady Dectus teased her Master, "Just turn them into Pokègirls first."

      Lady D had rematerialized Jenna back in her bed about an hour before the rest of the station usually rose. Jenna waited, straining every sense to feel if everyone had returned to sleep. Then she slipped silently out of her bed and flew to the kitchen. At least I can make breakfast for everyone, she thought as she worked.

      The regular order of awakening proceeded. The father woke, got some of the coffee she'd made. Then the kids came out.

      Where are they? she wondered as Lady D and her Master failed to appear. Each moment seemed to tear at her as they didn't come. Ave arrived and got the kids herded to the table. Then the Denmother arrived and helped Jenna serve.

      Jenna kept glancing down the corridor to the living quarters. She doled out the portions of the scrambled eggs and hash browns as the kids and the adults happily asked for more. She barely heard their compliments, as her Master and Harem-sister failed to appear.

      Jenna watched the kids, then their parents file out. She collected the dishes, and rinsed them off before she put them in the dishwasher. The leftovers went into containers, and into the refrigerator. Jenna looked around the empty kitchen and dining room, then sighed and headed for the office.

      She made sure she was presentable to the general public before she sat behind the desk and prepared for another day of the usual, innate insanity of the tourists' questions, comments and problems.

      Lunch came and went, Ave bringing in tea and a plate of cookies. Diner came and Jenna closed the office and headed back to the living quarters. Before she could arrive, a net dropped on her. She instantly summoned her Shadow Blade and sliced through the thick strands of the net and turned to face her attackers.

      "I told you one day wouldn't break her spirit, and would teach her a lesson," Jenna heard Lady D say, as the Dryder dropped out of the tree in Tauric form, with their Master astride her.

      "I guess she's been punished enough," her Master said, "Maybe she'd like to go for a nighttime ride?"

      "Sure," Jenna said happily, "Where?"

      "Another pool like the one we dynamited, blood warm and very private." Her Master slid back on Lady D, inviting Jenna to sit between her Master and Lady D's torso. Jenna folded her wings tight against her and slid in, gripping the Dryder tightly.

      "Let me breathe a little," Lady D teased, but set off at an exhilarating run.

      Jenna felt her Master pressing himself tight against her, his arms around her waist. The promise of more buoying up her spirits.

      "NO! Stop! Not that!"

      The almost inhuman screech made all Sandy's fur stand on end. For once, I'm glad I'm a cat, he thought as he crawled silently, backward away from the carnage.

      The hand over his mouth almost caused him to cry out, then he recognized the scent and the feel of the shift. He let his rescuer carry him away, her wings keeping her silently moving through the corridors. He felt safe in Racquel's hands, as the chibified Seraph rushed unerringly through the corridors, empty but for the occasional guard or student. The guards who hailed the obvious curfew breaker were ignored.

      So when the dorm room door was reached, there was a parade further back. The door was locked, thick and heavily warded. She smashed it open with her shoulder and charged into the cubby where one suppliant slept.

      "Greg! It was awful, and the blood and screaming and crying!" she shouted as she threw herself on her half-awake son, who she treated as her older brother.

      Her sobs and the groups of pursuing guards soon had the rest of the dormitory awake and alarmed. Someone sent for the police, another for a robe and a magic charm.

      "ArchChancellor," the Dean and former ArchChancellor himself welcomed his colleague. "I do wish we hadn't had to include . . . them." He glanced at the SLIS man, who was acting as a forensic advisor to the Navy and University investigators.

      "One of their own was killed, even if she was a spy. 'We must be wise as serpents, yet as gentle as lambs.' Good advice. I've already contacted people who might be able to help us, without prejudice. At least on their part."

      The Dean nodded. "I'm glad it happened on your watch. I don't think I could be so . . . open-minded."

      "I wasn't driven out of San Diego, I was a Navy man. The harbor changed, the nation we were loyal to changed, the job and its dangers didn't change. As terrifying as a Widow is, if you win, you can usually walk to help, or it can walk to you. The Leviathaness may leave you at the mercy of the sun and sea, who are crueler than any Pokègirl yet born. I can understand them, without liking them," he explained, "The witnesses are isolated and guarded?"

      "The Chair of Warding Magic and four of her best students have barred the way."

      "The other item is that if one of us did this, better to have one of them to blame, when the culprit is found."

      "Agreed. Someone so popular and unpopular, it should make for a difficult case," the Dean said, "That . . . person has been put to the sword, as requested."

      "You verified the S-Goth had nothing to do with it?" the ArchChancellor asked.

      "Yes, peeling back her mind revealed much, but she was blameless in this, and superbly brainwashed to believe she was investigating the murder."

      "I wouldn't put it past them, as a red herring. I don't think she'll enjoy the spirit realm, and discovering what the S-Goths' victims think of her. What of the boy?"

      "He will be undergoing basic instruction and the trial. If he already had a spirit guide, I would have recommended he be advanced to intermediate immediately. His poor, deluded mother seems to have been an excellent instructor for him, before her accident."

      The ArchChancellor nodded. "While it would be wrong to propose this to them, seeming to be coercing their testimony -" He waited for the Dean to nod. "As soon as practicable, have their respective curses studied and repelled."

      "Of course," the Dean told him.

      The ArchChancellor excused himself and left the experts to do their work.

      Returning home will be wonderful, Jenna thought, then smiled, Yes, for the first time, I have a home.

      The Dryder seemed despondent. "I'll . . . miss my kits," she whispered, "But they are better off with a family, then with us traipsing off across the whole League."

      "Traipsing?' Jenna asked.

      "Yes. Didn't you here the order? We're going after the pirates who killed my - the ship I was on."

      "Your 'husband', I didn't think most Leagues acknowledged Pokègirl marriages."

      "It's not what the law says, but how we treated each other," the lady replied.

      "Oh, and I was hoping for a few days . . . rest. Or at least making the house livable," Jenna said with a mischievous gleam.

      "You'll get it," their Master said, "Pirate hunting is canceled for two reasons. One, the pirates tangled with a Navy Q-ship, a warship disguised as a tramp freighter. So they might give some fish indigestion, but that's all the trouble they'll give anybody any more. Second, we've been ordered to proceed to Nuevo Tenochtitlàn, and the University. A direct request from ArchChancellor Isoku Running Star himself."

      "That's unexpected. I thought the University hated the SLIS," Jenna said.

      "They do, but when the Head of the Tantric Magic Department and her best students are doing a ritual, and all die in 'extremely bizarre circumstances, even for that department', we help. Honestly, I suspect they want someone neutral to help shepherd the investigation."

      "Neutral as in 'Everybody hates you equally'," Lady D said sardonically.

      "I think you've hit the nail on the head."

      Jenna limped into the observation lounge. She wore her Master's shirt and a pair of white cotton panties, and a grimace.

      "I'm certain he apologized . . . again," Lady Dectus said sympathetically, "Thinking him unadventurous was just your first mistake. Not simply giving up and enjoying yourself was your second. Your nature to dominate got the better of you, again."

      Jenna growled at the grinning Dryder, who took the sleeping child off her lap and carried it back to the grateful mother and the rest of her quiescent brood. The webbing penning them all in was the Lady's, suspiciously fragile-seeming, but incredibly strong work.

      Same as my strained thigh muscles, Jenna kept to herself.

      "You did challenge me," Lady D said, "And I could have let you go any time. If you'd have asked."

      Side effect of my training a little pain brings the expectation of much more pain. I don't hurt as badly as I seem to, it's each twinge making me expect agony as a follow up, that's the real problem, Jenna didn't say aloud.

      "I'll be fine. I was just getting bored."

      The days I could have spent with my two lovers, and I ruin it the first day, she thought, Even the first hour. Stupid.

      "Oh, little one," came the voice.

      That's something I didn't mind missing, Jenna thought, catching the disproving face of the mother with the children, as the other Succubus aboard the airship entered. Jenna turned and saw the Pokègirl's exaggerated hourglass figure. I'm not jealous, Jenna thought, Just cause the breasts are bigger than even her ego. Just because a healthy twelve-year-old doesn't have a waist that slim, and those hips . . . No, I'm not jealous. But does she have to flaunt it to everyone . . . yes, that's what the breed is for.

      The Succubus wore only a red ribbon, studded with gems, around her throat.

      "How often does she need to shave?" Lady Dectus asked, as she released the woman and her brood, to let them escape to more family-friendly environs.

      Lady D's right, I think she even shaves her eyebrows, Jenna thought as she tried to catch sight of hair, anywhere, on her self-proclaimed friend.

      "Yes, it must be embarrassing to . . . well be underdeveloped."

      Jenna tried and failed to overcome her conditioning to submit to an obvious superior. All I can do is keep silent, she thought as she bunched her Master's shirt in her fists, only the scent of his body surrounding her kept her from bursting into tears, That's all the defiance I can manage.

      "Still." The girl threw her shoulders back and stroked her breasts. "People just don't take me as seriously as they would you. They just sort of look at me with a glazed-over lustfulness, it's terrible when people don't listen. I bet they hang on your every word, a cute, little thing like you."

      "So, you're an Angel are you, one of those Elysians?" Lady D asked as she returned, "They are said to be beautiful but . . . sterile. Like a statue."

      "I'm a Succubus, as if you didn't know." The Pokègirl approached Lady D. "A demonstration of the difference can be - shown."

      "Oh dear, no." Lady D laughed. "I already hurt poor Jenna, and she's more lithe and flexible, and more durable than you appear to be. Things would - just get in the way. We'd just get started at a nice, fast rhythm, and you'd bloody your own nose, or knock yourself unconscious. Where's the fun in that?"

      Jenna couldn't smirk. I know enough to know how such a comment just tears at a Succubus.

      "Jenna!" Lady Dectus called so sharply that Jenna flinched, "That's a terrible attitude, apologize at once!"

      "I'm sorry," came instantly without Jenna even trying.

      "Just because you have a wonderful man wrapped around your finger, and she can't be sure whoever she drags home won't creep away once she falls asleep, is no reason for an attitude like that!" Lady D scolded, although the other Succubus looked worse than Jenna did, "It's not her fault she lacks the real qualifications for the Tantric Magic Department." Lady D's tone softened and she turned to the stricken Succubus. "She is very sorry, aren't you, dear?"

      "I offer my sincere apologies for any offense I've offered," Jenna said, letting the conciliatory nature win for once. She looked up at the other Succubus. I didn't think she could get any paler. She still isn't wearing clothes, but she's truly naked now.

      "Please forgive me."

      "And why implants when Bloom powder or potions must be available at the University?" Lady Dectus asked innocently.

      The Succubus marched out, her head held high, her arrogance all she had left.

      "You are nasty," Jenna commented.

      "I had to listen to that and worse growing up. I learned to turn it back on people, and I saw my Harem-sister needed some rescuing.

      Jenna hugged her lover and her friend, ignoring all the muscle twinges. "How'd did you know about the implants?" Jenna asked, "That surgery is hardly necessary anymore?"

      "First, she was always waving those tits of hers in everyone's face, and never letting anyone touch them," the Lady told her as she cupped Jenna's breasts and softly kneaded them, "And breasts are supposed to be soft and mobile, not two rocks glued to a stick. Implants hurt when squeezed, and form painful scar tissue so even bigger than yours, they aren't as fun to play with."

      Jenna breathed heavily and tightened her arms around her lover's waist. "Let's go back to the cabin and strain something."

      Dectus pulled her hands away. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to strain your self-control. Lunch is in five minutes, and I'm not going to miss it. As for how I knew. Human females used surgery to compete with Pokègirls. When they win in the figure department, they often couldn't do what the men really wanted to do with Pokègirls, it wasn't looking and the surgical scars often made that uncomfortable."

      "Eew."