Buggy Woods was not a safe expanse to cross during the best of times. And though many considered it a shorter route to travel on their ways to and from Pewtit, it wasn’t necessarily the best. Sure, there were attempts to use it as a shortcut for delivers, since the other road around it could add as much as three to four hours to your trip, even if you drove around the protective wall.
But those tapered off when those poor fools learned Bug-types could always find a way. Tires could be shot out or gummed up with webbing. Tracks could be derailed if you dug pits in their path. Even if you had Tamers with you to escort the convoy, it was no guarantee that you would make it out unharmed and with all your supplies. Even the agencies that supplied and maintained the emergency shelters inside the woods took great care, mixing their teams with flight equipment and road transport, as most traps prepared by the ferals tended to fall apart after a while, and Hive activities were closely monitored—no sense in resupplying a shelter the pokégirls had already taken over.
But Buggy Woods was surrounded by a large wall for a reason; and it wasn’t because the contractor had an in with the regional ruler at the time. There was a reason that there were well-defined roads/paths through the woods for people to take on their journeys and attempts to travel or gather bug-types instead of walking through the bush and hoping you didn’t get attacked from all sides or find a trap of some sorts. The roads may not have been much better, but the protections on them usually meant you had a better chance than wondering blindly in the woods. So in the end, most deliveries were made via flight, since even flying bug-types could only go so high or so fast.
And that was the honest truth to all but a few people.
And one of those people was currently walking down a solitary path, her Dominatrix beside her, both carrying thick backpacks: Nodoka Sexum.
She knew she was safe, knew the woods like the back of her hand. She was a Watcher, having spent many days within her own shelter, studying the Bug-types, learning their secrets and such.
Well, that was just her official duties. Unofficially, she was also the main contact for the only Buzzbreast hive within the woods. She had even used a Speech T2 to allow the Buzzqueen to communicate with her.
Nodoka had also used the hive as a staging ground for unwanted pokégirls. After all, the Buzzbreasts did love their plant-types, so those two groups had no problems coexisting together.
It was the other types they had trouble with, but not for Nodoka. Anyone trying to assault the Hive would expect the insect-girls, perhaps even a Plant-type defense or bring their own in case they wanted to claim the Hive—or its queen—as their own.
Not that such a thing was wrong, but it wasn’t good for the Hive. Assaults tended to leave a Hive depleted, lead to the need to determine a new Buzzqueen, and then a need to rebuild the Hive. And since she was on very good terms with the current Buzzqueen and had no desire to be at Ground Zero when a new one might decide to start plucking Tamers up to rebuild their numbers, it made sense to do what she could to secure her ally.
This was especially true as she hoped to earn enough confidence to one day be allowed to witness the entire process that changed a normal Buzzbreast into a Buzzqueen.
Hey, it took a lot of work to maintain a viable ecosystem, especially with the usual ‘caliber’ of Tamers that entered those woods for a quick grab.
Why, looking around, she spotted where some careless driver had—instead of taking the roads like a civilized person—driven right through the woods, damaging them and probably killing a few innocent pokégirls. Not only that, but some Tamer would probably assume it was a protected road—protected against being turned into a death trap—and use it, thus becoming fodder for the local pokégirls. “Such stupid people,” Nodoka muttered.
“Agreed, Mistress,” said Kinshou, shaking her head at the senseless devastation. “Whoever did such a thing should be publicly beaten for such a senseless affront to your efforts here.”
Nodoka nodded. “If the Queen has any Intel and we can find them in the Rest Stops, we’ll have to leave them a nice... present.” Said nice present would be some pokégirls ‘escaping’ the Wall and reducing said vehicle to scrap iron if possible.
“It would appear that now was a perfect time to visit,” offered Kinshou.
Nodoka nodded as they made their way to her private scientific bunker. Once there, they could release a flare to make contact with the Hive and then it would only be a matter of time before they either sent an escort or sent the Queen herself to meet, assuming something wasn’t around that shouldn’t be.
She did know there was something else in the woods, something the Bug-types couldn’t sense to well.
Nodoka also knew it was male. She was using the outside stalls during one hot summer to take a bath. While she soaped herself, her senses screamed to her that a male was watching her... and enjoying it. Since the few Buzzbreasts there didn’t react, she assumed whoever it was wasn’t a threat. And far be it from her to reject the appreciation someone was feeling for her display. Putting an extra bit into her bath to make for an interesting view, she tried to show no signs that she knew someone was peeping on her. It was nice for her to know that a Tamer out there thought someone her age was still sexy enough to be entranced by.
Of course, later on she asked if the girls nearby had seen or heard anything, but they answered truthfully that they had sensed no one. So whoever the Peeping Tom had been must have either had some good equipment or some very compatible Blood Gifts to stay beyond the ability of the Bug-types to sniff out.
So... she left him alone. Unless he did something wrong or something that might lead to harm of the Buggy Woods, she had no reason to pursue the matter. Granted, she knew of a few Blood Gift combinations that could pull off such abilities, which meant tipping her hand was not advisable.
Perhaps I can win him over with my sexual form, she purred mentally. After all, nothing wrong with her trying to garner such a stud’s attention. She was a single woman after all with two sons, a career and a husband legally declared dead the first chance she got. And aside from Taming her assistants and Ash’s own ‘tutoring’, she’d been without a good biological cock in some time.
Damn it; she was still sexy! She shouldn’t be thinking of getting a Dildoqueen this early in her life!
“You are still very sexy, Mistress,” offered Kinshou. She recognized the look on her Tamer’s face, and considering what all they needed to get done today, it was best to head off the redhead’s internal rant. Sure, the sex was mind-blowing, but they didn’t have the time for a long, hard tryst in the woods.
Besides, the damn ferals girls always show up trying to mooch in, she internally grumbled. Sure, her Mistress was strong, but that didn’t mean she wanted every single slut trying to show up and steal a lick.
“Almost there,” said Nodoka, pausing for a moment to see several Cutiepies walk up nearby to her smiling. “Hello dears,” Nodoka said with a smile, patting the small pokégirls on their green heads, being careful to avoid damaging their antennae. “If you could, would you give a message to the Buzzqueen that I will be waiting for her or a messenger at my shelter? I need to ask some questions, and by looking around, I suspect she has much to tell me as well.”
The pokégirls nodded before they took off into the woods. Being those that were born and raised here, they knew the deep woods better than any other creature, save perhaps Nodoka.
“Was it wise to send them out like that, Mistress?”
Nodoka nodded. “She always has some of the Hive doing patrols, especially when unknowns enter her forest. But those sentries will always be willing to listen to the other pokégirls to tell them what they saw. This way, when we get to the bunker, she may already be there waiting for us.”
Kinshou nodded, understanding her Mistress’s reasoning. “Should we have brought your son then?” she asked. “I recall the Buzzqueen did want to meet him after he became a Tamer.”
“True but I may have... accidentally of course... used too much tranquilizer when I took him down. I guess I overestimated the dosage without taking into account his current actions.”
“You mean it hit him faster because he was running full-out down the road?”
“...Yes, that’s right,” admitted Nodoka.
“Well I am sure Azalea and Jetta are watching over him and his pokégirls,” offered Kinshou. “By the time we return, I have no doubt your son’s training will allow him to be fully alert and be Taming at least one of his girls.” Actually, she doubted the boy would even know where he was and the more likely scenario was the girls would be ‘Taming’ him. But that wasn’t the sort of thing her Mistress needed to hear.
“I just hope Maryanne is doing okay while we’re gone,” sighed Nodoka, as they continued on.
Professor Stroak sighed happily as he leaned back in his chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire as he cooked some marshmallows on a stick, enjoying the outdoors experience.
“Hey, can you keep it down!” he yelled towards Rita. “I’m trying to enjoy the outdoor experience here!”
“What outdoors?” yelled the Water-type as she stuck her head out the door from the portable lab, still attached to the large Class-B Challenger II RV. Thanks to Stroak’s desires, she had first set up the chair, started the fire, and was now setting the support struts out for the lab to ensure it didn’t tilt from wind or other such forces during the night. “You have a gas-powered generator on, powering the fan to blow air on you, after you slathered yourself with bug repellant!
“And back away from that fire! You don’t need to catch fire... AGAIN!”
“Well you should have warned me that the bug repellant was flammable. How was I supposed to know?”
“Read the bottle?” she asked with a snort, before ducking back inside the lab to ensure the support struts finished deploying.
“Pushy girl,” muttered Stroak, as he leaned back into his chair. It was hardly his fault that the campsite managers made him spray down the RV before they could enter the grounds—he had no idea so many pokégirls couldn’t avoid his slow trot through the woods. Add to that the filing of paperwork and he had yet to get to Tame his feisty Vaporita.
Pulling back his stick, he noticed how crispy the marshmallows were now the perfect color between mushy and crunchy; just the way he liked it. “Now, where did I put that damned chocolate bar?” he asked, using a free hand to pat himself down looking for it.
He didn’t need the graham crackers—they just got in the way of all that delicious sugar.
“What the...” he muttered, as he felt something crinkle in his coat pocket. Reaching in, he slowly pulled out a sealed letter... addressed to Maryanne.
“...Uh-oh,” he gasped.
HE FORGOT TO LEAVE THE LETTER! The Titmouse would skin him alive. She was always going on about how he never paid enough attention to her and... Well, there was probably other stuff too, but he tended to tune her out after a while. She just went on ... and on ... and on about yadda-yadda-yadda. Really, he didn’t have that sort of free time to deal with her issues.
But this was going to be a big issue.
“What am I worried about?” he said with a smile as he tossed the letter into the fire and resumed patting himself down to find his missing chocolate bar before the marshmallow cooled too much. “I mean, she’s still back at the lab, I’m all the way here at Buggy Woods, what could she do?
“Oh, thanks,” he said, as someone handed him a chocolate bar. Wait… I have one hand in my pocket, one hand holding the stick, and one hand holding the chocolate…
Something is wrong here… Slowly turning his head, he discovered what was wrong.
“I can do ... plenty,” Maryanne rumbled darkly.
“Mommy!” Stroak squeaked.
Rita missed the sounds of the violent thrashing, as she was still setting the trailer’s struts up as well as deploying the systems needed to keep the lab in constant contact with the local networks.
Then again, the mobile lab wasn’t soundproofed to keep outside sounds outside, but inside sounds from getting out.
“I didn’t know a leg could bend that way,” said Jetta, snacking on some popcorn as they watched an angry Titmouse vent her frustrations.
“YEOW!”
“It’s not supposed to ... normally,” said Azalea, before she turned to her side. “And stop writing this down.”
Misty snorted. “Hey, when my Tamer screws up, I want to know the proper way to pay him back. Besides, didn’t Nodoka say she had some plan so Maryanne could get payback without fear of reprisal?”
Jetta shrugged. “You honestly think that man—a man who promised to DNA-convert you to a Water-type somehow—will admit he had his ass handed to him by a Titmouse? That’s like a guy claiming they were seduced by a Snorlass.”
“My daughter is correct,” said Azalea, as the trio continued to watch a marshmallow get shoved where it probably shouldn’t be. “This isn’t the first time Maryanne has thrashed him for his improper care, nor will it be the last.”
“Hey, where are the others?” asked Jetta.
Misty snorted. “The Racks are in the portable healing unit, Galia is passed out in the passenger seat and that Peekabu is in the main bedroom with Ash.”
“Doing what?” Asked Azalea.
“Whatever Feral-born Peekabus do to drugged out Tamers,” shrugged Misty.
“Ah,” nodded Jetta. “I just hope she doesn’t use our cosmetics or clothing, they don’t have enough stretch to fit him.”
“Almost there,” said Nodoka with a smile, as the lanterns began to illuminate the outer-shell of her research post. It was an odd feeling. She could be at the research outpost or her house, both feeling like home and her not wanting to leave either after a day there.
But that wasn’t going to be an option for the moment, not unless her eldest wanted to see where Mommy worked. In which case she was sure she could find more than a few local pokégirls who would love to be in a harem, especially after the reports she had gotten on Ranma before he disappeared.
Ash? Well, he never stated one way or another if he would enjoy a bug-girl. Perhaps she could find a Cutiepie to take back to him; he did need a diversified harem and he did enjoy playing with them when she brought him up here when he was younger.
Ah well, she would worry about that tomorrow. She could always bring him back here for a bit before they left to meet up with Ranma in Pewtit. “Kinshou, remind me when we get back to the RV to send a message to Ranma asking him to stay there, as well as our expected time of arrival. I don’t want him deciding to go running off before I can hug him again.”
“Consider it done, Mistress,” replied the Dominatrix. “But may I suggest we prepare for our imminent meeting,” she finished, pointing to several figures already waiting in front of the outpost.”
Nodoka nodded in agreement as the two made their approach. “Your Highness; I take it the Hive is doing well?”
“Hive izzzzzzz expanded,” replied the Buzzqueen, bowing as well. “Intruderzzzz come to try and take Hive, intruderzzzz now work for Hive.”
“Intruders?” asked Nodoka, concerned.
The Buzzqueen nodded, as a nearby Buzzbreast held up a torn jacket, the familiar symbol on it slowly making Nodoka’s blood boil.
“Team Rocket,” she growled. “So those bastards are trying to get a foothold here.”
“Failed,” replied the Buzzqueen. “Your additionzzzzzz saved Hive; they did not expect additional pokégirlzzzzzz not of Hive. Now they and their girlzzzzz are of Hive.”
“Well, I’m thankful for small miracles,” Nodoka replied. “Their gear?”
The Buzzqueen waved towards the compound door, where a large pile of weaponry and equipment now sat. “Yourzzzzz for all your help.”
“It would appear our budget will not be an issue this year, Mistress,” said Kinshou, as she looked over the pile.
Nodoka nodded. “We’ll put it in the shed until later, we won’t have time to fill out any forms for the moment.” Turning back to the Buzzqueen, she put on a bright smile. “My eldest son has been found.”
The Buzzqueen nodded. “We know; otherzzzz saw. We are thankful he took care of stupid spider girl. Did not know he was your son.”
“Was he okay?” asked Nodoka with concern.
“Wazzzz fine. Spider girl only injure human girl.”
“Zzz, zzzzzz—zzzzzzz!” replied one excitable Buzzbreast.
“Hive sayzzzzz he wazzzzz very good looking,” translated the Buzzqueen. “Bring back to vizzzzit?” she asked, hope in her voice.
“That is the plan,” answered Nodoka. “But I don’t know how long it will take. He may have a Taming Journey planned out. I’m planning on going with him for a while, so I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Izzzz understandable,” the Buzzqueen replied. “Want to reconnect to offspring, very important.”
“Thank you,” said Nodoka with a smile.
“Have giftzzzzzz then,” replied the pokégirl, as several Buzzbreasts emerged from the surrounding trees, leading two heavily bound pokégirls between them.
“Well, this is new,” muttered Nodoka. One didn’t usually see Buzzbreasts have such a negative reaction to Plant-types.
“Attacked human girlzzzzzzz,” replied Buzzqueen. “Danergouzzz if they stay. Offer to human girlzzzzz?”
Nodoka looked at the two Plant-pokégirls. A Weepingbutt and a Vinebra; that did explain it somewhat. Buzzbreast hives as a rule would usually try and eliminate a Weepingbutt in their territory. The fact this one was still alive said more for the Hive’s faith and trust in Nodoka than their own ability to deal with it. It probably also meant that it hadn’t attacked the Hive. As such, the bug-girls had no reason to execute it ... yet.
Vinebra was probably in a similar situation. The Feral-types tended to be sour towards humans and other pokégirls, meaning it wouldn’t fit in too well with the assortment at the Hive. It would probably even start fights with them or even rape several Buzzbreasts to feed.
No; those two left in Buggy Woods would be a problem. Reaching into her backpack, Nodoka grabbed two empty pokéballs. If my son doesn’t want them, perhaps one of the girls will. Nodoka herself knew of the satisfaction of taking down a pokégirl who had bested you before in battle.
And I never regretted making her mine, smiled the redhead, turning slightly to smile at the visible backside of her Dominatrix as she went through the loot. “Oh, I’m sure I can find them a new home.”
On the outskirts of Douchsiabag City stood a small building, its sides covered in quick repair work and showing multiple signs of damage from within as much as from the outside. This was the laboratory of the famous Professor Steamhead, famous researcher and inventor.
It was also a sight where the Jeremy of this world had just finished fighting for his very life against things better left never being thought up.
Jeremy panted heavily, cuts and lashes crossing his body and torn clothes, as he stared at the modified Master Pokéball, all that had ended Professor’s Steamhead’s newest creation’s rampage of death and destruction. Adrenalin was already slowly breaking down in his system, making him shake slightly. “I ... I can’t believe that worked,” he muttered. Who knew his idea to modify pokéballs to hold things other than pokégirls would work?
“Is it gone?” asked Steamhead, poking his head up from behind an overturned table.
“No,” said Jeremy, slowly getting back to his feet.
“Excellent!” shouted Steamhead, as he stood up, a large mechanical device now strapped to his back. “Now it will face my greatest weapon: my steam-powered lightning gun!” he yelled. “MWAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“...Won’t you just get electrocuted from the condensation on the wand or the steam exhaust?” asked Jeremy.
“Hmm... perhaps,” said Steamhead, as he took it off. “But to defend this noble place that we use to expand the knowledge of things man was meant to know, I thank you for risking yourself to defeat this unholy creation!” he finished, offering the backpack to Jeremy.
“Fuck that!” cried Jeremy. No way did he want to be the victim of ten thousand volts ... again ... this week. “I caught it in that modified Master Pokéball I was telling you about.”
“Really?” asked the disbelieving professor, as he slowly edged closer to the ball in question, watching as it occasionally twitched and rolled around, as if it held a pokégirl striving to get out. “You mean it worked? Damn; thought I built it better than that.”
“The pokéball was my project!” screamed Jeremy.
“Not it, my invention,” sighed Professor Steamhead sadly. “Oh, I gave it the best work I could have done, yet to see it taken down with a simple pokéball… it makes a man cry!”
“... It was TRYING TO KILL US!”
“Details, details,” waved off Steamhead. “Hmm, I’ll have to make some modifications in the next model to prevent that…”
“OH HELL NO!” said Jeremy, grabbing the elder scientist by his lab coat and proceeding to shake the hell out of him. “You will never make another one of these things; do you hear me? We barely made it through this one alive and survived by sheer dumb luck! This line of research ends right now!”
“But I can do better!” squeaked the man, dangling slightly in the air. “I promise the next one won’t try and slaughter us without mercy!”
“I don’t want to be slaughtered with mercy either!” screamed Jeremy. “I want to live, damn it! LIIIIIIVE!!!”
“Fine,” sighed Steamhead, as Jeremy dropped him to the ground. “Stop crying about it; I swear kids today have no sense of adventure in them, always crying when something tries to kill you or rip your body apart. Why, back in my day—”
“Don’t make me shake you again,” growled Jeremy.
“All right, whatever,” said Steamhead, “I won’t build another of those.” And it was true, you never rebuilt a bad model; you built a better one. “Now, get a broom and start cleaning!”
“So where should we ... dispose of it?” asked Jeremy nervously. He knew the moment Steamhead heard ‘we’ that the dear Professor would take that to mean ‘Jeremy only’. “How about a volcano?”
“How about dropping it off ... at the IRS building over at Indigo Plateau?” Bastards were saying he owed 15 SLCs in back taxes, but he distinctly remembered writing a check for 19 SLCs to them ... was it last decade?
“But Professor Steamhead,” shouted Jeremy, “that’s not a volcano!”
“Fine, fine ... pussy,” snorted the aged professor. “Then take it to Mt. Ember on One Island, make sure the damn thing hits the lava and sinks! I don’t want that thing surviving and being found by some idiot or unleashed by a pokégirl.”
“Got it,” said Jeremy, as he wearily stood up. Maybe Assrial could fix his wounds before they headed out. “Where are the keys to the crawler?”
“Um ... heh-heh,” said the suddenly nervous man.
“...What did you do?” asked Jeremy.
“Well, I needed some of the shielding for an invention I am working on and I—”
“You tore apart my vehicle?” screamed Jeremy. “Do you have any idea how much that thing cost!? Assrial will kill me!”
“Don’t worry,” said the Professor. “I can have it put back together before you get back, better than before!” Maybe… I’m not sure where I put that engine block… “Until then, take the Class-D Scootie Jr. Truck Camper!” he said cheerfully, tossing Jeremy the keys … which he let drop to the floor in shock.
“You’ve got to be fucking with me!” cried the man.
“What? It is a perfectly fine transport, good fuel economy, plenty of room to Tame that fine Skunkette of yours. You know, she could use a little more exercise. She shouldn’t have love handles like that until she’s had a few children.”
“Assrial is not fat!” Jeremy yelled. “Okay, we both could stand to lose a few pounds and all, but the Jr.?” he asked. “Can’t we at least take the Class-C Scootie Sr. RV? That thing’s got a couple of, oh I don’t know... GUNS on it...”
“Please! You’ll be fine, Jeremy! All you’re doing it taking a small trip... and besides if worse comes to worse...” he looked at the Master Pokéball and suppressed a shudder, “you can always release... THAT!”
“Oh, really great choice: death from outside or death from within,” muttered Jeremy, looking at the still pokéball on the floor.
“Well ... off you go,” said Steamhead, grabbing the keys, the pokéball, shoving them into Jeremy’s hands, and forcing the man out of the lab. “Have fun, consider it a new taming adventure, see the world, lose some weight, and melt down the abomination and threat to all life before it breaks free— a fun time to be had for all!”
“Breaks free?” squeaked Jeremy.
“Well, no one has ever seen how long a non-pokégirl entity can be held in a converted pokéball, now have they,” said Steamhead, sounding far wiser than he actually was. “Just make sure the ball stays charged and you don’t accidentally release the apocalypse upon us all. Now go act like a crazy kid!”
Slamming the door shut, the professor slammed several security bars into place, before releasing his breath and leaning against the door. “Well, that’s done!
“Now ... how can I make a better one ... that won’t kill all that crosses its path?” he murmured as he returned to his nearly destroyed lab. “Man, someone should clean this up? Where the hell is that other assistant of mine?”
He heard a small series of ‘drip’ sounds and turned his head. He saw the remains of said assistant smushed into the ceiling, what little bodily fluids left splattering onto the floor in a slow trickle. “Oh yeah...” Professor Steamhead mumbled, bringing his right hand to the top of his head and scratching. “Shit. How am I going to clean this mess?”
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(Posted Mon, 12 Jan 2009 21:53)
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