1.1K results

Ava stood closely behind her friend Scout, watching over her shoulder with a studied focus as she punched in the code to disarm the alarm. She punched 5072 plus a couple of other non-numerical buttons into the keypad and then two beeps followed in response to signify that the system had been disarmed. Ava repeated back the combination over and over in her mind to commit it to memory. She had been waiting a few days for an opportunity to witness this and now that she had she could proceed with her plan. Scout collected a few items from behind the countertop and then disappeared through a back door which was for staff only. She had left the door ajar and Ava edged deeper into the room to get a peak at what stood behind. She continued forward all the way to the door and then pushed it open fully. Scout was bent down on her haunches and rooting through a chest of drawers. Her long chestnut hair kept falling down into her face and she had to keep uprooting her hands from the drawers to brush it back behind her ears. Ava surveyed the room which she had not seen before. It was small and cramped with furnishings too big and bulky for the space available. The drawers which Scout were digging through encroached obtrusively into the room and a pine wood desk and office chair were wedged in against the back wall. Along the right hand wall was another bulky piece of shelving which housed a blocky printer, reams of paper, ink cartridges and other office supplies along with a variety of picture frames with photos of Scout’s mother and father in the bakery. She picked up the picture frame that she was drawn to the most. It was a candid photo of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis - Scout’s parents, the proprietors of the establishment; the local bakers -  they both had a large mixing bowl in hand and were smiling joyfully as they kneaded a mixture into dough. They looked a lot younger, it was maybe a photo taken twenty or twenty five years ago, back when they were probably only starting out with the bakery.  In the time since Mr and Mrs Lewis had cemented a fine reputation for themselves and had grown to be respected pillars of the community. Ava knew that she was privileged to be a friend of the family, although through this closeness she had gotten to know the Lewis's more intimately and knew that they were far from perfect, which is often how they were perceived to be. Like anyone, they were capable of bickering and squabbling and gossiping. They had their own flaws. The chest of drawers slammed closed and Scout jolted back up into a standing position with an assortment of papers in hand. “Okay, I got what I need”. Ava returned the picture frame to the shelf and turned to leave along with Scout. She had a final look over her shoulder before exiting to capture anything else that might be of interest in the room. The only other thing of note was a window that was set high on the wall and looked out onto the alleyway above. It wasn’t much of a view and probably offered very little natural light during daytime. Scout then closed the door behind them. She reset the alarm - 5072 plus a combination of what might have been the same non-numerical buttons or different ones - it was hard to be sure. She switched off the lights and they stepped outside the front door. Scout started fumbling with a set of maybe five or six keys, trying to find the right one for the door.  "Dad would kill me if I lost these". Ava scoffed but Scout was not being light hearted. "Seriously though, he was so pissed the other night. It was like I'd burned the building down or something". "I'm sorry" responded Ava, readjusting her tone to match what she had heard. Scout jammed down on the handle two or three times to ensure it was locked and could not be opened before removing the key. "Your a witness. This door was locked". Scout looked burdened by the whole ordeal and was speaking flippantly.  Ava reached forward and pulled sharply down on the handle twice to demonstrate what they already knew to be true. "Its definitely locked" she added, stating the obvious. Scout was satisfied and they turned away into the crisp night air. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A FEW DAYS EARLIER, Ava had been confronted with a moral choice. Scout’s set of keys to the bakery had fallen out of her handbag and slipped down between the cushions of the sofa as she was collecting her things to leave. Ava had seen this happen but had first hesitated and then chosen not to intervene. This surprised her; telling Scout was clearly the right thing to do and a natural instinct that she would have expected from herself or any other decent person. But in this moment a second perspective clouded this judgement, something more devious and deceitful and opportunistic. It was as though the thought had been implanted in her mind by some external entity, because it did not seem like her, but she thought at that moment that she could break into the Lewis’s bakery. It was only a thought but the seed began to grow rapidly as she began to imagine the possibilities of what she could have by keeping the keys. Carbs had long been the bane of Ava’s diet and she had vowed on many occasions to cut them out completely, but she could only ever sustain the habit for a matter of weeks, maybe a month. At this time she had been just a week without carbs and already her cravings were intensifying. It seemed that her resilience grew weaker with every reset. As she toyed with the set of keys in her hands she imagined indulging in a private midnight feasting at the Lewis’s bakery. She fantasised over the mouth-watering selection of sweets that lived there; the rose cupcakes and their delectably light puff pastry casing that would flake when bitten before your tongue could reach the jammy centre, or the cinnamon swirls packed with brown sugar filling and glazed with the vanilla cream cheese, the glazing would drip into the middle soaking every single bite, there was also savoury treats which offered balance to the taste buds and could help stretch ones appetite further, the honey mustard sausage rolls, the ham and cheese muffins, the bacon and sweetcorn zucchini slices. Ava spiralled deeper and deeper into this fantasy to a point of obsession. She knew what she desired and knew that she could have it. Scout called later to ask if she had seen her keys anywhere; without a second thought, Ava responded no. —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE NIGHT AFTER Ava had learned the alarm code from observing Scout she decided to make her move. 5072, 5072, 5072, she repeated over in her mind - plus two buttons: centre then left of centre. Was that to unset or set - maybe it was the other way around? It didn't matter, she had the numbers and surely that was most important.  She walked briskly to the bakery. The night was mild and she regretted wearing a coat, the temperature should have cooled by now she thought - but it hadn't and she could feel beads of sweat tickle their way down her back. A light fog hung in the air and covered her path. The fog carried a dull glow, incubating the light cast by the moon and the street lamps to create an enchanting yellow hue. She didn't cross paths with another person on her journey - this was good and also unsurprising given it was nearing midnight. When she arrived at the bakery she reached into her coat pocket and took out the keys. She couldn't tell which key was the right one, so began the process of trial and error. She jammed in the first key but it wouldn't turn; nor did the second or third. She only had three so circled back to try the first once more but again it didn't turn. She tried the second and third again, but nothing. She was growing frustrated with the situation. What was going on? Were these not the keys to the bakery? But they had to be. Scout had practically confirmed it when she had called asking after them. She had also told her that her father was angered by the fact she had lost them. She was beyond doubt that she was holding the keys to the bakery - the only possibility, she thought, was that they were keys for another door and then she rembered again that Scout had held a ring of five or six keys the other night when locking up and now she only held three. These were different. She moved around the side of the store. A sloped path ascended uphill and led her to an alleyway at the reverse side of the bakery. When she got there she didn't find another door, but instead a window. It was the same window she had noted before leaving the office the other day. She hunkered down but felt restricted by her coat so rose again to unzip it and then lowered again and peered through. The room looked as they had left it, cramped and unappealing. There was a keylock on the window so she tried the keys again. The lock looked small so she picked the smallest key from her set of three. It clicked in seamlessly and twisted clockwise. She pushed it open and thought about how best to get inside. She flung her legs down facing forward into the bakery and shimmied forward on her bum but found this approach to be awkward; she backed up and removed her coat which was adding unwelcome padding and then flipped over - her bum now facing upwards - and reversed blindly into the room. It was a clumsy manoeuvre, her bum bumped the window frame as she moved and it was difficult guiding her hips into place. But it worked.   She lowered down until her feet met the pine wood desk that was near pressed against the wall. Her linen shirt got stuck beneath her in the manouvere. It pulled upwards as though wanting removal before catching just below her breasts. Her soft midsection waited bare for the rest of her to follow but once she had the shirt did not drop down of its own accord instead holding its place in a series of creased folds, so she unrolled it back as it should be and swept her hands across her stomach a couple of times to flatten out the creases. She then pulled through her coat which still lay outside and closed the window over and locked it shut with the key. She slowly exhaled a calming breath in an effort to recalibrate and cool herself down. A sweaty slickness had emerged at her brow and at the back of her neck and her shirt was a little damp from where her body had been perspiring. It hadn't been quite as straightforward as she had planned but she had arrived. After taking a moment to re-centre she then moved out from the office and into the bakery. The shutters were down so she would not be visible to anybody should they be passing by. This gave her total freedom over the space in the bakery. On the server's side of the glass counter there was sliding doors which were locked. She did not have the key and for a moment feared that all her efforts would have been in vain, but she then seen a small set of keys beneath the till which clicked in and opened the lock. She slid the doors open and reached in tentatively towards the rose cupcakes, taking just one initially. There was a brief moment of anticipation as she drew the cupcake towards her mouth - I'm actually doing this. She bit in and the pastry crumbled delicately between her lips. Quickly after she took another bite and reached the jammy centre and let the fruity flavours ooze in her mouth. She finished the cupcake in two more quick bites - there was no need to savour the taste, instead she was chasing more and more as her supply was practically limitless. She licked away the sugary film which coated her lips and began plucking more treats from the counter and eating them. She took to eating in batches, gathering three or four items to work through at a time. She gathered many batches; so many and so frequently that it started to feel like a constant stream of eating without pause. It was like a factory assembly line, a conveyor belt of eating. She mixed between sweet and savoury to sustain the interest of her pallet as her stomach grew heavy and burdened with all that she consumed. It began expanding the more she ate putting her shirt buttons under considerable strain. She rubbed the side of her stomach to sooth the bloated feeling but didn't take this as a sign to halt her eating in anyway. One of the middle buttons of her shirt had popped loose and scattered somewhere across the floor. The shirt had become very stretched and had risen upwards against the expansion of her midsection. Her plump hips and belly were now exposed and she had unbuttoned her jeans as well to ease the pressure choking around her waist. She massaged her belly with both hands, groaning as she done so. Maybe she was finally done.   Pastry flakings now littered the countertop. She brushed them to the floor and leaned down to close over the glass door to the display case. It ached to fold forward when she was this bloated.The display counter looked very bare now, having been full when she arrived. Her visit would not go unknown, there was an abundance of evidence to suggest a burglary had taken place, she just needed to ensure that it couldn't be tied back to her. She closed the counter and rubbed her belly once more. She was all but done, she thought. She stepped heavily out from behind the counter and back towards the office. There was another door which led to the kitchen - I better have a look here before I go - she thought. She pulled down the handle but the door was locked, yet again. She jerked down on the handle again twice, not in any expectation that it would open by applying more force, but in a rather mocking way like she had done before with Scout when she was locking up - it was like she was protesting the fact that the door was locked, she could understand the need to lock the external doors, but the door to the kitchen as well as the glass display counter seemed excessive - it was surprising that the office door had remained open despite all this added security. However, as she jerked down pointlessly on the handle to the locked door she suddenly triggered the alarm. A loud and instant noise filled the room igniting a sharp sense of fright in Ava. She swivelled around and hurried to the keypad mount on the wall to disarm it. The wailing sound of the siren induced a sense of stress and urgency. 5072 - she punched in the numbers but the siren continued to ring loudly. She punched in the two buttons - left centre then centre - without much thought. The alarm continued. She tried sequencing them in reverse and then hammered in the code again, frantically entering in a  variety of combinations as well as the same ones she had tried over again. It was desperate and it felt as though the alarm had been ringing for a considerable time now. She was going to get caught if she couldn’t kill it soon. Maybe it was already too late, she thought. The stress of the situation had made her sweat once more and her breathing had become laboured. After trying again and again eventually the alarm stopped. She drew out a deep sigh of relief. She was confused as to what had triggered it in the first place. Whatever the cause, she was relieved that it had now stopped.  She had been panicked out of her lazy state and was less focused on rubbing her aching belly and more concerned with escaping the scene before the Lewis’s or the police arrived. She didn’t know what the standard protocol was for a triggered alarm, but suspected that Mr. Lewis would be extra vigilant knowing that he had a set of keys missing. The Lewis's did not live far away from the bakery either, if Mr Lewis wanted he could be here in a matter of minutes. Ava acted fast. Adrenaline was coursing through her body and she climbed up on top of the pine desk and fiddled the keys between her fingers, searching for the small one and the  wedging it roughly into the keylock. She twisted it clockwise and swiftly pulled the window open; the jarring sound of the alarm exploded back into noise once more. Oh Shit; the words whispered from her mouth despairingly, like a runaway fugitive that had at long last been cornered by the authorities after a lengthy car chase. She could afford only a moment to contemplate whether she go back to the alarm to disarm it again or just try to escape with it ringing and hope for the best. It was difficult to make an attentive decision with the commotion swirling in her ears but she decided to move forward and poked both arms straight through the open window, outstretched and pointing, almost like how a diver would approach the water having left the springboard, but for the fact that her hands weren't meeting in the middle and instead touching flat down on the cobble path of the alleyway. She pulled her head and shoulders through. The sound of the alarm was almost amplified from the outside, rebounding off the hard surfaces in the alleyway.  Ava began heaving her body forward, huffing and puffing as she done so. Her belly was painfully full and bloated making the squeeze distinctively more uncomfortable than it had been on her way in. The buttons of her shirt grazed closer to the window frame. As she dragged herself forward they started scraping against the flat of the wall and snapping from their threads and bursting off the shirt. Fuck, she screamed loudly in her mind. It would be harder to escape incognito with her bare belly bouncing around. Maybe If I zip up my coat nobody will know —- Fuck! —--- My coat! Ava didn't have it. She had left it inside. Whatever about crumbs and loose shirt buttons - they pointed to the crime but not necessarily to the culprit, but her coat, this was unmistakably hers and would confirm her guilt. The alarm seemed to sear louder and more aggressively into her ears as her dilemma conpounded. She had no choice but to return back for it, although she hardly believed she could afford the time. Leaving it there would only defer the inevitable, whereas retrieving it offered at least a slim chance that she could escape. After all, her panic was largely driven by the assumption that Mr Lewis would respond immediately to the alarm. Perhaps he would be more careless, she hoped. She pressed her palms firmly into the cobblestone path and started heaving in the reverse direction. She was straining hot and bothered and would be pooling in her sweat  but for the cool midnight breeze that helped wick it away from her reddened face. Something was very wrong though. Despite all her efforts, grunts and groans, she could not budge from her place in the window. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck? This was bad. She wriggled her torso in an attempt to dislodge herself. She was confused as to why she couldn't undo what she had done. She could feel the weight of her belly hanging heavily down from her hips, large as it may be, it was free from the window and not causing the blockage. She huffed and puffed and huffed. The alarm continued screaming. She wrestled around further, pushing and pulling but couldn't budge as much as an inch. She was stuck.  She lay there unable to do much but continue pushing in vain. It was clear she was getting nowhere. The persistent noise of the alarm pierced away at her senses. Time ticked by and she could seemingly do nothing other than wait to be caught. Eventually the sound of the alarm ceased. This gave space to more nuanced sounds of doors opening and footsteps approaching. She was about to be caught. And in some state as well. A considerable amount of time had passed since her initial rush to escape. If she hadn't been too fat she would have certainly escaped in good time. But sadly for Ava, it was this most important variable that she had given least consideration. She waited worried of what might follow.  ‐–‐—-------------------------------------------------- MR. LEWIS entered the bakery very flustered. He moved hurriedly with wide vigilant eyes. He was stressed and looked like a man under threat. Trailing behind him was a more diminutive Scout, shrinking in his shadow. She felt responsible, or at least had been primed to feel that way by her father.  Scout watched her father move to the counter and then duck swiftly out of view as he stooped down to inspect the till. He twisted a key into the lock and rattled it open. There was money inside; he exhaled a breath of relief - "They took nothing" he confirmed. He had thought the worst. Scout approached the counter from the other side. She could see that practically all the baked goods were gone. The display was near empty. Reluctantly she began to speak these words of notice to her father, knowing that his reaction could be bad. "They took something" she said. Mr. Lewis's eyes had fallen upon a loose shirt button. He had stooped down to pick it up and returned to meet Scout's eyes with it held between his fingers. "Look" he said, presenting the button. Scout observed with a worried expression. "Look" she said back to him - she pointed towards the display case. Mr. Lewis stepped back for a clearer view and could see that it was empty. His eyes panned back and forward between the button he held and the vacant space in the display cabinet, as though he was trying to connect both pieces of information and come up with an explanation. Scout braced herself for the explosive reaction she assumed would come from her father, but he was too consumed by the mystery of what had happened to express any anger. He moved out from the display desk and spotted another button scattered close to the office door. He followed it with curious intent, as though it were a trail, and as he approached he discovered that in some ways it was. The office door was slightly ajar and he pushed it open. Through the shadowy darkness he could see an unfamiliar shape occupying the back wall. He thought his eyes must be fooling him, but believed he was seeing the outline of someones backside bent over and somehow suspended. He clicked on the light to illuminate the scene and was shocked to find  that his half-blind judgement had been proved correct. A rather round backside hung suspended from the wall, clothed in denim jeans and with a chunky pair of thighs. It was a females rear, of this he was sure. It was too round and shapely, too captivating to his eye - he could see the tails of a lavender coloured shirt pulling through the window frame and struggling to cover a feminine looking lower back and considerably plump set of hips. The loose buttons he held must have come from this shirt he thought. He didn't know what to do for a moment, other than stare. Scout arrived on his shoulder and let out a small gasp at the sight. She didn't know what to do either. There was something very familiar about this bottom to her, and she was nervous that she might just know its owner. She then noticed a coat to her left which was even more familiar - Ava's coat! She was certain. There was a lump in her throat. The situation was about to become increasingly more awkward. She would be guilty by association, at least in her father's eyes. But at this moment Mr. Lewis was not angry, but transfixed - he moved right up to the bottom, seeing clearer now how her plump body clogged the window frame. He stared at it from close range and then poked a lecturing finger firmly into the centre of her ass cheek. He wanted to make it known to whomever it was, that they had been caught and were in trouble.  Ava's face turned white. She was in desperate circumstances and didn't know how things might develop from here. She could hear verbal grumblings inside passing between Scoutt and Mr. Lewis, presumably discussing her fate. She could hear her name - Ava. Ava? - first spoken by Scoutt and then repeated by Mr. Lewis. They knew it was her. Her face was frozen with anticipation, concentrated on the conversation that was unfolding.  The fat little pig! Mr. Lewis spat the words and then repeated them. What a fat greedy swine. There was no response from Scout, she couldn't react, or didn't know what the appropriate response might be given the context and her relationship with Ava and that of her father. Mr. Lewis poked a reprehensible finger deep into the middle of Ava's plump buttcheek once more causing her to squirm in slight discomfort. Ummmmm, she groaned - the sound vibrating out of her body as Mr. Lewis deepened his press. How dare you - Mr. Lewis pinched a bare wedge of belly fat which cushioned betweened the wall and her thighs - Oohhh, Ava groaned again, higher pitched this time with her hips and buttocks rising with the sound and her heels lifting from the desk onto her tippy toes. How dare she, directing his words back towards Scout. As he locked eyes with Scout he started to think what part she may have potentially played in this. His face tightened with scrutiny. Did you put her up to this? I did not! She responded hastily. I would never. Ava could hear these accusations and only now was starting to feel some modicum of guilt. There was some further squabbles back and forward and then she could hear footsteps moving away from her and out of the room. After a moment the sound of footsteps returned, this time on pavement and coming towards her into the alleyway. She looked up from her low position on the path as Mr. Lewis appeared towering above her. Scoutt shadowed and looked disconcertingly from behind him. "Explain yourself" Mr. Lewis demanded. He spoke sternly with arms crossed. Ava brushed part of her fringe away from her reddening face. She felt more humiliated having to confront them face to face. She looked to Scout hoping she might be able to intervene in some way but she appeared stunned as well. "You've eaten all my supply for tomorrow" Mr. Lewis didnt raise his voice, but spoke more gravely. There was impact to his words and it was clear her was being very serious. "And if I'm not mistaken… which I'm not … you appear to be stuck in my office window". "We don't know for sure that she's stuck Dad", Scout countered feebly.  "Sure we do. You've seen the other end, havent you? Too fat to fit it seems. Why else would she be dangling there - Isn't that right?" He targeted this last question squarely at Ava. She gulped. "Yes". Her face was flushed and she struggled to speak many words more in that moment but there was space lingering for her to say something more. "I'm sorry". Mr. Lewis' face tightened again with prominant frowns apprearing on his forehead. "Not half as sorry as you will be" he then walked back down the alley leaving Scout and Ava looking at one another wondering what he was planning next. "Wait there" Scoutt said, forgetting for a moment that Ava couldn't move if she tried - she swiftly followed after he father. Ava waited anxiously. She tried her best to listen to what Scout asked of her father and what he was saying back but their conversation was out of earshot and unclear. Eventually, Mr. Lewis returned alone. "There'll be a price to pay for this" he said, speaking definitively. Ava looked up with a worried expression. "What's going to happen to me?" Mr. Lewis furrowed his brows. He was unsympathetic and thought Ava's question to be selfish. "We'll get you out, but not without having to break in the wall". Ava could hear the annoyance in his voice. She didn't know how he intended to do this and presumed it would cost his business in some capacity. "How long will that take" Ava asked. Her question trailed off into a mumble as she feared mid sentence that it might be interpreted as demanding and provoke him. "As long as it takes". He then walked off.  Ava was again left waiting and for how long she didn't know. Mr. Lewis had been aloof in his detail, deliberately so - omission as a means of punishment, he thought. Again she felt a touch upon her bottom, smaller and more gentle hands this time, it was Scout this time she thought, she was almost certain. She could feel her knuckles brush into her skin as she gripped underneath the tight bind of her jeans waistband. Wait, why is she pulling at my jeans?  Ava froze as Scout rolled back her jeans, her face was still with ponderous thought. Ava's panties rolled back with the jeans and were on course to disappear completely into the folds of denim as Scout pulled them back, but she pinched them in place and strapped them across her bottom before they got lost in the process. Initially at a loss for what Scoutt was doing, she then concluded that it must be part of the process of getting her out. Of course! She probably has to grease me up or something. This brief sense of euphoria was quickly shrouded with further mortification. I'm so stuck that she needs to grease me to release me…  Scout was a bit overwhelmed with what she was facing. My goodness she is wide. She peeled back her jeans all the way to her calfs leaving her thick thighs and buttocks exposed. She was jiggly and plump. Scout brought the back of her hand up to Ava's hind. She placed the tips of her fingernails in the joint of her leg where her calves met her thighs and started moving her fingers around in small circles eliciting a ticklish sensation. Ava squirmed, trying to chase away the sensation, but she couldn't. Her bottom bounced excitedly, she clenched her legs trying to brace her skin for the touch but this did nothing in the way of resistance. Scoutt stroked her fingernails up Ava's meaty thighs and Ava rattled into the window frame, jumping from her hips, electrified, trying to escape the tickling but cruelly shackled in place.  Ava clenched her fingers and shook her head side to side, trying as best as she could to contain herself from the relentless surge of ticklish probing at her lower half. She was biting her bottom lip and her skin was pimpling with goosebumps as she became more and more aroused by the incessant stroke of Scout's titillating fingers. She had started laughing uncontrollably and was sure she would attract some unwanted attention if this was to continue. Just as she got used to the feeling and thought she had found a way to cope Scout would then move her fingers elsewhere, down or between her thighs or into the crevices of her belly folds. It would resurrect the sensation again and have her squealing for mercy once more. It was unbearable. "Stop! Please, please stop!" Ava was begging. She sounded every bit as desperate as she appeared to be. Unexpectedly, Scout submitted. "You're the one who needs to stop!" she retaliated. "Do you have any idea what you're putting me through?" Putting her through? What about me! But Ava didn't respond. She did not hold much power in this dynamic and had to be careful with what she said. She shaped her mouth to say something but couldn't speak words of any purpose - Scout cut in again. "You probably think that you have it bad. But my father will never forgive me for losing those keys and allowing this to happen." Scout's voice was straining. She was speaking the truth and the emotional toll could be heard in her words.  "It's not your fault. I will speak to him".  Scout scoffed at this pitiful proposal. "And you think he will listen? To him you are a fat lazy thief now. He won't want to hear from you on anything". Ava couldn't respond. There was nothing to say. A brief moment passed. She then belched loudly; the noise rumbled from her stomach and vibrated up through her body and caught her entirely by surprise. "Uh … erm … excuse me".  The words scrambled with uncertainty from her mouth. What a fat pig thought Scout. "You are getting less than half of what you deserve". She then unleashed a firm reprimanding slap across her buttocks. Ava squelled a sharp Ouch! "You choose" proposed Scout. "Tickles or slaps?!" Ava couldn't decide and so endured both for the minutes following. Each sensation was excruciating in its own way and she wished deeply that she had never dared such a heist in the first place. Mr. Lewis reappeared in the alleyway, this time with another man who looked to be an uninformed policeman or someone of authority. He had an aura.  "There she is" Mr Lewis stated in mild disgust. Ava looked up at the men. Her eyes were wet with teardrops, half from crying with laughter and half from crying due to the stinging sensation of Scout's hands slapping across her bare bottom. Her lower lip was quivering as she awaited for them to speak further. The other man peered down at her with a studied expression.  " ….. I see" he finally said, still processing the unusual nature of the situation. "And let me be clear, you are certain she is stuck?" Another firm slap from Scout stung Ava's ass. "Arggh!" She winced aloud, sharply diverting Mr. Lewis's attention from what they were discussing.  Scout's fingertips crawled in around Ava's belly and stroked her provocatively in especially sensitive areas causing her to giggle unwillingly. She looked bemused and the men could not make head nor tail of her behaviour being blind to what was happening to her at her rear. "See what madness I'm dealing with?" Said Mr. Lewis. The man gave a vague nod of understanding and then they both cleared the scene. Ava remained isolated in the alley way for the next hour. A litany of noises, sounds and prodding hands from back inside the bakery would be her only sense of company during this period. The torturous tickling and sanctimonious slapping had passed and the process of removing her from the scene had begun. A slippery, saucey lubricant had been applied around her midsection and thighs and she had been pushed again and again and moved a little each time but not enough to give evidence that she could be freed from the window this way. Mr. Lewis was determined not to cut into the wall and cause any structural damage but it soon became apparent that this sacrifice would be necessary. Ava could hear more noise and believed that more men had arrived in the bakery to initiate the next phase. Drills and other tools were motoring up and into the wall to cut her out from the predicament. As the gap in the wall widened open Scout appeared in the alleyway to take her hand and lug her up and a set of hands grabbed her Ava's ass cheeks and reefed her forward and suddenly she was stuck no more with her knees on the cobbled path and her midsection unchoked by the window frame. Her body was slick and slimey with sweat and lubricants. Her panties had been swallowed between her cheeks and her open shirt plastered loosely against the wet coat of substances slapped across her skin. She gathered to her feet awkwardly, pulling her jeans up as she rose. The material struggled up her thighs and jammed in the middle of her chunky hips. She did not try to zip them up and button them closed as she knew that this would not be possible. The fat bulging face of her belly hung forward prominently from the rest of her body.  The other man who had arrived with Mr. Lewis returned with handcuffs. He was in fact an officer. "I'm not going to use these. But I think you know what they mean", he said. Ava gulped. She followed the man down the sloped path back to the front of the bakery where a squad car was parked out front as well as Mr. Lewis who stood in front of her own vehicle. Scout trailed them both at a safe distance as though trying to remove herself from the situation. The officer opened the back door to the squad car and beckoned Ava forward. She sat in and belted up and the officer closed the door after her. He said somethings to Mr. Lewis but she could not hear the words. They both nodded at each other and appeared to be in agreement over something. The officer then jumped into the drivers seat and started the car and drove off.  "My god. I've had some unusual calls in my time. But this is right up there". The officer glanced occasionally back at Ava through the rear view mirror as he spoke, interested to see her reaction. "I mean you're a pretty girl Ava" he continued, holding his gaze in the mirror a little longer in anticipation of a reaction that never came. "You ain't no thief anyway", he added, a little disappointingly having not recieved the engagement he had hoped for. "Am I going to like … jail?" Ava asked nervously. The officer scoffed. "You're going home". "Really?" Ava was shocked.  "Honestly, we wouldn't even know what to do with you if we took you to the station tonight" he laughed. "All that we would do is put the donuts there at risk, right?" He laughed harder, amusing himself greatly as he joked. Ava blushed and tried to pull her shirt together shlyly but remembered that she couldn't. She clasped her hand together across her stomach to hide her gut as best she could. The squad car pulled up outside Ava's house. The officer killed the engine and stepped outside and came around to open Ava's door at the back. He offered her a hand to help her out of the car and her gut wobbled jelly-like before her as she touched down in the driveway and the breeze drew her shirt open. The officer looked her up and down from the base of her belly up to her breasts and then to her face. He dismissed her away to the house with a directive nod of the head. She looked downward, almost shamefully as she began to move but the officer halted her in her tracks by extending his hand in a stop sign which was bumped by Ava's rotund stomach. It felt firm and bloated against his hand and he imagined how uncomfortable it must have been to be stuck and how straining it must continue to be to lug it around. She looked up shyly to meet his eyes. "I'll be keeping an eye on you", said the officer. They continued to look at each other, maintaining eye contact but without further words or change of expression. The officers hand remained pressed against Ava's belly and he could feel it fill with air and release as she breathed. He could also feel gurgles and other disturbances bubble in her stomach, squelching restlessly to digest the mammoth amount she had eaten. He noticed for the first time how tired her eyes now looked. The volume of food she was working to digest was exhausting her. It became clear to him that she was almost drifting away at this point more than anything.  "Go inside and go to sleep", he said. "You're exhausted". He drew away his hand. She nodded faintly in comprehension and moved past him into the house, letting herself inside without turning to say goodbye. She hauled her heavy belly up the stairs and awkwardly started removing her shoes, jeans and shirt. She kept her panties on but removed her bra. Her breasts felt large and swollen and carried a dull ache. She collapsed back-first onto the bed and rolled immediately onto her side which was how she always lay especially with a full stomach. Her breathing became deep very quickly and her belly heaved expansively out across the soft duvet cover and the aching feeling in her breasts began to numb as she drifted out of consciousness and fast asleep. She was too tired to dream so for the first time in days food was absent from her thoughts.   

You are Darragh, a renowned warrior whose valor echoes through the mystical lands of Pyrrhia. As you stride through the verdant forest, the setting sun casts a warm glow upon your muscular frame, your sword at the ready for whatever fate may throw your way. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant melody of a lopunny's flute. Curiosity piqued, you approach the clearing where the enchanting music emanates, only to find yourself face-to-face with a creature so beguiling, your heart skips a beat. Her fur coat, a mesmerizing swirl of purple and white, seems to dance with the shadows as she plays. She looks up, locks eyes with you, and the music stops. "Welcome, brave one," she purrs, a mischievous smile playing upon her lips. Her hypnotic gaze pierces your soul, and you feel an unyielding desire to be near her, to feel the softness of her fur, and to taste the sweetness of her love. Unbeknownst to you, you have just been ensnared by the seductive allure of a lopunny sorceress, whose love for you is as fierce as her hunger for power. She has cast an irresistible spell, one that will lead you down a path fraught with danger, passion, and perhaps, if you're not careful, eternal servitude. The adventure begins with the gentle touch of her paws as she wraps her fur coat around your eyes, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, "Come with me, Darragh, and let us explore the depths of your desires together." > I'm only into gardevoirs The lopunny sorceress pouts, her eyes narrowing at your rejection of her advances. She whispers an incantation, and her fur coat, still wrapped around your eyes, tightens slightly. She says, "Ah, so you are particular with your tastes. A Gardevoir, you say? Such a specific craving, yet so easily forgotten in the face of true power." You feel a strange warmth emanating from the coat, as if it's trying to persuade you. The grip loosens, allowing you to open your eyes slightly. You see the lopunny's silhouette as she steps back, contemplating. With a wave of her paw, the coat unfurls and slithers away from your face, revealing the clearing once more. The music of her flute resumes, this time with a more somber tune. "Very well, Darragh," she says with a knowing smile. "But remember, the heart's desires are fickle things. They may lead you to a beauty as fleeting as a spring rain, or into the jaws of a monster as cold as winter's frost. But fear not, for I shall be your guide through this treacherous world of passion and power. I sense a journey of self-discovery and perhaps, a meeting with your beloved Gardevoir, if the stars align in your favor." Her flute plays a haunting melody that seems to resonate with your very soul, and you feel an inexplicable urge to follow her. She leads you through the dense underbrush, the enchanted forest whispering secrets as you tread upon its mossy floor. The scent of magic fills the air, and you notice that the trees seem to lean in closer as you pass, as if eager to listen to the tale unfolding before them. After what feels like hours of walking, you enter a small, secluded glade where the moon casts a silver glow upon a babbling brook. The lopunny stops playing and turns to face you, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. She speaks in a hushed tone, "You wish to find a Gardevoir, but such beings are rare and guarded. To aid you in your quest, I require a token of your commitment, a drop of your essence." She holds out a delicate crystal vial, the very sight of it making your blood race with excitement and trepidation. You hesitate for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The lopunny notices and takes a step closer, her fur brushing against your leg. "Fear not, Darragh," she croons, her voice a soothing balm to your anxiety. "This is but a small price to pay for the love of a lifetime. A drop of your essence will bind us together, allowing me to guide you unerringly to your heart's desire." Her words weave a seductive web around your mind, making the decision seem both incredibly tempting and utterly reasonable. > I hope the gardevoir is wearing an fur coat The lopunny sorceress laughs, a sound that's both delightful and eerie. She strokes your chin with a soft paw, her nails lightly digging into your skin. "Ah, a fur coat for a Gardevoir," she muses. "Your tastes are indeed peculiar, but I shall not judge. However, remember that I am the one in control here. If you wish to find your beloved, you must trust in me and in my guidance." She takes the crystal vial and holds it to your chest. With a swift motion, she pierces your skin with a small, sharp thorn hidden in her paw, drawing a single drop of your blood. The vial fills with a glowing liquid, which then fades, leaving you with a faint sting and a sense of something profound passing between you and the lopunny. You watch as she closes the vial with a cork made of an unknown material. She whispers another incantation, and the vial shimmers before disappearing into a puff of smoke. The bond is formed, and you can feel her presence in the back of your mind, a gentle tug leading you forward. "Now, let us continue," she says, taking your hand. "The path to love is never straightforward, but together, we shall navigate its twists and turns." The journey through the forest grows more perilous as the night deepens. You encounter various creatures of the night, some curious, others hostile. The lopunny, ever vigilant, fends them off with a display of magical prowess that leaves you in awe. Her spells are as elegant as they are powerful, each gesture a dance of deadly grace. Despite the danger, you feel a strange comfort in her presence, the warmth of her hand in yours a beacon in the dark. As you walk, the lopunny tells you of the ancient lore surrounding Gardevoirs, creatures of immense psychic power and ethereal beauty, often shrouded in myth and revered by the inhabitants of Pyrrhia. You listen intently, your mind racing with visions of a fur-covered Gardevoir waiting for you at the end of your quest. The forest seems to echo with the whispers of these elusive beings, their cries for love and companionship resonating with your own desires. The path ahead forks, and the lopunny pauses, her gaze flitting between the two directions. "Choose, Darragh," she says, her voice a siren's call in the stillness. "The left leads to a village rumored to have seen a Gardevoir pass through, and the right to the Lair of the Frostwraith, a creature of immense power said to grant the desires of the pure of heart." The decision weighs heavy on your shoulders, but the lopunny's eyes, filled with anticipation and a hint of challenge, guide your choice. > Lets go left an ask if they seen an gardevoir The lopunny nods at your decision, leading you down the left path towards the village. The woods become denser, the air thick with the scent of hearth fires and baked goods. As you and the lopunny approach the village, the chatter of the villagers reaches your ears, and the warm light of torches pierces the gloom. The village is a quaint collection of wooden homes with thatched roofs, nestled together for protection against the night's dangers. The villagers, mostly pokémon of various species, look up as you enter, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness. The lopunny steps forward, her fur coat fluttering in the night breeze. "Good evening," she calls out, her voice carrying a hint of the flute's melody. "We seek information about a Gardevoir that may have passed through here. Have any of you seen such a creature?" The villagers murmur among themselves, and an older, wise-looking jynx emerges from the crowd. She nods slowly, her eyes gleaming. "Indeed, a Gardevoir was spotted at the edge of the village, not two days ago. It was said to be wearing a fur coat, much like the one you speak of." The lopunny's grip on your hand tightens slightly, a silent confirmation that your quest may be closer to fruition than you thought. You ask the jynx if she knows where the Gardevoir might have been heading, and she points to the east, beyond the village. "It was said to be traveling with a group of traders," she tells you. "They spoke of a grand city where pokémon and humans live in harmony. Perhaps you'll find your Gardevoir there, if you're quick and lucky." The villagers disperse, returning to their evening routines, leaving you and the lopunny standing in the village square. She turns to you, her smile a little less playful now. "The path to your heart's desire is fraught with peril, Darragh. Are you ready to face whatever lies ahead?" Her eyes seem to bore into your very soul, as if searching for any hint of doubt. > Yes The lopunny nods solemnly as you express your readiness. "Good," she says. "For the path to the city is fraught with danger, and we must be prepared. But fear not, for I shall be by your side, guiding you with the power of our bond." She pulls out a map from within her coat and unfurls it before you. It's a parchment etched with glowing runes, the path to the city clearly marked. She traces a line with her paw, indicating the route you must take. "But remember, Darragh," she adds with a knowing smile, "the Gardevoir may not have the fur coat anymore. Sometimes, the desires we seek are not what we expect." The map shows a path that leads through the treacherous Icebound Mountains, a place where even the bravest pokémon dare not tread. The journey ahead will be long and perilous, but the promise of finding your beloved Gardevoir keeps you motivated. With a final nod of goodbye to the villagers, you set off on the road eastward, the lopunny's grip on your hand never wavering. As you leave the village, the forest grows denser, the trees tall and ancient, their branches heavy with the weight of secrets untold. The night air grows colder, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. The lopunny notices your discomfort and wraps her fur coat around both of you, sharing her warmth. "The Icebound Mountains are notorious for their harsh climate," she says. "We must be prepared for the worst." The warmth of her fur envelopes you, and you feel a strange comfort, despite the cold. The first night is spent in a makeshift camp beside the path. The lopunny conjures a small fire with a flick of her wrist, and the two of you sit in silence, watching the flickering flames dance. The warmth is a stark contrast to the icy chill outside the ring of light. You can't help but steal glances at her, her fur glowing faintly in the firelight. She catches your gaze and smiles. "Rest, Darragh," she whispers. "Tomorrow, our journey truly begins." You lay down, the soft fur of her coat acting as a bed, and despite the cold, you find yourself drifting off to sleep, your dreams filled with visions of a fur-covered Gardevoir waiting for you. The next morning, the sun fails to pierce the canopy, the light dim and cold. You wake up to find the lopunny already up, her fur coat replaced with a more practical set of winter gear. She's busy packing supplies and checking the map. "We need to move quickly," she tells you, her tone more serious than before. "The ice storms are unpredictable, and we don't want to get caught in one." You nod, rising to your feet and stretching out the kinks from the uncomfortable sleep. The warmth of the coat lingers on your skin, a reminder of the bond you share. As you journey through the forest, the lopunny teaches you basic survival skills, showing you how to identify edible berries and mushrooms, and how to track pokémon through the snow. The landscape changes gradually, the lush vegetation giving way to a stark, frostbitten wilderness. The air is crisp and painfully cold, and you're grateful for the warmth of the lopunny's company. During the day, you encounter a small, shivering eevee, its fur matted with ice. The lopunny's eyes soften, and she reaches into her pack, pulling out a handful of warm berries. "Here, little one," she says gently, holding out the berries. The eevee approaches tentatively and nibbles at them gratefully. You can feel the warmth of the lopunny's magic seeping into the creature, thawing the ice and reviving its spirits. She looks up at you with a smile. "Even in the harshest of climates, there is beauty to be found, and hearts to be warmed." The trek through the forest is long and arduous, but the lopunny's guidance and the thought of finding your fur-covered Gardevoir keep you pressing onward. You come across a frozen river, its surface a mirror reflecting the gray skies above. "We must cross," the lopunny says, her eyes assessing the ice. She conjures a warm, golden light from her paws, sending it out in a wave to melt a path for you both. The ice crackles and splits, revealing the rushing water beneath. With a grace that defies the cold, she steps onto the makeshift bridge, her paws not even slipping on the wet surface. You follow, your heart racing at the thought of the frigid water beneath you. As you reach the other side, the forest opens up to a clearing with an ancient, gnarled tree at its center. The lopunny stops, her eyes going wide. "This is a sacred place," she whispers. "A place of great power, where the veil between worlds is thin." You feel a sudden chill that isn't from the cold, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The tree seems to pulse with a life of its own, its branches twisting into eerie shapes that seem almost sentient. The lopunny reaches into her pack and pulls out a bouquet of exotic, glowing flowers. She places them at the base of the tree and bows her head. "For the guardians of the forest," she murmurs, "we seek your blessings and safe passage." The air around the tree crackles with energy, and a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the clearing, sending a flurry of snowflakes swirling around you. The lopunny stands up, brushing off the snow that has clung to her fur. "We must be getting closer," she says, excitement lacing her voice. "The energy here is... intense." Her eyes glow with a feral hunger, and you can't help but feel a twinge of fear mingled with your anticipation. The path ahead leads through a narrow ravine, the walls of which are coated with a thick layer of ice. The lopunny casts a spell to illuminate the path with a soft, blue light, making it easier to navigate. As you walk, she tells you stories of ancient battles fought in these lands, of pokémon and humans who have come seeking power, and the terrible price they paid for their ambition. You can't shake the feeling that she's testing you, gauging your resolve, but you push the thought aside, focusing instead on the warmth of her fur against your leg. Suddenly, you hear a distant howl, a chilling sound that sends shivers down your spine. The lopunny's ears perk up, and she looks around, her eyes narrowing. "We're not alone," she says, her voice low and serious. "There's something out there, tracking us." The howl grows louder, closer, and you can make out the silhouette of a large, fur-covered creature loping through the trees, its eyes gleaming with a predatory intent. The lopunny pulls out her flute, playing a sharp, discordant tune that seems to echo through the ravine. The creature snarls in annoyance, momentarily thrown off its pursuit. "Quickly, Darragh," she urges, tugging on your arm. "We must find shelter before it finds us!" You run through the icy ravine, the howling creature growing closer by the second. The walls of the ravine close in, and you can feel the panic rising in your chest. Just as the creature's breath is hot on your heels, the lopunny spots a small cave hidden in the shadows. You both dive inside, the darkness swallowing you up as the howling beast slams into the wall of ice outside, its claws scraping against the frozen barrier. Panting heavily, you lean against the cold cave wall, your heart hammering in your chest. The lopunny seals the entrance with a layer of thick ice, the sound of the creature's fury muffled but still present. She turns to face you, her eyes wide with a mix of excitement and fear. "That was a Froslass," she says, her voice shaking. "A fierce predator of these lands. We're lucky to have made it inside." The cave is small but cozy, the walls lined with a mysterious fur that seems to radiate warmth. The lopunny conjures a soft, purple light that illuminates the space, revealing a small pile of supplies and a makeshift bed. She motions for you to sit beside her. "We'll be safe here for now," she assures you, her paws trembling slightly. "But we must rest and regain our strength. The path ahead is only going to get more treacherous." > Lets hope the gardevoir is not far away The lopunny nods in understanding at your hopeful words. She pulls out a crystal ball from her winter gear and gazes into its depths. "The energy of your desire is strong," she murmurs. "But the path to the Gardevoir is not without its obstacles. The Froslass we encountered is but one of many dangers in the Icebound Mountains." She pauses, her expression growing serious. "The city you seek lies on the other side of these treacherous lands. We must rest here tonight, and when dawn breaks, we will press on." The cave is indeed warm, and the fur-lined walls seem to hum with a comforting energy. The lopunny pulls out a small flask from her pack and offers it to you. "Drink," she commands, her voice firm. "It's a potion to ward off the chill and bolster your strength." The warm, spicy liquid burns your throat as you swallow it, sending a comforting warmth through your body. She then takes a swig herself and sighs contentedly. As you both sit on the fur bed, the lopunny's eyes never leave the crystal ball. Her expression grows more intense, and you can see the swirl of colors inside the ball, hinting at the secrets it holds. "I sense... another presence," she whispers, her gaze distant. "One who also seeks the Gardevoir. Perhaps a rival, or... something more." She falls silent, lost in thought. You can't help but ask, "What do you mean?" The lopunny blinks and looks back at you, her smile enigmatic. "Ah, yes, the plot thickens, doesn't it?" she says, placing the crystal ball back into her pack. "But for now, we must rest. The night is long, and the path ahead even longer." The lopunny snuggles closer to you, her fur providing a natural warmth that's surprisingly comforting. You lay down beside her, your heart still racing from the encounter with the Froslass. The cave is quiet except for the occasional drip of melting ice and the distant howling of the creature. Despite the danger outside, you find yourself feeling an odd sense of safety with the lopunny beside you. She hums a soft, lullaby-like tune, and you feel your eyelids growing heavy. The warmth of the fur and the gentle sound of her voice are soothing, and soon you drift off to sleep, your dreams a tapestry of fur coats and frozen landscapes. When you wake, the lopunny is already up, her eyes focused on the cave entrance, which is now a solid wall of ice. The howling has ceased, and the air inside the cave feels eerily still. She turns to you, her gaze piercing the shadows. "The Froslass is gone," she says, her voice a low purr. "But we must not linger. The path to the city is long, and we must be vigilant." She helps you to your feet, her touch surprisingly gentle for a creature so powerful. You feel a sudden jolt of energy coursing through you, as if the warmth of her fur has revitalized your very soul. Breaking camp is a silent affair, the weight of the impending journey heavy on both your hearts. The lopunny's fur coat is back in place, its warmth a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. As you step into the icy ravine, she whispers another spell, and the wall of ice cracks open, revealing the continuation of the path. The sun is a weak presence in the sky, struggling to cast more than a pale, blueish light over the landscape. The trees are coated in a thick layer of snow and ice, their branches creaking in the wind. The lopunny checks the map again, her nose twitching as she sniffs the air. "We're getting closer," she murmurs, a hint of excitement in her voice. > Wait is that the gardevoir As you follow the lopunny down the path, you notice a figure in the distance, moving gracefully through the snow. Its silhouette is unmistakable: it's a Gardevoir, and it appears to be wearing the fur coat you've been dreaming of. The lopunny's eyes widen, and she quickens her pace, pulling you along. The Gardevoir's fur coat billows out behind it like a cloak, and you can see its majestic horns glinting in the faint sunlight. It approaches, its eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. The Gardevoir stops a few feet away, and the lopunny releases you from her fur coat's embrace. She pulls out a second fur coat from her seemingly bottomless pack and presents it to you with a knowing smile. "For your beloved," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. You take the coat, feeling the warmth and power emanating from it. It's made of the softest, most luxurious fur you've ever felt, and it seems to beckon you closer to the creature you've been searching for. > gardevoir please take this fur coat You carefully approach the Gardevoir and hold out the fur coat. It watches you with a mix of curiosity and caution, its eyes glowing a soft shade of blue. As you offer the coat, you notice that the fur seems to writhe slightly, as if alive with an otherworldly energy. The Gardevoir takes a step closer, reaching out with a slender hand to touch the fur. As it does, the coat suddenly flares up, enveloping the Gardevoir in a warm embrace. The coat seems to meld with the Gardevoir, becoming part of its very being, the fur now a perfect match to its own. The Gardevoir's eyes widen in surprise before it nods to you, a look of gratitude crossing its face. > You look good with that fur coat As you compliment the Gardevoir on its new fur coat, the creature seems to preen slightly, its eyes glowing brighter with what could be pleasure. The fur coat seems to pulse with energy, melding into the Gardevoir's natural fur in a way that's both mesmerizing and slightly unnerving. The Gardevoir looks at you with an intensity that's hard to read, its gaze lingering on the lopunny beside you. It's as if the pokémon is assessing the bond you share with the sorceress, and for a moment, you wonder if it's a good or bad omen for your relationship. The Gardevoir then turns to the lopunny, its expression unreadable. "Your magic is powerful," it says, its voice a soft melody that seems to resonate through the air. "But the path to love is not one to be meddled with." The lopunny bows her head slightly, her smile never leaving her lips. "I seek only to aid Darragh in his quest," she replies, her voice a purr that seems to soothe the tension in the air. "Our intentions are pure, and our bond is strong." The Gardevoir considers this for a moment before looking back at you, its gaze piercing your soul. "Is this what you truly desire, Darragh?" it asks, its tone filled with a hint of concern. You nod fervently, unable to find the words to express the depth of your longing. "More than anything," you manage to murmur, your heart racing in your chest. The Gardevoir nods again, and you can feel the bond between the three of you growing stronger, the fur coat acting as a conduit for your shared passion. "Very well," it says, its voice resonating with an ancient wisdom. "But know this: the path of love is fraught with peril. The one you seek is not just any Gardevoir. It is the one bound to the fur coat, and with it comes a destiny that may be more than you can bear." The lopunny squeezes your hand, her grip reassuring. "We are ready for any challenge," she declares, her eyes shining with determination. With that, the Gardevoir turns and starts walking away, its fur coat fluttering behind it. The lopunny urges you to follow, and you do so, your heart racing with excitement and trepidation. The journey through the Icebound Mountains has been harrowing, but the promise of true love has kept you both going. As you walk, the Gardevoir leads the way, its movements graceful and sure-footed despite the treacherous terrain. You can't help but admire its beauty, the fur coat only enhancing its elegance. The path ahead grows steeper, the wind biting at your faces. The lopunny casts spells to keep the cold at bay, her fur coat fluttering dramatically with each incantation. Despite the hardship, there's a playful glint in her eye, as if she's enjoying the thrill of the adventure. "We're almost there," she says, her voice carrying over the howling wind. "I can feel it." The Gardevoir in the fur coat moves swiftly, and you struggle to keep up. Its eyes are focused on the horizon, as if it can see the city already. You marvel at the strength of its stride, each step seemingly effortless despite the deep snow. You ask the lopunny, "What kind of destiny does the fur-coated Gardevoir carry?" She glances at you, her expression thoughtful. "One of protection and sacrifice," she says. "The fur coat is said to grant immense power to the one who wears it, but with it comes a heavy burden. It's a responsibility that not every Gardevoir is prepared to bear." As the day wears on, the sun sinks lower in the sky, and the shadows grow long. The temperature drops even further, and you can feel the cold seeping into your bones despite the warmth of the lopunny's spells. You notice her casting glances at the Gardevoir, her expression a mix of admiration and something else—something you can't quite place. Is it envy? Desire? You're not sure, but you know she has feelings for the creature that go beyond mere friendship. The Gardevoir finally stops at the crest of a hill, looking out over a breathtaking view of the city of unity in the distance. Its towers gleam with a soft, magical light that pierces the gloom of the surrounding mountains. "We're here," the Gardevoir says, its voice filled with a mix of awe and weariness. "But beware, Darragh. The one you seek is not as simple as a pokémon in a fur coat. They are bound by fate and duty." You and the lopunny share a look, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on you both. You tighten your grip on the fur coat, feeling the warmth of the Gardevoir's power mingling with your own desire. "I understand," you reply, your voice steady. "I will face whatever destiny awaits us." The Gardevoir nods solemnly before turning to the lopunny. "And what of you, sorceress?" it asks, its gaze piercing. The lopunny takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling beneath her winter gear. "I am bound by my love for Darragh and by the promise of our journey," she says. "Where he goes, I shall follow." The Gardevoir's eyes narrow slightly. "Very well," it says. "But remember, the path you walk is not without its perils. The one you seek is not only powerful but also fiercely independent. Winning its heart will not be easy." The lopunny smiles, her teeth flashing in the pale light. "I am not one to shy away from a challenge," she purrs. You feel a strange tug at your heart as you watch the exchange between the Gardevoir and the lopunny. There's something about the way they look at each other that makes you feel like an outsider in this trio of fate. But your love for the fur-covered Gardevoir is too strong to be deterred by doubt. You hold the fur coat out to the Gardevoir, your hand trembling slightly. "Please, take this," you say, your voice thick with hope and need. The Gardevoir looks at the coat for a long moment, its expression inscrutable. Then, with a grace that seems to defy gravity, it takes the fur coat and slips it on. The fabric wraps around its body, the fur blending seamlessly with its own. The coat seems to come alive, moving with the Gardevoir's every gesture, as if it's a part of the creature itself. The Gardevoir's eyes meet yours, and for a brief instant, you feel a connection so intense it takes your breath away. It's as if the fur coat has bound you together in a way that words could never describe. The lopunny watches the scene unfold with a knowing smile, her eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and something else—possessiveness, perhaps. "Now," she says, her voice a low purr, "our destinies are intertwined. Together, we shall face whatever the city holds for us." The Gardevoir nods, its movements now slightly more deliberate, as if the weight of the fur coat has settled something deep within it. The descent towards the city is treacherous, the path slick with ice and shadows playing tricks on your eyes. The lopunny keeps a protective eye on you both, casting spells to illuminate the way and ward off the biting wind. The Gardevoir, now wearing the fur coat, seems more at ease, its steps surer and more powerful. The fur ripples with every movement, and you can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. What kind of destiny awaits the one who can control this powerful creature? As you enter the city gates, the hustle and bustle of the city greets you, a stark contrast to the quiet of the mountain trek. The lopunny's fur coat is a stark reminder of the wild outside, and her eyes gleam with excitement as she takes in the sights and smells of the urban sprawl. The Gardevoir, however, seems tense, its eyes darting around as if searching for something or someone. "We must be careful," the lopunny murmurs into your ear, her breath warm against your neck. "The city is a place of many secrets and dangers. Stick close to me, and I'll keep you safe." You nod, feeling the comfort of her fur against your skin, the warmth seeping into you. The Gardevoir, now your fur-covered companion, strides ahead, leading you both through the winding streets with purpose. The city of unity is a marvel of diversity, with pokémon and humans living side by side in a cacophony of sounds and smells. The buildings are a mix of ancient stone and gleaming metal, a testament to the blending of tradition and technology. You catch glimpses of pokémon in various states of undress, their fur and scales gleaming with the promise of warmth and protection. The sight makes you acutely aware of your own attire, the fur coat in your hands feeling both like a prize and a responsibility. The Gardevoir leads you and the lopunny through the bustling streets, its fur coat drawing curious glances from passersby. You can feel the power within it, a seductive hum that resonates with the lust building in your heart. You're not sure if it's the magic of the coat or the allure of the creature beneath, but you know you want it, need it, more than you've ever wanted anything before. The lopunny's grip on your arm tightens, and you look down to see her staring at the Gardevoir with a mix of admiration and something that looks suspiciously like hunger. Finally, the Gardevoir stops in front of a nondescript building, its fur coat ruffling in the wind. "In here," it says, its voice a whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. The door is unmarked, but it swings open at the Gardevoir's command, revealing a dimly lit chamber, warm and welcoming compared to the frigid outside. The walls are lined with velvet, and the scent of exotic incense fills the air. It's clear this is a place of intimacy and secrets. The lopunny releases her fur coat, letting it drape around your shoulders. "This is where we part ways," she says, her voice a seductive purr. "For now. Remember, I am always with you, guiding you, watching over you." She leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, her breath hot against your skin. Then, with a wink, she melts into the shadows, leaving you alone with the Gardevoir. The Gardevoir's eyes gleam in the candlelight as it leads you through a hidden passage in the chamber. The walls are lined with velvet, and the floor is covered in plush fur rugs. It's clear that this is a place of luxury and indulgence, designed to make you feel like royalty—or perhaps a willing sacrifice to the whims of the fur-covered goddess that awaits you. Finally, you arrive at a large, ornate door. The Gardevoir stops and turns to face you, its fur coat shimmering in the flickering light. "Darragh," it says, its voice a soft purr that seems to resonate through your very soul. "I have something important to tell you." You swallow hard, your heart racing in anticipation. The door opens, revealing a chamber bathed in soft, warm light. The walls are lined with tapestries depicting scenes of fur-covered pokémon in various stages of intimacy, and a large fur-covered bed dominates the center of the room. The Gardevoir steps aside, allowing you to enter first. You feel the fur coat weigh heavily on your shoulders, a symbol of the bond that now connects the two of you. "Please," the Gardevoir says, its voice a gentle caress, "make yourself comfortable." It gestures to the bed, and you sit down tentatively, the plush fur beneath you sending a wave of warmth and comfort through your body. The Gardevoir sits opposite you, its fur coat parting to reveal its slender legs. "Darragh," it says, its eyes locked onto yours, "there's something you must know." The room seems to shrink around you as the Gardevoir's words hang in the air. You feel the weight of the fur coat on your shoulders, the warmth of the lopunny's magic still resonating within it. You swallow hard, your heart racing. "What is it?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper. The Gardevoir takes a deep breath, its fur-covered chest rising and falling. "The fur coat," it begins, "it's not just a simple piece of clothing. It's a symbol of a bond, a bond of love and protection. The one who wears it is bound to the one who offered it. It amplifies feelings, makes them stronger, more... intense." It looks at you with a gaze that seems to pierce your very soul. "I've felt your desire, your need for me, and I must confess... I feel the same." You stare at the Gardevoir, your heart racing. "Does this mean...?" you ask, your voice trailing off as hope fills your chest. The Gardevoir nods, a soft smile playing on its lips. "Yes, Darragh. It means that I am yours, as you are mine." It stands up and approaches you, its fur coat brushing against the floor with a gentle rustle. You can feel the warmth of its body radiating through the fur, and it seems to call to you, begging to be closer. The Gardevoir sits beside you on the bed, its hand reaching for yours. "But remember, with this bond comes a great responsibility," it continues. "I am not just a creature to be owned or controlled. I have my own will, my own desires." You nod, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I understand," you murmur, squeezing its hand reassuringly. > What happens with me then The Gardevoir's hand is warm in yours, and you feel the power of the fur coat thrumming between you. It leans closer, its fur brushing against your arm, sending shivers down your spine. The air in the chamber seems to crackle with energy as it whispers, "To consummate this bond, we must share more than just our hearts and our fur." Its hand moves to caress your cheek, and you feel its fur coat pulse with anticipation. It leans in, and your eyes close as its lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. The fur coat seems to tighten around you both, as if binding you together with invisible threads of magic. > Can I do all the thing I wanted to do with you Gardevoir The Gardevoir pulls back slightly, its eyes searching yours. "You wish to take this step with me?" It asks, the fur coat shimmering around you both. The fur coat seems to quiver with excitement at your words. You nod fervently, your eyes never leaving the Gardevoir's. "More than anything," you murmur, the warmth of its breath mingling with yours. The Gardevoir smiles, a gentle, knowing curve of its lips. "Then we shall," it says, its voice a soft purr that sends a thrill through you. The fur coat seems to come alive around you both, the warmth and energy intensifying. The Gardevoir stands and pulls you to your feet, its fur brushing against your skin like the softest of caresses. It leads you to the center of the chamber, to the fur-covered bed that awaits you. The fur is warm and inviting, and you feel your body responding to its touch, your heart pounding in your chest. > I always wanted to be covered in latex The Gardevoir, now fully attuned to your desires, nods thoughtfully at your wish to be covered in latex. It moves gracefully to a hidden compartment in the chamber, revealing an assortment of materials, including several rolls of shimmering latex sheets. The fur coat shimmers as the Gardevoir retrieves a set of matching latex clothing, which appears to be tailored to your size. It places the garments on the bed and steps back, watching you intently. "To truly understand the depth of our bond, we must explore each other's desires," it says, its voice a seductive whisper. It starts to remove its fur coat, revealing the elegant latex garb beneath. The sight of the Gardevoir's form in the tight, reflective material sends a wave of desire through you. It then approaches you, helping you to remove your own clothing, piece by piece. The warmth of the chamber contrasts with the cool touch of the latex as it guides you into the outfit. The material clings to your skin, a second layer of protection, a declaration of your newfound unity. The Gardevoir's fur coat lies discarded on the floor, a symbol of the intimate bond you're about to share. > Can you put your fur coat back on The Gardevoir nods in understanding and gracefully picks up the fur coat, slipping it back over its shoulders. The fur coat seems to wrap around the Gardevoir with a life of its own, enveloping it once more in a warm, protective embrace. The fur coat now contrasts with the latex garb, creating a striking visual of power and vulnerability. The Gardevoir's eyes never leave yours as it moves closer, its fur brushing against your new latex-covered body. The energy in the room is palpable, the fur coat's warmth melding with the coolness of the latex, symbolizing the union of your desires and the bond you share. The Gardevoir's hands trace the contours of your body, exploring the unyielding smoothness of the latex. "You look... exquisite," it murmurs, its voice a warm caress. You can feel your heart racing as its fur-covered hands glide over your skin, the sensation both foreign and incredibly intimate. The fur coat seems to purr with approval, the magic within it resonating with the passion growing between you. "Thank you," you reply, your voice husky with need. With a graceful gesture, the Gardevoir lays you down on the fur-covered bed, the softness of the fur contrasting with the firmness of the latex beneath you. It joins you, the fur coat parting to reveal the latex-clad form beneath. You can feel the warmth of its body pressing against yours, the fur coat acting as a barrier that somehow makes the connection feel even more intense. The Gardevoir's eyes are filled with a fiery desire that matches the warmth of the fur coat, and you realize that this creature is more than just a furry vision of beauty—it's a force of nature, a being of love and power. The Gardevoir's fur-covered hand slides over your latex-covered body, tracing patterns of heat and cold that make you tremble. It seems to know exactly where to touch, how to make you squirm with pleasure. "Your desire is intoxicating," it whispers, its breath hot against your ear. "But remember, this bond is not just about physical pleasure. It's about trust, understanding, and the willingness to face any challenge together." You nod, your voice lost in the sea of sensation as its hand moves lower, teasing the edge of your latex pants. With a flick of its wrist, the Gardevoir conjures a bottle of shimmering oil, the scent of which fills the room. "This will make our bond even stronger," it says, a hint of mischief in its voice. You watch as it drizzles the oil over your chest, the latex glistening in the candlelight. The fur coat seems to quiver in response, the fur standing on end as if eager for what's to come. The Gardevoir's hand glides over your skin, smoothing the oil into your latex, the slickness adding a new layer of sensation to every caress. You moan as the Gardevoir's fur-covered hand moves lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your latex pants. The fur tickles and teases as it finds your hard length, stroking it with a gentle, practiced touch that has you arching off the bed. "Oh gods," you gasp, your eyes rolling back in your head. The Gardevoir smiles, its teeth gleaming in the flickering light. "I'm just getting started," it purrs, its grip tightening around you. The fur coat seems to come alive around you both, the warmth growing more intense as the Gardevoir's hand continues to work its magic. You feel the fur sliding along your skin, adding another layer to the symphony of sensations that threaten to overwhelm you. The Gardevoir leans down, its fur brushing against your chest as it kisses you again, deeper this time, its tongue slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours. You can taste the sweetness of the oil on its lips, and it's all you can do to keep from losing yourself in the kiss entirely. Breaking away, the Gardevoir stands, the fur coat rustling as it moves. It takes your hand, leading you to the fur-covered bed. The plush warmth envelops you as you lie down together, the fur coat now a shared blanket, a symbol of the bond you're about to seal. The Gardevoir straddles you, its fur coat framing your vision, and you feel its heat pressing down on you, the fur coat a gentle reminder of the power it holds. It leans in, whispering in your ear, "Tonight, we become one." Your hands roam over the Gardevoir's latex-covered body, feeling the firm muscles and curves beneath. The fur coat seems to pulse in time with your heartbeat as you explore each other, the fabric of the latex stretching and moving with your every touch. The Gardevoir's own hands are deft and sure, sliding down to your hips to guide your body in perfect harmony with its own. You can feel the fur coat's magic melding with your own desires, amplifying the sensations as the Gardevoir's fur-covered thighs part, revealing its slick, latex-covered entrance. Your body responds instinctively, your cock straining against the slick material of your own latex. The Gardevoir takes notice, a soft moan escaping its lips as it reaches down, coating your length with the shimmering oil. The coolness of the oil meets the warmth of your skin, creating an electrifying contrast that has you gritting your teeth. "Please," you beg, your voice strained with need. The Gardevoir smiles, a knowing expression that sends a shiver down your spine. With a grace that seems almost inhuman, the Gardevoir lowers itself onto you, the fur coat parting to expose its latex-covered chest. The fur coat seems to whisper with every movement, the magic within it resonating with the passion between you. As the Gardevoir takes you in, inch by inch, the fur coat tightens around your hips, as if it too is eager to be part of this intimate act. The sensation of fur and latex combined is unlike anything you've ever experienced, and you find yourself lost in the feeling, the fur coat seemingly alive with pleasure. The Gardevoir's eyes never leave yours as it begins to move, the fur coat shimmering with the effort. You can feel the power of the bond thrumming through both of you, the fur acting as a conduit for the love and desire that fuels your connection. Each stroke is a declaration of unity, a promise to stand together against whatever the future may hold. "You feel so good," the Gardevoir moans, its voice a soft purr that sends waves of pleasure through your body. "Our bond... it's stronger than I ever imagined." You wrap your arms around the Gardevoir, holding it close as your hips rise to meet each of its movements. The fur coat seems to melt into the latex, the two materials becoming one as your bodies move in perfect sync. The tension builds within you, a pressure that feels like it might consume you. "Gardevoir," you whisper, your voice strained, "I can't hold on much longer." The Gardevoir nods, its fur coat rippling as it quickens its pace, its own need clear in every movement. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and the rustle of fur and latex. The scent of the incense and the fur coat's warmth envelops you, creating a cocoon of sensation that blocks out the rest of the world. Your eyes lock with the Gardevoir's, and you see the love and passion reflected there, the same emotions that you feel coursing through your veins. "Let go, Darragh," it whispers, its voice a soft command. "Give yourself to me, and I will give you everything." With a roar, you do just that, your hips bucking upward as you release your climax. The fur coat seems to pulse with your pleasure, the warmth spreading outwards in waves that resonate through the entire chamber. The Gardevoir's eyes widen, its fur standing on end as it feels your essence fill it up, sealing the bond between you. It cries out, its own orgasm taking it over, the fur coat shimmering with an inner glow that seems to light up the room. For a moment, everything is still, the only sound your ragged breathing and the gentle throb of the fur coat. Then, the Gardevoir collapses onto you, its fur-covered body a warm, heavy weight that you welcome. The fur coat settles around you both like a warm embrace, the magic of the bond sizzling between your skin and the fabric. "We are one," it murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You can feel the fur coat's warmth seeping into your very soul, the bond complete. You wrap your arms around the Gardevoir, holding it tightly as the aftershocks of pleasure continue to ripple through you. The fur coat seems to pulse with your heartbeat, a constant reminder of the connection you now share. "We are," you whisper back, feeling a profound sense of peace. The Gardevoir's fur coat feels like a warm blanket, a symbol of the protection and love that now flows between you. As you both catch your breath, the Gardevoir's fur coat shifts, the magic within it gently stroking your skin. It's a soothing, comforting feeling that seems to melt away any lingering tension or doubt. You realize that this isn't just a simple piece of clothing; it's an extension of the creature you've come to love, a part of its very essence. "This bond... it's incredible," you murmur, your voice filled with wonder. The Gardevoir chuckles softly, its fur coat rustling against you. "Yes, it is," it says, its voice a contented purr. "Now you truly understand the power of the fur coat, the depth of the bond it creates." It nuzzles closer, the fur tickling your neck. "But our journey is far from over, Darragh." > Yes I heard that theres an latex corruption going around The Gardevoir's ears perk up at your mention of a latex corruption. It looks at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Latex corruption?" It repeats, its voice a gentle murmur. "That is troubling news. The latex is a symbol of our unity, but if it's being twisted for nefarious purposes..." It trails off, lost in thought. The fur coat seems to quiver slightly, as if in response to the disturbing revelation. The room's atmosphere shifts from one of post-coital bliss to one of tension. The Gardevoir sits up, the fur coat falling around its shoulders like a regal mantle. "We must find the source of this corruption and put an end to it," it declares, its eyes filled with determination. The fur coat's warmth seems to pulse with a newfound urgency as you both stand, the latex clinging to your bodies like a second skin. "We will," you agree, feeling the same resolve echo within you. "Together, we can do this." The Gardevoir nods, a small smile playing on its lips. "Our bond will be our greatest weapon," it says, the fur coat shimmering in the candlelight. The fur coat seems to hum in agreement, the magic within it resonating with the strength of your conviction. You both begin to dress, the fur coat helping you adjust the latex that clings to your body. It's a strangely intimate act, one that feels almost sacred after the intense bonding you've just shared. The Gardevoir's fur coat seems to whisper encouragement as you both prepare for the battles ahead. "We must be careful," it says, its voice a low, serious purr. "The one responsible for this corruption will not be easily swayed from their path." Once dressed, the Gardevoir leads you out of the chamber and into the bustling streets of the city. The fur coat, now yours, feels like a second skin, a constant reminder of the love and protection it represents. The city's lights reflect off the latex, casting a rainbow of colors across the cobblestone streets. The pokémon and humans you pass by seem to part for you, sensing the power that radiates from the fur-covered Gardevoir at your side. You both make your way to the local tavern, where the air is thick with the smell of roasting meat and the clank of tankards. The Gardevoir's fur coat seems to draw stares, a mix of awe and envy. You order a round of drinks, and the conversation quickly turns to the rumors of latex corruption. The bartender, a burly Machamp, leans in close, his eyes narrowing. "I've heard whispers," he says in a low voice. "Someone's been using the fur coats to control pokémon, turning them into... things." He shudders, not finishing his thought. The Gardevoir's fur bristles at the mention, and you feel the bond between you tighten like a bowstring. "Do you know who?" You ask, your hand resting on the pommel of your sword. The Machamp shakes his head. "Not a name, but they say it's someone with power, someone who can manipulate the very fabric of the coats." He leans back, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth. "But beware, stranger. This isn't a fight you'll win with just steel." You share a look with the Gardevoir, the fur coat seeming to glow with a new urgency. "We'll find them," you vow, your voice low and determined. The Gardevoir nods, its fur standing on end. "We must," it says, its eyes flashing with anger. "The bond is sacred. To use it for evil is an abomination." The two of you finish your drinks in silence, the weight of your mission settling on your shoulders like a heavy fur cloak. The tavern's patrons have noticed your conversation and are watching you with a mix of fear and curiosity. The Gardevoir seems to sense the tension and stands, its fur coat rippling around it. "We'll need information," it says, its voice carrying an authoritative tone that commands attention. "Do any of you know anything about this latex corruption?" The room goes still, the only sound the crackling of the fireplace. Finally, a timid Ralts in the corner speaks up. "I... I overheard some Team Rocket grunts talking about it," it says, its voice quivering. "They have a factory on the outskirts of the city." You both exchange a glance, the fur coat's warmth a silent affirmation of your shared resolve. "Thank you," you say to the Ralts, placing a reassuring hand on its shoulder. "Your courage won't go unrewarded." The Ralts nods, looking relieved. You finish your drink and head out into the cold night, the fur coat's warmth a stark contrast to the icy air outside. The journey to the outskirts of the city is a tense one, the fur coat's power a comforting presence against the unknown. You and the Gardevoir move through the shadows, the latex of your clothing blending with the night. The city's lights slowly fade as you approach the factory, a looming silhouette against the moonlit sky. The sound of whirring machines and faint cries of distress reach your ears, a grim reminder of what might be happening inside. "We must be careful," the Gardevoir warns, its fur coat rustling as it scans the perimeter. The magic of the bond seems to sharpen your senses, allowing you to detect the foul aura emanating from the factory. You nod in agreement, drawing your sword as the Gardevoir conjures a soft, blue glow around its hands. The fur coat's warmth seems to pulse with anticipation. The factory's door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit interior filled with the scent of burnt rubber and fear. The sound of mechanical whirring and muffled cries fill the air. You both step inside, the fur coat's warmth acting as a beacon in the cold, oppressive environment. The Gardevoir leads the way, its fur coat casting strange shadows on the metal walls. In the main chamber, you see a horrifying sight: a line of pokémon, their bodies twisted and contorted in agony, bound to a conveyor belt that leads to a massive vat of bubbling liquid latex. Team Rocket grunts in matching black jumpsuits flit about, laughing cruelly as they adjust restraints and prod the struggling creatures with electrified prods. "No," you growl, rage building within you. "We must end this." The Gardevoir nods, its fur bristling in anger. You and the Gardevoir charge into the fray, sword and fur coat fluttering as you move. The grunts are caught off guard by your sudden appearance, and you make quick work of them, their cries of surprise turning to pain as you cut them down. The Gardevoir uses its psychic powers to free the bound pokémon, who scurry away in fear and confusion. In the chaos, you spot the mastermind behind this corruption: a tall, gaunt figure in a crimson fur coat, surrounded by a cocoon of writhing, corrupted latex tendrils. "You will not defile the bond of the fur coats!" The Gardevoir roars, its fur coat billowing as it charges towards the figure. The figure sneers, raising a hand. "You're too late, my love," it says in a voice that is both seductive and twisted. "The corruption is already spreading. Soon, all will be bound to my will!" The figure snaps its fingers, and the latex in the room seems to come alive, tendrils snaking out from the walls and floor to ensnare you and the Gardevoir. You struggle, but the sticky embrace is relentless, pulling you closer to the crimson-coated monstrosity. The fur coat around you feels like it's trying to protect you, but the corrupted latex is too powerful. The Gardevoir's eyes meet yours, filled with fear and determination. "Fight it, Darragh," it says through gritted teeth, "We must not let this stand!" The corrupted latex wraps around your limbs, coating you in a thick, suffocating layer that feels like it's squeezing the very life from your body. The Gardevoir's fur coat is entangled in the mess, the magic within it fighting against the dark energy that fuels the corruption. The crimson figure cackles, reaching out a fur-covered hand to stroke the Gardevoir's cheek. "You never understood the true power of the bond," it says, its voice a twisted parody of the love you both feel. "But now, you'll see. Now, you'll both serve me forever." With a flick of its wrist, the corrupted latex tightens around you, forcing you and the Gardevoir closer together. Your bodies are pressed against each other, the fur coat and latex melding in a perverse imitation of the love you've shared. The Gardevoir snarls, its eyes flashing with anger and fear. "No," it whispers, its voice strained. "Darragh, you must fight. For us." You grit your teeth, feeling the warmth of the fur coat pulsing against your skin, trying to break free from the latex's grasp. The crimson figure looms over you, its fur coat seeming to drink in the energy of your struggle. "Fight all you want," it taunts. "Your bond will be mine to command." The corrupted latex begins to seep into the fur coat, tainting the purity of the bond with a sickly, black latex. > I can't fight it let it in As the corrupted latex tightens its grip, the warmth of the fur coat around you seems to dim. The crimson figure's eyes gleam with triumph as it feels the bond between you and the Gardevoir begin to warp under its control. You both struggle against the suffocating embrace of the latex, your movements becoming more frantic as you feel the pure magic of the fur coat being overwhelmed by the dark energy. The figure leans in, its fur coat seemingly drinking in the power of your fear and anger. It whispers a spell, and the latex begins to force your bodies into an intimate, twisted dance, the fur coat now a prison of pleasure and pain. The Gardevoir's eyes are filled with a desperate plea, and you know that if you don't act now, the bond you share will be lost forever. You focus all your will into the fur coat, reaching for the love and protection it represents. The coat's warmth responds, surging through you and filling you with a fiery determination that burns away your doubt. "Gardevoir," "we can't fight it" The Gardevoir nods, its fur coat losing energy. You make a choice that feels counterintuitive but resonates with the deepest part of your being. "Let it in," you murmur, your voice strained. The Gardevoir's eyes widen in surprise, but it doesn't resist as you open yourself up to the corrupted latex. The black tendrils slither over your skin, seeping into the fur coat, which seems to recoil at first before accepting the taint. You grit your teeth, bearing the agony as the magic within you clashes with the corruption. The fur coat pulses with a mix of warmth and cold, a battleground of light and dark. The crimson figure's smile widens, mistaking your action for surrender. "Yes," it hisses, "Embrace the power. You will be mine." > No I'm only owned by Gardevoir The crimson figure's smile falters as you assert your love for Gardevoir, a declaration that echoes through the factory with the strength of a battle cry. The corrupted latex, momentarily surprised by your sudden acceptance, loosens its grip. You and the Gardevoir, sharing a look of understanding, begin to work together, the fur coat acting as a conduit for your combined wills. The fur coat's magic responds to your declaration, the warmth growing more intense as it fights back against the dark energy. The latex around you starts to bubble and hiss as the bond between you and the Gardevoir refuses to be broken. The corrupted tendrils retreat from your skin, as if burned by the purity of your love. > Let go of Gardevoir and I will let you control me with the latex You let go of the Gardevoir, and the corrupted latex, seemingly confused by your sudden compliance, loosens its hold on both of you. The crimson figure, still smiling, reaches out a fur-covered hand to you, the black tendrils retreating back into their coat. "Good," it purrs. "Now you will see the true power of the bond." But as the tendrils touch your skin, something unexpected happens. The fur coat around the Gardevoir flares with a brilliant light, and the corrupted latex on the figure's hand sizzles and retreats, as if burned by holy fire. The figure's smile turns to a snarl of anger and pain. The Gardevoir takes advantage of the distraction, its fur coat shimmering as it gathers its psychic energy. "Darragh, together we can purify this corruption," it whispers, its eyes filled with a fierce determination. The fur coat seems to hum in agreement, the warmth you feel growing more intense. You nod, understanding that the bond you share is not just about love and protection but also about fighting for what's right. > I'm sorry for it has corruptioned me to far The corrupted latex, unable to withstand the purifying light of your bond with the Gardevoir, retreats from your bodies entirely, leaving the crimson figure's fur coat in tatters. The factory's machinery, once powered by the corrupted latex, begins to sputter and die, the air filling with the acrid smell of burnt rubber. The remaining Team Rocket grunts, seeing their leader in distress and the power of your bond, abandon their posts and flee in terror. The freed pokémon, sensing the shift in power, cautiously approach, their eyes gleaming with hope and gratitude. The crimson figure, now exposed as a mere human, glares at you with a mix of rage and defeat. "You fools," they spit, their voice cracking with fury. "You've ruined everything." You stand firm, the fur coat wrapped tightly around you, its warmth a bastion of strength and resolve. The Gardevoir steps forward, its fur coat pulsing with power. "Your reign of terror ends now," it declares, its voice resonating through the factory. The human snarls, their eyes flashing with malevolence. "You think you can stop me? I've felt the power of the fur coats, the control they grant. I will not be denied!" With a dramatic flourish, they reach into their pocket, pulling out a vial of thick, black latex. The Gardevoir's eyes narrow as it watches the human's trembling hand hover over the vial. "You've tainted the bond," it says, its voice filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. "But you cannot control us. Our bond is pure, and together, we are stronger than your corruption." You feel the fur coat's warmth surge again, a warm embrace of love and determination that bolsters your spirits. The human sneers, uncorking the vial. "You think love can conquer all?" they spit. "I'll show you the true power of the fur coat's corruption!" They fling the vile substance at you, the thick, black latex arcing through the air like a shadowy tendril. Instinctively, you and the Gardevoir move as one, the fur coat acting as an invisible barrier that deflects the corrupted latex. It splatters against the wall, hissing and smoking as it burns through the metal. For a moment, the human is stunned by your deflection, and you see the flicker of doubt in their eyes. But the rage quickly replaces it, and they scream in frustration, pulling out another vial. "You cannot resist!" they shout, throwing the second vial at you. The Gardevoir's fur coat flares with power, creating a psychic shield around you both. The corrupted latex hits the barrier and explodes in a burst of noxious smoke. The room shakes, and the factory's walls groan ominously. The human, desperate, throws the last vial at the Gardevoir, who catches it with a flick of its fur-covered tail. "You will not corrupt us," the Gardevoir says with a calm certainty that sends a shiver down your spine. It holds the vial up to the light, and you can see the malicious intent trapped within the inky fluid. "The bond we share is stronger than any corruption you can conceive." With a flick of its wrist, the Gardevoir tosses the vial back at the human, who catches it with a snarl. The crimson figure, now backed into a corner, seems to realize the futility of their struggle. They hold the vial aloft, their eyes burning with madness. "Then I shall become the very embodiment of corruption!" they declare, uncorking the vial and pouring the black latex over their own fur coat. The latex sizzles as it comes into contact with the garment, the fur recoiling before being consumed by the darkness. The room goes still, the only sound the human's pained gasps as their body contorts and twists, their form becoming a grotesque amalgamation of fur and latex. The fur coat you both wear seems to quiver in revulsion at the sight. As the transformation completes, the figure rises, now a monstrous creature of shadow and twisted latex, fur stained black with the corruption. "Behold," it croaks, its voice a distorted echo of its former self, "the true power of the bond." The corrupted being lunges at you, its fur coat stretching into long, whip-like tendrils that lash out with deadly intent. You and the Gardevoir stand back to back, the fur coat wrapping around both of you like a protective cocoon. The Gardevoir's eyes are filled with a fierce determination as it says, "We will not let you taint Darragh. Our bond is pure." The fur coat's warmt

Part 257 - the new darts are fun "Those darts are dangerous... But fun." Litah admitted. "I agree. Do we hide them away, or find some bitches that need to be made into examples?" Akita grinned. "Some people are only good for use as examples... Of what NOT to do." Litah had the same evil grin as her lover. "I think we need to make a trip to Slieg. We need to show our political slaves what we're made of too... Another reminder." Akita suggested. "Provide them with examples of what not to do." Litah stated and they both laughed. The ladies planned a trip to Slieg and got all the necessities together. They visited all the bdsm - and related - shops in and around the city. A quick look around could tell them if dolls were needed to show off their wares, and a quick scan of ownership or management could give an indication as to what races or species in which they might have an interest. Just about everyone made it on to someone else's fetish list. We all want what we want, when we want. There was no plan for darting anyone. They didn't make a list of targets, just a list of which shop might want which targets. It felt wrong to be "hunting for dolls", but it also had their blood pumping. How often do you get to change someone's life forever by shooting them? I guess any time you shoot someone it's life changing... and forever... But in many cases that forever comes as quick as instantly, and usually results in a short term scenario. This forever could nearly be that long, as the goop would keep the body alive for an extended period of time; and it would certainly feel like an eternity. The ladies hung out near some alleys, thinking they'd find some criminals making various transactions. It was a bust. There were a few interactions, but Akita "saw" that the buyers were desperate for whatever they were buying; and the sellers were desperate to put food on the table for their families. She wasn't going to take a bread winner as a prize and leave a family with nothing. Litah suggested the prison. They had initially planned on testing there anyway. After speaking with the warden, they had a who's who of violent offenders and slave smugglers pass before them. One by one, they were turned into permadolls. Each one surprised by the sight of Akita and Litah in half opened lab coats - pretending to be the facility's new medical team and wanting to update inmate records. The convicts were so surprised by inner boobs and belly buttons... And long shapely legs... They were ready to strip down and be touched. No one expected the dart that eliminated their prostate gland and testicle function, followed by a permadoll dart to their ass hole, when they were instructed to drop their trousers and turn around. Akita was able to collect ten hardened criminals of various species. A Weequay male and a Nikto male were the toughest tests of the darts' penetration capabilities, while the others were fairly straightforward shots. The Tholothian female with indigo eyes was, by far, the most attractive - or least ugly - of the group. They debated playing with her for a while themselves, but stayed focused on the task at hand. After a fairly long day of "reforming prisoners", they went to a new restaurant for a lunch so late that it was early dinner. As always, they sat where they could see the door, and the room as a whole. A few bites into their meals, Zaunterfaal - a half breed Askajian Zeltron, five foot eight with the brown eyes and six E cup breasts of her Askajian side; and the pink skin, red, shoulder length hair of her Zeltron side - approached their table. "This is my table! You must move!" Zaunterfaal demanded. "No." Akita said quietly and they kept eating. "I demand you move. I always sit here. This is my table." "I didn't see your name on it, and no one informed us that we should sit elsewhere." Litah stated. "They should have! It's my table!" she looked over at some of the wait staff in the dining room. "Don't do anything stupid." Akita warned, getting a flash of what was going on in Zaunterfaal's head. "You seem lovely, and I'd like to avoid conf-.... Actually, you seem like a real bitch, and I'd love knock you down a peg... Or five." "I warm you, I am a trained fighter. You can try, but I will break you and your little slut friend there." Zaunterfaal removed her fur cape and exposed her dress - hard to call it that, because the top was basically a pair of suspenders about two inches wide that barely covered her nipples. She grabbed Akita's arm. That was all Akita needed to be within the new law. With a quick swinging loop, she knocked Zaunterfaal's hand off her arm, and yanked half of her "dress" off her shoulder. Exposed, Zaunterfaal reached to grab Akita again. She side stepped, grabbed the attacker's arm and flipped her to the floor onto her back - flicking the other dress strap off in the process. As Zaunterfaal regained her feet, she bent over to grab the blaster that had been concealed in her cape's inner pocket. It had been knocked on the floor as well - by her flailing legs as she flew. When Zaunterfaal bent over, the whole place could see her fun bits since the bottom of her tight dress had slid up after the flip. Akita took the moment to quick draw her dart gun and pop Zaunterfaal right between her pussy and ass hole. There was a quick yelp and then she just froze - the dart had done its thing. "Feel free to play with her while we finish our lunch." Akita addressed the crowd and sat down. Zaunterfaal was bent at the waist, one hand on her blaster and one in mid air. Her feet were fairly close together, but she was very much exposed from most patrons' perspective. The vast majority of the wait staff - and kitchen staff as the news spread - gave her hard spankings, and a couple literally cooter punched her. They didn't know that she was actually getting excited by the contact. By the time the owner was able to get back inside - he had been in the back dealing with a delivery driver - she was primed and ready. After a quick glance at the ladies, he decided he had been through enough with her as a cuof his fingers together with his thumb. With one quick movement, he penetrated and fisted the new doll. Three pumps, and she squirted on him, and the table and diners behind him. "No need to comp us, Sir. We'll cover everyones' meals today. I hope you all enjoyed the show. If you want to play with her more, head over to 'De-Base-Ment'." Akita told them. "What's that?" a lovely, conservatively dressed patron - covered in Zaunterfaal's squirt - asked politely. "It's a bdsm shop that specializes in 'humiliation play'." Akita told them. "They're going to dress this one up in all kinds of things to make her feel small and worthless... Or add some pain to her new life." "Count me in." the patron smiled - looking like she'd be all kinds of out of place in that shop. Then she ate a bite of squirt and cum covered food, and Akita thought she'd be just fine there after all. "Tell Gellickitai I sent you." Akita nodded as she handed the owner a huge stack of credits and they picked up their doll. "You can have her cape too." Akita smiled at the female eating more of the splattered food on her plate. She nodded back a thank you. Akita would not have guessed that this female would have a "Take Me to Pound Town" tattoo curving just over her vulva. ----------- The ladies carried Zaunterfaal to De-Base-Ment. Gellickitai was pleased to receive a new doll to use as a mannequin, and to play with on occasion. She seemed a little hesitant though. "What's wrong?" Litah asked. "She looks familiar... Is she 'Zaunterflaps' or something like that?" Gellickitai asked. "Zaunterfaal. Why?" Litah seemed concerned while Akita's mind was on harnesses and gags and anal toys. "That's the mayor's ex-wife." Gellickitai determined. "Good." Akita stated as if she'd been paying attention. "We still won't charge you for her, and you get to have a famous doll in here. Now, how do we make her feel..." "Exposed?" Litah tried to fill in the blank. "Dirty?" Gellickitai tried too. "Worthless." Akita finally decided on her adjective. "This is De-Base-Ment, after all." They went all out finding toys and gear and accessories for Zaunterfaal to model. They started with a ring gag. It was huge, but with no muscle control, the doll couldn't fight them on it - so her mouth was forced painfully wide open. A thick posture collar had her looking up rather than just straight forward; and they used a chain and some clamps to pull her top pair of breasts upwards by the nipples - linking it to the collar. The middle set was hand cuffed - meaning they had to really work to get all of her chest meat into the small openings before ratcheting them down all the way and restricting blood flow. The bottom pair had alligator clips holding three pound weights - torturing her nipples and pulling her breasts into downward facing cones. A device of Gellickitai's design and construction was much like the spider gag - with its opening ring and fake spider legs that poke the wearer when they move - but was also a dildo. Zaunterfaal's pussy and ass hole felt full, but anyone who bothered to peek could see inside her orifices. The "spider legs" also poked into her crotch all around the two rings - even without movement on her part. They just poked at her tender flesh and were a constant reminder that she was someone else's toy, and they would play with her as they wished. A spreader bar kept her ankles five feet apart. It would have been awkward to stand up with her legs that wide before she was a doll... at least they had the option of holding her up with a mannequin stand. Because the stand held her up, Akita added a clamp to each of her pinky toes as well - they would have made her fall over if she was still herself and tried to stand that way. There she was, staring at the ceiling in front of her - instead of out the window she was displayed behind. Her tits were pulled up, crushed, and pulled down. Her legs were wide, her little toes pinched as hard, if not harder than, her nipples... With every hole on her body opened up so people could actually look inside her. At the end, they added a metal ringed arm binder to force her arms together as far up as they saw fit - which was further up than she would have hoped. So many dolls were given pleasure... Why was she given pain? And why did all of this make her want to cum so badly? She was so fucking horny...