Feathered Feelings

Life was pretty easy for Lyon. Residing in a small but ornate chateau along the outskirts of Kalos, the sight of endless vineyards along the rolling hills certainly made for a picturesque environment. As an heir to even a fraction of his family’s fortune, Lyon had never found wealth a source of vexation. Perhaps such an abundance of money wasn’t purely positive, as the rich boy lacked ambition. Frankly he was a NEET who lived alone beside his single pokémon. She was an expensive import from some obscure region, known as a quetzatickle. He didn’t need to employ any waitstaff, as she was trained as an excellent maid. The natural feather patterning of the pokémon made such a vocation inevitable, given it resembled a traditional maid uniform. The two had known each other for a long time, as Lyon had received her as a gift from his father many years ago. His memory was fuzzy on the details, but he thought it had something to do with learning responsibility. Ironically though Lyon had practically become the responsibility of the pokémon as time went on. Now it was another lazy morning, the day of week a faint notion in the back of the estate owner’s mind.

The songs of fletchlings carried across the summer air while the golden rays of morning illuminated the shady oaks around the gaudy chateau. The light pierced the thin leaves and produced a yellow green glow that faintly trickled into the spacious bedroom inside. Snoring inelegantly against the twittering of the day’s beginning was Lyon, bundled in the thick crimson blankets on top of his hand carved bed. Far more alert in contrast was the delicate skittering of claws against tile, the telltale sound of his sole maid approaching. The hulking figure might have been considered intimidating by a passing bystander, but being so delicately fringed in black and white weathers made for a gentler visage. A silver platter was hoisted in one of her hands, feathered talons placed precisely from experience to convey the dish with utmost elegance. Opening the bedroom door gingerly she gave a huff of indignation upon seeing her dozing master. She disapproved of how lazy his lifestyle had become overtime. However, a new idea caused her to smirk. Quietly she placed the platter near his bed before looming over the bed’s occupant. Before he could snore again, she bore down with her violet feathers, and began to tickle Lyon mercilessly. Up with a start, he shook his messy bed head while laughing uncontrollably. Interrupted by labored breaths he pleaded, “Please, I’m up, I’m up!” Seemingly satisfied she released him from her soft torture. Moments later Lyon was still catching his breath as the quetzatickle lifted the dome from his steaming breakfast.

Lyon lit up as the aroma of honey and butter reached his nose, “Oh I knew there was a reason I hadn’t replaced you with a Delphox,” he teased. In response she leered at him before moving the finely crafted meal into his lap. Looking out the window to observe the beautiful morning he asked “And how is my maid this morning?” His answer came in the form of a little curtsy from the large reptile, something she had taken to demonstrate she was happy. “Good to hear.” Lyon lifted his cup a little, and she took no time at all to carefully pour a bit of freshly squeezed juice. Even after all this time he couldn’t help but respect the grace this pokémon demonstrated. Once everything was placed as needed, she promptly turned around and began to leave the room. Excited to eat, Lyon snatched his utensils before indulging in the aroma of his food once more. Only this time it was the scent of rotted caviar that met his nose. Twisting his nose in disgust he looked up to spot his maid deftly using her feathered tail as a fan while still standing in the doorway. Before he could say anything, she raised her hand like an expensive fan to her chin and laughed innocently. That would teach him to make such remarks. Quickly she closed the door and left Lyon with her silent intruder. He could only hurriedly yell back, “Oh come on! How mature!”

Hearing her claws scatter back across the hallway, he looked around before guiltily taking a deep breath. Some say a life of luxury leads one to develop strange interests, and for Lyon such a crass act coming from anyone of such poise did things to him he would never willingly divulge. With a face slightly reddened he tucked into his breakfast. Like always it was delicious, even with the lingering miasma of dead fish in his room. “Maybe I need to get her on a healthier diet,” he thought. Blushing a little deeper he figured perhaps it was better not to change it. He knew she just did this to annoy him, so he had done his best over the years exclaiming how disgusted he was as a cover. It was strange but he thought of this dinosaur as his friend, and he knew things would be better between them if he kept quiet about this particular interest. “Besides,” he thought, “the more convinced she is I hate it, the more she seems to like doing it.” Reassured in his strategy, he smiled and finished off the morsels enthusiastically. More than content with the moment, he idly watched the sun rise through the rustling leaves a while longer.

Outside the bedroom, the quetzatickle was busying herself dusting furniture that had been intricately fashioned from a variety of foreign woods. She knew from experience about how long Lyon would take with breakfast, although she figured her little present would speed things up this morning. As if on cue, her ears detected a creaking sound, signaling the bedroom door had opened. Hearing the movement, she jumped into action. Practically lunging at her master, Lyon didn’t even flinch at the velociraptor pursuing him. Still stumbling forward he didn’t react as she thrusted her claws towards him. However instead of violently colliding, the servant instantly slowed her pace to match Lyon’s before neatly combing his messy hair with the tips of her claws. Stifling a yawn, he hardly acknowledged the ambush stylist trailing behind him. At this point it had simply become routine. Slowly making their way across the hallway, she paused before shifting a single strand of hair and flashing a toothy smile. Now pleased with how his hair looked, she continued her leisurely stroll behind him. Moments later Lyon broke the quiet with a sudden realization, “Oh yeah, the new expansion drops today!” With a newfound enthusiasm he picked up the pace and headed down the hallway.

The quetzatickle wasn’t quite sure what he meant by this, but she was happy to see a fire lit underneath him. Quizzically she watched him move, only to let out a sigh of disappointment when he leapt into his expensive gaming chair. The neon plastic of the recliner clashed horrendously with the refined décor of the room, but this hardly bothered Lyon. His PC used to stay in his room, but this often meant he could go days without ever leaving. It was only moved after his maid had forcibly dragged the entire set-up into the living room to lure him out. Currently thinking about that day, she was brought back to reality as her owner eagerly spun in his chair, “This new update is supposed to be fantastic!” Honestly, she hardly knew how a computer even worked, but she found it hard to stay mad when he looked this giddy. She tried her best to ignore the fact this usually meant he would be glued to that chair for the entire night. She figured she could at least use the time to rearrange some of the items around the house, it was rare they had visitors, but she liked to keep things tidy.

While Lyon strapped on his headset, his quetzatickle was preoccupied rummaging through cluttered shelves. A couple of old badges here, a 2nd place trophy there, the only proof Lyon was in fact a capable trainer. She wished he would take her out to battle more, this “little break” from the field had gone on longer than anticipated. She might be a diligent servant by trade, but she loved to show her prowess against other trainers. Even dorky Lyon seemed so much more commanding to her on the battlefield. They had been quite the duo when they pushed their way across the routes. Trying not to dwell on the past, she moved onto the bookshelf and shuffled around literature for a time. Occasionally a muffled gurgling could be heard from her stomach, but the skilled ‘saurous restrained herself. Lyon had recently found a deal and bought a ton of caviar and seafood for the pantry, and the diet was taking its toll. Still absentmindedly organizing, an electronic chiming alerted her to a visitor at the door. Craning her head back, she noticed Lyon hadn’t even heard, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. With a little huff she marched towards the door, trying her best to politely open the door. Despite her efforts her annoyance clearly shined through, as on the other side of the door was a frightened deliveryman. Not quite prepared for the disgruntled dino, he nervously presented his delivery. Her face softened to one of confusion as she examined the curious shipment. There were two small metal boxes alongside a large wooden crate. She was never sure just what her master might have been shopping for online. Bending down she scooped up the heavy cargo with ease and shut the door with a flick of her tail as she spun around. Unsure what he had done wrong, the deliveryman let out a little “M-Merci,” before retreating to his truck.

Towing the items inside, she toyed with the idea of dropping the crate loudly enough to startle Lyon but figured the potential damage to its cargo wasn’t worth it. Instead she opted for silently setting the items down in the middle of the room. So preoccupied in his game, Lyon hardly noticed anything had happened. She knew this was a golden opportunity. Carefully out of his sight she backed up towards the inattentive young man. She inched closer and closer while her wicked grin similarly inched across her face. Lifting her tail slowly she had practically backed her rear right against the back of his head. Restraining a snicker, she lightly pushed against her stomach. What followed may have only been a few seconds, but the sound of a rushing zipper practically shattered the silence of the room while ruffling the precisely arranged hairs on the back of his head. Swiveling around in his chair, Lyon was hit by a warm cloud reminiscent of a fish market on a scorching day. The byproduct of feeding a voracious carnivore primarily seafood. “Oh, that’s disgusting!” he cried, only to see his dutiful maid feigning ignorance as she pretended to look around in confusion for the source of the noise. “I know that had to have been y-,” he started, before spotting the packages on the ground.

Taking off his headset and fanning the air he grumbled, “At least it looks like my order got here.” He inspected the wooden crate first. Prying his fingers into the cracks he pulled for a few fruitless moments, until he yanked with all his might and was astonished when the lid almost flew off. Ready to brag about his strength, he faltered when he noticed the large claw marks that clearly separated the lid moments ago. Now glad he hadn’t said anything, he reached down and retrieved a large sack from the crate. The mysterious sack was light blue and adorned with multiple images of a cartoony raichu surfing the waves. “Ah, this must be the Alolan poké beans I ordered!” Quickly dropping the bag to his side, he ogled the two small metal boxes nearby. A flash of recognition appeared in his face before he wordlessly snatched the items up and jumped in the chair. His companion on the other hand had no idea why he was doing this, tilting her head in confusion she watched him swivel the boxes out of her sight. Creeping around to see what he could be doing he raised a hand in protest, “Wait a second!” he interjected while the clinking of metal could be heard. Unsure how to proceed, she stared dumbfounded at the back of his obnoxiously bright chair and twiddled her talons. She almost jumped when he swiveled around just as suddenly, holding something cupped in his hands.

Lyon presented his closed hands and his confused maid brought her head closer to whatever was being hidden. “Ta-dah!” he yelled as he unclasped his hands, revealing what looked like a large marble attached to a golden chain. Still not grasping what this could be, she brought her face closer to inspect the shiny bauble. Before she could react, he brought his hands towards her and deposited the item around her neck. Inquisitively she eyed the reflective trinket hanging from her neck by the golden chain. Lyon now sensing her confusion excitedly said, “It’s a mega stone! I just uh, bought a necklace and hooked it in.” The implications of what a mega stone could be however were lost on her as she felt the weight of the object in her claws. Turning around self-conscious Lyon trailed off, “Well I thought you would like it, you do seem to like when we battle and it was supposed to be delivered a long time ago and uh…” Now out of his line of sight, the quetzatickle blushed realizing she had been given such lovely jewelry as well as recognition she still cared about battling. Shaking her head and deterring the blush, she spun the chair around for him and did her best little curtsy to show her appreciation. “I’m real glad you like it,” he said, taking a moment before slipping on his headset and turning back to the screen. In response to his tactless return to his game she pouted with her feathered hands on her hips. “Of course this idiot has the nerve to just ignore me right after giving a gift like that…”

The rest of the day proceeded like many before, Lyon remained sewn to his seat while his pokémon tended to the estate. He was so enraptured by the new content she didn’t even need to cook again, just occasionally drop bags of chips or a glass on his desk. She still teased him a few times, but it was never enough to fully deter him from his recreation. Not wanting to prepare a meal only for herself, the maid eyed the discarded bag in the living room. She thought, “It has poké in the name, right? It’s probably meant for me.” Gently she clawed a small incision in the top of the sack. To her delight the interior of the bag appeared to be filled with a plethora of colorful little beans. Though she preferred meat, the delectable smell of these savory treats enticed her. Gingerly she lifted the bag and tiptoed away into the kitchen, as if Lyon would even notice. Now out of sight she drooled a little while eyeing the bag. Confident no one would see, she primally dug her head into the bag. It was as if the bag was her freshly caught prey, as she spilled its rainbow innards. Gnashing through the candy-like contents, she ate her fill in only a couple minutes. When her frenzy subsided, she wiped the colorful crumbs from her mouth. “I might have overdone it,” she mused, surveying the gutted sack and stifling a satisfied belch. In a bit of a stupor from a full stomach, she went to get a broom to clean up her mess.

Now it was dark outside, and only the rapidly flashing lights of Lyon’s monitor illuminated the interior of the home. Feeling tired after stuffing herself, the quetzatickle figured she could go to sleep. Lyon would just keep playing to an ungodly hour anyway. He was a big boy, he could live a night without her. Moving further back into the hallway she stopped at her door. Her room may not have been very big, but she knew most pokémon didn’t even get a room to themselves. She thought of it as being cozy. It was sparsely decorated other than her bed, a lamp, and a few old photos of herself and Lyon on the walls. Her bed was essentially a gigantic dog bed on the floor, but it was still luxuriously coated in fine furs and filled with swanna feathers. Turning off her little lamp, she readily curled down into her cushy bed. While getting comfortable she felt her recent feast sit heavy in her stomach. She groaned a bit in discomfort but sleep still came to her before long.

It felt almost instantaneous when she opened her eyes in the morning sun. Her internal clock was well tuned, so she got up the same time every day, unlike her master. Arching her back off the bed, she stopped as pins and needles told her gut had only become exponentially worse. Straining to get up, she wrapped an arm around her stomach before leaving her room. Moving down the hallway slightly slower than most mornings, she was happy to see Lyon’s outpost in the living room abandoned. To confirm her suspicion, she moved back to Lyon’s door. Cautiously she creaked his bedroom door open. As expected, she saw her master strung out underneath his thick crimson blankets. Sighing partially in relief, and partially in disappointment he was sleeping late again, she contemplated waking him up anyway for ignoring her yesterday. Currently puzzling out what hour he probably crashed into bed, her train of thought was derailed as her stomach bubbled angrily. Her amethyst eyes widened as a plan formed looking down on her slumbering owner. She knew just how to wake him up while still getting revenge.

Ignorant to whatever might be happening, Lyon continued to snore loudly as his thick sheets were delicately lifted above his head. Gingerly placing the edge of the blankets down, the quetzatickle paused for a moment before mischievously beaming when his snores resumed. Without a sound she gently placed her tail to anchor the blanket down, while she used her claws to make a slim opening for her protruding behind. Cringing as another cramp tore through her, she knew it was time to get this show started. Hesitantly she relaxed the guard on her anus, and immediately a deep hiss snaked its way into the confinement of the blankets. Immediately feeling the relief, she giggled softly as the fermented blend of fine fish and abundant beans started to fill the Dutch oven. Like a fine wine these ingredients had churned away over night to form an appalling concoction, now rapidly heating the space it was being pumped into. As the seconds ticked away the maid’s toothy grinned transitioned to one of pure relief, her loss of focus giving the gas leak an increase in volume. Now rasping and sputtering from underneath the base of her tail, the voluminous funk was seeping into her blissfully unaware master. He had been dreaming of meeting a beautiful woman, but he was only more enamored when he sensed a deadly fog reeking of seafood. Outside of his dreams, his maid’s tongue was lolling out as she lost control. As soon as the sputtering release ended, she produced a feminine grunt before unleashing a bass filled roar under the covers. While she may have been enveloped in pure relief, she let out a contrastingly cute squeak at the unplanned explosion.

Seemingly hearing an engine failing to start, Lyon started to wake up. Oh, but he felt as though he was in heaven. The overwhelming heat and hellish density of sulfur made him think he was still dreaming. In contrast to his groggy mind, he appeared to be fully alert below the belt. Not noticing this activity from beneath the folds of the blanket, his servant moaned as her eruption slowed to a whisper. Briefly collecting herself, she leapt onto the bed and pinned the corners of the blankets down around Lyon. Already chuckling at her trap, she faltered when Lyon remained unusually quiet. Straining her ears she though she heard… moaning? She shifted her weight on the mattress thinking she might have killed him, but Lyon was brought to lucidity by the rocking. Jumping in surprise he was caught against the weight of his pokémon. Feeling like he had just gone from heaven to hell, panic rose up within him. The now boisterously laughing quetzatickle fought back her writhing master for just a while longer. Recognizing that laugh, Lyon screamed in frustration, “This is not how you wake your owner up!” Satisfied he was sufficiently mad, she hopped off the bed with a loud creak. But while dismounting she brushed against something unusual protruding from underneath the blankets. At the side of the bed she was still snickering at her master’s misfortune, but inwardly she was pondering what she just felt. Tearing off the blanket, Lyon released an almost visible haze into the room. While maybe unobserved he would savor the toxin circulating around his room, the sight of his maid laughing uproariously encouraged him to hack and wheeze like his life depended on it. Laughing even harder at the sight, the quetzatickle accidentally breathed her own mixture, almost gagging before resuming her amusement. Only now her laughter was less certain. An instinctual part of her recognized something almost buried in stench. Arousal? Still mulling on why she would think of something as weird as that, she rushed out the door before he could yell again, making sure to shut it as she sped away.

Now left alone in a tangle of red sheets, Lyone was rapidly attempting to assess the situation. He tried taking deep breaths to calm down, but the thick and vile atmosphere only got his heart beating faster. Looking around, he noticed with great embarrassment the now obvious tent pitched in his lap. Scrambling to hide it, it took him a second to process it didn’t matter at the moment. Did she notice? Straining to recreate his previous pose he tried to rationalize, “I acted convincingly didn’t I? Surely she wouldn’t be laughing so hard if she noticed anything… uh, suspicious.” Only now starting to slow down, he reaffirmed the idea in his mind. “There’s plenty of blankets, it wasn’t obvious when they were all laying on top of me,” he thought. Shakily getting out of bed he looked at himself in the small mirror by his wardrobe. His hair was a mess and he was sweating bullets, probably both from the added heat to the room and his recent anxiety. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, having passed out only hours ago in bed. Quickly he tried to get something fresh on while he sniffed the air. This was horrendous, even for her. The situation might have excited him under different circumstances, but for now he threw open his window to clear the room. Looking outside, the gentle morning breeze and fluttering of leaves helped him regain his composure. “Things are fine, you’re just overreacting,” he told himself, watching the disk of light climb above the horizon. Turning back to his room he prepared his face in the mirror, there was no way she wouldn’t expect him to be angry after this.

Out in the hall, the quetzatickle was certainly not laughing anymore. Why did she think she smelled arousal? She was just getting her revenge on that idiot. Did she secretly want him to like her? She was just some servant, she wasn’t even human. Grasping the stone around her neck she could only sigh. Things were so much easier when they were just fighting gym leaders. Focusing her mind on how she had shredded through Viola’s bugs in Santalune City, she wistfully approached his bug badge she had proudly displayed on the shelf. She must have been really over leveled at that point, “Lyon couldn’t even do the gyms in the right order,” she thought to herself will a faint grin. Inspecting the tiny metallic beetle that was the bug badge, she almost dropped it when Lyon came stomping out. Jogging down the hallway he shouted, “That was disgusting!” Though his footfalls immediately dropped in intensity when he noticed her cradling the memento. “Oh,” he said a lot more quietly, almost immediately shedding his façade. Putting a hand on the back of his head he admitted, “I guess it has been a while since we stopped facing the league.” Now he thought he knew why he had deserved such a rotten awakening. He looked down at the tiled ground, unsure what to say next. Now it was the pokémon’s turn to feel bad, she just wanted to mess with this goof, not make him look so defeated.

While Lyon continued to think, he glanced up to catch the sight of his maid charging straight at him. “Shit, this is how I die,” he thought witnessing the dinosaur race towards him. Closing his eyes before impact, he only opened them upon feeling soft feathers graze the back of his neck. The shock only seemed to amplify the feeling, and he burst into laughter as she launched her attack. “Stop it, stoooop!” Lyon reacted, and to his surprise she immediately relented and flashed him a toothy grin. Catching his breath Lyon paused before saying, “Maybe we should just have some breakfast.” The quetzatickle nodded enthusiastically upon hearing the suggestion and headed towards the kitchen. Hearing the clatter of claws move away, Lyon exhaled deeply. He already had his fill of action for today, and it had hardly even started. He straightened his back and focused his eyes. Now without some emotion coursing through him, he was reminded he felt like garbage from being woken up so early. “Oh well,” he thought, “It’s not like I could get back to sleep anytime soon after this anyway.”

Out in the kitchen, the quetzatickle was going all out. She figured there was no better way to clear her head than doing her duties. Moving pans and flipping utensils, she supposed a large breakfast would smooth things out. Creating a song of clanking metal and sizzling steam, the lively maid hardly noticed how much time she had putt into the meal. Lyon decided to putz around while she worked, focusing on the fantastic smells drifting around the chateau. Once half an hour had gone by, he ventured into the kitchen, watching the large figure effortless juggle pots and pans. At the moment she was preoccupied with something in the oven, and Lyon had eyed a carton of eggs by an already prepped pan. Maybe he could help out? Walking over to the stove, he put a finger on his chin. “Even I know how to cook eggs, right?” he silently questioned himself. Cracking a couple eggs, he watched their contents crackle across the heated surface. Patting himself on the back he thought, “Too easy!” After a few moments of watching the mass of eggs heat, his interest dimmed. Instead his eyes drifted the real cook across the room. He always enjoyed watching someone as intimidating as her move with such grace. Her large talons handled the pan while she managed to keep her feathers out of harm’s way. Her naturally feathered dress was spotless. Her tail swished with the rhythm of an unsung tune. It was difficult to believe she wreaked such havoc on his bed only a bit earlier. Though he chuckled at the thought, “that only makes it better.”

Still in a daze, he only registered the glare he was getting from the pokémon across the room a few seconds too late. “What? I can help you cook if I feel like it!” he protested, before following the path of her gaze. Turning around he realized his milky white eggs had become closer to charcoal in coloration. Lyon scrambled to handle the situation, while the quetzatickle could only chortle noisily. He had one job she hadn’t even given him and he still screwed it up. “Oh, but it was sweet he even tried,” she considered. Feeling the scales on her face glow red, she promptly turned around. “Stupid idiot,” she thought as she huffed in disappointment. Meanwhile Lyon was on the other side of the kitchen, desperately trying to salvage his culinary creation. It was incredibly burnt, but he wouldn’t admit defeat so easily! Depositing the molten mass on a plate, he looked for a way to fix it. Spotting a red bottle, he squeezed the sauce from it vigorously. It was absolute heresy against the fine cooking of Kalos, but smothering his creation in ketchup at least hid how horrendous it looked. Engrossed in examining his work, he hadn’t noticed when his maid approached. Lyon was already prepared to defend his dish, but instead he was softly pushed back by her tail. Looking at Lyon with a face that could only say, “Really?”, Lyon took the hint and started to leave. “It’s probably not that bad,” he added, before closing the door behind him. Now alone again in the noisy kitchen, she looked again at the burnt eggs. She pondered, “It’s nice he’s at least trying something new…” Curiosity overwhelming her she ventured a bite of the gastronomic mistake. Unsurprisingly it tasted awful, a mixture of cheap ketchup and burnt flakes. Grimacing she picked up the plate and approached the waste bin. “But he seemed so excited to make something,” she considered. “And I wouldn’t want to waste food, unlike him!” Making a quick check for witnesses, she gulped the charred morsel, attempting to speed the “food” past her own taste buds. She nearly choked on the mess but managed to keep it down. “Lyon’s lucky I’m not nearly as wasteful as him” she thought, but was unable to ponder further as the hissing of kettles demanded her attention.

A quarter of an hour later, Lyon was roused by the ringing a little silver bell. “I can’t wait to see what you spent so much time on,” he called out while entering the dining room. The dining room was meticulously decorated like the rest of the chateau, detailed paintings of ancient Kalos wars hung on every wall, and wide windows afforded a view into the elegant hills surrounding them. The table itself was much larger than the single human resident of the estate would ever need, equipped to handle ten guests when at most he might invite two. There was a small counter for the help to dine, but Lyon insisted his quetzatickle eat with him. Having anyone else at the table stifled the lonely atmosphere the space normally radiated. His mind wasn’t on the décor now, instead his eyes went wide at the array spread out before him. There was a wide variety of pancakes, exquisite sausages, and a plethora of berry juice mixes. She had even roasted the last of the fish, prepared thinly sliced ham, and baked a colorful pot from the last of the poké beans. He figured the latter were made for herself, even though he had read online humans could eat them, he was hesitant to try. The oversized maid pulled out his chair before somewhat awkwardly seating herself in an undersized chair. She had initially been quite hesitant to sit with her master against her training, but now she considered it her duty to eat with him. She did however retain her manners at the dining table, using a silver knife to slice her fish. “We’ve been over this,” Lyon said as he reached for a plate, “I don’t care if you use your claws to eat.” In response she huffed before angling her snout in the air, she had standards unlike him. “Oh, but waking up your master however you please is so refined?” countered Lyon. The velociraptor waved a feathered hand to dismiss the notion and tucked into her meal. Lyon shrugged and did the same. It didn’t take long before he had eaten his fill of delicious food, unlike the voracious predator in front of him, restrained to delicate nibbling by her proper techniques. Satisfied, Lyon got up and prepared to leave his maid still eating after he was done like usual, when an idea struck him.

Moving out of the dining room, Lyon began to shuffle through the pantry trying to find something. Inside the dining room, the quetzatickle pivoted her head to make sure she was alone. She may have had standards, but they didn’t apply without company. Leaning over the table, she gracelessly snatched an entire roasted fish in her maw. Still tasting her catch, she froze when she heard the door behind her slam open. Without a better plan she swallowed the entire fish whole before jerking her head to make sure she hadn’t been caught. Lyon was proud of his successful hunt and presented a large bottle from the doorway. “I found it!” he enthusiastically yelled, unaware his maid was groaning from forcing an entire fish down her gullet. “Finely aged bluk berry wine!” he continued, “Come on we can share some.” Urgently gesturing for the bottle, the quetzatickle unceremoniously uncorked and chugged the bottle’s bittersweet contents to clear her throat. A little taken aback, but excited to see his idea succeed, Lyon loudly replied “Woah, I didn’t know you liked this stuff so much, I’ll grab some more!” As he headed back into the pantry, he was pleased his idea to get some wine for his sleep deprived headache had become so popular. Meanwhile his maid was muffling an unladylike belch from guzzling the wine so fast. Her stomach may have been upset from the sudden additions, but the wine added a pleasant warmth. She had never drank something like wine, but she found herself enjoying the aftertaste. “Another drink couldn’t hurt,” she thought, following Lyon’s path towards the pantries.

Several hours had gone by, only outpaced by the number of bottles the two had already emptied. Most of that time had been spent by Lyon giddily but poorly explaining his game to the clueless dinosaur. She couldn’t care less about the rare equipment his tiny guy was dancing across the battlefield with, it was just a pleasant change of pace from seeing him hit keys in silence. She even found herself laughing when Lyon spilled his glass after getting obliterated by a rocket. “Not fair!” he yelled, the overconsumption of wine already starting to slur his speech. The quetzatickle dove down to clean the spill from the tiled floor. Out of the pair she was the least coordinated, having already quaffed more than her fair share of bottles. It certainly wasn’t elegant, but she managed to wipe up the dark purple puddle without making it worse. Lyon entered a new area in his game, and a tinny MIDI of classical music blared from his speakers. “Kind of makes you want to dance, ha ha, right?” Lyon spontaneously added, twisting in place in his neon chair. Leering down on the drunken spectacle, she returned a mischievous smile. “Did I say somefin weird?” Lyon replied looking back, before a clawed hand pulled him out of his seat.

Lyon gasped while he got his balance. Helping him get steady was the gentle grip of talons on his hand. He had never thought about it, but now he realized just how large her hands were compared to his. Squeezing back more carefully, he did his best to wrap his fingers around her killer claws. She may have been scaled, but she was surprisingly smooth… even warm under those feathers. While his pokémon might have been rowdy at times, she had never actually grabbed him like this. She thought his pale fingers seemed delicately soft, so she made sure to hold gently. It was hard to tell if either of them were blushing, given that both their faces had become red from inebriation long ago. Now hand in hand, Lyon looked around trying to figure out exactly what she intended to do. She on the other hand flinched a bit as she realized she hand been fixated on his hands for an uncomfortably long moment. Putting her plan into motion, she began to swing her arms a bit while doing her best to shift her legs. She may have been trained as a maid, but not as a dancer. That didn’t stop her from wanting to try. Lyon started to catch on to her intentions and attempted to lead her into a waltz.

Given a multitude of factors like the fact Lyon hadn’t attended a dance class since he was forced to a decade ago, or that both members were scarcely standing, the waltz was far from sophisticated. Despite this, the drunken swaying combined with the feeling of each other was more than enough to fuel their efforts. Even if the angry bubbling of his dance partner’s stomach was starting to drown out the shitty music from his speakers, Lyon hardly noticed. Neither of them even recognized when the raptor’s necklace began to sparkle. Holding each other closer now, partially for support and partially for a growing intimacy, the couple unconsciously felt each other’s bodies. Lyon was irresistibly soft to the dinosaur, he even smelled attractively musky. From his perspective his companion was compellingly alluring. Her feathers gently caressed him from the friction of drunkenly dancing. Underneath her plumage and cushioned hide, he also felt a powerful churning from within her gut. Drawing his attention away however was a dull pink glow, not just from her eyes, but instead around her neck. “Huh?” was all he managed to mutter before a pink flash filled the living room.

An interesting fact about mega stones, is that they require a trainer and his pokémon to have developed an unshakeable bond. Neither of them were conscious of such a development, but that moment of intimacy had sparked a transformation in the quetzatickle. As the flash of light subsided, the silhouette of Lyon’s maid had drastically changed. Her figure was even larger, and her head was topped with a purple headdress. Her uniform had bloomed into a large regal dress. In general, her body had lengthened like an ancient dragon, and her feathers only grew larger. Regardless of the change, she kept enveloping Lyon’s hands in hers.

Even if Lyon was in the midst of a stupor, his eyes widened at the magical sight. Breathing deeply in awe, he abruptly gagged. Looking up at her reptilian face, he recognized her expression had melted into relief. It was deadly silent, but fumes nearly as bitter as the wine she drank had begun to leak into the air around them. In his current state Lyon was incapable of acting, and instead took another deep breath. During her transformation the quetzatickle hadn’t planned on this, but energy that welled up within her made the mounting gastronomical pressure unbearable. Only now catching herself, she forcibly stopped the release before instinctually sniffing the air. Wincing at her own creation, her composure changed to confusion when she smelled it again. Arousal? Frustrated by the bizarre occurrence happening again, she looked over to Lyon. “How strange,” she thought, “Normally he would be throwing a fit right now.” Inspecting him more closely she saw underneath his dazed eyes a dopey smile. Bearing her fangs wickedly at the thought she hatched a new idea. She was going to test this little suspicion of hers.

Lyon’s brain was already overwhelmed by the events unfolding before him. His capacity for rational thought was low in his current state, so as his now resplendent maid wrapped her newfound lengthy tail around him, he could only sputter, “What, what’s going on here?” With surprising ease the draconic woman coiled her tail around her master, and swept him under the frills of her heavy dress. Plunged into darkness, Lyon would have panicked if he wasn’t being held so firmly. Breathing quicker he found that the toxicity of the air had tripled under the confines of her feathers. Still trying to orient himself he was caught off guard when a gust of humid heat trumpeted into his face. The stench was inhuman, a landfill composed entirely of bitter berries and expired fish. He desperately wanted to fan the vile concoction away from his nose, but his arms were bound. Unable to resist, he felt his nose hairs burn in the confined space under his own servant’s ass. Incapable of lessening the overpowering aroma, he found his breathing become labored despite the restrained grasp around his body. The horrific mixture was absolutely enchanting to him, even if a portion of his mind was still trying to resist. In the less tainted air of the living room, the quetzatickle tilted her head, expecting muffled screaming, but none came. Inquisitively she tightened her coil below her master’s waist. Bingo. She felt a stiffening protrusion from below the belt. Smiling deviously, she still had trouble believing it. Of course a dweeb like him would secretly like huffing her farts. Craning her neck towards Lyon’s bedroom, she had another idea. “Well if he’s such a big fan, and I’ve got so much to give, maybe we can both be happy…”

Still shrouded in darkness, Lyon felt a dawning horror as he realized what was happening. He had to scream or something to maintain his cover. Was it already too late? Opening his mouth to start, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a short poot warbling out of her ass. “Oh Arceus it tastes even worse than it smells,” he thought, caught between revulsion and adoration. Then he felt himself begin jolting as his captor started moving. He thought of protesting but the rapid fire puffs of hot air involuntarily squeaking out of her with each step kept him from acting. The short walk felt like ages to him, but it was less than a minute in reality. Lyon was so lost in the situation, he hardly noticed when he was released into the cool clean air of his bedroom.

The blinds were drawn and only faint light trickled into his room, but he recognized his bed before he was dropped with a gentle “pomf,” into his cushioned red bed. Shifting his gaze upwards, he was both intimidated and amazed by the large silhouette leaning over him. Trying to think of something to say, he nearly jumped when she utilized her lengthy neck to bring her face closer to his. Amethyst orbs peering into him, he was caught by surprise when she sneakily propped his head further up using her tail and locked lips. “There is NO way this is happening,” Lyon thought as he felt her reptilian tongue slither outwards. The warmth of her lengthy tongue exploring the details of his mouth loosened his body as his resistance was swept away. Their embrace went on longer until she retracted her tongue with a wet pop and lowered her eyelids at him. Thinking of anything to say at a time like this, he was startled when she dropped his head with her tail, only to wrap it around the top of his head before it could hit the mattress.

Once again back in darkness, he realized only his eyes had been blocked by this maneuver. Feeling around with his arms, he froze at the sound of fabric tearing just below his neck. Feeling cool air on his chest, he realized she had split his shirt in half with her talons. “Now what on ear-“ Lyon started, before he was brought a standstill from warm breath tickling his neck. Shivering at the sensation, he almost jerked when he felt a delicate feather trail up his side. It was torture, but Lyon tried not to squirm when he was rocked by an unexpected touch. Deprived of sight, he found his skin incredibly sensitive to any unexpected stimulation. Feeling even the faintest movement of air, he wriggled when he was unexpectedly jolted by her lengthy tongue swirling around his chest, leaving a trail of warm saliva wherever it went. Despite the pleasure, Lyon was unsure if this was just some elaborate joke she was playing on him. His anxiety was only bolstered by the sound of more fabric ripping. With a gulp he recognized the cool air on his now exposed member. He was absolutely diamonds, there was no hiding it now. Lyon started to mumble something, but was silenced by a moan when he felt feathers dance along the length of his shaft. Now both incapable and unwilling to stop what she was planning, he grew anxious as he felt shifting on the bed. “What’s happening?” he hoarsely whispered before he heard a feminine grunt. What followed was an explosion of methane, only felt by Lyon as an obscene wind teasing his cock with a forceful stream of searing steam. As the onslaught continued Lyon could only buck his hips into the air while his partner moaned unabashedly from the drop in internal pressure. They went on like this for nearly twenty seconds, until the beast’s roar reduced to a squeak. With both of them now panting in the smoldering cloud surrounding the bed, Lyon’s vision returned to him when the quetzatickle eased her grip.

Crouching in front of him with her dress hiked up was his maid, still lost in the bliss of her long-delayed release. Lyon squinted his eyes in the dim light and caught a glint below the base of her tail. Under her almost smoking asshole was a slit, revealing itself with a trickle of moisture that reflected the dim light outside. Feeling a surge of confidence, Lyon pulled himself up by the base of her tail and slammed his hips forward. The regal maid could only yelp in surprise as her master directly hit his mark. Taking control of the situation, Lyon forced the length of his shaft deeper into his gargantuan partner. She tried to turn her head and give Lyon a glare for such a stunt, but she could only whimper as she felt her insides prodded. Brushing past her folds as far in as he could get, Lyon pulled back quickly leaving only the tip, before slamming with a wet slap back inside her. The maid moaned loudly, but it was covered by the resounding ass blast she produced from the motion. Lyon was only emboldened by this cacophony blowing his hair back, causing him to increase his pace. Between Lyon’s fevered thrusting and his partner’s obscene backdraft, the chateau was filled with the sound of their coupling. Now drawing incredibly close, he felt the walls around his shaft tense around him. With one final blow he erupted inside of her, causing her to reciprocate and almost milk the very life essence out of him. With such a loss of control she emptied the contents of her roiling stomach.

The burst of gas lifted her dress easily, burning Lyon’s nose and hurting his lungs. After losing track of how many loads he fired, Lyon finally pulled out as his dazed partner kept puttering out her emissions. When the noise of the room died down to only their fevered breathing, a soft pink glow illuminated the room before a more manageably sized quetzatickle was left on the bed. Still leaking from between her legs, she wrapped herself around her exhausted master. The time of day didn’t matter anymore, as the spent Lyon promptly passed out. Tired herself, the quetzatickle gently raked his hair while thinking, “We’re going to have to do this more often.” Smirking to herself, she tightened her embrace around him before falling asleep in the tangle of limbs and blankets.

Days later, stories about a trainer and his exotic pokémon pressing their way through the Kalos League one again would begin to surface. Ignoring the occasional comment of an offensive odor, the two were reported as inseparable.