The Big Valentine Special

Valentines Short Stories:

A Bubble Bath for Two (Big Squid on Campus) – Line 15
Over-Bearing Boss (Bear of a Boss) – Line 108
Cooking Up Some Love (Violet Vapors) – Line 187
Draconic Desires (Hide of Iron) – Line 261
Shadows in the Night (An Unusual Love Triangle) – Line 328
Earth-Themed Date Night (Excorp Exhaust Incident) – Line 439
Sneaking Some Chocolates (Vortigaunt Studies) – Line 542
Bombshell Babe (A Very Graceful Deathclaw) – Line 614




A Bubble Bath for Two (Big Squid on Campus)

	In contrast to the scorching sun over the arid landscape, the inside of this apartment was dark and cluttered. Mounds of books and beakers and Bunsen burners stood silent saved for the incessant sound of scribbling pencils and a clattering keyboard. The source of this noise was a colossal squid woman, eyes faintly glowing bioluminescent blue in the dull light of her monitor. Emiko was nearing yet another exam in a few days, and she had her nearly nine foot frame hunched over her regular sized computer to go over everything again. Unable to process more than her courses demanded from her, she mumbled incoherently about the chemistry of lanthanides and actinides while jotting more notes down.

	She wasn’t aware if this trance had lasted hours or days, but eventually a crack of sunlight from her door opening struck her abyssal eyes like a blinding laser. Dumbfounded and squinting through her glasses, she spotted a human silhouette carefully navigating her maze of discarded junk food, clothing, and textbooks. Having long since lost any reflexes to incessant studying, she didn’t register what was happening until he spoke.

	“Emiko? How long have you been locked inside like this?” Adam might have worked maintenance indoors a good part of the day, but her boyfriend still had trouble comprehending just how easily she could become a complete academic recluse. It took a moment, but the fresh air and gentle touch on her shoulder brought her senses back.

	“Huh? Oh, Adam! I uh… I d-don’t really know how long it’s been but the professor assigned way more this week.” The man started to say something, but he was quickly lifted by two tentacles into a tight hug against her neglected clothes. “It’s so sweet of you to visit! I’m sorry I’ve been so busy I couldn’t set up another KW session…”

	Still held firmly by the arms elastically wrapped around him, he cleared his throat before continuing. “I know it isn’t much, but I got something a little special for us on this special day.” Looking up for her reaction, he wasn’t expecting to see her freeze with the face of someone who showed up to a test after studying the wrong material.

	“Sp-special day?” She avoided eye contact as she looked to space for inspiration that would never come. “It’s um, just Saturday. Right? R-right?”

	Still being held tightly against her, he was within reach to delicately stroke the side of her face and plant a quick kiss on her cheek. The gesture may have been relatively small, but it was enough to make the aquatic giant coo in delight and have the little tentacles on her face swish appreciatively.

	“No Em, it’s Sunday. I thought you might need something like this so I booked us a nice couple’s suite for Valentine’s day.” She might have calmed down enough to look him in the eyes again, but the mention of Valentine’s day signaled a surge of panic as well as a loud growl of protest from her stomach.

	“No way, there’s just n-no way! I didn’t even know that was coming up and even though that’s so n-nice I don’t know if I can st-stop studying so suddenly I mean I didn’t even get you anything I’m simply terrible, a sad excuse for a girlf-” She was silently shushed by the stroke of fingertips over the edges of the large fin on her head.

	“I know this is a busy time for you, so all I ask is that you make the time to spend tonight with me. Besides, I think a night away from this would do you some good.” Gesturing to her unkempt lair that had sprung around this flurry of exams, Emiko still sounded like she was submerged in disbelief.

	“That’s much too nice… I’m not even dressed for eating somewhere decent.” She wasn’t wrong in her assessment. Depositing Adam in her lap to gesture to herself, it was apparent just how disheveled her stained lab coat look draped over a sweater and sweatpants.

	Already standing up to tug her arm, he pointed to the door. “Come on, you’re beautiful to me no matter what. The car’s just outside.” Unsure how to handle such an outpouring of considerate affection, Emiko took his hand and followed him in a daze.

. . .

	This wasn’t some daydream however, because the reality of the situation dawned on her as she followed Adam through the numbered door. He smiled proudly, gesturing to the fixtures in the room. A large ornate red bed with heart-shaped cushions, and a similarly themed indent in the middle of the room forming a luxurious hot tub built before an immense television. With arms wide he boasted, “Can you believe it? This was advertised as being made for ‘large partners’ and I even got a good deal on it!”

	Emiko didn’t respond at first. The realization the ceiling was comfortably high, and that she could sleep/bathe in something that wasn’t meant for someone half her size for the first time in months was still sinking in. She only got the luxury of appropriately sized furniture visiting family. The sight was just so beautiful she needed a moment. Aware that she frequently complained about the small stature of her apartment but not quite how much this meant to her, he continued. “Now do you want to try going somewhere later tonight? Maybe a specific place to eat?”

	His answer came in the form of a large pink blur squeezing him tightly and rolling the unprepared man onto the bed. “This is amazing! You’re the best! I don’t even need to go anywhere tonight, let’s just stay here. We can even order pizza and just stay cozy, my treat I’ll pay for it and light candles and all that.”

	A little woozy from being pinned by the pillowy mountain of lovestruck woman, he held the tips of her tentacles like hands for what he was about to say next. With a small blush he confessed to his plans, “I had a feeling you would say something like that… I swiped some random DVDs from your collection before we left for tonight.”

	Ecstatically Emiko wiggled on top of the bed, making it creak and shake while also burying her cuddled captive in her cleavage. As much as she wanted to express her joy the words simply couldn’t come out. Yet in her tongue-tied moment, her other end answered plainly for her. Leftover gas from microwaved garbage rolling around in her system and agitated by the anxious surprise came trumpeting out with a high pitch flutter and enough force to ripple the bedsheets for several seconds.

	Stopping her giddy movements for a moment, she curled her tentacles into a sheepish smile and pointlessly attempted to fan the cloud of stale soy sauce and sour fish rising from her rear into another direction. “Sorry… about that…” She held him tighter to emphasize her next words. “I think this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Well you’re the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

 Emiko answered with a nearly inaudible “Awwwww” before cuddling into the bed with him.

. . .

	Much later the stars shone outside beautifully, but neither of them would pay that any mind with curtains firmly drawn. After ordering enough food to nearly rival the amount Adam spent on the room, the two laid nude and relaxed in the hot tub surrounded by emptied pizza boxes with haphazardly distributed candles for romantic lighting. The majority of that grease and cheese sat underneath Adam, who had casually drifted onto her obscenely bloated belly so she could better nuzzle into him.

	Content in the warm water, she lovingly rubbed the little feelers on her face through his hair as she digested the ungodly amount of meat and dairy while becoming mutually entranced by the subtitled spectacle of flashing colors and exaggerated animated battles. Holding his hands for both comfort and his balance laying on her, she felt him stir to ask a question. “So he’s the bad guy, right?”

	She was fully ready to elaborate on the complexly nuanced morality of the universally panned anime, but a push of his leg sent a previously stuck pocket of gas racing through her insides with a gurgle. Only a second after his movement a jet of bubbles streamed out of her vibrating rear with an impressively loud rumble against the tub despite being muffled by the water. Unaware just how much noxious exhaust had already brewed inside her, she was caught off guard by the droning flurry of bubbles drowning out more than a couple lines from the TV before dying out.

	Sighing with relief, it became clear to even her less developed sense of smell that the extra anchovies were a bad idea. The odor rising from the surface of the water in large bursting bubbles like a swamp was downright blasphemous. Expired mozzarella soaked in wet brimstone and a strong beefy stench nearly overpowering the usual fishy aroma were just a couple horrific things one could identify in the plume of flatulence.

	Yet Adam didn’t say a word. She also tried not to make a big deal of the “little” incident, but it seemed like that first leak just shifted the rest of her internal gas factory into full production. Moments later a short but forceful blast followed her latest release with choppy reverberations against the smooth material. Unable to stem the flow, only a minute went by before the next crude outburst of garlic-infused steam buzzed through the water like a soaked chainsaw.

	Aware she might be ruining the atmosphere of the room in multiple ways, she covered her face with a blush. “I’m so sorry for that… really it’s awful, I know I shouldn’t eat pizza but I still packed away so many slices…”

	The man riding her turbulent midsection still churning through a stockpile of unreleased gas rolled over to face her directly. “Hey it’s fine, it’s just your way of showing how relaxed you are.” His gaze drifted down the sight of her uncovered body through a veil of bubble-rippled water and the reflection of whatever was happening on TV. “Besides… you know… it’s weird to say it but… you know I like it…”

	The culprit of such ungodly underwater detonations shared a mutual blush with him as he rubbed the back of his neck. What he just admitted to was definitely an unspoken understanding, but it felt strangely heartwarming for her to hear it out loud. With a nervous laugh she pulled him in for a small beaked smooch. “Ha… I guess that means you wouldn’t mind if I really start unloading?”

	Tracing a finger around her sensitive smooth rosy skin, he palmed the curve of her rounded stomach with an infatuated squeeze. “Nothing would make me happier.”

	With those 5 magic words, any seal on her ass was broken. Melting into his touch, she sunk into the warm water a couple inches as she spread her legs wide to accommodate what her tensed tummy was pushing out. Lifting an arm to grip the side of the tub with a tentacle, she let all hell burst from between her ample cheeks.

	A bassy roar erupted from below as she exploded like an undersea pipeline full of nothing but high pressure fermented Italian fumes. In such close proximity Adam felt her gassy gut pitch and roll like a water bed full of broiling liquid. Her previously tightly wrapped tentacle around his hand loosened from her previous concentration as her efforts were rewarded with countless large pockets of tainted air flying and shaking in the water before violently breaching the surface. The sheer volume of foul flatulence displaced enough water to make the tub bubble and boil like she had turned on all the jets.

	Despite the nasal napalm of extra pepperoni laid over a wet market swiftly overtaking any previously clean air in the room, he took a deep breath and stifled a cough to plant the deepest kiss of the night on her blissfully relieved face. Her previously screwed shut eyes opened just slightly with a faint blue glow to show her surprise, but relaxing into his affection she let the ongoing outpour of gas reach a crescendo while returning the gesture.

	A few seconds later as her monstrous bubble jet purred to a low reverberating finish and the last bubbles popped like a carbonated drink, the lovers remained with mouths affixed to each other. Outlasting the outlandish twelve second fart, the couple finally broke their make out session to take deep breaths of the tangibly humid air saturated with the worst her insides had to offer.

“That was amazing…”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

	Sliding lower and lower down her body to explore more of it, Adam spoke to the mounting desire in his heart. “You know we’ve already got everything off, we could get to the ‘fun stuff’…. Right. Now.”

	Emiko giggled like a school girl from his advances despite just dropping an indigestion fueled bomb that would make a whale blush. “I can recap what we miss later… go for it.”

. . .

	After more than enough lovemaking throughout the night to justify the price of the room and temporarily empty her raucous hindquarters, the two had shifted to the bed and were content to absorb the afterglow. They had missed more than a season, but that didn’t stop Emiko from making the occasional whisper about what was going on in the series between sweet exchanges of “I love you” and “You make my life complete.” Of course every heartfelt utterance was more than true, but it was all quickly repeated in the euphoric fog of passion as though they wanted to make doubly sure that fact was out there.

	Next morning they would be well rested and ready to get back to the usual grind, but for now they had each other in this seemingly endless night and absolutely no worries.






Over-Bearing Boss (Bear of a Boss)

	Inside the towering building that formed the Playwell Corporate Headquarters, grey skies pummeled the large windows with a mixture of rain and sleet. Walking through the dreary weather, Vincent entered the company lobby early as usual. Even if he was secretly dating his boss as well as the new owner of the whole business, it was still his job as her assistant to get everything organized and ready before she showed up. Waving to the brightly feathered girl at the desk, his attention was caught by the numerous Valentine’s Day themed decorations overlaying most of the usual advertisements for the latest toys.

	This was an important time of year for everyone, the first big boom in business after Christmas to sell anything cute with a heart on it. Now that the big day was here however, things would calm down a little as Marzy’s hectic schedule shifted to reviewing results rather than frantically throwing around product designs and charts estimating the cost of textiles, plastic, and small electronics to make the stuffed animals play musical jingles.

	Drying off his suit in the elevator, he began planning something considerably less professional. What could he do for Marzy today? What do you get the bear that has everything? Obviously he couldn’t do anything at work to maintain neutral appearances, but maybe afterwards she’d like to visit the park? She’d probably like something peaceful and small like that, just a nice walk under a big umbrella. Maybe even an opportunity for a little outing somewhere cozy and private. Thinking of just how best to treat her tonight, he absentmindedly made the route to her office and to his own desk.

	Shuffling open a couple drawers however, he was caught by surprise as a miniature spray of red and white confetti loudly popped into the air around him. More than a little bewildered, he noticed his usual items were buried in a layer of heart-shaped candies and a previously smooshed teddy bear that slowly unfolded itself to reveal the large message in it’s paws, “I LUV U”.  The tag meant to say who this surprise came from simply read “Your Secret Admirer” in glittery red ink.

	Still recovering from the shock the bits of paper now lazily drifting around him delivered, he nearly jumped out of his skin as the living teddy bear herself pushed open the door excitedly. “SURPRISE! Happy Valentines Day!” Shocked to see her in the office so early, he simply watched with wide eyes as she walked closer to elaborate. “Gee, I sure d-don’t know who this ‘secret admirer’ is, but she must be one lucky woman…” A stutter momentarily crept into her excited voice, a sign that she had trouble lying even for such an obvious joke.

	Not done yet, she looked him in the eyes to give a wink as a hint just who set this surprise up for him. Then she winked again. Really wanting to cement who this mystery woman could be, she gave one last exaggerated wink with a tilt of her head and an enthusiastic little shake of her wide hips. His racing heart rate relaxed as he took in the almost diabetically sweet sight. Still thinking of what he wanted to say, he only needed to open his arms before she ran at him for a hug. As shy as she could be in meetings, she had completely opened herself up with him in private over the months.

	Nuzzling a soft fuzzy cheek into his, she held him tightly only to remove a bear paw for a moment to push her trademark tiny top hat back into place. “Marzy, you didn’t have to do anything special…”

	She grinned widely despite his weak protests. “Nonsense! I love to celebrate the holidays and this one is sp-special. It’s our first Valentines together…” Pulling back to emphasize her next words she lowered her voice a little. “I’m going to make today perfect. You just keep doing your job and maybe a few more surprises like that might happen today…” She raised both her eyebrows suggestively in unison, quickly repeating the motion to make it abundantly clear she already had more planned.

	Feeling a little mixed by the implications of more confetti bursting at random during work hours, he couldn’t resist those joyful brown eyes and planted a kiss on her furry forehead. “Okay I’ll keep my eyes peeled, and don’t worry because it’s already a gift we get to spend the workday together unlike most couples.” Easing into his own chair as she mounted her own contrastingly giant executive seat, he looked to the itinerary. “Today looks like it will be a little slower but you’ve still got a marketing webinar in half an hour and a-”

	He was cut off by a monstrous guttural growl from the short pear-shaped brown bear. She flashed him an apologetic face before lifting a hand for him to pause for a moment. Leaning to one side she lifted one half of her heavy “assets” to relieve a little pressure. With a look of concentration a low hum exited her backside and rumbled against the leather, gradually increasing in volume and intensity like a fluttering sail in an increasingly worsening windstorm. With a soft bite of her lip the ongoing fart softened to a raspy finish that flooded the room with an extra wave of burned coffee beans and scrambled eggs from breakfast.

	She sighed shortly and cutely in contrast to the terribly unladylike gale, speaking up again while blushing sheepishly. “Whewww, s-sorry about that I’m full of coffee to wake up early and fight off the deep hib-hibernation sleep…” Fanning the heated air still leaking from under her skirt like a smoking barrel she leaned over for a hoarse whisper. “This wasn’t p-part of the pl-plan, but could you rub my stomach a bit b-before this next meeting? Even if it’s a webinar I can’t trust I’ll hit the mute button on time… or n-not make a face that makes it obvious...”

. . .

	True to her word, Vincent’s day was full of little surprises other than the beastly bombs she could drop after guzzling a pot of coffee. Those could hardly be called little or at this point unexpected from her. Instead the things to catch him off guard included an “unexpected visitor” that turned out to be a singing telegram, an avalanche of small enamored toys dropping from her mail box all addressed to “Vince My Love,” and an absurdly large box of chocolates delivered during his lunch break from an “anonymous” source. A couple coworkers either retched at the sickeningly saccharine gifts or congratulated him, but deep down he was getting more and more insecure about his meager plan to simply walk in the park with her after work.

	When the sun set and the clock finally reaching closer and closer to the end of their work day, Vincent knew he couldn’t delay talking about their plans for the evening any longer. Yet, she wasn’t in her office when he looked. In fact she seemed to have simply evaporated after the last meeting on the docket. Looking over her desk, he tried not to cringe at the nearly imprinted smell Marzy had worked into the seat of her chair day in and day out. That needed something stronger than air freshener. He was shaken back to reality when a text vibrated his personal phone.

“Meet me at the entrance <3”

. . .

	Outside the revolving doors of the towering building, Vincent braced himself for anything to happen. However he only spotted a familiar limo, the one his boss normally got chauffeured around in. He approached cautiously before the door sprung open and a couple heart shaped balloons drifted out. Fumbling through the rest of the inflatables crowding the ceiling of the vehicle, the stocky woman emerged with arms spread grandly. The most surprising aspect of all was that she had already made a full outfit change. Just for tonight she wore a deep red tuxedo, complete with a large pink flower on her chest, and pants custom made to fit her thick frame.

	“Ta-da! Check out this snazzy outfit I got for the special day!” Swaying a little to show off the new threads she caught the gaze of an employee leaving to the parking lot. In a forced tone she raised her volume “YEAH, y-yup, I need your assis-assistance with something my ASSISTANT!” As the uninterested office worker continued on his way she breathed a sigh of relief at the success of her flawless plan. Collecting herself for a moment she put on her best sultry tone. “Come on and get in the smooch-mobile…” Puckering her lips to finish the sentence, Vincent made sure to climb into the reverse gravity ball pit of balloons with her and shut the door before returning the gesture.

	After the first kiss Marzy practically assaulted him with a flurry of cherry lipstick on his face. “Okay we’re going back to my place for dinner. I couldn’t decide on doing a big surf and turf feast by the pool, or a crazy spread of sweets in the garden with a chocolate fountain, or Mediterranean in the ballroom, or fancy French cuisine on the balcony.”

	Batting stray balloons out of his way he held her bear paw with a soft squeeze. “Come on, you know I’d be more than happy simply swinging by the drive thru with you.”

	She raised an arm wildly in the air to scatter more of the shiny red hearts on strings. “Oh no no no, I went with ALL OF THEM!” Sliding in her seat to hug him tightly she continued. “Everything will be prepared by the time we get there, isn’t it great!?”

	He tugged nervously at his collar, feeling like things were becoming increasingly one sided with her unintentional show of wealth. Yet the way she smiled contently in his arms, the details grew increasingly unimportant as they snuggled like lovestruck high schoolers on the way to prom in the backseat.

. . .

	The lights of the city twinkled in the distance over the hills around Marzy’s lavish estate. Matching the opulence was the remains of their fourth romantic dinner that night. Long slender candles illuminated expensive plates now only left with crumbs and smudges of sauce. With an elongated belch that made their silverware shake, the lady of the house finished stowing away yet another course of rich dessert. Apologetically covering her mouth with a dainty movement, it briefly seemed impossible something so crude could come from someone her size.

	“Excuse me… I know you’re a bit of a li-light eater and I didn’t want anything to go to waste.” As evidence to her efforts making sure every delicious bite was eaten, her suit was stretched taut by her belly. Enough so that a trip to a tailor was needed after a couple buttons whizzed off to make more room for the many servings of thick steak and chocolate cake bubbling together into one volatile brew. After a short pause she raised her voice towards the one at the opposite side of the awkwardly large table. “Was the f-food any good Vince? You seem awfully qu-quiet…”

	He decided to stand from his chair to get close and personal with his date after thinking about this all night. “No, the food was fantastic. I just… It’s stupid.”

She managed to hop off her seat with a heavy thud, and invited him to sit down. “No it’s not, tell me what’s on your mind.”

	He took her seat warmed by those prodigious bear buns, only to have the wind knocked out of him as she sat squarely in his lap with a look of concern. “Look it’s stupid, but sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t be treated like this. There’s no way I could ever return the favor of not one but four extravagant dinners in one night…”

	In response she wrapped her arms around the back of his head and pulled him in close. “Don’t look at it that way… You already spend every other day of the year looking out for me at work and off the clock. I’m sorry if it was a bit too much… but th-this is the least I could do to make up for all the ways you help me… I’d be lost without you.”

	Gazing into each other’s eyes, he answered with an impassioned kiss that stole her breath away. Embracing one another in the tangle of tongues and lips, Marzy relaxed and let out a moan into his mouth. The added comfort eased out a short but thunderous burst of flatulence that violated her expensive pants with an indelible cloud of every conceivable romantic dinner churned into an almost indescribable sulfuric nightmare.

	With a feeling of feverish lust, he recognized a gift he could give her that no amount of money could buy. Someone would need to be crazy or truly in love to encourage the upcoming digested disaster. Slipping his hands lecherously into her jacket, he rubbed circles into her overburdened cauldron of gas just beneath the silky undershirt. She moaned far louder this time at the practiced touch making sensual deviations to fondle her modest breasts. Those moans of pleasure quickly shifted into groans as all the motion jostled ample reserves of gas in one great surge.

	Leaning back into the chair the couple continued to grope one another through their clothes even as the second pent-up release of the night hissed forcefully but silently like a deflating tire through her quaking cheeks and straight into his crotch. The sensation of those two wobbling spheres of soft fat coupled with the warm gas set his mind on fire as she continued to raise the intensity of her raucous wind like an engine failing to start.

	Rising in power her stream of exhaust reached a frighteningly deep choppy pitch before the sound of splitting fabric reached their ears. With a soft gasp and an abrupt fizzling end to her foul detonation, she ignored the irreversibly tainted air to observe the rip in her pants her fat rump wasted no time spilling out of. Anxiously teetering at the thought of just how diabolically bad her gas was going to be tonight, she was oddly comforted by the newly risen rod poking her steaming hindquarters.

	“Hehe… ha… I really h-hope I don’t need to order a new suit already…” She squealed lightly feeling his hands drift to feel her exposed furry ass and silky panties.

	“I think I like you better without clothes on anyway.” This time he gave the exaggerated eyebrow motions as the short bear visibly swooned.

	The lovers would find plenty of ways to make this night fun that didn’t require the tub filled with champagne Marzy had prepared earlier or the deluxe doublewide bed. And despite the fact he held much less space in his moderate apartment, Vincent kept the whole mountain of cheesy Valentines toys to remember such a special, perfect, night. One that would stand tall in his memory, until the short bear attempted to out-do herself next year.






Cooking Up Some Love (Violet Vapors)

Beams of sunlight streamed through partially cracked blinds and into the mostly silent apartment. The only thing breaking the quiet was the almost rhythmic pattern of channels being flipped on the TV. Abruptly a news report about Team Galactic was switched to a show about gardening oran berries and then the fertilizer tips were interrupted by a commercial about “Why use a pokeball when you can use an ultra ball?” None of these things held the purple tinted cinderace’s attention for long.

	Lazily she splayed herself over the couch, remote held aloft to find something interesting. Her fur stood up in tufts at odd angles, like a full body case of bed head. The lagomorph would normally be following whatever Harry was doing, but instead he decided to let his late night cuddler sleep-in with a note about going shopping. She thought it was nice of him, but things got boring sitting around at home. Thinking about her missing shopkeeper and trainer, Violet drifted her sensitive nose to one of the couch cushions. It was faint, but she could smell a bit of his scent, the same one she could find in their bed.

	With a wry smirk, she sluggishly shifted to plant her bunny buns firmly into the spot. After a moment scrunching up her face, she coaxed out some delayed morning thunder that became heavily muffled by the seat absorbing the stale wind from yesterday’s dinner. In seconds she had once again stamped her own loving scent mark over that of her partner’s. The muted buzz didn’t last long, but the vile vapors that leaked from her buried cheeks carried enough of her hereditary skuntank musk to leave anyone else reeling. Yet as the awful stench of expired berries and her own unique blend drifted from under her upturned puff of a tail, she sighed contently knowing Harry could probably pick up on the lingering nose-burning smell hours later when he came back.

	Idly the thought of trying to bake his pillow in yet another batch of her unholy perfume came to mind, but she was already running on an empty tank. The thought of food stopped her from changing channels when a cheery tune announced the start of “Kalos ‘K’ooking!” With interested amethyst eyes she watched the host, a woman clad in an apron and comically large chef hat excitedly announce today was the Valentines episode. The music swelled with violins as she spoke directly into the camera. “Do you have someone special in your life you just couldn’t imagine life without?”

	As if personally asked, Violet nodded enthusiastically towards the television. The woman on screen continued unaware of her input. “Well I got a lot of great recipes for you to share with your loved ones on this romantic holiday!” Images of cute couples with all kinds of chocolates, parfaits, and heavily ornamented cupcakes whizzed by in a montage that further caught her interest. “There’s no better way to show your feelings than with something almost as sweet as they are!”

	Already risen off the couch and excitedly bouncing back and forth, the passion inside the fire type burned brightly at the thought of surprising Harry with something she had baked herself. Given that they ran a store for berries and herbs the pantry was always well stocked, so whipping something up sounded easy. “He’s always the one cooking for me…” she thought, “but it’s about time I learned to make something for him!” With ears perked high like fluffy radio dishes, she bounded into the kitchen and listened for ingredients as the host listed them. Confidently she flipped open cabinets, sure she could make the dish as the woman explained. How hard could it be?

. . .

	The first recipe was pink “Slurpuff Cookies” but the fluffy morsels looked more like charcoal. Having watched him use the oven a million times but only now realizing she didn’t fully know how to work it, the lovestruck lagomorph thought she could just put a bit of fire in the metal box herself. Worriedly stroking the fur on either side of her face, she told herself that she still had more chances to get things right. There was a marathon going on right now, and after a short commercial break there would be another sweet thing to make correctly this time. With a rumble from her empty stomach, her look of dismay and disappointment gradually gave way to her tongue slipping past her lips hungrily.

“Shame to waste ingredients, right?” She thought to herself, daring to sample her charred creation.

. . .

	It had been only a couple hours now, but the kitchen looked more like a warzone than a sugary bakery. Piles of pink pecha and magost berries meant for coloring were mashed into paste, flour decorated the walls like a pastry grenade had been thrown around, and pots of every shape and size sat in the sink licked clean of their abominable contents. Trying to focus on heating a ball of chocolate and dough in her sizzling paws, it was difficult to ignore the loud gurgling her bloated belly made from attempting to break down all the mistakes she had made.

	Stifling a small burp, she continued aggressively trying to make the malformed cupcake magically transform into the dessert she wanted. Experimentally she tasted the inexplicably runny yet overcooked mixture in her hands. Immediately she recoiled at the unappealing taste with her tongue stuck out in disgust. “How does Harry cook anything? How does that witch on TV make such delicious looking treats? Was she faking all this?” Her brow furrowed as the frustration mounted to an almost literal boiling point, the contents of her fiery mixing pot in her volatile midsection stirring angrily until the pressure burst from underneath her like a ruptured steam pipe.

	Unabashedly loud, the sweltering gas punched through her rear in an ass wobbling stream of poorly contained rage. The empty dishes rattled and her ears melted downward from the temporary bliss. Grabbing the counter for support she raised her roaring rear high into the air and forced out an unapologetically loud bubbly finish to the lengthy release of hot air. Trying to collect herself and attempt yet another dish, she was caught off guard by the descending cloud of unimaginable funk. The ghosts of every misused berry and measuring cup of chocolate chips were striking back with vengeance in such a putrid gale even the creator herself recoiled in a moment of disgust.

	Her horrified expression softened after a couple more sniffs, until a mischievous grin showcased her bucktoothed smile. All this odd food was turning her indigestion into an offensively noxious weapon of gaseous horror that could peel paint and melt nose hairs. A nearly silent hum of more flatulence eager for escape followed, but she cut it off with a clench of her cheeks almost immediately. No, she had to save this, let it really ferment and multiply in her deepest depths until she could erase any olfactory trace of anyone or anything else from her partner.

	With a look of determination she stuffed the failed cupcake in her mouth and chewed through the otherwise unappealing item eagerly. The scheming rabbit would continue to try and make something presentable, but she just had a nasty plot about a back-up plan if the cooking didn’t work. Stirring herself into a frenzy punching the air and jumping around the tiled floor she mentally boomed out, “I’ll give him a piping hot serving of love one way or another toni-“

	Her excited movements came to a standstill as the musical tune signaling another episode caught her attention. Quickly she set to work grabbing more ingredients, almost pleasured moans escaping her as she felt her jostled insides swelled and cramped from so much moving around.

. . .

	“I’M HOOOOOME!” Shouted Harry, arms loaded with various grocery bags after a day of shopping. He looked around, a little surprised she wasn’t rushing to greet him. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s making a dutch oven out of the bed again…” he thought, preparing to drag everything into the kitchen. Before he could get far however, a certain cinderace slinked out from behind the corner and seductively swung on the edge of the doorframe. With both ears hung low, she strutted out to showcase her almost pregnant looking belly filled to the brim with sugar and fresh produce now being churned and distilled into nothing but her own heinous perfume.

	A little awestruck, he watched dumbfounded as she twirled and presented something form behind her back. Held up to his face was a single plain sugar cookie, nearly burned at the edges and simply decorated with pink frosting to say “I <3 U”. He spoke with amazement as he reached out to grab it, “Did you make this for me? I can’t believe it…” Before he could accept her gift, she teasingly pulled it back. Unsure where this was going, he watched her cup the cookie in her hands, and delicately bring the concealed confection behind her ample purple buns.

	Shutting one eye in a suggestive wink, she prepared to add her own unmistakable seasoning to this cookie just for him. Wiggling her hips tauntingly, she finally played out the scene she had rehearsed in her head a hundred times over while straining to keep all that raucous smog inside her. A sinisterly low and droning fart oozed out of her with a concerningly bubbly tone, her bottom belch blanketing the small cookie in a humid gale of unforgiving aroma. She bit her lower lip feeling the bliss of getting this out of her system, but also restraining herself from outright exploding onto the corrupted confection.

	Keeping her digits firmly clasped around it, she once again presented the lovingly ruined sugar cookie with an intentional puff of what her intestines had been cooking all day. As small of a puff as it was, the concentrated cloud was dense with all of the worst aspects of her gas. His nostrils were punched with a mixture of fermented berries buried in a mountain of her worst skunky volcanic sulfur.

	Not only did the single whiff strike with such awful variants of her usual suspects, but they were strangely twisted with a hint of bitter sweetness and burnt sitrus berries. The poor cookie was smoldering with her latest fart, but the intense fire type heat had actually melted the frosting into an illegible mess.

	Steeling himself against the scent burning through his airways, he spoke up with an added effort not to cough or retch. “You really didn’t have to make me anything, I even got us a nice chocolate cake to share together tonight.” Fully aware he was trying to weasel out of this, Violet flopped her ears with a shake of her head “no”. She was completely intent on him eating that morsel terribly saturated in her aromatic love, the thought alone had her unspeakably excited and a flaring yearning blossoming between her legs.

	Harry braced himself, growing up with the rather unique scents her backside could produce wasn’t quite enough to prepare him for this. Unable to consider dragging this out, he stuffed down the cookie in one bite. The normally rather underwhelming flavor of baked sugar was replaced by a sharp and overpowering taste that could only be replicated huffing straight from under her fluffy tail. Such a prospect would have practically poisoned anyone less acclimated to her unbearable scent marking, but instead as the partner of his avid lover the regrettable tang sparked memories of their times together.

	Watching him swallow the unorthodoxly steamed sweet made Violet’s breathing become labored and shallow with unspeakable desire. He had willingly eaten a rather hefty dose of her terribly powerful brew, and the thought of marking him in such an internally intimate way was nearly too much to handle. Before her knees could go weak, she jumped into him so hard she might as well have tackled him into the couch. A rocket would also make an apt comparison, because her previously restrained rear exploded like she was lifting off, except even once firmly pushed into the couch she continued to let the exhaust fly and flutter noisily.

	The young man smiled despite the rather potent aftertaste and stroked a hand through the spike of lavender fur on the horny hare’s head. His hands drifted to knead the sensitive skin on her long ears and he was rewarded with an appreciative coo of delight. In turn she thrust her terribly bloated midsection into his hands and nibbled softly on his ears before coming in for a kiss. Once again he found his senses absolutely filled by the pokemon venting all her affection and indigestion in a feverish haze.

	Soft sweaty fur glided across his body as she dragged her explosive caboose up and down his body, an unforgettable aroma claiming every inch of his nose and skin in sweltering waves that followed a flick of her tail. The sounds of excited breathing and an unstoppably overflowing derriere drowned out the marathon of cooking shows as she watched his face to relish in every pleasant reaction.

	Fueled by a plethora of culinary mistakes and later happily spoon-fed an entire chocolate cake by her lover, Violet would be gifted with an almost ceaseless supply of fumes to fill the night with her own deafening orchestra of wind instruments. It was only much later that the flames of her passion were finally quenched by relentlessly milking everything her partner had to offer throughout the night.

. . .

	Now the couple sat cross legged on the couch, wrapped in a blanket cocoon with Violet’s head poking out beneath his, her ears on either side of his head as she sat on his naked lap. With a slight smirk and an exaggerated sigh, she lifted her thoroughly pounded cheeks to fire off yet another stomach turning series of small rippling farts chained one after the other. Both might have been drained of all their energy, but that didn’t mean she was anywhere near out of gas.

	Taking deep breaths of the unforgivably devastated air quality swirling around them like chokingly thick fog, he felt his similarly lust fried brain cool to a pleasant warmth. Inside their private Dutch oven he nuzzled into the fur on top of her head, and she joyfully returned the gesture.

“I love you so much…”

	Shifting around on his crotch in a way that almost unintentionally signaled the umpteenth round tonight, she gave his pelvis a break by shushing him with a deep kiss. They were a sticky, sweaty, tangled mess, but tonight they were everything each other needed.







Draconic Desires (Hide of Iron)

	Gradually Esme’s senses were pulled from the deep lull of slumber to the waking world. Drawn out of the realm of dreams, her large body covered in armor-like scales relaxed into her warm cozy surroundings. As she began to question what happened to her cave to make it so comfortable, she felt a pair of soft hands rub their way down the length of her snout. Breathing deeply she recognized the smell of fried batter, and something vaguely floral. Her yellow eyes slowly opened to recognize the waking dream her life had become, including a castle to live in, a large custom-made bed to sleep in, and her smiling husband to share it all with.

	Drowsily she quietly muttered, “Dear, what are you doing?” As he continued to rub along the sides of her head and gently rake his comparatively soft nails over her hardened reflective hide, he only answered her by moving up to stroke her horns. All his loving touches were rewarded with a blissful sigh. That sigh however morphed into a soft throaty grunt as she absentmindedly evacuated any foul air that had accumulated overnight. Although considered “small” by her standards, the airy flapping release muffled by the tail she was too comfortable to lift was more than enough to overwhelm any aromatic trace in the room of the breakfast Leo had cooked in a wave of sulfur and brimstone.

	Her gentle exhale of relief was interrupted by a quick apology. “Sorry… I shouldn’t do that when you surprised me with such a nice meal…” The knight took her downturned head and with some effort lifted her sullen gaze with both hands under her chin.

	“Nonsense!” He presented a bouquet of colorful flowers likely harvested from the spring fields in bloom around their home. “I assure you anything that comes out of you smells just as wonderfully as these.” Her draconic blood ran hot through her cheeks, still unable to handle such compliments. “I know you want to object to being doted on, but it’s a special human tradition today for lovers to be especially sweet.” He beamed happily, “And how am I to resist when you look so ravaging with such gleaming fangs and beautiful eyes?”

	She clutched the flowers delicately in her large claws to her flat reptilian bosom, leaning to whisper in his ear. “You’re simply incorrigible! You should have told me earlier, so I suppose I need to start expressing my love right away.” Esme leaned back slightly to plant a scaly kiss on his cheek, only to have it be the teaser for a much deeper kiss putting her lengthy tongue to rather elegant use through his lips. It was almost invasive how she snaked her long dexterous muscle down his mouth, but she refrained from anything too intense before breaking the kiss with a loud pop.

	“I’ll have to think of some way to repay you later tonight…” Her seductive glare softened as she spread her limbs wide to make room for the human. “But would you object to snuggling in bed this morning? I’m still a little tired…”

	He chivalrously unveiled a fork and knife before taking her offer. “Okay, but you must leave an arm free so I can share everything I made for you.” It would take ages to cut forkfuls off the roughly wheelbarrow worth of fried flour and place it in her maw, but that only made the experience more appealing for the dragon. With a simple nod, she swept up her husband like a dragon hoards rare treasure, opening her fearsome jaws just a crack to accept his breakfast in bed.

. . .

	A few hours later, and the couple were up and about their fairly lax business off from adventuring or seeking bounties. Leo was in the single tall tower of their small castle fixing a leaky roof revealed by recent snow melts. He was a knight not a carpenter, but the problem was relatively minor so with enough fresh wood he was sure he could figure something out. However for the dragon pacing the halls, it meant ample opportunity to plan her own little surprise for the special holiday. She stopped in place to grip her gurgling midsection. As evidenced by the nearly silent leaking toot reeking heavily of tainted sugary syrup that followed, apparently nothing in that heartfelt breakfast agreed with her guts.

	Despite the twinge of a small gas cramp, she fought back the release and chose to keep things bottled up. She may have once hidden her rather plentiful gas production from her lover when they were just friends, but she resumed the iron grip on her rear valve just to make sure tonight would be extra special. As much as it still astonished her, she was well versed in how he would eagerly huff every gust of methane her unbearable digestive system could produce. Just blushing at the thought, she focused herself back on the other things she wanted to do for tonight.

	First, she wanted to gather flowers much like he did. Humans loved flowers in a way she wished dragons did. Then again, she was an outcast among her kind so she couldn’t fact check that claim. Secondly she planned to eat something to add more fuel to the overclocked engine in her belly. Lastly she wanted to try and do something with the silk ribbons she had been practicing with, perhaps a nice bow to “dress up” for the occasion.

	The start of her plan went without any major dilemmas. She peacefully hummed along with the birds as the sun glittered off her metallically reflective scales. A basket hung from her mouth as she used her more dexterous front limbs to pluck yellow and lavender blossoms. Some she gripped just a little too hard, creating a miniature explosion of petals, but there was plenty more to harvest in their place. The only issue was when she would have to pause and let another fizzing gas cramp settle. As heavenly as it sounded to let loose early, she had just begun. Besides, any mental images of relief she conjured inevitably had the flowers wilting under such a rancid gale… something she had doubts was only possible in her imagination.

	Next was probably the most difficult task she had in mind to prepare. Intricately cooking food was out of the question for the large dragoness, but she made do filling a cauldron with recent harvests from the local villages. An immense cauldron filled with cabbage, an emptied barrel of legumes, and an entire wheel of aged cheese melted over the top temporarily made her stomach grumble with hunger in place of indigestion. She normally limited her veggie intake, they never agreed with her usual carnivorous diet often to the point of spectacular consequences. However, tonight she wanted to put that to good use.

	At first she devoured the contents of the cauldron eagerly, needing no time for it to cool given her natural indifference to heat. Yet as her stomach began to swell and round underneath her legs, she finished the last bits at the bottom sluggishly. She was well and truly full now, needing to make an extra effort to lift her legs higher not to drag her sloshing underbelly on the floor.

	With a grunt of effort she resisted another cramp surging south, narrowly avoiding leaving the kitchen looking like it had been ravaged by an unnatural steamy tornado. It felt like a nasty pressurized powder keg was being futilely contained by her full stomach as it gradually bloated to an even larger curve underneath her. But with deep breaths she reminded herself, “You can do this, just a little longer and I’ll stow away in the bedroom waiting for him…”

	As if to argue against her, an awful cacophony of intestinal displeasure sounded from beneath her. Untold gallons of draconic flatulence begged for release, incessantly rolling around her belly, but she held together with a silent whimper. Suddenly convinced to err on the side of caution, she hurriedly gathered some bottles of wine to throw in her flower basket. She held her tail firm over her tremendous backside like a flimsy lid over a boiling kettle, and made the short but arduous journey to grab her special ribbons and ready her surprise in their chambers.

. . .

	Thick beeswax candles lit by the whisps of flame from her mouth complimented the yellow, pink, and white petals Esme had strewn around the large circular bed built for a dragon and her mate. Esme often felt insecure about how well she understood etiquette of frankly any species, but she felt confident this was the height of human romance. Something she was less confident in however, was that the brewing swell of her underbelly rising like a lofty mound in the air as she laid on her back could be contained much longer without deflating like a balloon, or more accurately a blimp with her size.

	At the moment she had her wings spread at either side, flexing with little twinges of frustration fighting back gas cramps and with growing annoyance at her dilemma trying to tie a slightly clumsy bow around one of her horns. “I swear… Mmmmf, I will get this right!” The red ribbon she tried before felt too large, and she never liked the blue one much, but this pink one eventually slipped on just right as a delicate decoration on her rather fearsome face crested with jagged iron-looking scales. Her little cheer for the minor success was overshadowed by another upsettingly loud burbling from her stomach. Leo said he would be coming down from the tower soon, but how long would that be?

	Feeling the seconds tick by and seemingly jackhammer more pressure on her lower end, she attempted to focus on something else. She was supposed to look like a blushing bride, but right now she felt like a damsel in distress with the way her gut wobbled and stormed with gratuitous gas packing every inch from under her tail to her overfilled core, even some trying to escape up her long throat. Trying not to focus on her ongoing predicament, she was struck with an idea. Damsels in distress were supposed to be cute, and paired with knights, right?

	Eyeing the large red ribbon she had trouble working with earlier, she began to think about making her own restraints to complete the appearance. With a groan she shifted just enough to knab the length of silk, and began to wind it around her limbs. She hoped at the very least to maybe look like one big scaly present sitting on their bed, twisting the ribbon around and around. With only a bit of experimentation she almost had the self-restricting knot she wanted, the fabric stretched to it’s limits to even fake the appearance of true restraints. She only needed to pull her legs in tight towards her bulging belly before the ribbon snapped to finish the look.

	Slowly she inched her hind legs up like a haphazard yoga pose, but the stress it placed on her belly was sorely underestimated. Her new pose simultaneously contracted her drum tight belly and unwound some of the knotted kinks in her intestines. She grit her fangs in resistance, but all she could manage was a gasp as an insurmountable raid of rancid wind prepared to leave her whether she wanted it to or not. She clenched her wings in resistance, but the gaseous artillery strike was already smashing through her rapidly dissolving hold.

	Immediately the moment the hole under her tail yawned open the plume of fermented flatulence left her body with a deafening rumble like a marching invasion’s orchestra of war horns. Helpless flower petals were caught in the blisteringly hot backdraft, shriveling in seconds as if they were placed in a convection oven. The overwhelming aroma of earthy digested cabbage and dairy fumigated the bedroom like a sulfur-infused barn, the nose singing stench strong enough to discolor some of the airborne petals.

	After a few seconds the feverish pace of her accidental decompression only strengthened with no hope of her stopping this eruption early. The volume raised even louder as a bedsheet billowed like a sail before tumbling to the other side of the room. Caught in the tremendous feeling of strain to futilely fight against this record breaking cheekflapper, her conflicted moan was interrupted by a bulge moving up her throat and an almost equally earth shattering belch. Now exploding from both ends to channel the pressurized beast inside her, the a bottle of wine placed nearby shook and clinked until it fell from the end table and shattered on the ground. The uncountable gallons of gas violently emptying out of her were starting to make laying eggs sound preferable as the jittering flames on the candles began to glow brighter in the atmosphere of increasing methane.

	Her eyes began to roll up in pure pleasure of relief, but with a quick euphoric shudder of her legs she snapped the tightly bound red ribbon to pieces. Once the sour funk of her belch ended, she immediately resumed moaning with a tongue lolling out of her maw as the jetstream below continued to flutter for a full 13 second fart. The worst part may have been that it could have lasted longer, but with a strained groan she managed to halt the monumental detonation. It was too late however, because in less than a minute she had undone almost all her preparations for the night. Colorful flowers obliterated, the wine smashed on the stone floor, ribbon in shreds, and the bow on her horn looking tangled from the way her head rolled back and forth during the terrifying release.

	Mouth agape at the destruction she had just unleashed, the sound of the rest of her gas angrily hoping to come out soon masked Leo’s entrance to investigate the sound of cannon fire. “What’s going on in he-” He stopped abruptly, surveying the scene before him in the space now several degrees hotter from the added flatulence alone.

	With a look of shame Esme lamented, “I’m sorry… I tried to plan something special for you and well…” When she looked up however, the knight was clearly fixated on the rounded air mattress swirling in her bloated midsection. Her frown quickly flipped into a delighted grin. She still had one, more accurately many, gifts for him. With an impassioned blush, she knew just how to push his buttons tonight.

	Clearing her throat and taking on a more flirtatious tone she continued. “Oooooh I’m soooory, I accidentally let a ‘little’ of the gas I saved up ALL day for you slip and it RUINED this room…” Her words clearly enchanted him as he drew closer to the eye of the rancid storm circling around every inch of the room.

	“I think I can forgive you… Afterall I assured you it smells as sweet as flowers in here…” Pulling in for a kiss, she surprised him with a curl of her wing to catapult him on her underbelly for a more intimate hold. The problem was that his impact forced out the real fireworks for the night. “I love yoOOOOUUUUURRP” Once again bursting from both ends to further pollute the unimaginably destroyed atmosphere of the room, he simply relished in the chokingly thick aroma ruffling his hair.

	“I love you too, every bit of you.” To emphasize his words he flipped around to get a little more intimate with her other end. The night was long, but she would likely be venting her heavy dinner well into the morning. For him, nothing could be more perfect. He only needed to ask the gods for strength not to add even more children to the family tonight.






Shadows in the Night (An Unusual Love Triangle)

	The road to the elite four was an infamously difficult one, the thin rocky trails etched into mountains were surrounded by great cliffs overlooking nothing but sprawling fog containing countless silhouettes of scrubby pines. Dangerous pokemon were said to make their homes in the sprawling woods and many caves. The stories described them as prone to chasing off anyone but the best trainers, but Oliver in particular felt a little less worried. Why? Floating ominously overhead with an almost ethereal glide was a large hydreigon vigilantly watching the area as she drifted close behind.

	Each of her three heads watched a different angle, and they did so in their own peculiar ways that had inspired Oliver to name them separately. Annabelle, the largest and de facto leader watched sternly straight ahead. Mirabelle peered nervously to the expanse of woods down the cliff face, looking back and forth to make sure each shadow wasn’t actually a threat. Isabelle… given she was facing the boring rock wall besides them, instead enjoyed slumping down and making the occasional glance through dozing off.

	From the human’s perspective he couldn’t understand a word of their pokemon speech, but the three occasionally bickered among themselves as they trekked forward. Anna broke the silence with an authoritative tone, “Update me Mira, anything on your side?” She grew annoyed as the other head bobbed up and down trying to squint into the woods for her answer.

“I… uh… I don’t think so but I s-swear I saw a shape jump between the trunks a few minutes ago…” Mira turned back to see Anna’s fangs already bared.

	“Did or didn’t see something?” Her fearsome visage tilted down to spot Oliver and his eight clanking badges, her expression softening for only a moment before doubling in anger. “Are you so careless as to let something ambush us or snatch him away?” A bit of residual anger resurfacing after the last they almost “lost” him to another girl, Anna was already fuming.

	Mira’s timid behavior quickly became heated from the unnecessary chiding. “You think I don’t care about him? I’m j-just not sure if it was actually something to worry about! If you want to pick on someone go wake up Isa.”

	Rising to join her inward curled sisters slowly, Isa unhurriedly explained. “Nope, I haven’t seen anything tumbling down the mountain… so I’ll get back to conserving energy…”

	The other two quickly turned to face her with a similar look of disagreement. “Don’t look at the rocks! Look behind us instead!” Shouted Anna indignantly.

Following immediately after Mira added, “How could you not be worried? We have no idea what could be lurking around here!”

	Their squabble was abruptly halted however as a single sensation sent chills up their shared spine. A hand had softly stroked the end of their dangling tail, causing their undivided attention to focus solely on their somewhat competitively shared objection of affection. The trainer lightly holding her tail spoke deep in thought. “It’s getting dark already, are you girls okay with setting camp for the night soon?”

	He was answered by the draconic heads turning inward to whisper and snap and snarl for a mutual decision. Knowing this could result in nothing productive, he raised his voice sweetly to up the ante. “I can start making dinner as soon as we make camp…”

	There was a short pause as the dragon’s stomach whined unhappily. Immediately they nodded almost in unison, Isa lagging behind slightly. With a unanimous decision, he stroked two of her heads with each of his hands, and nuzzled his cheek against Anna. It was as equally nice as he could be, but with Anna receiving the most direct attention from his face she puffed up proudly. Even if she had to share, she was content to have his focus. Smiling a little lecherously, she also lingered on just how much their relationship had advanced recently. Memories of pinning him against the wall brought a blush to her face, but something quickly interrupted her reminiscing.

	At first the two sisters were content to feel his fingers rub along their heads, but Oliver and Anna were blindsided as Mira and Isa came from either side to swarm around his head in an almost aggressive display of nuzzling love. Oliver called out exasperated, “Come on, we can do this later when the tent is set up…” Well aware of his protests but willing to make a delay, the hydreigon sisters would continue to war over who got to feel up each inch of his face for a little while longer.

. . .

	About an hour later and a small fire burned in the remaining light of dusk, the dry tinder crackling and sending stray embers into the air. The young man stirring a pot above the flickering orange flames felt an overbearing soft underbelly pressed against his back as three blue maws watched his cooking eagerly. Although he enjoyed the feeling of his longtime companion so close, he watched the dubious brown broth a little worried. The labels on the cans in his backpack were sketchy to begin with, but any trace of an expiration date were either rubbed away or caught in enough rain to wipe the ink away during their travels.

	That didn’t stop Anna from squishing her large head down onto his and nearly rustling his cap off to better assess the unseemly brew. The abundant interest made him laugh. “Quit it! I can’t see with your head there.”

	Anna relented just enough to lift her head for him to see, her usual scowl melting just a bit as she conferenced over the pot. “Okay, now it’s only fair I get to eat the most of this tonight because I was keeping the most important watch.”

	Ultimately all food went to the same stomach, but who got the pleasure of actually tasting it was normally a matter of debate. Mira called back anxiously, “That’s not fair!”

	Both paused expecting Isa to voice her own protest, but after a moment of silence they noticed the third sister already dipping her head in the hot soup. Not a difficult task for a dragon capable of breathing fire, but as she lazily resurfaced each looked at her like she had betrayed a sacred vow.

	Without further argument, Anna dived down to get a mouthful of the stew. Simply put, the beef and onions were less than savory tasting after so much time fermenting on the road, but unwilling to let the transgression slide she shook off the disgust and stuffed her face full. Caught up in the show of gluttony Mira hesitantly took a mouthful for herself. Oliver watched the feeding frenzy for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief. “I wasn’t sure they’d even eat this stuff. I’ll stick to the granola bars…”

. . .

	Anna stubbornly licked the last drops of broth from the bottom of the pot, lifting her head out to shake off any salty residue while Mira watched the woods sluggishly and Isa muffled a small burp.  Mutual regret for eating so much of the expired mixture was setting in, but the leader of the pack would never admit that. Instead she licked her lips, and felt their heavy belly make efforts to glide back from the fire difficult. Faint light from inside the tent silhouetted Oliver organizing the contents of his backpack.

	Content to lie in place for a moment with a groan, it wasn’t long before Mira’s head shot up into the air. “It’s that shadow again! The shape I saw earlier, I saw it again…” The other two looked at her incredulously, but after a moment of waiting a soft echoey cry carried over the fog.

“Someone, pleeeaaaase, help me!”

	The hydreigon looked around for the source, but it appeared their trainer hadn’t heard. Rising into the air again with great effort, Anna took control. “How about we check this out without bothering him?” Mira nervously shook her head, but the larger head pushed her neck in the direction of the noise. “We beat eight gym leaders, if something is causing trouble we can beat whatever that is!” With a challenge to surmount, the three found themselves cooperating, ready for battle.

	A short distance into the mist and their surroundings grew difficult to recognize. Working together Isa somewhat crudely dragged a stick to leave a trail in the dirt, while Mira and Anna kept lookout. The oddly melodic calls for help grew steadily louder and louder, until the three found themselves in a clearing.

	A beautiful woman with long black hair in a long flowing dark dress laid pinned underneath a fallen log by one of her legs. “Help me please! Are you a trainer’s pokemon?”

Anna simply glared her dark eyes while Mira argued. “Shouldn’t we help her?”

As if to air exactly what Anna was thinking, Isa glumly stated, “And what if she goes straight for Oliver like that last woman?”

	Anna had to take a couple deep breaths before reaching her opinion. “…okay. It’s okay. We already have a relationship with him, I know he wouldn’t betray that.”

	Rounding her lackies like soldiers, Anna led the group by sinking her fangs into the offending tree trunk. With a grunt and a pull, the group heaved the heavy log backward. The fallen tree moved inch by inch, but without warning all the effort stirred their heavily stuffed insides to the point of boiling over. Loud and with a sinisterly juicy choppy tone like a psyduck mating call, the three paused to buffet the ground with a horrendous wind from under their tail that stirred up fallen pine needles. Almost like steam from the shower, the fog served to let the heavy stench of their beefy fumes surround the group effortlessly in no time at all.

	Pausing to sigh in relief in unison, the pinned woman did the opposite coughing and gagging. Almost without thinking Anna shouted through clenched jaws, “Oh come on, suck it up while we’re helping you!”

	In response the woman hacked like she was exposed to tear gas. “Holy shit! That’s awful even for a dark type… ACK! How the hell do you expect me to suck it up?!”

Three pairs of eyes locked on hers for a tense moment before Mira cautiously squeaked out, “Did… did you understand us?”

	Waiting for an answer, the woman stretched her collar and began to sweat nervously. “Well… uh… you see…” In a puff of dark smoke, the human woman revealed her true form as a darkly furred zoroark wearing a very real black dress. The pokemon capable of elaborate disguises anxiously slipped her never really stuck leg from under the tree and began tiptoeing away. “Haha, well it’s been fun…”

	Without even needing to voice their plan, Isa snatched one of the fox’s arms and Mira grabbed the other, preventing any hope of escape. Anna in all her fury glared down at the woodland trickster, already thinking of some kind of punishment for intruding on their rest like this. For now she settled on an interrogation. “What was a little twerp like you hoping to accomplish with this little act?”

	The zoroark desperately tried to pull away, but she couldn’t hope to match the strength of the same trio that beat so many trainers. “I was just gonna swipe some of your trainer’s food, that’s it!”

	Anna was ready to bellow out her response, but all that surged up her throat was a lump of hot air rising from their overfilled stomach. A roaring belch of pure sour onions blew the red fur on her head like a windstorm and left the fox disoriented in the caustic cloud. With a slight blush Anna tried to recover any intimidation, but Isa was the first to speak up quietly through the fox arm clenched in her mouth. “Hey, what if we take her dress?”

	Anna looked at her sister dumbfounded for a moment, before her eyes lit up picturing exactly what they could do. “First, you’re going to give us that dress. Then we’ll think of what to do with you…”

	At first the zoroark resisted, “My dress? What would you even do with it?” After taking in the three angry stares burning into her fur, she pulled her arms in, and dove out from under the hem of the dress leaving them clutching the empty sleeves. “FINE! I’m getting FAR away from you, you crazy gas bag!”

	The trio stood their ground and simply watched her flee in terror before turning to one another excitedly. “This is going to be great!”

. . .

	Back at camp, Oliver realized things were oddly silent from the normal white noise provided by the argumentative dragon circling the tent. Unzipping the flap to look outside, he called out, “Annabelle? Mirabelle? Isabelle?” Concerned his usual three headed shadow was gone, he nearly jumped out of his skin spotting a great dark bulk descend from the tree branches. The unusual shape was frighteningly long and flowing like a specter coming down to haunt camp. Unsure whether to scream or try to run and find his companion, his fright turned to disbelief as the pokemon came into view more clearly.

	It was his hydreigon, but the three wore an enchanting ebony silk dress, two heads poking from the sleeves with Anna stretching the neck hole. Their wings poked through the back and held the outfit in place. Anna especially relished the way he looked with dumbfounded awe at their appearance, only able to mutter. “How… where did you find a dress like that?” Their response came with a group effort shake of their hips, like a great black and blue pendulum of their fully belly with a fluttering dress swaying back and forth. “You girls may fight sometimes, but you really do love me to come together like this…”

	Anna leaned in as if she could answer him in a way he could understand, but instead struck out like cobra only to seal his mouth in an aggressive kiss. With her dark tongue swirling around his mouth and silencing any questions he might have, Isa and Mira came in from each side to kiss his cheeks. Catching all four of them by surprise, another unrelenting surge of gas barreled down Anna’s throat, causing Oliver’s cheeks to swell with the terrible salty onion concoction now barreling the other way into his body.

	He choked down the miserable cloud she shared with him with an obvious blush, leaving Anna somewhat smugly staring down at him after pulling back to see him gasp excitedly. Mira didn’t waste a moment to pull in for her time to shine, “We agreed you got to go first, but now it’s my turn!” Not wanting to be outdone already, she figured if Anna accidentally smothered his senses like that, what if she actually tried to force it?

	With a focused look, she contracted their heavy belly and locked lips with the young man. The immediate reaction blasted another unimaginably unladylike belch down his gullet like an explosion of bitter burps forced down a hose. Even muffled by the seamless connection, the guttural expulsion was disgustingly loud and made their throats vibrate in unison. Channeling all the indigestion into his mouth, Oliver got a pretty good idea just how bad that stew tasted by sampling the aftermath so strongly flowing into him, the surge of hot air started to leak out his nose as he ran out of space to store it all.

	Once she finally released him to cough up the miasma their belly plentifully provided him, he woozily stroked down to their tail. “Are you sure you don’t want to take this a little slower tonight? Maybe cuddl-” He stopped as he felt a certain forgotten head had already slipped past his belt into his jeans. The third unimaginable belch of the night assaulted the silence as Isa pelted his crotch with a crude wave of gas billowing through his underwear.

	Quickly falling into a daze by the smothering amount of oxygen replacing love in the air, Anna made the decision to squish their bloated frame inside the tent with him, hardly fitting as Mira zipped the tent flap behind them. Oliver wasn’t entirely out of it yet, because even breathing through the heavy secondary aftertaste planted in his mouth, he grabbed at the back of her dress to pull them in tighter for a squeeze. “Ooooh, come here!”

	In all his lightheadedness he miscalculated however, as one of his hands ended up tugging their tail like bringing an overinflated balloon back to earth. The immediate uproarious gurgling of their garbage disposal of a stomach made it clear he had accidentally pulled the pin on their gaseous grenade. In the short amount of time he had left before detonation, he pulled in each head for a little kiss and “I love you” before each of them wrapped around his chest and held on tight for the finale. Even their combined efforts to halt the surge of gas for this loving embrace couldn’t hold out long.

	“Ooooh, hold on tight!” Warned Anna as a symphony of groaning and grunting and growling heralded the team effort fart belching out of their rear with an unparalleled dress flapping fury. Their new dark dress rippled and puffed out in the storm of steamy sulfur and onions. The tent puffed out like a balloon unable to vent her gas as fast as it was being pumped into it, and the couple embraced surprisingly romantically through the storm. The cacophony was downright offensive to anything lurking in the dark, to the point it worked better than any wild pokemon repel could have.

	Through the endless series of crude sounds that the now lovingly cooperating sisters fumigated the tiny tent with, little amorous giggles and sweet whispers from the man could be faintly heard. After traveling so long none of them knew tonight was Valentine’s day, but even without that knowledge they celebrated long into the night like longtime lovers. Next morning the tent would still be slowly leaking pent-up fumes, but the hydreigon would make sure to pin their trainer for a long morning of snuggling before the next leg of their journey, leaving them with rather unusually relaxed faces for the remainder of the day while stubbornly refusing to take off their new pilfered dress.






Earth-Themed Date Night (Excorp Exhaust Incident)

It was yet another day on the extraordinarily long flight back to Earth from their deep space asteroid mining station. The junker made for carrying back huge loads of cargo carrying endless stickers over rusted metal repeating the same slogan, “Excorp: We Really Dig Space!” wasn’t the best place to be trapped on for the better part of a year, but it was the price to pay getting flown back to the blue marble after leaving your job on questionable terms. Much of the ship wasn’t built for human habitation, the vast stores of junk being carried around simply placed in oxygenless cargo holds. Alexander had to settle for only a few small chambers kept warm and aerated. It would almost be maddening if the former supervisor didn’t have someone special taking the trip with him.

	Speaking of the carry-on herself, the pink metal rabbit’s screen for a face displayed an unchanging dozing expression like a screensaver as she ignored the outside world and reviewed a veritable slideshow of memories. A simple folder at a programmer’s glance was filled to the brim with video, audio, photos, and recordings of her time with Alexander. Some was with the other robots and him back at the mining station, but a generous amount had been added with him during this long voyage. A picture of her synthetic hand holding his, a recording of him kissing her flat digital face, even a couple audio recordings of him snoring in bed. The last one she might not admit to taking of him while she whittled away the time the organic man needed to sleep, but the sound often calmed her circuitry.

	Yet, the more she looked it over, the more she felt a twinge of guilt. They were all so samey looking since they got on this ship, even if this was adventurous for her leaving the station, it was apparent all this isolation was taking its toll on Andrew. She knew a few ways to cheer him up like hugs, conversation, and the rather permanent impact of BE-2 overclocking her exhaust output (a simple fix neither of them preferred to touch), but was it enough? As the Earth-aligned internal clock struck past midnight, she got an internal notification Valentines Day was here, and a pop-up reminder about permanent 24/7 work hours being unchanged leftover from her old position.

	In a flash she “woke” from her nostalgia-driven daze and her screen flashed into a face of inspiration. With both pink ears raised high she realized she had a special day and an extra special excuse to try something. He missed Earth, right? That was where they were headed together, so perhaps she could use that as inspiration. Moving swiftly around the cargo hold as cold as the void of space, she left a visible steaming trail of exhaust with a soft buzzing sigh. Ignoring the outburst agitated by her sudden movement, she set to work reading files about Earth at inhuman speeds while examining what she had to work with.

. . .

	Andrew woke up slowly, groggily. Time was near impossible to track on this ship, it lacked even the simulated cycle of dimming lights the mining station had. Stretching in his Excorp emblazoned pajamas, he readied to walk around one of the only other rooms available to him before a short electronic lagomorph burst out to stop him with waving arms. “Wait a second, I thought I would have everything ready before you woke up and I need a FEW more minutes!”

	He didn’t resist as she pushed him back into bed with an apologetic expression on display and frantically twitching ears. He did however crack a smile seeing her in such an eager state. “What is it? What’s going on today? Or tonight? Or whatever you want to call it…”

	She hushed him softly, a bucktoothed grin on her monitor. “I really only need a few minutes, but I can probably finish before you get all dressed up.”

	“Dressed up?” He thought of the business suit he packed for the day they arrived back on sturdy land without artificial gravity. “Is this for something special?”

	Her screen flickered to a custom sprite she designed herself beaming to the fullest. That kind of happiness didn’t come in the default set. “It’s for Valentines Day! I wanted to do something romantic, and you’re going to LOVE it!”

	He bent down to plant a kiss on one of her raised ears, causing her to shake with delight. “Oooh, save that for our romantic trip together. Today we go to ITALY!”

“Italy?” Andrew flashed a grin of excited disbelief.

	“You better believe it, I read all about it today and I was so fascinated by all that ancient human history. I set something up. Now get dressed and I’ll give you a tour!”

. . .

	After watching her rush out to finish her preparations, he unpacked his suit with an air of excitement. Just what had that little robot gotten up to? Once he was fully dressed and ready to go, she emerged from behind a hastily hung curtain over the otherwise industrial looking doorway. With a folded elbow extended, he played along and wrapped an arm around his lady’s invitation. Little red hearts replaced her eyes as she excitedly dragged him through the curtain. “Take a look!”

	The previously unremarkable room of dull paneling had been hastily redecorated, blue tarps hanging on the walls with splats of white paint for clouds. The scenery featured beautiful vistas of cliff-built towns and views of the ocean… printed out on standard sheets of paper and taped to the walls. The number and space between these papers made the walls look more like an impromptu art gallery than the real thing. Along the floor identical panels of metal were laid along the ground to make an incomprehensible sidewalk twisting and turning around various features like a spare thruster meant to look like a fountain or a pile of junk vaguely suggestive of the Italian Alps.

	Taking in the fluorescent lighting and painstakingly assembled scrapyard of extra parts, he spoke up loudly. “Wow, is there a wormhole to Italy in here?” Being pulled along by his diminutive guide she snickered happily.

	“They say all roads lead to Rome, right?” For the next hour or so, Tiff eagerly gestured to each robot assembled part of the tour. The GPS coordinates of each photo wasn’t of much interest to him, but watching her go on and on about the planet she knew so little about was fascinating. In the background an audio device so old it required disks played various hundred year old pop songs, not really Italian but “Earth-like” in nature. After climbing the “mountain” in a couple steps, letting Tiff take a snapshot of him at every corner, and deciding to hold his tongue looking at the wire mesh Eiffel Tower somewhere in there, they stopped at a lopsided pipe painted in the same white as the clouds.

	“And this, THIS is the leaning tower! I couldn’t understand why people like something built incorrectly, but I hope you like it!” Flashing from a face of confusion to one of adoration as she explained it, Andrew couldn’t help but watch in delight. Swooping her off the ground with a little effort from her deceptively heavy chassis, he squeezed her close.

	“Well, I wouldn’t say everything about you is following design specifications, but that only makes me love you more…” Tiff could only blush brightly enough to paint his nearby face in red light before displaying a puckered mouth for a symbolic static-filled kiss. He held her tight for a hug, but the added pressure involuntarily ejected a stream of bioreactor exhaust. Her puffy synthetic cotton tail twitched slightly as the tainted air reeking of turpentine and steamed cabbage blew over the precariously positioned tower of Pisa, packing just enough force to make it sway in the raunchy wind before falling over with a dull thud.

	Sheepishly she covered her face with her ears before loosening an arm to fan her undesirable vapor trail. “Ah, I hope the real one isn’t that delicate…” He set her down to rebuild the tornado-struck tower, but she protested when he raised it back up. “It’s got to lean though, right?”

	He shrugged. “I guess so, but I’d rather spend time with you than gettin the scenery right…” The LED blush returned on her face before a small electronic chime sounded off like a Nokia phone imitating
Funiculì, Funiculà.

	Excitedly she took his hand and pulled him off to the next attraction. “Oh, it’s time for our lunch date in a little café across the street!” Not sure where this was going, he followed her into the broom closet to the right veiled by one of the fake sky tarps.

. . .

	Inside a small table was covered by a radar dish on a pole serving as an umbrella. There was hardly enough room for their stools to sit on them, but he sat eagerly next to the robot having trouble raising more than her ears over the table. The lighting was surprisingly tastefully dimmed by the worn holes in the dish above, showcasing her pre-prepared lunch. With a stumble narrowly caught at the last moment, she hefted a tank of biofuel next to the “Human Approved!” tube of nutrient paste she had shaped into a monochrome orange pizza.

	Biting down on the somewhat gooey pizza meant to replicate something like artificial cheddar cheese, he watched her pull out a small vial. The previously struggling face she displayed climbing into her seat was now replaced with one featuring animated suggestive raises of her eyebrows. He had to squint his eyes to recognize what was on the vial. A simple sticker with “B-E2 Supplement.”

	Both surprised and a little concerned, he spoke up through the mouthful of fake cheese filled with vitamins. “You shure you schud do thafft?” She only shifted an eye to a simple 2-frame wink before dumping the contents inside.

	“What’s the worst that could happen, it’s only a little bit! I was saving it for a special day too…” She clinked her jar of fuel against his metal can of water condensation. “When in Rome? Right? Am I even using that right?”

He simply shrugged and enjoyed the peculiar miniature “café” with her.

. . .

	After a brief pause to prepare a scene change behind the curtain like an elaborate play, he could hear her drag in a couple heavy items with small squealing poots like a struggling deflating balloon as her mechanical insides reacted violently with her lunch. It seemed Italy was now subject to rather intense air pollution as he was pulled into a noticeably warmer room, ripe with escaping farts she couldn’t hold back.

	“You know, spring in Italy smells a lot more like a certain robot I know than flowers and sea breeze.” He playfully rubbed the back of her monitor as she relaxed into his hand, taking a second before pulling back to gesture grandly to their next destination.

	“Sorry about the aroma, hehe, but I’ve got it on record you don’t mind the smell…” It was his turn to smile sheepishly as she got back to her presentation. “This is a lovely boat ride through the canals!” The blue tarps of the sky had fallen to create a body of water on the floor, a large hull likely meant to plate the outside of a mining station sat on the tarps like a scrap metal canoe. She pointed her ears upward and switched her face to an image of an arrow pointing above, showcasing an array of small lights flickering on rather than the usual fluorescents. “Look above to see the stars! They aren’t accurate to the real view from Earth, but I hope you don’t mind.”

	As the corny Italian opera came on over the ancient CD-player, he politely waved to the fake boat. “Ladies first, my love!”

	Tiff took her seat eagerly, waiting for Andrew to awkwardly squeeze in before grabbing a rod like an oar. With a terrible approximation of an accent she got from about two total audio recordings on record, she continued. “Ah, nozing’ah quite so luhvely as theese?” Her partner only laughed, but she used the opportunity to lean back against him, her rear exhaust port not so coincidentally in his lap.

	“Oh no! I think we’re about to hit some turbulence!” Now finally in the proper place, she relaxed any protocols struggling to contain the massive pressure building inside of her from breaking down the volatile fuel. Her silicon rump let loose a fluttering airy breeze of hot polluted air. The wave of sweltering heat poured easily through the crotch of his suit, making him bite his lip from the pleasant vibrations and rather unagreeable scent of chemically washed vegetables reaching his nose.

	He reached out to squeeze her midsection, bringing the end of her outburst to a bubbling finish that sputtered loudly even muffled by his lap. With a relaxed sigh and a flashing image of relief on her monitor, Andrew took an exaggerated whiff before coughing out a cheeky reply. “Whew! Did you also find a way to bring some old Italian cheeses here?”

	Tiff only turned towards him with a smile before grabbing her “oar”. With a rush she pointed the metal rod towards a wall, to a couple of printed out stock dolphin images. “Watch out! Wild dolphins are on the prowl!” She swiftly swung the rod to point at another print-out. “And there! A plesiosaurus! Hold me close while these dangers pass us!”

	Andrew held the robot ham-fistedly overacting her cowering in his arms, but found himself tearing up from howling with laughter. “Tiff! Those things are extinct! This doesn’t even make sense!”

	She delicately reached out to wipe a tear from his eye before literally flashing the image of a lightbulb on her face. “Extinct? Oh I’ll show you something that stinks!” She held him tightly, using his torso for leverage to really grind her rear between his legs before unleashing the bulk of her pressurized gas in a monstrous release followed by another just as bad. It was like a blast furnace of raw warmth and gasoline-soaked produce assaulted the room, her chassis shaking with an audible rattle as her systems became overtaxed trying to release an extremely non-standard gust of exhaust.

	His suit was poured over with a rank odor that would take some serious industrial detergents to remove and the “sea” was whipped into a frenzy as she leaned over to ripple the flimsy tarps with the second outburst from her smokestack ass. A stray pop-up about moving to a space with better ventilation was quickly disregarded as her face flickered to an image of blissful release, tongue sticking out of a bucktoothed smile. Absolutely immersed in the chainsaw fart revving out of her and irreversibly corrupting the air, he was made oddly reminiscent of the night they first confessed their love for one another.

	After a distressingly long time venting gas like she was mass-producing it for Excorp, Tiff fell exhausted in his lap, slightly propped up by the obvious tent he was now pitching. Held aloft by his loving hug and her ears flatted on either side of their fumigated dingy, she listened to his laughing turned coughing as he breathed through her thick funk. With a little smirk and half lidded eyes, she grabbed her trusty oar again and flicked the offending images of attacking sea creatures off the walls.

	“See? I scared them away. Aren’t you proud of me?” With mounting arousal only challenged by the most joy he had experienced in a couple months, he caressed her body in long gliding strokes of his fingers.

	“Yeah, I’m proud of my hero. You saved me, not just now but back at the station, even on this long boring ride. I feel like I would have lost it working so long and now waiting forever just to get back on Earth.” She listened carefully, recording each and every word. “This little vacation has been lovely, but I think anywhere I go with you is worth it.”

	She sunk deeper into his arms and lifted her screen towards his face. “I love you, I’m glad you took me off that station.”

He grinned, “I could thank you for the exact same thing. I love you too.”

	The opera soared as the lovers proceeded to make the most of their voyage within a voyage, only to have the music drowned out by the next surge of uninhibited emissions rumbling out of her reactor. Oddly enough the genuine stars outside the porthole now heavily fogged with steam paled in comparison to all the lovingly displayed fake ones wired over the ceiling. The rest of the night would involve a lot more boat rocking, the majority of it forcing out more tarp waving gales from the portable fog machine on his lap. A perfect night to add to her folder of memories, and his own organic equivalent.







Sneaking Some Chocolates (Vortigaunt Studies)

	Throughout the derelict city little stirred this time of year, the antlions seemed content to while away the season underground and the zombies mostly remained indoors where they didn’t freeze, but the ongoing rebellion against the combine never ended. The human and vortigaunt resistance housed in this particular neglected office building was far from the center stage, just occasionally contributing to a bit of research cracking an untranslated code or attempting to find a use for otherwise completely incomprehensible technology.

	The air was brisk up high on the roof of this remote outpost overlooking the area, but a couple found themselves enjoying their lunch break together anyway. Jack Miller was a younger man who knew little more than the Earth after the seven hour war, and sitting opposite on the makeshift table was Dr. Lucetta, a vortigaunt scientist who had found a most unexpected relationship during her research here. The exact nature of that relationship was obvious to those stationed with them these days, but for the sake of privacy they spoke little of it publicly. Hidden from view a constant reminder in the form of a ring strung through a necklace hung under the alien’s labcoat, where she could absentmindedly clutch it in her third hand during long hours of experiments without him.

	Now in the winter Jack wore a red scarf gifted by the one beside him, and she wore a fuzzy hat he found insisting she needed to wear more to keep warm. With heated breath visible in the air, the human continued his faltering explanations. “…the thing about Valentines day is it’s where two people in love give each other stuff and get all romantic.”

	Lucetta hummed, enjoying how easily worked up he was getting about the details of this. “And does the Miller know how this started or when?” Sure she could hit the books and find this out for herself with relative ease, but she wanted to tease him a little longer.

	“…no, but that’s not important! It’s not like people bother celebrating it much these days, I’m just saying we could do a little something for the night…” Before she could ask more about the exact cultural ramifications of the holiday on human society, he revealed the gift he had been waiting until later to give her. A large red box reading “HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!”

	She grasped it eagerly, examining it with a scientific eye… and three others around her largest red orb. “What is this? A symbolic gesture?” It was his turn to tease her for her ignorance.

	“It looks like a heart, and before you say it, it’s not anatomically correct. The real gift is that inside the box is some genuine chocolate. Untouched for ages, and they say this stuff can last a damn long time.” He watched with elated surprise as her eyes widened and she clutched the box twice as hard.

	Her mind reeled at the word “chocolate”. She had become a bit of a connoisseur for human food, and with Jack’s help she had sampled much of what could be scavenged, cooked, or replicated… but real chocolate? Only had she tasted this in cheap pale imitations, yet many cookbooks and indexes of cuisine on this planet mentioned it frequently. Forming a peculiar grin on her unique mouth she whispered seductively. “Perhaps the Miller would be interested in joining this one for an experiment. One in which this luxurious treat has been converted into something… gaseous?”

	Hoping she would say something like that, he leaned in excitedly with a bit of pomp and feigned scientific smugness. “I would be grateful for the chance to advance interspecies science like that…” With a grin he pointed to a crate pushed into a hidden nook on the roof. “That box is just one part of an old shipment, there’s a loooooot more where that came from. Just don’t tell anyone or else they’ll want us to share it.”

	He planted a kiss on her neck that made her otherwise monotone voice rise into a pleasured rasp. “Mmmmmm, thank you. This will be more than enough samples to do a whole series of ‘experiments’…I simply hope the Miller can handle the results…”

Without hesitation he nodded like his life depended on it.

. . .

	Later that night, the couple reconvened at the private spot Lucetta previously used to aired out the horrific emissions from human food in private. Now she very much polluted the air in the same way, but the secluded office in the building had shifted to serve the same purpose but with another who relished in the experience. A host of mismatched pillows and cushions decorated the ground and other soft features like rugs and carpeting had been dragged inside to complete their hidden love nest. Fraternization of this level was not an encouraged part of a planet-wide rebellion, so everything was planted in such a way as to be quickly kicked away and hidden in drawers or boxes.

	Specially tonight, the desk pushed to the side was carrying a single large candle and an impressive tower of emptied chocolate boxes. Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, ones with truffles and nougat, and other sweet fillings, they were all emptied and dutifully described in detail by the vort chewing through one at time without ever slowing in pace. Continuing this trend Jack delicately placed another morsel in her mouth, his fingers spending a little extra time to caress her inhuman features lovingly before grabbing the next piece.

	She shuddered in appreciation, swallowing before giving her analysis. “High sugar content, cocoa remains without comparison to the human foods previously tested.” With a soft groan she held the rapidly expanding mass of digesting sweets in her belly, the entirely foreign material being processed into unspeakable byproducts both anticipated eagerly. “Once again, high praise for the one who managed to extract such wonderous food.”

	He remained too enraptured at the sight of her delectably curved hips pressed into the cushions and the noticeable swell of her breasts to respond immediately. “Yeah… Yeah! It was no problem, glad to be of service tonight.” Playfully he rubbed along the length of her rounded figure much to her delight, but he was confused as she grabbed another piece of chocolate and brought it over the flame of the candle.

	Holding the candy there for a good length of time, it gradually became slightly melted and dripped over the candle. “Now that the desired viscosity has been reached, a special test can be conducted. It would be a shame not to have the Miller taste the fruit of his labor…” Except instead of handing over the block of chocolate, she parted her labcoat with one arm, and carefully traced sweet trails onto her bloated midsection with another. Her seemingly unwieldy appendages had been honed to write neatly, so in impeccable cursive she traced “I love you” inside a large (and scientifically accurate) heart.

	Unable to resist such a show, he set to work flicking his tongue over the sweet now somewhat salty message of affection. She shivered with each stroke of his tongue gliding up and down to render her ephemeral art illegible, and leave her flesh warmly moistened and incredibly sensitive to every little movement of air past her skin. Intent to clean every drop of the chocolate off her, he leaned into her on the blanketed floor, hands held into hers as he lapped at her belly. He shuddered with excitement, because with each time he planted his lips down for a quick kiss he could feel the little tremors and gurgles signaling that once again, the confections of his home hardly agreed with her insides.

	Nearing the end of his loving task, he felt her third arm run through his hair and complete an otherwise humanly impossible three pronged hold. Looking up at her adoring eyes he whispered his desires feverishly. “You know… I wouldn’t mind a little bit of perfume for tonight, and I know you could douse this whole room in a romantic haze after a meal like that.” She paused, visible strain on her face before… nothing.

	With an unladylike grunt and an exhale of disappointment she explained, “Apologies… the experiment appears to be stubbornly locked in containment.” Wrapping him close for a hug, she used the leverage to whisper in his ear. “This one has a possible solution perhaps, follow these instructions precisely.”

	Filled with more excitement than she could easily phrase in English and an uncomfortable amount of churning unearthly gas spurred on by the copious exotic sweets, she relayed the details of their new position almost scientifically. She flipped around to put more weight on her drum tight stomach, and fully disrobed to allow Jack to come up behind her. There he would firmly plant his face in between her luscious weighty cheeks, and raise his arms to wrap around her belly. Once his nose was driven firmly into her crack, she grew more and more passionate feeling him suck the stale air to savor her natural scent.

	With her legs wrapped around his back as if he would ever think of escaping this hold, she took a deep enamored breath before continuing. “Hold tightly and I will contract my body… the ‘show’ should begin shortly.”

	His hands were shaking with anticipation as he kneaded deeply into her trapped pocket of unruly alien flatulence. With continuous movements he worked her bulging mass of gas lower and lower, Lucetta straining out a grunt but nothing else from her hindquarters. Sensing her distress, he double down on the pressure on her stomach, resulting in a conflicted moan as she felt her the brewing disaster inside double in bubbling ferocity. Through the agonizingly slow progress, Jack succeeded in the occasional squirming reaction from the normally stoic vortigaunt, small unexpectedly girlish giggles between grunts to get things moving.

	Things would continue like this for a while longer before the first faint signs of progress silently hissed out for a couple seconds. As undetectable as it might have been audibly, Jack almost directly inhaled the sputter of steam, no longer even remotely resembling candy after twisting through her inhuman system. The tainted puff closest resembling roadkill headcrab with a thin chocolate shell was worse than what she usually produced, but he remained committed to the nose melting geyser waiting to fully erupt.

	Unable to wait any longer, he wrapped his arms tight and squeezed her guttural balloon tight in one big clench. With any professionalism evaporated, she clutched two fistfuls of pillow fabric and lewdly moaned as she pushed out the most unspeakably gargantuan fart to violently vibrate through her cheeks in recent history. Gallons of unseemly gas cascaded into his nose, mouth, much of his internal airways, and loudly clapped through her resonating booty as it forced it’s way past his stuffed-in head. There was little he could do to muffle the purring release dropping to a deeper foghorn as she finally released her pent-up indigestion.

	Despite the flatulent fury, Jack breathed everything her backside had to offer like his life depended on it, doing his best in the futile effort to spare the room and suck up every molecule he could. Despite how much the first monumental blast felt like an eternity for him, one burst of flatulence wouldn’t be enough. Again and again she strained out a new blow of reeking hot air to thank him for all the chocolate, giving him no time to comment on the smell and instead keep him constantly devoted to siphoning more of the horrific brew.

	Perhaps it was for the best he didn’t get time to comment, because the noxious atmosphere she was belching out her rear was almost incomprehensible to identify beyond being overwhelmingly powerful. As a little bonus she pulled back both arms to spread her trembling exit and ease his exhaust muffling nose in further. A lot of olfactory tragedies had funneled out of her into this room before, but this one wouldn’t fade for a long, long time. Soon as things began to escalate, his clothes started flying in all directions as alternative ways to help her vent all this chocolate fueled gas came to mind.

. . .


	Even an hour later as the couple had shifted to a more comfortable snuggling position, she would occasionally spread her legs and ease out the latest raucous cheekflapper. The ongoing decompression session pushed out her endless aftershocks of gas that refused to drop in nose searing intensity with time. With his nose noticeably reddened and two spherical marks pressed into his face, Jack was illogically content in the chamber of toxic gas. He spooned her from behind, ensuring he still took the brunt of each and every outburst that night. Gently he nuzzled in by her circular ears to sigh happily, “I know we always have a little fun with pretenses, but I want to say I really do love spending time with you.”

	The similarly nude alien breathed blissfully after unleashing a much softer butt bomb feeling things finally slow down inside of her. “Of course, this one would not bear the symbol of our bond otherwise…” With her third arm not preoccupied by cuddling, she idly rotated the ring on her necklace and watched it sparkle off the waning candle light. “For us time is a very different concept, and yet similar feelings have taken root with this relationship.”

	She paused, but before she could figure out how to phrase the next part a loud wheezing could be heard somewhere on the abandoned floor. “OH GOD, what the fuck reeks like that? Did one of those toxic headcrab zombies get in here?”

	Immediately the couple set to work flipping around clothes and hiding the evidence of their love nest. This talk could wait for another special night, after all they had each other for as many nights as it took to sample every human food known to man. By Lucetta’s calculations however, she would be sampling new things with Jack sampling the results well past the time they were needed at this base. Images of a more permanent home with him flitted through her mind, one where they wouldn’t be interrupted for the rest of their lives. However, at the moment a list of excuses for the unearthly odor swirling around this floor might be more useful to her immediate situation…






Bombshell Babe (A Very Graceful Deathclaw)

	Some people yearned for a nuclear winter, but it turns out mid-February in the post-apocalyptic Midwest wasn’t very interesting. The occasional snowfall however, was a small price to pay for one of the most peaceful regions of the wasteland someone could ask for. While most mutated residents hibernated, long time residents bunkered in, and the few raiders that meandered this far north pillaged south like migrating birds, this left a particular couple without much to do.

	Grace may have been a deathclaw that hardly fit inside the large abandoned house in the frosted woods, but just a glance at her large patchwork dress cobbled together for a unique woman such as herself spoke volumes to how abnormal she was. A rather intelligent breed of her kind, she wandered long and far to end up here. Yet as she sliced a thin strip of molerat jerky with an extended claw, she set out a second plate. The previously single inhabitant of this isolated building and avid trader who made her dress was squirreling away somewhere in their storehouse of a basement.

	Humming to herself with a bit of a natural gruffness to her vocals, she busied herself preparing the dinner she had caught weeks ago before it was a massive hunk of jerky. Briefly she looked up from the counter already a crisscross of accidental claw marks, and eyed a pre-war calendar on the fridge. Absentmindedly she observed the picture of the perfect housewife posed with hips jutted out and a feather duster in hand. With a little bit of admiration for the centuries old fashion, she mimicked the pose. Yet as she swayed her hips, her thick tail knocked down a can of something from the table.

	With quick reflexes she caught the can… but with such a forceful grip she smashed the rusty metal into a mess of preservatives. Sheepishly she figured it best to simply open a window and toss the unfortunate casualty into a snowbank. Yet as she delicately spaced her claws to release a frigid breeze and chuck the evidence outside, the heavy metal hatch to the basement opened with a clang. Immediately the hefty lizard swiveled around and thumped her heavy tail to slam the window shut again. “Oh, dinner is almost ready!”

	James emerged from below with a large crate in his arms, winded from whatever he was doing. “That’s great to hear, I think I’m just on time.” Lugging his cargo closer, she noticed the box was unusually layered in scrap newspaper and rags spray-painted a bright red. What really caught her attention however was the sound of glass clattering against glass from inside that instinctively made her mouth drool.

	Trying not to let her blatant interest become too obvious, she didn’t turn from the counter. “What’s that? Something you hope to sell when things thaw out?”

	The man had to collect himself for a moment before speaking with a bit of a blush. “No… It’s a gift…” As soon as he said that word, Grace had already skidded across the floor so fast she narrowly avoided digging deep claw marks into the tiles. She loved how much time he spent home during this off season for business, but she already missed the little gifts he would bring back on the trails. With an eager audience he explained, “It’s not much, but I’ve been putting this together for a while. Only recently the last item came in… you’d be surprised what a trader who knows a guy who knows a guy who knows another trader can get with the right caps.”

	He pushed the wrapped package closer towards her. “It’s a special thing for today, Valentines day… because you’ve been the light of my life for a while now…” Grace reached over the gift and the table to make a practiced lunge dexterously maneuvering her lethal claws to pull him in close for a bear hug.

	“Thank you! You didn’t have to do that!” She relinquished her crushing embrace to hold him more softly and plant a small messy kiss on his forehead. “Also don’t forget how important you’ve become for me too. I couldn’t live without you.”

	Placed gingerly back on the ground, he gestured back to the gift. “Well sometimes words don’t cut it, so I got a little collection together for you.” The intimidating deathclaw leaned over the box, pausing to make sure he really wanted her to tear it up. With a nod of approval, she immediately gutted the crate of it’s glowing rainbow of contents. Clinking with carbonated liquid, Grace’s eyes lit up as she observed the array of nuka colas.

	“I didn’t even know they came in so many colors!” Eagerly she began lining them up like priceless artifacts, two or three bottles to each distinguishable variety waited to be opened. “Are these really all mine?”

	He laughed at her astonishment, “Yeah, really. I only collect quantum, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard word about how to get the other rare stuff.”

	Looking back up, he noticed she had already punctured one of the caps with a single long talon and emptied it’s glowing blue contents down her gullet. She smiled through her serrated fangs widely. “I LOVE that fizzy, sugary taste! What about the others? Are they as good?”

James made a show of looking her in the eyes with a serious glare. “Some say… they’re even better.”

	The monster of the wastes nearly lost her balance as she visibly swooned. “I c-can’t believe it! Come on the molerat is already out, I’ll drink them over dinner.” Unwilling to wait another second, she plopped some utensils down for her human lover and promptly gazed into her neon stash of soda. Her first pick had a colorless white glow, “Quartz? That’s like a rock right?”

	Caught up in her excitement he shook his head swiftly. “No, I mean yes, but the drink isn’t filled with rocks, it’s just the same color.” She held the bottle up inquisitively, before lifting it a bit higher towards one of her horns.

	“Hey wait, check this out I’ve been practicing.” She wedged the tip of her horn underneath the bottlecap and with a bit of a tilt sent the little object flying almost squarely onto his plate. “See? Now you can trade it unlike the ones I cut through…”

	Seeing her slow down a moment reflecting on just how many pieces of currency she broke, he cheered her on. “Any cost to have you with me is worth it, now tell me what it tastes like.” Eager to oblige, she added the lightly radioactive mixture to the ongoing mixture of chemical reactions stirring in her stomach. Her eyes went wide as the flavor hit her, but she kept drinking until the bottle was emptied.

	“Woah. That is SWEET!” Listening attentively to her appraisal, James watched her elaborate swirling the empty container in her hands like a connoisseur with a wine glass. “It’s almost too sweet, almost. I think I love it.” She leaned in for a little whisper, “Reminds me of Y. O. U.”

	He grinned as she breathed a hot puff down his neck, but she was back in a flash to sample another bottle. The next flavor had an orange glow, and she chose to savor the first mouthful, bathing her tongue in the new ice cold sensation. With a bit of indecision she muttered, “Tastes, fruity?” Swallowing another gulp she turned the bottle over delicately in her hands. “Cherry? I don’t think I’ve ever had one. I like it though.” Finishing off the bottle, yet more ammo was added to the brewing warhead in her gut. The fluorescent fizzing mixture audibly gurgled in her belly, causing her to politely blush.

	Having known she’d be blanketing the house in enough radioactive fallout tonight to justify opening the windows in winter, he pushed past any embarrassment she might have with an encouragingly caressing hold of one of her large clawed hand, delicately stroking her scaly palm with his thumb. “Go on, I think you’ll like the next one best.”

	She looked for a new color curiously, and stifled a raspy giggle seeing what he was talking about. A curious pink mixture labeled “Bombshell”. She read the tagline a little hushed, “Try new Nuka-Cola Bombshell! Perfect for women trying to keep a trim figure that's full of vigor!” Some might have interpreted this as a need to go on a diet, but for Grace the intent was clear. Her tail curled happily as she cooed towards her partner. “Think I’m a bombshell do you?” Eager to try this flavor in particular, she adored the pink-lemonade concoction washing over her tongue.

	What neither of them could have known however, was why this flavor in particular was so hard to get a hold of. It turns out Nuka Cola market research on new artificial sweeteners for the waistline conscious woman was only a partial success. Although it had zero calories, the synthetic sucrose whipped women’s intestines into an indigestion-fueled fury to rival America’s nuclear arsenal. After a disastrous testing session full of flapping skirts, the prototype batch was buried away… until now. At this very moment it slid down the deathclaw’s throat like the last ingredient in a weapon of mass destruction. Given Grace was already pro at exploding with regular varieties of nuka, the first sweet pink drop to hit her internal cauldron reacted instantly.

	With a frighteningly loud guttural growl, Grace erupted with an “unladylike” belch, though “thunderous” or “inhuman” may have fit the table shaking gust of stale sugar better. Her emission fell around them in a faintly visible mist of primarily pink and orange droplets, so she politely waved her long claws in a futile attempt to disperse the cloud. “Whew… sorry, must just be a little excited…”

	James simply stood to kiss the toothy maw still leaking visible steam on the sitting deathclaw, much to her delight. “Shush, I don’t mind. Now let’s get back to enjoying dinner.”

. . .

	The two chatted long past the sun going down, reminiscing about memories of the first winter they met while Grace cleaned out the entire collection of nuka cola. The normal pale yellow of the small lamp on their table seemed to be a different color tonight however, as persistent small gas leaks full of bright drink colorings tinted the atmosphere with increasing intensity. “-the snowman we built together was so great!” She laughed recalling how impressed he was with the boulder of snow she managed to roll for the body. “It was such a greaaaoOOoOohhh-“ An involuntary droning groan left her as she pummeled the chair beneath her with yet another deep reverberating rumble of gas for a few seconds. At this rate the furniture could practically be decommissioned as a nuclear disposal site with how many radioactive farts it had endured.

	While she sighed with frustration at how little relief the noisy outburst seeping under her dress provided, James felt his head spinning in the agonizing atmosphere of cloyingly sweet death she had created one poot at a time. The trader might have built up a tolerance after being with her so long, but all these new colas were creating something downright toxic. The mixture of colors in the air gradually became more and more pink, a possibly romantic setting if it didn’t fog the windows with the smell of sugar-coated decay burned over the unbearable heat of her overclocked bowels.

 	“Apologies…” Grace shyly spoke up. “I think one, ugh, or a couple of those drinks aren’t sitting well with me…” She leaned over slightly to flap the hem of her skirt with yet another short plume of fumes nearing the same color as her blush.

	Her lover however found his mind swirling with memories of their first night together as well as another lungful of nose searing sweetness. “If you aren’t feeling well you can sprawl out on the bed… maybe I can give you a massage?”

	Her face of disappointment in her consistent crude tuba solo turned into a wry look of lust. She knew exactly where he hoped the massage would lead to. “That sounds lovely!” Gripping the counter to get back up on her legs, she nearly flipped the table with her rotund gut stretching her swaying dress. Both were shocked to take in just how dangerously bloated she had become, an unprecedented omen of flatulent things to come. Before she could rise to her full height, she felt the movement dislodge a swarm of voluminous bubbles inside her. Without warning her cheeks parted to spew another much larger column of colored colon smog. All she could do was grit her teeth and raise her tail as the airy fart steadily rising in pitch rattled the chair before tipping the abused furniture over.

	Taken aback by the unexpectedly destructive release that slipped past her, she groaned and grabbed her gut. “Umf, come on… let’s get to the bedroom before I burst…” James followed close behind in her still smoldering blast zone as she rushed down the hallway with increasingly labored panting. Sloshing the boiling contents of her stomach noisily, James found himself lightheaded on the smell… and the implications of what was coming tonight. His mind elsewhere, he found himself plopping into her behind with a lewd smack as she jammed herself into the doorway.

	Struggling to squeeze her bloated belly another inch, she heaved against the doorway without trying to break it. “Almoooost there! I can make it to the bedroom!” Her desperate battle against the tight confines of the door frame suddenly went slack as she felt a hand brush down her thigh. James was awestruck by the sight in front of him confirming she hadn’t worn anything under her dress today, but after a moment he swallowed nervously before accepting his fate.

	“This is your special night. I’ll massage you right here and you just let everything bothering you flow out, okay?” As he continued to knead what little he could reach to soothe the broiling carbonated tsunami inside of her, she gave a trusting nod before going limp. With a comparatively gentle push down on her quaking midsection, she erupted violently inches from his face. Her head hung low and her tongue lolled out as she finally felt meaningfully blissful release letting this monster of pink sulfur roll out from her jiggling behind like a fog machine. Any traces of molerat meat were disintegrated in the nuclear fallout of synthetic sugar twisted into distilled nasal napalm.

	Overwhelmed by the endless assault of pink perfume, he remained dutifully rubbing out more stomach turning fumes as she rumbled with an almost alligator purr of appreciation rendered inaudible by the raging rectal storm. As the seconds stretched on and on, his skin grew heavy with sweat that was quickly wicked away by the XL hair dryer pointed in his face and replaced with her own rank humidity, his sinuses were buried under an avalanche of stinging sour citrus and sugar, and his body actually shook with the sheer amount of force radiating into him. Dropping steadily in pitch until reaching subwoofer bass levels, he felt his consciousness slip briefly once or twice before the beast of flatulence finally steamed to a fluttering meaty finish.

	Boggled by the sheer volume of gas, he felt a mix of arousal and fear realizing her gut had hardly deflated. Grace also coming to her senses after having her brain melted by the relief spoke up mortified. “Sorry, sorry! This is going to be nuclear bad tonight… You might want to sit this one out…”

	James staggered to his feet, not done yet. With a playful movement of his fingers down her slick cheeks he spoke sincerely if a bit raggedly. “Trust me, I don’t mind… You remember that uh, ‘special’ quantum bottle you gave me after than first night we uh… formed our relationship on?” A mutual beet red blush spread across their faces, but his burned even brighter at what he was about to admit to. “I like to keep it on long trips… and sometimes… I, well I…” His voice fell low, just hardly detectable after the deafening bomb Grace had dropped. “Sometimes I smell it… to remember you. That stuff is almost weapon grade bad, but it’s worth more than gold coming from you.”

	Feeling like the more embarrassed of the two for the first time in a while, he waited in silence before he noticed something. Grace may have been wedged tight, but she pulled back an arm to lift her dress and fully expose a thin trail of something viscous from between her legs. Unable to process exactly what she was getting at with his head thoroughly fogged and fumigated by her rear, she muttered it boldly despite holding a hand over her face.

	“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard… We don’t need the bedroom tonight… you just show me that love right here right now.” Not one to deny her wishes, James bent down to decide which needy hole needed smooching more. The untraditional couple would be spending an equally untraditionally romantic night steadily deflating her way out of the hallway and nearly flooding the house to the point they couldn’t see a hand in front of their faces. Yet, in a tangled heap in the doorway, they only needed to feel each other held close, and hear the subtle whispers confessing their love to one another almost as frequently as her backside interrupted them.