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Research and Character Development	By : megadeth425 Category: Pokemon > Yuri - Female/Female Views: 3855 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon and make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Research and Character Development
- 1
Another entry in what I can really only dub the Shauntalverse. You don't necessarily have to read the previous stories to get this one, but it helps if you've read Three Courses, as it's talked about here. If you haven't read any of them; Shauntal is a smut writer, uses actual people (characters) in her stories, one of which involved Fennel and the three brothers from the Striaton Gym.

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"I feel like I've been here before," Shauntal purred, tearing a hole in her pantyhose as Fennel looked up at her longingly from the bed. She smiled at the woman, descending on her in one swift motion. A hand slipped up the milky, bared thigh to brush against the very bland and unsurprisingly cotton panties. Her fingers slipped down the band, running slow circles around the scientist's entrance, slick with anticipation. The purple-haired elite's neck was under assault from Fennel's tongue, her head pulled back to offer up her neck in a way that seemed eerily reminiscent of the story she had finished a few nights before. She straddled Fennel, using her upturned head as leverage to push their chests flush together beneath all of their clothes, still mostly on from their hasty lapse into the

bedroom.

Fennel's lab coat lay open, falling off her shoulders and resting as a sheet beneath them atop the made hotel bed. Her skirt was hitched up, a hand visible beneath it, teasing of her. There was a heat to her kisses, a need, a powerful thrill surging through her body that made her weak in both mind and spirit. The ghost trainer taunted her with pleasure that always seemed just out of range, just out of perception. In her surrender, she had been taken in by a trickster, a tease, someone who would take great joy out of watching her squirm before and during their carnal release. She had walked boldly into the lion's den and only showed her meekness when the hunt was over and the prey was to be toyed with.

All the excitement made her bite down on her lip and moan. She hadn't felt that good in years.

..............................................................

"I'm so glad you could meet me like this," Shauntal said, opening the restaurant door for the researcher to walk through ahead of her. She stood out in the Striation City cafe like a sore thumb, wearing a rather offbeat black dress and some indescribable black ribbon that looked like flower petals of some kind around her neck. Even in normal clothes, her neatly-kept pageboy hair style with bangs falling over her wide glasses would have made her look a little strange. A few heads turned to her, and then some of them gave her a second glance, this time noting the amble bosom her dress lovingly showed off, or the very long legs that even when obscured by her black tights, looked delectable. There was an attraction behind her eccentric appearance, that much was certain.

Professor Fennel threw back some of the dark blue hair that had strayed over her shoulder. It was long, reaching down past her knee, topped off with a single floral clip that looked miniscule among so much hair. In a different breed of eccentric, she wore her lab coat, mostly buttoned up, only revealing a pink blouse beneath it. She had a smile on her face and her hands must have been magnets for how often they clasped together. She was not as odd a sight in the cafe, though a couple heads still turned her way regardless. "Oh, it's my pleasure. I've wanted to talk to you in person for so long."

Before Shauntal could respond, a blue-haired man with a boyish smile and an impeccable sense of dress addressed them. "Ladies," he said in a voice that was sure to make most of the female clientele swoon, "Welcome to the Striaton City Gym. May I bring you to your table?" There was something soft about him, reserved and indrawn. Nevertheless, he flashed a smile at the two, and the bending in Fennel's knees was almost audible.

"Of course you may, Cress," Fennel said, trying to regain her composure and drain the colour from her face, though the reaction only made him give her another imposing charmer smile. She stepped ahead of Shauntal a little as they were brought to a table.

The cafe doubled as a gym, the three brothers who ran it acting as both gym leaders and staff. There was a gentle ambiance to it all, candlelight and class everywhere they looked. It was almost a little alien to Shauntal, used to cheap delivery food brought to her quarters in styrofoam containers. She rarely ate out anymore, even though she dated fellow elite Grimsley, whose tastes ran fine and out of his price range. All of that seemed secondary to her, though, as she matched up the restaurant with the mental image she had of it, and Cress's tone and mannerisms with customers being the ones she imagined him having. She wasn't too far off on the latter, but she did underestimate the sheer size of the cafe, not nearly so cramped and intimate as she first thought. There was far, far more space and tables than she assumed. Thankfully, it didn't seem so far off that she felt the story ruined by it.

When Cress seated them, Fennel's face reddened even further. Her attempts to hold on failed her as she looked down at the menu awkwardly.

"What's wrong?" Shauntal asked, opening up her own menu and perusing it. Much to her dismay, most of the food seemed of the variety usually kept out of styrofoam containers.

"When I read the story, this--the table was the one where I-I..."

That brought a smile to the writer's face, and she put down the menu. "Was it now? What luck, I guess."

She shook her head. "No, I specifically ask for this table. Cress knew where to bring me when we came in. Sometimes I lose myself in daydreams sitting here, hoping that... Well, wishing that the story was real. T-that's what you wanted to talk about, right? The story."

"Among other things. Your letter intrigued me, and since I was passing through, it seemed a good idea to meet with you. I think you can help me with a few things."

"I can? What kind of--"

"No need to worry about that now. That can wait until after we eat."

Just on time, a green-haired man sidled up along the table and gave them a bow. "Good afternoon, ladies. My, you are looking lovely today, Fennel. Oh, and Shauntal. It has been so long since we last saw each other. I trust you're enjoying the off-season."

The ghost trainer nodded, rolling her shoulders a little. "I am, thank you, Cilan."

"Well, have you decided what you'll have today? If not, may I recommend today's special, fettuccine Altaria?"

"I'll take your word on it," Shauntal said, having not even opened her menu. "And coffee. Whatever's strongest."

Fennel smiled at the green-haired charmer. "The usual for me."

"Of course." He nodded, not writing down the order, merely walking off.

The scientist leaned back in her chair a little, fanning herself. "That smile," she murmured

"I'm not sure if this is a compliment or getting a little weird," Shauntal mused, pulling off her long black gloves and resting them on the table beside her. "My story has really done that much for your dining experience?"

"I can't look at them the same way anymore. Oh, sometimes I wish they'd just clear out all the customers and bring me cake."

"It's interesting. I write about plenty of real people, but they've never sent me a letter thanking me for it."

"It's lonely, holed up here in my lab all day. You captured the loneliness of it perfectly. It felt like, even though we hadn't met, you understood me. And then as I read it, it just... I've cleansed my pallet to it many times, if you understand me."

With a smug grin, Shauntal leaned back in her chair. "I do. And I thank you for the compliment."

"I don't get to date or anything. The closest I have to any relationship like that is with Aurea, and we're so far away, always too busy to meet."

"Called it!"

The ever-present shade of red in Fennel's face deepened. "You're so loud," she said meekly. "Please, don't--"

"Sorry." The writer leaned forward and rested her hands on Fennel's, which were clasped and resting on the table. "Please, go on. I won't interrupt again."

"I've read your stories for quite a while. I like your style, and it helps make the lonely nights less lonely. But to read an erotic romance story about myself... It was such a shock. I should have hid in my room, ashamed that I had starred in such a story and wondering how long until someone read it and started talking about it. But instead, I began to come down here more often. It got me going out of the lab, so that counts for something."

"Did I get you right? In terms of how you'd behave in the bedroom." The starkness of the question only struck her a moment later, and she got to have some colour fill her own face with embarrassment "Er, I'm sorry if this is all a bit too forward. If you don't want to tell me, it's fine."

"No, it's okay. Just... I've never really talked about it is all. No, you didn't get it right. Not at all. I mean, it was still enjoyable to read, but I'm a lot more... Submissive, I guess. Aurea has certain tastes that aren't the usual fare for romance stories, so to speak. It didn't take me much convincing to come to like them."

"How much out of the usual fare?"

"Bondage, domination, toys that tend to go beyond just simple vibrators. We usually don't go too far into pain territory, but Aurea's default setting is pretty rough."

Shauntal's face reddened a bit more, and she looked down at her purse, at the bunches of notebooks that occupied most of the large bag. Buried in there somewhere were the beginnings of a story that she had hoped to get some reference for, and what Fennel was telling her made most of her progress rather moot. "Oh, dammit," she murmured, but before she could say anything, their food arrived. Cilan flashed them his cutter smile as he took from the tray their plates and glasses, winking at them before whisking away with all the fancy and fabulousness the grass-type trainer was known before.

"What?" Fennel asked, lifting her fork stabbing into the salad with a crunch.

"I didn't only come all the way out here for Three Courses. See, I was writing another story involving you. One with Professor Juniper, and after your letter and your enthusiasm about meeting, I was hoping to get a better understanding of exactly how the dynamic would have worked. I have a fair amount done already, but with what you're telling me, none of it works. I mean, you were on the bottom, but the most 'domination' it ever got as Juniper with a vibrator straddling you."

"Well, you can still write that, can't you? It doesn't have to be completely accurate."

"Yes it does. Now that I know, I wouldn't be able to write it any other way. Being a writer is strange like that; I think creativity is obsessive-compulsive in some really bizarre ways. W-would you mind giving me some more details after lunch is done?"

Fennel's eyes darted back and forth a little before she took a bite of her food. "I guess. It's the least I could do."

After a moment of silent eating, Cress came by the table with two plates. "Ladies, I hope you still have an appetite, because this is for you. Compliments of the house." He put them down on the table; two desert plates with a slice of cake. Not just any cake; chocolate cake that contained chocolate in the same way the ocean contained water. It was something a dentist would recoil in fear at the sight of, caked with icing, rimmed with frosting, streaked with chocolate sauce...

Shauntal smirked at the sight of it, while Fennel got a bit light-headed. "Thank you, Cilan," the elite smiled. "However did you know about my friend and I's love of chocolate?"

"Merely a guess my dear," he said with a smile so wide that he must have known. The scientist looked like she was going to faint, and he could not have made it more obvious if he had nudged her and asked, "Get it?"

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"Morty could feel her surprisingly strong legs wriggle around his sides as the trembling Whitney seemingly tried to pull him in closer, but couldn't quite do it. He groaned, adjusting his thrusts as though she had locked them around his waist, coming in from a different angle and making them much deeper. There was a little fat on her, and with each push, as their bodies came together, he could feel the soft cushion of skin against his smooth, somewhat toned abdomen.

"'You're wonderful,' moaned breathlessly, his lips up against hers, but not locked in any deep kiss. Another thrust, and his upper body pushed against hers, feeling the wetness of his saliva from her round, full bosom, following up her neck, and to her mouth. It was scarcely a trail, so frantically-laid and messy that it merely left a berth of its presence that tapered off gradually as it went up. With each push into her, he could feel her tight, slick tunnel lovingly accepting him.

"A tear pushed through the plump gym leader's eye as her body rocked with each push inside her. He was gentle, but certainly not slow. She could feel light kisses trace down to her cheek, and she pushed up against him meekly. Every rock of his hips sent warmth running through her veins like fire, and when his hands snaked up her sides, slipping beneath her arms and coming to entangle themselves in her hair, she shoved against him harder. He had been so good to her, using that always-smiling mouth to please her from her thigh upward. His entrance had been careful and loving. Even then, as he was inside of her, building up a good pace inside of her as that grew with the sound of his thrusts, she could only call him gentle and patient.

"'You're crying,' he said, his motions slowing down as he pulled his face away. 'Is something wrong? Is it the battle we just had?'

"'N-no,' Whitney said, her voice caught up by the winds of passion and coming out shakier than intended, 'I'm just so... Happy. That you're here.' She leaned up to kiss him, seizing his lips with hers and giving him as deep a kiss as she could muster. He reciprocated, gently running fingers through her hair as he led her back down slowly to the pillow, pushing further so that the soft, feather-filled cushion rose around the sides of her head and muted the sounds of their lovemaking as she sank into it."

"And so far, that's what I have," Shauntal said, putting the notepad down onto the coffee table. After indulging with their chocolate cake, the two retired to Fennel's home/lab to talk and familiarize for the rest of the day. Fennel even offered to cover lunch on the condition Shauntal read some of her newer stories and whatever she was last working on.

Fennel put the teacup, resting her hands on the table and drawing in closer. "Incredible. I can't wait for it to be finished."

"I'm glad you liked it. Usually, I only have Grimsley to bounce these things off of, and reading him stories usually gets him a bit too worked up to give me anything very constructive."

"And he's okay with you writing these things?"

"He encourages me to. That's how we met, actually. He loves me reading to him, especially in the bedroom."

"Oh, my." The dark blue-haired girl faced down at her tea. "That must be interesting."

"Well, we all have our little things in the bedroom. Some read erotica on all fours with their boyfriend hunched atop them, some get tied down and dominated."

With colour filling into her face at a stunning rate, Fennel tried to cough a little, "Yes, well. I guess it does come down to taste, then."

"So, if you don't mind me asking now, do you think you could give me some of the details?"

"What do you want to know?"

"What toys are used; how you're bound, with what, and to what; what you call each other; if any teasing happens; the exact dynamic; oh Arceus, even just the feeling. Describe it all for me, please. This is a new world for me, and I have to know everything! Spare no details, please." Shauntal had, in the process of going through the list, stood up, leaning over the table with her face dangerously close to Fennel's, her hands on the table, holding it with such force she seemed to be trying to tear chunks out of it. Her eyes darted around awkwardly as she looked at the very shocked and--surprise--embarrassed scientist, before she slipped back into her seat, adjusted her glasses, and sipped some of her tea. "Er, sorry. I get a bit carried away sometimes."

"Clearly. I can tell you everything, it's no problem. Just... It's a road I only really go down in private. It fills me with a longing that's hard to bite down. All the loneliness... It fills me with need and won't leave for days whenever I think about what Aurea and I do."

Shauntal nodded, resting a gloved hand on Fennel's. "I understand. Look, if you're still unsure, it's okay. I won't make you tell me anything, and if it's going to upset you, we can leave it be right here and just talk about anything."

"No, it's okay." She placed a hand on Shauntal's. "I'm already too worked up to go back, I'm afraid. Someone coming along asking all those questions, reminding me what it's like... Especially someone whose books have given me many--" She jerked back without warning, removing both hands and pulling her chair a good foot or so away from the table. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into my head, trying to do that. You have a boyfriend and--"

Shauntal snorted, "Oh, please. Grimsley and I have an understanding. More than an understanding, actually. If you were getting at what I think you're getting at, I'd love to."

Words failed the stammering researcher, whose attempts at sentences all failed. In fact, she could barely form a thought as a hundred screaming voices all fought for acceptance. Here was a woman who had come by, gotten her thinking about Juniper in ways that drummed up a mix of arousal and loneliness, and was offering to--

Without waiting for a response, Shauntal circled around the table, pulling Fennel in and cutting off the stream of half-words with her lips. There was an initial tinge of resistance and fight, before dying out quickly. Fennel melted into their kiss, feeling the sheer fabric of the glove against her face. She reciprocated, pulling Shauntal closer and running hands along the small of her back. There was a weakening in someone's knee--though the matter of whose would forever remain a mystery--and before they could get a solid foothold, they fell back against the kitchen wall, Fennel backed against it with her guest pushing against her. Something clicked, and the ribbon around the elite's neck fell to the ground. Another click, and one of the buttons on the lab coat gave. One pantyhose-clad leg pushed its way up and between the bare white legs of the scientist, making contact with her and sending a surge through her spine that made her jerk forward against Shauntal. The ripple tore up her body and sent a pang of confusion and bliss straight to her brain.

"I haven't kissed like that in forever," Fennel said, fanning herself off as Shauntal gave her some space. "Oh Arceus, you're serious, aren't you?" She flopped forward a little, being caught by Shauntal.

"I am. I don't think I'm even close to ready enough to try and do what Aurea does to you, but I think I can still top you pretty hard. Shall we?"

"Let's."

Fennel led Shauntal to the bedroom, and with a sudden push, found herself thrown onto the bed. It wasn't violent or malicious, but forceful enough to know that Shauntal meant business. Fennel's glasses came loose, pushed up so they were twisted, still locked into one ear while the other was titled upward and on her forehead. She didn't fix them, though. She barely moved. Just lay there, breathing heavily as arousal rendered her legs putty and she merely basked in the long-forgotten thrill that was to follow.

Shauntal back, and saw Fennel in a new light at that moment. So vulnerable, meek, willing. Submission was in her eye and printed on her face, there for the taking. It wasn't just that she was low-key and shy. No, in the bedroom, the professor became prey, pure and simple. She had certainly had girls before, but never had Shauntal dipped into the realms of submission of this kind. It thrilled her, and when her eyes shut tightly, she could see the pen and quill visibly in her mind, ready to scrawl its noisy scrawl in her mind as the story wrote itself.

Expecting it to come in handy later, she put one leg up on the bed and, with something she had done many times and brought down to a science, tore a wide hole in her pantyhose around the crotch area. "I feel like I've been here before," she mused.

Ah, flashback humour.

She didn't descend on Fennel quickly or roughly, but there was an undeniable presence to her slow motion, one that asserted dominance nonetheless. The other buttons of the lab coat were soon opened and it fell loose. The weight of a body atop hers made Fennel squirm a little, though she was pretty well trapped, defenceless as the gloved hand sank down her thigh slowly, only to run back up it fiercely, forcing its way up her skirt, riding it up as it went straight for the prize. A teasing rub through the fabric of her cotton panties made her squirm and call out meekly, only to be presented with Shauntal's neck.

"Use your mouth for something useful," the elite said, and her partner obliged, kissing up at the skin. It was such a shame that she always wore that large, obtrusive ribbon, as Fennel noted that her neck was quite lovely, pale and soft to the touch of her lips. With that settled, Shauntal slipped her fingers into the panties to tease and rub. It did everything it could to stimulate the sensitive flesh with promises unfulfilled and gossamer-soft touches. It struck the nerves, lit them up, but provided nothing substantial enough to get Fennel any closer to release. Her own legs grinded together as she fought to keep the other hand from her own pelvis, instead snaking it up the researcher's shirt. Fennel's breasts were small, barely even a palmful, but there was a pleasant shape to them, a nice curve and perkiness that made them one of the nicer pairs of her size Shauntal had the pleasure of feeling up. Beneath the bra they sank, fingers running gently against each other with a pink nipple between them, which grew harder as they rubbed.

With an uncomfortable jerk, Fennel pushed away the writer, adjusting her glasses as Shauntal pulled away with concern. "I'm sorry, but this just... It's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you're not used to it, and I don't expect you to be like Aurea, but... You're just teasing. There's no domination, there's no feeling that you own me or I have to obey you." She panted a little, placing a hand on her chest. "I'm sorry. But you wanted to know what it was like, and th-this isn't it."

She was right. Shauntal had never done anything like this before. Hell, even bondage seemed a foreign, spicy concept to her. Strange, given some of the things she wrote and all her experiences. The entire approach was wrong, but teasing was the most she had ever done; she hadn't fully realized just what it would entail. In all of her arousal, it never occurred to her what she was actually getting herself into. Well, that just wouldn't do. Shauntal wouldn't dare fail as a writer that much, throwing away the chance to understand and gleam a taste of the task before her. Oh, and she couldn't let Fennel down. In her eyes, even real life was just a story she had little control over. If it was demanded of her, maybe going out of character was acceptable, if it served the narrative and was only temporary. Come next chapter, she could be the same old her, and her very kinky night could be character development.

"Turn around and raise your ass," Shauntal said forcefully, pulling her wide, round glasses off and tugging at her glove. Her fingers were long and spidery, showing off their dexterity in a few ripples they made when they came free of it. There was a sudden shift in her expression, a souring of her usual smile and a sternness in her eyes where there had usually been carefree friendliness.

A confused Fennel obliged, getting on all fours and raising her rear into the air, unsure of exactly what was going on, but hoping things had taken a turn into a different direction. Her lab coat slipped off of her arms as she moved, and when she was in position, her skirt clung tightly to the delicious curve of her behind.

The sudden hard smacking sound registered for her just a fraction of an instant before the sudden surge of pain did, making her push forward and bury her face into the pillow. She let out a surprised whimper in time for another impact of the writer's immaculate hand on her firm butt.

"Don't you ever complain about the pleasure that I give you, understand?" There was an edge in Shauntal's voice that had never been there before. It was rough, aggressive, and surprisingly persuasive.

"Y-y-yes," Fennel replied, raising her head from the pillow to look at the elite, who had completely shifted gears.

"Yes..." she said, letting the word hang for just a moment before she spanked her again.

"Yes mistress!" she shouted, her eyes rolling back as excitement shot through her. A ripple followed the pain, making her squirm with surprisingly flexibility in a single wave motion from back to neck.

"Good. You will address me only as mistress. Now, where do you keep your toys?"

"Bedside table, middle shelf, under the folded towel." She reached back to rub her sore ass--Shauntal had quite the arm on her. Seeing the surge of fire in her mistress's eyes, though, she quickly stammered, "Mistress," as a hand raised to discipline her. It hung for a moment before coming back down.

With hammy over-exaggeration, Shauntal's movements made her smile widen a little and some strange sense of joy fill into her. Playing a role was fun, and hamming it up like some cruel villain was another layer of enjoyment altogether. Every moment she played made it seem like a better idea entirely. She pulled open the drawer, tossed the decoy towel out, and found the woman's collection of toys. She certainly had a sense of how to make up for her loneliness; there were several different dildos and vibrators of different sizes and shapes, including the often-joked about Dragonite penis replica. A couple of strap-ons seemed admittedly out of place if she was doing it all solo, as did the variety of bondage implements--ropes, handcuffs, scarves....

Scarves. Hm, she'd have to have a talk with Grimsley when she got home.

She pulled out several items and left them on the bedside table. "I want to see how well you perform first," she said, and though her voice was rough and demanding, there was a certain smoothness to it. Pull your head up from the pillow. Without waiting any amount of time, she grabbed a fistful of dark blue hair and tugged it hard, making Fennel shout as she was pulled up.

"I'm sorry mistress," she yelped, breathing heavily and trying to pretend the hair pulling didn't send little shocks of pleasure straight down to between her legs.

"I hope you are." As she spoke, she positioned herself onto the bed such that she sat against it, her legs spread open, and Fennel's held head near her. Each heavy breath the submissive took sent warm, wet air coursing through Shauntal's cleavage. "Before I even consider giving you any kind of pleasure, you will please me, and then I will decide how worthy you are. Do you understand?"

With her words twisted into a whine with another tug of her hair, Fennel replied, "Yes, mistress!"

"Good." The elite spread her legs out, the skirt riding up her thighs to reveal the large crotch hole she had made earlier in her pantyhose. It was a kink of Grimsley's that she had inherited, and it came in definite handy there. She hadn't been wearing panties that day--it was a thrill she indulged in sometimes--leaving her slightly-opened and very slick pussy on display for the panting Fennel. She was neatly trimmed, and the carpets did indeed match the drapes.

The scientist's head was brought close to it, letting the breaths run against her soft labia momentarily before she was pushed into the act, whether she was ready or not. The hand pushed against the back of her head, and the presence of the tongue on her slit made Shauntal's hips jerk forward.

Fennel was no stranger to such rough treatment. Her true mistress, Juniper, did it rather often, and she had eventually come to spite the rough treatment and inconvenient position, actually having a semi-decent technique. Of course, she'd never hear that from her mistresses. That meant she was doing well, actually. Her ass was still sore, her scalp was similarly aching and probably short a few hairs, and her sense of taste was overcome by the flavour of Shauntal's snatch. Her head was dizzy from the slight pain, but all it did was heavily arouse her. For the first time in far too long, she was being used, controlled, and it made her feel alive.

Keeping rigidly in character, Shauntal barely moved. Usually, it was Grimsley between her legs, eating her out as she read him a story that he could only dimly comprehend, and during the act she would writhe, squirm, and moan. Words of encouragement and pleasure regularly interrupted her story, and her voice didn't even try to stay level. None of that would fly in Fennel's bed, though. She had to keep level, keep quiet, keep stern. Fennel couldn't know how damn good her tongue felt, how hard it was for Shauntal's legs not to buckle. It wasn't the whole 'sit back, get pleasured, and occasionally say something insulting' that she thought it was. Speaking of 'something insulting'...

"I said pleasure me! If you're not going to serve me well, then maybe I'll just tie you to the bed and leave."

Fennel wanted to plead, wanted to beg her mistress not to do that, but her lips were flush against the woman's crotch. Words could hardly be formed, let alone properly heard. The tirade continued though, going on about how each minute she was left without an orgasm would earn her a spanking, how she was worthless and her inability to make her mistress feel good meant she'd just be dropped and left alone again. Her legs grinded together as each insulting word, spat out of her lips like burning velvet, made her ache with need. Each breath she took was heavy with Shauntal's smell, as her nose was buried into the patch of purple hair just above her slit, and she was growing light-headed. Somewhere in the process, her glasses had gone; they probably fell off during the spankings and were somewhere, hopefully uncrushed. The idea to distract herself with thoughts of her glasses failed, though, as the intense urge for pleasure crept up on her. She tried to worm a hand down her body to her sore pussy, almost throbbing with the need for attention. After so long by herself, she finally had someone to indulge in her dark fantasies with, and it left her so hungry. Maybe her mistress wouldn't notice. Or maybe, she was pleasing her mistress enough that she would be allowed to.

Those hopes were foolish, naive, and she would pay for them.

The hand that had cupped the back of her head dug into her hair and twisted it. Pain jolted through Fennel as she yelled out, her face pulled from her mistress's soaked, delicious folds.

"I did not give your permission to please yourself!" she snarled, pulling again. It was the hardest pull on her hair yet, and Fennel wasn't sure if she was going to pass out or orgasm. "You were to earn your right for release." With her free hand, she reached for a pair of handcuffs on the table and released the woman's hair. Her servant fell flat into the blanket as she reached forward and grabbed both soft, milky wrists, locking them in place behind her back.

A whimpered Fennel was pulled back out of the mattress and again, her face was thrust into her mistress's cunt. Her hands were bound, tight together, and the cuffs dug into her skin from being locked too tightly in. She was stuck, especially as the fingers entangled themselves in so much of her very long hair that the next time she so much as breathed wrong, she would be made to know. She resumed her oral worship of the writer's tart canal, eager to please her, to atone for her misbehaviour and disrespect. She would make up for it, give her apology in the form of release, earn her favour, and through pleasing her mistress, she would please herself.

Shauntal's body arched back a little and she cut the woman a little slack, showing a bit of humanity. Her occupied hand, wrapped in the silky blue hair, held her head in place as she moved her hips. The free hand dug into her dress, pulling her breasts out of them--like with her panties, she skipped on the bra that morning--and letting them fall free. All of the arousal had perked her nipples right up, and as she aggressively face-fucked the submissive scientist, she began to knead her breast and tweak the nipple. "Okay," she said, "Maybe you are a decent rug-muncher. Keep going, and maybe I'll fuck you. Would you like that?"

The muffled, "Yes, mistress," that Fennel responded with made Shauntal positively giddy. She was having the time of her life by that point, revelling in the character she played and the new, foreign pleasures she indulged in. They were sure to colour her sex life for quite a time after she had finished the story, intrigued by the whole process and eager to try it again, maybe even on the other end of matters. Watching Fennel squirm and buckle, seeing how her arms still jerked in vain against their restraints, gave her the sort of inspiration that could rarely stay confined to the story. The scrawling in her head ran rampant as the words formed, as her mind pieced things together, visualizing the words and the characters. Her thought process made the scrawling louder, so much so that it dulled her ears and the sounds of Fennel breathing and whimpering into her snatch seemed quieter for it. Of course, she could scarcely formulate an entire story with only a rough bout of oral sex. She gazed toward the table, to the untouched toys that could have been used in a thousand ways. There was such variety to them; she wondered why she didn't have so much to work with. She'd spent enough nights hot and bothered after writing, sex so prominent in her mind from her second job that it was only natural. Fennel's toy box beat hers by leagues.

She grabbed a strap-on, seemingly new and unused since it still had the tag on it. Mounted on it was certainly one of the more tame dildos of the collection, not being a replica of Pokemon genitalia or anything gimmicky, but being long and wide enough to bring a twisted smirk to her mouth. Now, she just needed to figure out how she'd use it on Fennel. She could put the researcher between herself and a wall, though that would rouse anyone else in the building and lead to questions. Tie Fennel face-down, get the Dragonite dildo sank all the way into her vagina, and then ravage her ass? Seemed a bit much, though it would make for a good story idea. It amused her a little; for all she had figured out how to position people in countless stories and generally knew what someone with a penis would do, she couldn't for the life of her figure out what to do when she herself had one.

The obvious position would probably be best, though. After a second's contemplation, she nodded to herself, and pulled Fennel back from between her legs. The area around her mouth shone a bit in the light, slick with saliva and her fluids. "Turn around," she said, giving the hair one last tug for good measure before she let go of it.

"Yes, mistress," Fennel said, turning around, remaining in the same position as she felt the bed shift a little. She knew what was in Shauntal's hands, and it drove her wild.

After getting it on with a little discomfort and confusion, Shauntal looked at Fennel's ass in front of her, raised up in the air, profiled nicely by the skirt. It had to go, though. She grabbed the hem of the skirt and pulled it up so hard it tore in several places--not that she cared in the heat of the moment--and let it bundle up around her waist. With that same aggression, she tugged off the plain white panties, though those didn't come off painfully, rolled up and clung to Fennel's ankle in a way that Shauntal had a fondness for. With her sufficiently undressed, she ran a finger up the glimmering, absolutely drenched slit, neatly kept and rather cute. Had they not been engaged in such rough, unceremonious things, it was certainly one she'd want to go down on. Instead, she scoffed, "Look at this. So aroused from being humiliated and used. You are to be ashamed of yourself for this, so horny and loose that even the thought of being touched sends you into fits."

"I'm sorry for being so loose, mistress," she whimpered, smiling widely as excitement exploded in her like fire works.

Even more so when she felt hands rest on her hips. Not the sort of calm, gentle grasp she usually read about from the ghost trainer's stories, but one where the fingers pressed against her and nail dug a little into skin. There was no slow push to let her get accustomed to it, no word of warning or soothing. The fake purple cock pushed its way into her with one heavy motion that made her shout out in sudden pain. It was a thick intruder, reaching deep, and there was little grace or ceremony in its penetration. With a sort of aggression she never used herself--but was familiar with nonetheless--it made its presence painfully known inside of her. The next thrust was just as dominant and hard as the first. She felt at home finally, fulfilled, pleased in a way she had longed for. If she shut her brain off, she could almost imagine it was Aurea violating her, except for the sleek glove still on one hand or how the voice off and the dirty talk wasn't vivid or demeaning enough. There was no deep mastery to her thrust, no experience with it that Aurea had from abusing and dominating her since their college days.

Still, there was something deeply satisfying about it all, making her writhe, each mighty thrust making her body heave. Her hair was frazzled, the taste of Shauntal's pussy was heavy on her tongue, and her arms were starting to get sore from the too-tight cuffs holding her hands behind her back. She could barely see the finer details of the pattern in the bed sheet her face rested on without her glasses. It had been too long since was fucked hard; the dildo was too much for her to take comfortably, and though the discomfort and feeling of fullness was a source of pleasure, she hadn't thought about it. Everything was on overload, and she could only whine and moan with intense pleasure/pain at it all.

Then, as if it wasn't enough, Shauntal leaned forward, her freed breasts pressing against the fabric of Fennel's pink shirt so hard that the scientist could almost feel the hard nipples poking through. "You didn't make me orgasm," she said, letting the words hang thick a moment so Fennel could take in that meaning. "I said one spanking a minute until I got release, but it never came. The clock is running, so instead, I think I am going to just spank you until I get tired of doing so."

"B-but you were the one that--" Fennel was cut off by a sudden tugging of her hair and a smack to her face.

"Do not talk back to your mistress!" she snarled, pulling her body away so that it was upright again. She wound her ungloved hand back and delivered a hard smack to Fennel's round ass, the hardest one yet, finally caught up enough in her character to go full-force. Fennel cried out as the subsequent thrust was, likewise, harder than the last. Her body pushed forward, another ripple running all the way up her back, which her spine rolled in time with. When her flung-up neck brought her head back down, she buried it into the bed. Attempts to grab a pillow failed as she just fidgeted a little, rubbing her nose in the sheets as Shauntal's laughter rang out and another spank shook her.

Initially, Shauntal had a staccato rhythm going between thrust and spank, played rapidly as she violated and humiliated the scientist. That proved too regular, though, and her wrist was admittedly getting a little sore from the unfamiliar motion. She knew that a constant, steady stream would peter out eventually, opting instead to just pound her into the bed and, whenever it felt least likely, surprise her with a loud, extra-hard smack to the rear. It seemed the best bet, it turned out, as Fennel never knew when it was coming and each strike was accompanied with a tremble and a sound that was torn somewhere between a moan and a cry of pain. She could practically feel the ache of the soft alabaster-turned-red from her abuse against her. Each thrust was a hard impact, and she imagined the leathery material of the strap-on only made it worse for Fennel as it struck bare flesh with full force every time.

Indeed, it did make it worse, and that sent Fennel's head off to the moon. Blood pumped and her head raced, unable to even form coherent thoughts at that point as everything was so perfect. It didn't matter that this wasn't as rough or creative as Juniper would have been with her; she had been so long without proper release or abuse that it all welled up inside her with explosive joy. Tears of intermingled joy and pain--the two seemed increasingly similar to her--wet the sheet. When fingers seized the hair resting on her lower back, more excitement jolted her into consciousness, just in time to feel the pull.

"Thank me," Shauntal barked, her breath ragged as the energy put into thrusting gave her a new-found appreciation for the man's share of work. "Thank your mistress for pleasuring you."

"Thank you, mistress, for taking pity on such a worthless, insatiable slave. I am unworthy of your kindness and deserve whatever you do to me. I hope the day comes when I can overcome my terrible urges and can devote my existence utterly to pleasing you every waking moment."

"What'll you do to pay me back for this?"

Smack.

The pain made Fennel bite down on her lip as she felt her eyes roll back in deep bliss. Drunk off of pain and ecstasy and shock, she could hardly even speak, her words frantic and hurried. "I will spend my whole night between your legs, servicing you without complaint or rest, if only you grant me this one orgasm, mistress."

"Very well. You may have your release, servant."

The permission was it for Fennel. Everything had reached its peak, and she practically been conditioned to wait for permission. Granted it, everything that had been repressed burst out from its prison, and the result sent her body into spasms. Trembling, Shauntal's continued thrusting only sweetened things as, pushed mentally and physically into nirvana, an orgasm tore through her that, on top of being so weakened, was liable to make her pass out at any moment. She shook, moaned, yelled, shouted out things loud enough to likely disturb the rest of the building and vulgar enough to make them look at her funny. Her abused, sore pussy dripped her juices onto the bed, which shook with her so hard that it worried Shauntal a little. She pulled out then, letting go of the hair and giving one last spank as Fennel's entire body fell slack, rear still raised as fluids ran down her creamy thighs. Breathing was hard and even with her eyes closed and head still, everything seemed to be spinning. It became hard to stay focused, or even conscious, as the writhing stopped and her body hadn't the energy left to do anything. Her legs went out from under her, and flush against the bed, everything went black.

..........................................................

When Fennel came to, she found herself tucked nicely and properly into the bed, Shauntal beside her, eating take-out of a styrofoam container in a sleek purple nightie and watching the television on the other end of the room, turned low and with the closed captioning on. She herself was naked, and saw on the beside table another container, this one unopened, and smelling delicious.

"Did I..." she groaned as she pulled herself up. "Did I pass out?" She looked around; there was little but darkness outside of her window, but in the winter, that could have meant mid-evening.

"You did. It's almost nine. I got you some supper, hope you don't mind Hoenn food. And sorry I got sensitive and fluffy again, I just couldn't stay in-character after the sex was over. My acting abilities left when I orgasmed, I guess."

"You orgasmed?"

"You have a lot of toys, dear. Some of them piqued my curiosity."

Leaning against the bedpost, Fennel pulled the blanket up so that it rested somewhere around her waist. "So, did you get what you needed?"

"I did; thank you. The story should come along nicely from here, and you'll be sure to get the first draft. There's just one thing I need to know."

"Oh?"

"When you and Juniper are done, do you sometimes just snuggle at night? Or have normal, fluffy sex after the rough stuff is over?"

"Mm, sometimes. Why?" She rolled her shoulders a little, looking at Shauntal with a smile.

The elite put her food down on the bedside table and leaned in a little, resting her hand on Fennel's face. "Because I may be tired, but I don't quite think I've had my fill yet." Their lips met as they sank down to the pillow, the "off" button on the remote being the last thing Shauntal touched with her hands that didn't moan at the feel of her fingertips.
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Research and Character Development