Well Laid Plans
The journey of a young man completing an incredibly explicit to-do list.
** K** eeping secrets in this day and age is becoming more and more difficult. The entire world is interconnected; every bit of known information is at all of humanity's fingertips. Social media networks are fully ubiquitous. PokéSnap allows young adults to share pictures and stories at the push of a button. Secrets are no longer meant to be kept under lock and key; they are meant to be broadcast to every single person possible. It only gets worse when you have a secret such as mine. Like most stories of note, mine begins when I was a kid. I remember it vividly, and I often recount it to myself. It feels odd writing it down, now, since this was something that I've never thought pertinent to share, but here goes. I grew up in the suburbs of Maryanne city. My family - mother, father, and two sisters - were solidly upper-middle class, and always got along well. Even my sister, Melanie, who took herself a little too seriously and love to pass judgment upon others even at a young age, fit in well with us, and her friends. My father was a well-known newsman, who covered battles between even more well-known trainers. He was fascinated with Pokémon. The bookshelves in his study were packed full of almanacs and scientific studies of Pokémon; some were entire tomes about more historically important breeds. I would often get in trouble for checking one out and forgetting to return it, but he was more excited that I was taking an interest in his profession than he was about not being able to research a specific Pokémon for half a day. These books kept my rapt attention, even before I started delving into more explicit subject matter. The books contained diagrams of the subject's anatomy, of the way their bones hooked together, attached with bundles of tendons and joints. Please don't be alarmed, this memoir does not go into any ghoulish places. Depending on your definition of ghoulish, of course. Like my father, I was enamored with Pokémon. When I was six years old, after much begging and pleading, my parents decided to allow me a Pokémon. My older sisters, who had never even mentioned desiring their own Pokémon, whipped themselves into a jealous rage. My mom had to deal with their frenzy while my father took me to the nearest adoption center. The building was small, unassuming. Grey brick, with modern accents near the front doors. A small sign was staked in the grass out front, which proclaimed free vaccinations for registered Pokémon. Inside, the smell was overwhelming. Pokémon, at the end of the day, were animals, and they had a scent and had bodily functions. I nearly passed out from the smell. It certainly wasn't disgusting or anything like that, but it was raw, pure, intoxicating. I was infatuated. It took me quite a while to make my choice. My father and the head caregiver walked me through to the play area, where the available Pokémon would strut their stuff for prospecting children and trainers. Most of the Pokémon there were not bred for battle. They were often members of litters that small families could not take care of, or pawn off on acquaintances. They were often young, as well. Pokémon are unrelentingly popular, and there was never a shortage of children, like I was, hankering to acquire a cute, fluffy pet. My father, myself, and the caregiver walked around, and they would casually point out information about the Pokémon that were in the enclosure. My first choice was a Seel, but my father sadly shot this down. A Seel would require many resources to care for, and even if my father agreed, the adoption center would likely shoot it down as well. Pokémon adoption wasn't exceedingly stringent, but the employees can decline adoptions at will based on dozens of factors. Most families do not have the ability to take care of a Pokémon that cannot subside on land, so the bubbly, happy water-type was not meant to come home with me. I watched it shoot a thin stream water out of its mouth, frowned, and continued my search. My next choice was on the money. As we walked past a small group of Pokémon, my father pointed out a Spinda. He explained that every Spinda has a unique pattern of splotches; no two of them were the same. The one in the adoption center did not look like any other Spinda in the world. I was excited. Spinda was almost the same height as me, and was a barrel of fun, wobbling around, working hard to keep her balance. She made eye contact with me, her spiral-shaped eyes locking onto mine, and she smiled. I smiled back, beaming. My father quietly asked the caregiver to go and prepare the papers necessary for adopting Spinda before I had even verbally chosen her. When we got back home, I immediately took Spinda into the backyard, armed with a small guide for training docile Pokémon. Spinda, in spite of her clumsy and wild appearance, was quick to learn. Within the hour, I had her wrapped around my finger. At one point, she hugged me, her soft, velvety fur brushing against my exposed arms. She squeezed tight, and I squeezed back. She smelled like any other normal-type Pokémon, a quiet, unnatural musk lilting off of her, but I quickly fell in love with it. I studied her spots intimately. She had the common Spinda markings, a red stripe across her waist, resembling a small skirt, and her arms were red. Her other spots were randomly placed; one on her left ear, near the tip, but leaving a small patch of beige at the very top. Two were on her chest, the one on the right slightly lower than the other. Finally, one on her back, dead center, almost like a target. Spinda was my closest and most cherished friend. I spent nearly every waking hour with her. We would play in the woods, while I held her hand to make sure that she wouldn't walk into any trees. We would eat together, and bathe together. We were inseparable. My sisters, Melanie and Michelle, were jealous at first, but they ended up falling for Spinda as well. She was the family Pokémon, but we all knew she was mine. A half-dozen years passed with Spinda by my side. Even though my mom was a tiny bit concerned with my obsession with Spinda, my father always came to bat for me, convincing my mom that it was perfectly natural for a child my age to be obsessed with a Pokémon. Spinda and I grew up together. Pokémon age slightly faster than humans, so by the time I was 12, she was nearly 16 years old in "Pokémon years". We matured in unison. Spinda became more accustomed to napping in the afternoon, and I had moved on to physiological textbooks about Pokémon. I was learning more and more about the anatomy of Pokémon, and my father's bookshelves were starting to become sparse. One day, while I sat on the floor with my back against the side of my bed, Spinda napping on the floor next to me, I noticed that she began to stir. I glanced over, then back, then back to her, my eyes going wide. Spinda was lying down, her head away from me, on her stomach. Her legs were slightly apart. In between them was a small, shiny hole. I immediately reached my hand out and touched it. Spinda did not stir again. My finger came away, and I saw a thin tendril of liquid connecting it and my finger. The tendril broke, and I brought my finger to my nose, sniffing it. I couldn't place the smell at the time, but I know now what the smell was. Sex. I felt my cock move. I remember that fully. I didn't connect the dots at the time, but I wasn't reading Pokémon textbooks at a fever pitch for nothing. I had a hint of suspicion what the glistening, wet hole was, but I needed to do research. My father was a smart man. When he realized that I was reading his books, sometimes at a pace of two or three a week, he went ahead and removed the ones that were in reference to more reproductive matters. I was also a smart child, and I knew exactly where he put them. I left my bedroom, leaving my napping Spinda alone, and made my way into the attic. Due to my small stature, it took some doing to bring down the ceiling stairs, but I managed to do it inconspicuously enough that my mom did not hear. I climbed the rickety stairs into the dusty, almost pollinated attic. Grabbing the small flashlight near the ceiling access panel, I stooped over to the stack of boxes marked 'Mitchell Study' and popped the top off of the first one. I quickly identified the reference I needed. It was a relatively large stack of paper, loosely bound together, titled 'The Female Reproductive Cycle - Normal'. Simple enough. I swiftly covered my tracks, closing the box, leaving the flashlight near the door, and pushed the stairs back up. I prayed my mom did not hear as I retreated to my room and closed the door. The encyclopedia was all-encompassing. Every tiny portion of my Spinda's reproductive anatomy laid out in accurately recorded diagrams. My neck was sore from snapping back and forth between the pages of the book and Spinda's own personal rendition of the designs. I did nothing besides learn that day. Spinda was in heat. If another Pokémon in her egg group decided to perform intercourse with her, there was a decent chance she would become pregnant. She could produce anything from one to four eggs. It was captivating. I admit that my own reproductive organ was straining, but I knew that it was in poor taste to put two and two together, if not fully illegal. The next day, however, I did not manage to withhold my urges. My parents asked if I wanted to come out to dinner at Arcies, but I declined, informing them that my stomach was slightly upset, and I was worried that pizza would exacerbate it. They agreed to let me stay home, and my mother gave me some stomach medicine. They walked out the door, and I waited for the telltale car door slam that Melanie often did before I burst into action. I stripped my pants off, my erect cock springing to attention, and went to check the driveway. I peered through the window and confirmed the rear-end of my fathers SUV leaving the neighborhood. I ran to the back door and ushered Spinda back in. My cock was throbbing now. I was now a solid foot taller than Spinda, and when Spinda entered the door, I swear her eyes became even more swirly than usual. She was just about eye level with it. I looked down at the top of her head and watched it wobble to and fro. "Spinda?" I said, quietly. Spinda looked up at me, her gorgeous swirled eyes fixated on my green ones, and her mouth was slightly open, shaped in an 'O'. Basic instinct took over. I gripped the base of my cock, pushed my pelvis forward, and pressed it awkwardly against her bottom lip. Spinda consented and pushed her mouth forward, taking in the majority of it. My knees nearly buckled. Her mouth was excruciatingly warm, soft, wet, tight. She sucked in, her puffy cheeks pressing against the sides of my member, and choked. I smiled warmly as she reeled over in surprise, her clumsy nature getting the best of her, and fell to the ground with a soft thud. She was absolutely in heat. No question. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and she spread her legs wide, revealing her pussy to me. She looked up at me, towering over her, and muttered her own name. I did as she likely wished and fell to my knees, the bottom of my cock flapping against her pelvis. It was so, so soft. Spinda was, and still is, incredibly light. She barely weighs as much as a medium sack of flour. I could always lift her, even as a child, and I did so then as well. I wrapped my hands around her lower back and lifted up her surprisingly wide hips, bringing her vagina up to the same level as my cock. I wasted no time clumsily shoving it inside of her. It took a couple of tries, but after a moment, I was fully inside of her. To this day, it's hard to describe being inside of Spinda. It is like no other feeling. The combination of her unnatural weight, her soft, pristine fur, and the crippling tightness of her hot pussy. It's unbelievable how hard her muscles press against me. If I leave myself inside of her and don't do anything, I swear she squeezes me out. As I write this, I've performed intercourse with a slew of assorted Pokémon, and as I write this, none have provided the exact sort of pleasure that Spinda did. I guess that's love. Her light, happy moans were music to my ears. I pumped myself into her, my cock bottoming out at the base. I noted that I could fit my entire length inside her, but I quickly fell into a haze, scientific thoughts such as that drifting out of my focus. All that mattered was my member entering my Spinda as quickly and smoothly as possible. I lifted Spinda off of the ground and let my butt fall back onto my heels. She squeaked and I lifted her, at an angle, almost all of the way off of my member, and pulled her back down. She squeaked again. My cock twitched. Holy shit did it twitch. I quickened my pace. She was so light. It was like having sex with a pillow. The sexiest pillow in the world. It was barely two minutes before I began frantically thrusting forward, my breathing becoming ragged and heavy, my heels digging in and out of my ass. Spinda was flat-out moaning with every push. It was bliss. Her pussy was becoming more and more slick, aiding my thrusts. She was trying to moan her name, but I interrupted her every time as my cock glided all of the way inside of her. "Spin!-Spin!-Daaaa!-Spin!" Her eyes were more swirly and unfocused than I'd ever seen before. I grunted, feeling a build-up behind my member. I knew what was happening. I was going to cum inside her. I pulled her up and away from myself, my cock slowly presenting itself to me, slick and shining, and dragged her back down as hard as I could manage. The moment her pussy made my cock completely disappear, I came, hard. My first orgasm was inside of my best friend, and I filled her up. I leaned forward, re-positioning my arms to wrap around her completely, bringing her into a fierce embrace as my seed pumped out inside of her. It felt like a million years, pulse after hot, full pulse, my cock's endless onslaught continuing for what was actually a few seconds. Finally, I was empty. I breathed hard into the top of her head and felt her heartbeat against my own chest. It was viciously fast, and I felt mine racing as well, veins all over my body throbbing, keeping me hot. "Spin...da," she muttered into my chest, and somehow, I hugged her even more tightly. Once my mental facilities rebooted, I released her from my grasp, and she moaned as I pulled myself out, my penis glistening with a warm mixture of my own semen and her juices. I watched as my cum slowly flowed out of her, and watched her little stubby legs shake uncontrollably. It was likely in the textbook I read, and I must have glossed over it, but Pokémon are fully capable of orgasm. In addition, Spinda was a huge fan of them. The best part was that after she reaches orgasm, she is fully incapable of walking for at least twenty minutes, minimum. The combination of her own, genetic clumsiness combined with the muscle tension from orgasm turns her into a noodle-legged mess. The sight was one of my favorites. I cleaned us up as Spinda laid on the cool kitchen tile, asleep. I was not joking earlier; I filled her up. It seemed like the trail of white seed was never-ending. I wiped up the floor, as well as my own crotch, and put the paper towels at the bottom of the outside garbage cans. I took the spare half hour I had to return the reproductive text to my father's secret box and took a shower with Spinda. I had sex with her again, on my knees in the bathtub while she stayed standing. She was shorter than me, so my legs needed to be separated in a deep triangle in order to reach. Every time I thrust into her, she nearly fell over, but I wrapped my arms around her small, damp body to keep her safe. The combination of the warm water splashing off of my back as I fucked her sideways (almost literally) ended up giving me the new best orgasm of my life at that point. I hoped Spinda felt the same way, and mentally confirmed this when she fell over, water splashing up around her, and moaned loudly. When my family returned, I was lying in bed with Spinda, fully clothed, reading a science fiction novel. My mother asked if I felt better, and I confirmed that I felt great.
Amazingly, I managed to keep this behavior a total secret for my entire adolescence. When I moved out at 19, they were none the wiser. I taught Spinda to stay quiet while I fucked her, and trained her to be discreet when it came to our relationship. Even while she was in heat, she did not make it obvious that she wanted me. She kept it quiet until we were alone. She would climb on top of me in the middle of the night and paw at my cock until I was hard, and sit on it. Some mornings, I would wake up with my genitals exposed, slick with her juices, and have no memory of having sex with her. She would be curled up beside me, content. I made love with Spinda a bare minimum of once a day for seven years, and usually, it was twice. By the time I moved out, I was nothing short of a sex maniac. The first day in my new apartment, which was about twenty minutes away from my parent's home, I had sex with Spinda, on and off, for about twelve hours. The next day, I actually unpacked my belongings and put together my new apartment. If you've been paying attention thus far, you can probably imagine what my day one apartment looked like. I had a grand total of eight pieces of furniture; bed, nightstand, and dresser in the bedroom, couch, coffee table, desk and bookshelf in the living room. I also had a dining room table and two chairs, so I suppose that's technically ten. My apartment was sparse, to say the least. In Maryanne, and in most civilized areas, there are more adoption centers than libraries and museums combined. Adoption centers fulfill many roles; obviously, they are adoption centers, but they are also doctor offices, information centers, and training hubs for trainers that need help. There were three adoption centers within a bike ride from my apartment, but I chose the Kitta Neighborhood Adoption Center for a very immoral reason. Kitta allows you to 'check-out' Pokémon, for lack of a better term. Pokémon are creatures worth studying, and if you have a voucher from any educational institution, you can take Pokémon for a period of three days for study. There are many rules about this program. Obviously, you cannot make the Pokémon battle, or re-catch them with your own Pokéball, and the fines for keeping one past the due date are just about astronomical. I applied for a job at a small adoption center near my apartment. I scored 100% on their application exam, something that my adviser noted had never happened, and I received the job the day after. I was hired as the lead medical assistant to the adoption center doctor, Layla. I was fully intent on receiving a voucher, and working at an adoption center was a part of this obsession. It was not easy to receive one, but thankfully, my father being the figure he was, and with me landing a job at a center, I had multiple institutions agree to let me send in a kind of resume. It would take a few weeks to process, but I felt confident. Another thing that I became obsessed with was Poképorn. It was readily available on the internet. Nearly every single known Pokémon had three things in common; they had reproductive organs, they had mouths, and they liked having sex. Therefore, many thousands of people took to recording Pokémon performing sex acts for money. This was a very lucrative way to make money. The majority of Poképhiliac content was homemade. Men rutting their Ponyta or Rapidash in point-of-view camera angles. Women getting their pussies licked by their Poochyena. Men getting their cocks licked by their Delcatties. Easy to record, easy to jerk off to. There was no end to it, truthfully. Once I discovered, around the time I was sixteen, that there was a wealth of porn readily available to me at all times through my personal computer, I went off the deep end. I would download and tag every single video I could get my hands on. I would sit at my desk, scrolling through websites, for hours at a time. I would even get Spinda in on the action, and coerce her into licking and sucking my cock under the desk. Spinda was not a huge fan of blowjobs though, so she mostly defaulted to licking and nuzzling her face under my balls. She would stop when I was about to cum, and let me finish myself on her face. This was awesome. By the time I moved out, I had a good five years worth of video saved on my computer, almost all meticulously tagged and sorted. Spinda is indeed an intelligent creature with wants and needs, and while sometimes she absolutely needed my cock inside her, sometimes she didn't want it, and I always respected her wishes. Despite the clumsy, airheaded demeanor and the spiraling, goofy looking eyes, Spinda was a smart girl and didn't take my shit. On those sorts of days, I would retreat to my computer and take care of myself. Through this treasure trove of Poképhiliac content I'd accumulated, I had decided on a few Pokémon that I needed to fuck, under any circumstance. Note, I say fuck. I make love to Spinda. I fuck other Pokémon. A very important distinction for me. As I sat down on my living room couch, cuddled up against my Spinda, I stared at the wall mountable whiteboard I held in my hand, a blue dry erase marker in the other, with six lines written on it. GOODRA ANOTHER GOODRA ABSOL PIKACHU (DUH) ZEBSTRIKA (MALE) DRAGONAIR I was transfixed on Dragonair. As I wrote the list, I was absolutely sure what I was writing down. Goodra, of fucking course. Have you seen a Goodra? Holy shit. As far as I could tell, Goodra was the only known Pokémon that actually had a defined butt. It deserves two places on my holy grail list. Absol is another obvious one for me. Graceful, lithe, soft, statuesque. Gorgeous creature. I had a large Absol Poképorn folder tucked away, and I was exceedingly excited to add my own adventure to that pile of smut. Pikachu... what can I say? If you've ever heard a Pikachu moan, I imagine you could understand entirely. Plus, I've heard that a good Pikachu orgasm includes some fun tingling feelings for her partner. Zebstrika. Okay, so I can explain. Kind of. I've always had a thing for horse cock. Okay, so this is more difficult to explain than I thought. The short form of it is that I want to rub off a horse. I don't want any penetration on either end, him or me. Just want to play with a big fat horse cock, okay? I'll accept how strange that sounds, as long as you understand that it would just be an experiment, and eventually, it was revealed to indeed be only that. I'll get to that soon. So Dragonair. This was the difficult one, because they are incredibly rare creatures. In all of my searching and hunting, I had come across exactly one video featuring the majestic creature. It was shockingly high quality and featured a young, outrageously well-endowed man getting a gentle blowjob from the dragon Pokémon. Dragonair was perched on the man's legs, her long, soft body coiled around the object of her lust. The miles-long neck of the Pokémon rose and fell, the man's equally long penis disappearing into her mouth, and then back out again. While the video was only a scant few minutes long, it ended with the videographer ejaculating into her mouth, and Dragonair happily swallowed, while her tender, otherworldly moans rang out through my speakers. This video has its own folder, and it was easily my most 'used' video. It also made me vaguely spiteful towards Spinda, but only at a surface level. I wish Spinda would eat my cum too. Zebstrika was easy. I had already contacted a man that owned a farm nearby before I even moved out of my parent's house. He ran a small ring out of his farm, with many Pokémon for rent. Tauros, Miltanks, Mareeps, the usual, but he also had a few Zebstrika's available. That would be my first conquest. Pikachu was a little bit more difficult, but very doable. Pikachu was a very popular Pokémon, and many people bred them. The downside of this was that most Pikachu were spoken for, but with time, I did hunt one down that was for 'sale'. Once again, I will document this here, but not for a small while. Absol was around the same level of difficulty as Pikachu, but for different reasons. Absol was less generally popular than Pikachu, but Absol owners were cultish. That being said, I would eventually hunt down an owner that would willingly turn their eye - for a price. Goodra was hard. Very hard. The gooey vixens were in crazy high demand, as they were rare, hard to breed, and easy to love. My stupid obsession with having two of them to myself was another wrench in the plan, but yet again, I would manage to get my way, with a twist. Lastly, Dragonair. The dragon Pokémon were about as close to legendary as any Pokémon could be, besides maybe a Dragonite. I had managed to track down a half dozen owners, but all of them were clearly not going to be open to letting me cum down their prized possession's throat. Up until recently, I thought it was a lost cause, and that damn name stayed clear and un-crossed-out, but I may have a real lead on one. That will be my crown jewel. My ultimate conquest. However, I'm done rambling about the list. Back to the past. My job at Kitta was truly wonderful. I know I come off as a slight sociopath in my musings, but I get along well with people. I'm attractive, and well-liked. Within a week of working there, I had made friends with everybody, even my direct superior, Layla. Layla meticulously presented herself as a strict woman. She was short, probably in the neighborhood of five feet tall, with soft, cute features. Her hazel eyes were guarded by thin, steel glasses. Her hair was curly and jet black and was almost always in a loose ponytail. She was a beautiful woman, even in her mid-thirties. Her chest was large, and her round ass swayed behind her at all times. The correct terminology would be 'stacked'. It took some doing, but I managed to train my brain to ignore her more seductive features and look at her as purely my boss. Thankfully, her personality made that easier. She wasn't mean, or rude, by any means, just straightforward and short. While her demeanor was generally harsh, she softened up to me after she realized how knowledgeable I was about Pokémon medicine. One day, when we were chit-chatting, I let my father's identity slip. "My dad actually reports on battles for the national news," I absentmindedly said when she mentioned a Pokémon that was injured in a battle being brought in earlier. I have no idea why I mentioned it. I guess I was just excited that Layla was making small talk. "Your father is Mitchell Bolina?" Layla asked, looking up from a chart she was going over. I did not look away from mine. "Yes," I replied, smiling, "has been my entire life." "Fun," Layla said, a hint of amusement in her usually flat tone, "the son of a famous news reporter." "Hardly. You'd never know it if you met him." "I'm sure. That does explain a lot about you," Layla said, and I did look up then. "Oh yeah?" "Your dad is one of the most knowledgeable people in the entire field of Pokémon. There are Professors that would blush at his Pokédex. Unlike most battle reporters, your dad actually knows what the hell he's talking about." Layla said, her tone back to being flat as a piece of sheet metal. "Huh," I replied, going back to my chart and filling in a field, "you sure know a lot about my dad," I said with a light sarcastic tone. "Not any more than my colleagues," Layla said. The cute little connection was over, and it was back to business, "and are you finished with that chart?" The other person I spent my time with at work was Claire. Claire was the lead Pokémon handler for Kitta and was amazing at her job. She was even more intimidating than Layla, at times. She was taller than Layla, but still shorter than me, and had a much more athletic build than her as well. She had short, straight brown hair, and her face was dotted with freckles. I didn't find her as sexual as I found Layla, but she was no slouch. While Layla had a 'sexy professor' thing going for her, Claire had a 'cute tomboy farmgirl' thing for herself. She had that quality that some people have, where her face always tells you that she's thoroughly joyful. Her eyes constantly sparkle with happiness. Even though she was only a few years older than me, she had found her place in the world, and she was ecstatic to go to work in the morning. She and I got along well. We constantly teased each other, but it was nothing more than teasing. We were actually friends, and like me, Claire's heart was for Pokémon. Just in a significantly more innocent way. "You have a Spinda?!" Claire exclaimed one day, as we sat on the edge of the Pokémon enclosure and watched the groups of creatures play. "Yeah," I replied with a light, genuine giggle at her exclamation. "Spinda's are so cute!" She continued, beaming. "Did you know -," "That every Spinda has a different spot pattern?" I interrupted, and Claire frowned, her eyes narrowing at me. "Well, yeah, everybody knows that, dummy," Claire replied, her frown mocking me, "I was gonna say, 'Did you know Spinda's have a weak gag reflex, and that's why you aren't supposed to feed them large Pokéblocks?'" My breathing hitched, and the shock was obviously apparent on my face because Claire started giggling like mad. How the hell didn't I know that? More importantly, what prompted her to say it? Did she suspect something? "See, Mr. Encyclopedia, even lowly caregivers might know more than you." "You're cute," I replied, trying to calm my heart rate a little. "Right back atchya, doc," That explained a lot regarding Spinda's distaste of blowjobs. Furthermore, I stopped feeding Spinda medium size Pokéblocks that night and started springing the extra money for small ones. Thanks, Claire. My job at Kitta was surprisingly straightforward. Layla did almost everything, and I just helped. If she needed new gloves, I handed them to her. If she needed something from a high cabinet, I was her guy. If we had a rowdy Electrike that wasn't a fan of needles, I held them down while Layla would give them their vaccinations. I handled the bulk of the paperwork, which could be rough on busy days. I was an assistant, through and through, and it was great. Less than two weeks after I began my job, I received my study voucher from the Pokémon Learning Institute. On that same day, I received another package in the mail. Another interesting thing about the internet is that you can buy products that you cannot buy at a normal store. Not necessarily things that are illegal, but more like stuff that's regulated in my city. Stuff like HeatX. We'll get to that. That day, I spent my lunch break in Claire's enclosure, surveying the Pokémon that were up for adoption. Kitta wasn't the biggest center in Maryanne, but it had a fair amount of variety regarding the Pokémon up for adoption. The water facility was remarkably capable, and the general enclosure had more zones than most centers have in total. I was watching the Pokémon frolic, herds of Mareep, murders of Murcrow, but I had my eyes on one in particular. I walked into the enclosure and grabbed one of the Pokéballs near the door, making my way towards the small pond near the back corner of the enclosure. The various Pokémon noticed me and started eyeing me, wondering if I was there to feed them or bring them to a potential family. A Linoone wiggled up to me and smelled me. He looked up and said, "Linoone?" I bent down and stroked his fur to satiate his craving for attention. He smiled at me and made his way down the path ahead of me. I arrived at the small pond soon after and crouched down next to the Pokémon I was eyeing. The Pokémon was interesting, to say the least. She floated above the ground, in the heat of the sun near the pond, a small pair of leaves sticking out of the top of her were twirling lazily. She was barely larger than my fist, colored yellow After a few seconds, she realized that someone had approached her, and her eyes opened slowly and located me. She looked at me expectantly. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was terrified. My hand was shaking as I pressed the smooth button on the Pokéball, and in a flash of red light, Sunkern was captured.
Sam, the man in charge of checking out study subjects, did not bat an eye when I handed him the check-out form at the end of the day. Sam was actually in charge of virtually anything involving forms, and he processed dozens of them every day. He was an older man, in his fifties, and he was clearly tired now that the workday was nearly over. "What is the reason for the check-out?" Sam asked, his tone flat. "I'm planning on evolving her. I've never seen an evolution in person, and I feel like it will help my understanding of Pokémon in general to see one," I replied, mentally reading a teleprompter in my head. Sam glanced up at me and leaned over to the cabinet next to him. "That was about twenty words too many," Sam muttered, leaning back into place on his office chair and placing a piece of paper on the counter, "please fill this form out." I did so. "Thanks," Sam said, taking the paper and slamming a rubber stamp on it. He handed the small pile of papers back to me and nodded. "Thanks, Sam," I said, picking them up and turning around. Sam merely nodded. My heart was pounding as I left the center.
I'm sorry about the formatting. This website is a nightmare. New chapter is already in the works, should be a few weeks.