Alex, a catcher of bitches

My name is Alex, and as I stepped out into the vibrant, sun-drenched streets of Cerulean City, I felt like a god with a new toy. The air buzzed with the familiar energy of a thriving Pokémon hub—the distant cry of a Pidgeotto, the cheerful chatter of trainers showing off their newest partners, and the omnipresent hum of the Pokécenter nearby. But today, it all felt like background noise. My focus was singular, my senses heightened by the cool, metallic sphere nestled in my jacket pocket.

This wasn't about battling for gym badges or filling out a Pokédex.

This was about a far more satisfying kind of collection.

I found a comfortable spot on a bench near the city's famous flower clock, pretending to be absorbed in my phone while my eyes scanned the crowd.

It didn't take long to spot her.

She was a vision of bubblegum sweetness and accidental allure, a perfect first subject for my experiment. Her name, I would later learn, was Chloe, and she was everything I found irresistible. She had a mane of impossibly blonde hair, tied up in two high pigtails that bounced with every enthusiastic step she took. Her face was round and cute, dotted with a light spray of freckles across a button nose, and her wide, sapphire-blue eyes held a genuine, almost childlike wonder at the world around her.

She wore a short, pastel-pink sundress that fluttered around her thighs, cinched at the waist with a white ribbon that emphasized a surprisingly curvy figure. The dress's thin straps did little to hide the fact she wasn't wearing a bra, and the gentle jiggle of her ample, perky breasts with each movement was a hypnotic sight. Her legs were long and toned, tanned a golden brown and ending in a pair of simple white sneakers.

She was the very picture of approachable, sun-kissed innocence, the kind of girl who probably still believed in true love and that Team Rocket just needed a hug.

She was so naïve she was practically begging to be taken advantage of, and I was more than happy to oblige.

Chloe was completely engrossed in cooing over a litter of Eevee that a breeder was showing off nearby. She knelt down, her dress riding up just enough to give a tantalizing glimpse of the curve of her ass, her voice a melodic stream of "Oh, you're just the cutest little thing! Yes, you are!" as she scratched one behind the ears.

It was pathetic, really, but in the most endearing way. She wasn't just sexy; she was adorably, cluelessly sexy. She had no idea how the simple act of existing was a form of teasing, no concept of the effect she had on the people around her. She was a rare, shiny Pokémon, blissfully unaware of the trainer with a new kind of pokéball lurking just feet away.

I watched her for nearly an hour, learning her rhythms. She bought a rainbow-colored ice cream cone from a vendor and managed to get a smear of it on her nose, which she wiped away with the back of her hand, laughing at her own clumsiness. She stopped to help a little boy who had dropped his toy Pokéball, retrieving it from under a bench with a smile that could probably tame a Gyarados.

Every action reinforced my assessment: she was good, she was pure, and she was completely unprepared for someone like me.

Finally, my opportunity arrived. Chloe finished her ice cream, crumpled the napkin, and looked around for a trash can. Spotting one near a slightly more secluded alleyway between a potion shop and a boutique, she headed in that direction. My heart began to pound, a rhythmic drum of anticipation.

This was it. The moment of truth. The ultimate test if my ingenius design actually worked.

I casually stood up, stretching as if I'd been sitting for too long, and began to follow her, keeping a casual distance. She skipped the last few steps to the bin, tossed her napkin, and turned to head back towards the main square.

Our paths were about to intersect perfectly. As she stepped out of the alley's mouth, I was right there.

"Oh, excuse me!" I said, putting on my most charming, slightly flustered expression. I feigned a trip, stumbling forward just enough to make her stop and put her hands up in surprise.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" she asked, her voice full of genuine concern. Her eyes were even more captivating up close, wide and trusting.

"Fine, fine, just a bit clumsy," I laughed, waving a hand dismissively. My other hand, however, was already in my pocket, my fingers wrapping around the smooth, cool surface of my custom pokéball. "I think I was just distracted by… well, by you. You have a really great aura."

A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and she giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, thank you! That's so sweet of you to say."

"It's the truth," I said, taking a half-step closer. I could smell the faint scent of strawberries from her shampoo. "I'm Alex, by the way."

"Chloe," she replied, her smile unwavering. "It's nice to meet you, Alex."

"The pleasure is all mine, Chloe," I said, my voice dropping to a low, confident murmur.

Her naivete was so thick I could practically taste it. She had no inkling of the predator standing before her. She saw a charming, slightly awkward boy. I saw a beautiful, rare specimen ready for capture. "You know," I continued, my hand tightening on the pokéball, "I have a feeling we're going to be very, very good friends."

Before she could process the strange weight in my words, I acted. In one smooth, practiced motion, I pulled the modified pokéball from my pocket. Her eyes widened in confusion, her brow furrowing. "Is that… a new kind of Premier Ball? It's so shiny…"

"It's something special," I said, and with a flick of my wrist, I launched it.

The sphere sailed through the air in a perfect arc, not towards a wild Rattata or a stubborn Mankey, but straight for her chest. Chloe let out a tiny, surprised gasp, her hands flying up as if to catch it like a volleyball. She had no idea what was happening. The ball made contact with the soft fabric of her pink dress, right over her heart. There was no violent impact, no struggle. Instead, the ball snapped open in a flash of brilliant, crimson light that enveloped her completely. Her form—her bouncing pigtails, her wide, shocked eyes, her curvy body—dissolved into a stream of pure red energy that was instantly sucked into the waiting sphere.

The pokéball snapped shut with a satisfying click.

It fell to the pavement, wobbling slightly, the central button glowing with a faint, pulsating red light. Once. Twice. On the third wobble, the light died with a soft ding, and the ball lay still, silent and inert on the ground.

I walked over and picked it up.

It felt warm to the touch, and impossibly heavy with the weight of the person I had just captured. I held it up to the sunlight, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. Inside this small, unassuming object was Chloe, the bubbly, beautiful, and utterly clueless girl I had just met.

She was my first catch.

My very own human Pokémon. And I couldn't wait to see what she could do.