PMU Sidestory #2: Abra Skadoo

Sable and Rose were already waiting for me at the bus stop when I arrived. Sable's lopsided grin and Rose's infectious laugh never failed to make me feel at home. I took a deep breath of air and joined them.

"Hey, Mia," Sable said, wrapping an arm around me. "You ready for a night of magic?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, absolutely. I can't wait to see a rabbit pulled out of a hat."

Rose snickered. "You never know, Mia. This is supposed to be an adult magic show. We might just see something unexpected."

Sable chuckled. “Yeah, I heard this one is the real deal.”

“Adult magic show. Like those adult cartoons you’re into?” I teased.

“Hey. It’s called anime, and it’s an art form,” Sable protested defensively.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” I reached up and ruffled his head. Sable might have been two years older than me and my trainer, but I’d always thought of him more like a little brother. We had one of the more relaxed relationships among trainer and pokegirl, as far as I know. Rose—the only thing stopping her from passing her extra big boobs and those fuzzy bunny ears on top of her head—and I were technically members of his harem, but I still lived on my own, and Rose was more like his girlfriend than a pet. Every week or so, we’d hang out at some venue, then it was back to his place for a night of fun.

It was Sable’s turn to pick, and tonight, he’d chosen to take us to see the Mysterious and Magnificent Magnus.

I know, right? But trust me. He’s still a cool guy. He’s just a real dork too.

We chatted idly as we waited for the bus, catching up on our daily lives. The mundane had a way of knitting us closer together. In a city like this, things seemed to never change. And I liked it that way.

Once the bus arrived, we climbed on and found three seats next to each other. As we settled in, I gazed out the window at the streets I'd known my whole life. The shops and houses blurred into a warm quilt of familiarity. That gas station I always went to. The mall. A nice-looking park. It was a good neighborhood.

"So, Rose, how's that new project of yours going?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"It's going well. We're in the final stages, so it's all about polishing now," she replied, her eyes lighting up as she spoke about her work designing costumes for some stage production. “I think you’d look lovely in the dress!”

Sable chimed in, "You should see her at her station, Mia. She gets so focused, it's like the world doesn't exist."

"I believe it," I said, grinning at Rose. "That's what makes her so good at what she does. But no way in hell I’d be caught dead in one of those outfits."

Rose might like dressing like a slut—no offense—but I had a reputation to uphold. Sure, I might not turn heads the way Rose did with her breasts always nearly falling out of that tube top, but I liked to think I was channeling that goth biker bitch vibe real good. A far cry from the waif-y, princess-y gardevoirs you always saw on television at least.

We kept talking; the conversation flowed easily, and before we knew it, we had arrived at our stop. Stepping off the bus, the neon lights of the nightclub welcomed us into a world of mystery and intrigue. The sign outside the entrance announced, "An Evening of Enchantment."

We walked up to the door, and I couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement, despite my earlier sarcasm. The doorman checked our IDs and waved us through.

"Ready for some magic?" Sable asked, squeezing my hand.

"Let's see if they can surprise me," I replied, smirking.

"Three of clubs!" I called out from the back, leaning one arm over the back of my chair. My black jacket hung unzipped around my shoulders, showing off a tight band t-shirt ripped in the front to let my chest-spike through, tight jean-shorts straining around my thighs, a heavy boot up on the edge of my chair.

Sure, it might be a bit much to pick on a guy like this. But card tricks? Really? We lived in a world with real magic, and this guy’s sleight of hand wasn’t even impressive.

So I’m a bit of a bitch tonight. The crowd was with me on this; the “Magnificent Magnus” was bombing. Sure, it’s kind of embarrassing, but not nearly as bad as the shared embarrassment of everyone here who paid money to see this amateur.

"C'mon, it's dead silent up there. Not even a flicker of real power," I added, leaning forward. "You think this is what psychics can do? I was the star of the Psychics in my classes back at PMU! I made one of the teachers cry from how beautiful the light flowing through my ice castle illusion was! I bench-pressed a small car without touching it! I can't believe people are gonna associate me with this kind of trash these days."

“Well, did I get it?” I egged him on. Of course it’s the three of clubs in the hand of his “lovely” volunteer. One little peek into her mind was enough to tell me that. What was he gonna do? Figure it with math or something? Boring! I took another sip of my berry-juice. "How 'bout you show us a real trick? Something that isn't gonna make people walk up to me and ask if I can turn some cardboard sideways for 'em."

"Uh... sorry..." The busty, blonde volunteer said, unsure if she should still reveal the card. Her voice was quiet, but I was still touching inside her head enough to make it out. "I think she might be a little drunk. Or just... you know... rude?"

The portly man with the twirling mustache only grinned back at her. He spoke up loudly, his voice carrying easily to the back of the room. "Nothing to apologize for, my dear. It's not my first time dealing with troublemakers."

"Usually, it's because they crave attention, and the best solution I've found is to use that for the act. A win-win!" He looked over towards my table, locking eyes with me. "What do you say, madam? Are you brave enough to join the Mysterious and Magnificent Magnus on stage?"

<Goddamn, can’t wait to get her out of those clothes and put her in her place.>

For a psychic as powerful as me, such surface thoughts were impossible not to read, a torrent of lust and condescension completely at odds with his affable persona. Gross. I pulled back my powers; reading a disgusting mind like his would give me nausea.

I eyed the crowd with a smirk to see who appreciated my outburst even though I could feel Sable and Rose both glaring at me. They didn’t like it when I caused a scene, but hey. What can you do? If nothing else, I bet this would make for a good story. Never went on stage at a magic show before.

"Y'know what? That's the first interesting thing you've said all night."

Knocking back my glass of berry-juice, I casually hooked a thumb into the pocket of my shorts, standing up and striding up to the stairs. Not the first time I’d been on a stage, but the less said about my aspiring rocker days, the better. Reflexively, I held out a hand. "Mia Rivers, Psychic. Subtype, Gardevoir. Pleasure," I said, not trying to hide the smugness in my voice.

"The pleasure is all mine, dear." The magician said with a sweeping bow, flourishing his cape. "Everyone, a round of applause for our brave volunteer and harshest critic."

There was a smattering of claps, but people were paying attention. Either he was gonna turn heads or this would be a total disaster. Either way, well worth watching.."Well then, Mia. As a Psychic, I'm sure you have always been on top of things. Telepathy. Clairvoyance. Foresight. It's not easy giving such a powerful mind a shock. But I do have my methods."

He grabbed the latch on the front of his cape, unhooking it and releasing it, flapping it in the air briefly before holding it out like a matador in both hands, though rather than holding it to the side, he had his arms straight out in front of him. "For our first trick, if you’d be so kind, please step behind this curtain, my dear."

Of course, with his belly, it was going to be a tight squeeze to fit behind the cape without being backed up against him, and under the bright lights, his hairy arms already had a healthy sheen of sweat.

But… well, I couldn't back down now without everyone seeing it. Might as well, right? "Y...yeah, all right." There were worse things than being pressed up against a human guy, even if it was his belly pressing into my back. I ducked under his arm, back-fin jabbing lightly into his front, chest-spike jutting out into the curtain... and my snug shorts were pressed up closer to him than I would have liked.

"Er, what's the trick?" I asked, glancing back at him now that his arms were already around my shoulders. It was hard not to notice just how much bigger he was than me. He must have been at least six feet tall, because I didn’t even come up to his shoulders. Sure, I could toss him over the horizon if I felt like it, but it was hard to remember that when he was so close I could feel his body heat. And Sable had mentioned this was an ‘adult’ magic show too… but surely he couldn’t try anything too weird, right? Not with a crowd watching.

"Quite simple, my dear. It's a vanishing act. I shall hide you behind this curtain." He demonstrated, lifting the cape up over my head, putting it between me and the audience. Since I was more than a foot shorter than him, even then the cape was touching the stage, if only barely. "Recite the magic words. And then, magically, you shall be transported right back to your seat. Hopefully, with a newfound appreciation for the arcane arts."

Teleportation, huh? That was a high-level Move. One I’d never been able to do myself. Was he some kind of trainer? No… he looked like a schlub. Not to mention, where were his pokegirls?

"Now then, everyone. Watch closely. A one... a two..." He lifted the cape up and down, blocking my view of the crowd in between each count, before holding it up steadily. "...abra skadoo... disappear!"

With a flourish, he drew back the cape... and nothing had happened. I was still right there in the same spot. And I hadn’t sensed a bit of psychic energy from this guy!

I folded my arms and turned towards him, backing away now that the cape wasn’t in my way. “Some trick. I knew you were an amateur from the—”

And then the audience started laughing and clapping, more enthusiastic than they'd been all night.

"Oh dear. Seems to have glitched. I wonder... young lady in the back. Check our brave volunteer's seat. Do you see anything there?" Magnus called out.

What was he going on about?

"Ehehe~!" Rather than answer, Rose just raised up both her arms and started waving... My shorts in one hand, lowleg panties in the other.

Immediately, I turned back to face the crowd, both hands diving between my legs to try and hide my private bits. I could feel the blush on my cheeks forming, so hot that my orange chest-spike was starting to glow too. Damn empathic nature, I could feel the amusement and lust of every creep in this place!

"Wh...what kind of trick is that?!" I stammered out. I was frozen. Bad enough I’d mooned the whole dang crowd, but my seat was all the way in the back of the club. Damn it! I was supposed to be the hot goth biker bitch tonight, not the blushing, stuttering mess.

"O-okay, I don't know how you did that, but... but I didn't feel a thing from you!" I straightened up as best I could, still holding a hand between my thighs. "So what, you... you got an Espeon ready to Teleport for ya under the stage, or somethin'?”

"A good guess. But not quite. You see, my dear, it's…” The allegedly magnificent Magnus spread out his hands, tossing glitter everywhere. “Magic!”

“Now..." He turned me around to face the crowd again, then gave my bare ass a good, hard slap, his hand sticking there with a tight grip.

“Gard!” I squeaked out, my hands reaching back to try and pull him away, before realizing I was leaving myself uncovered in the front. Jerk! I oughta toss him through the wall for that… but if I used my powers on a regular human, then it’d be Sable who got in trouble.

He gave it one more squeeze before letting go.. "...I think you've been suitably chastened for your earlier behavior, but this is only enough to make us even. How about we try the same trick again? Now that you know what's coming, you should be able to spot the gimmick. Well... if you're clever enough, that is."

"Y...yeah, all right! I'll unravel your trick for ya, right on stage," I shot back, glaring over my shoulder. Embarrassing was nothing, if I could crush his career! Besides, I... I hadn't been focused. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to sense out, looking for another psychic around—that had to be it, right? He had someone else helping... Ugh, no good. Even if there wasn’t that blinding spotlight shining on my bottomless self, I was the center of attention right now. Too many voices to even pick up his thoughts, let alone some Psychic pokégirl trying to keep herself hidden.

"Good. Nothing gets the blood pumping like a good challenge!" As he held up the cape, he gathered it up in his hands, rolling it up so that it hung down only a foot or so, enough to cover my shoulders and chest. "Don't want to deprive the audience of a view. And this way, it'll be that much easier. You know exactly what I'm aiming for, right?"

Bad enough he’d stripped me down below. I was not going to do the walk of shame back to my seat completely naked!

"Ah, ah. Both hands between your legs. Because if you were to spare an arm to cover your chest, well... that'd just make it obvious to everyone you were expecting the trick to work. For you to be too stupid to figure it out. Isn't that right?"

My breath caught in her throat..He was right. And my arm had been starting to lift to protect myself. Reluctantly, I lowered it back down.

"One... two..."

I wasn’t going to flash the audience. I was going to pay attention and figure this trick out. He wasn’t going to catch me by surprise this time!

"Abra Skadoo!"

Dramatically, Magnus pulled away the cape, revealing... my chest, still snugly covered in my black t-shirt, with a hole in the middle showing off hints of what little cleavage my… “sleek” frame had.

I let out a big sigh of relief. “Hah! You messed up!”

The crowd was a mix of confusion and disappointment... until someone in the audience finally noticed what was wrong.

"Mia... your chest spike!" Was that Sable’s voice? He was pointing, and…

It was gone, nothing but smooth, pale skin left behind, front and back. And with it, so too was my connection to my psychic powers, leaving me even more helpless than a human of my size.

The entire crowd was shocked... and then started applauding twice as vigorously as last time.

"D-dev?!" I clutched at my chest, bare skin against my palm—bare skin?! "Wh-what, how did you even—" I stammered, turning sideways and realizing too late that I'd just flashed the curve of my ass, let everyone see the faint-orange handprint his slap had left.

I swallowed hard, staring up at him, trying to summon up even the tiniest read of his mind, or at least rustle his cloak or... or something...!

"Th...that's not... that shouldn't even be possible, I can't feel... anything, now..." But I couldn't go back down now! "Y-you're gonna put that back, right? I'm not leaving here without my powers!" I added, pointing dramatically at him. I bet I looked real threatening, all 4’9 of me, finger in his face.

...And with my other hand still trapped between my thighs, barely hiding anything at all.

"Oh dear. Looks like I might have made a mistake. I only intended to have you flash those tiny little tits of yours, not strip you of the biggest part of your core identity, Miss Ex-Psychic. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," Magnus said with mock concern.

"Not to worry though," he said, rubbing the top of my head, scratching lightly behind my earfin. "Putting it back will be twice as easy as taking it off. Though, I suppose if we want to be certain, we'll need you to make sure there isn't any interference."

I gulped. “Interference?”

"So if you would be so kind, Mia, remove that shirt. Then stand very still, hands at your hips. Then I'll bring your precious spike back. Promise."

I glanced sideways, looking out over the crowd. What was Sable doing!? I knew he wasn’t much for traditional Trainer roles, but how could he just sit back and watch this bastard treat me like this? Ugh! And why did this guy’s hand on my head feel so damn good? I was NOT enjoying this!

"F...fine!" I agreed, pulling my shirt off—easier than it had ever been before, without that fin in the way—and peeling my hands away from hiding myself. All that bare pale pokegirl skin was on display, my fingers nervously balled up beside my thighs, head tilted up, eyes shut, and chin lifted proud. I could do this. I could do this.

I let out a little moan. My psychic powers were gone, but somehow I could still feel the lust of the crowd rolling over me as they stared at my petite chest. God… I couldn’t stop shaking!

"G...get to work already, then!"

"Mmm... even smaller than I was expecting." He mumbled under his breath. Well, mumbled into his mic with perfect enunciation, the way those on stage would do, stirring up some light laughter from the audience.

"My Gallade has bigger titties than that!" someone called out, getting more laughs at my expense.

My forearm twitched, almost giving in to the urge to just cover everything and curl up in a blush-soaked mess—but I forced myself to stand while his palm brushed over my chest. I wasn't completely flat! But... admittedly, there was only enough to cup, to feel a little squish, nothing like the ways everyone drooled over girls like Rose.

"Now, now. A gardevoir doesn't need big cowtits. There are plenty of other, sexier pokegirls for that." Standing behind me, Magnus cupped one hand over my chest and squeezed, giving my nipple a sharp pinch. "I think they're perfect, just the way they are. I wouldn't change a thing."

I gasped sharply, that pinch snapping me back to the stage, to seeing the smug grins and laughs, the gazes soaking up every curve of my body, everything that had only ever been for my trainer, all so they could laugh at my pathetic chest.. I didn't even have the chest-fin to make my cleavage look deeper than it was anymore. "I... I don't need big tits to be the hottest girl you've ever met..." I stammered. I used that line all the time flirting with Sable. But saying it to a jeering and leering crowd? I could die of embarrassment. My confidence was crumbling. No, it was dripping down my thighs. Fuck. Stupid pokégirl instincts!

"But let's see if we can't fix this..." He held his rolled up cape over my chest once more.

It'd be over, right? He'd said he'd give me my chestfin back, and then I could just... sprint out of here, naked and blushing radiant orange, that'd be good enough, just... please...

"One, two... abra skadoo!"

This time, as he pulled the cape away, the audience started howling, with several letting out wolf whistles. The change this time was immediately obvious to everyone, especially me–I near fell straight on my face, a new weight suddenly pulling me off balance.

“Whuh whuh whoa!” My arms flailed around like pinwheels, but just before I lost my balance, Magnus caught me. With both hands squeezing down on my chest. My new chest.

It wasn't the spike he'd returned. Instead... it was tits. Two great, big titties, each nipple somehow managing to point slightly upwards in spite of them being so big my shirt would need to be cut into a tabard to fit over them now… and there’d still be plenty of sideboob.

"Oh dear. Looks like I made a slight mistake there. What with the sorry state of your chest on everyone's mind, I seemed to have given you what you most deeply wished for. A nice, fat pair of cow tits." Even his burly hand wasn't big enough to completely cover them, something he made abundantly clear as he took a big handful and squeezed, fingers sinking into them like fresh dough.

I let out a sharp gasp and—I’m not proud to admit it—a needy moan, eyes fluttering half-shut with the pain and stimulation. I’d never moaned like that. Sable had never made me… moan like that. Was it the new boobs? Were all girls with funbags like these so… so vulnerable?

As good as it felt—not that I’d ever admit it felt good!—It hurt so much! Not just the pressure, but a burning sensation on my nipple, like he'd lit it on fire. Hotter and hotter until something burst. Thick, yellow colostrum was forced from my nipples, followed by an erratic spray of fresh breast milk.

"Oh ho. Cow tits indeed."

That other tit settled down and jostled to the side, a noticeable steady slow drip leaking out from a thick nipple to match.

"Nnfgh, aaahhh!" My back arched, legs giving out as I leaned back against him for a moment, nearly overwhelmed by the new sensation through my stretched, heavy tits, leaving them thudding together with a heavy smack. "Th...that's not..." I shakily forced myself to turn, but even turning my back to the audience, they could still see the fat tits peeking out around my arm.

"C-come on! This isn't what you promised at all!" Surely I could get the audience on my side, to tell him off and make him fix this, right...?!

"Do the ass next!" Rose called out from her seat.

"Mia..." Sable was bright red but couldn't look away.

"I wanna taste that milk!"

"Serves her right, so uppity when she's just a dumb pokeslut!"

"How much for a paizuri?"

“Man, I’m telling you, this is all just part of the show. She’s totally a plant!”

“You’re thinking of tsareena. They have purple coloring on the skin.”

The rest of the crowd seemed to be very much lacking in sympathy.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please! Ahem. Calm your tits." Magnus proclaimed boldly, then looked back down at me. "My apologies, Mia. I tell you, it shall not happen again. Just one more time, and then I promise you'll be fully restored. And I'll tell you what. You can keep the new chest for no extra charge. You do want to keep them, don't you?" He tugged on the nipple, lifting the breast up in front of my face, pressing it briefly against my mouth before he let go and let the tit bounce like pudding until it settled.

God, yes. I’d always wanted big fucking cow tits like this. I was always so jealous of Rose. I just wanted to flaunt these everywhere I went, dressed in the sluttiest, most revealing, most whorish outfits I could—

"N-no, I don't want to keep a bust so heavy that I can barely even stand upright!" I protested, trying to cross my arms under my new tits and barely even managing when they spilled out over my arms so easily, not even restrained by my upper arms. Fuck. They were so damn big!

"No? No...?" Magnus breathed in deeply, shook his head slowly, then let out a theatrical sigh. "No, she says! As if pokesluts without mosquito bites everywhere wouldn't sell their left arm for funbags of that size! My lady, I think I've been more than indulgent with your intolerable behavior to this point, but I'm afraid this is where I draw the line."

I bit down on my lower lip, but that wasn’t enough to suppress the moan that came out. This guy was a total creep. He was objectifying and downright sexually assaulting me in front of a live audience. So why did it feel so much better than anything I’d done with Sable?

"C-come on! Put my body back to normal...!"

"What do you think, everyone?" His voice boomed out to the crowd. "Should I give her back her spike, take away those tits, and send her on her way?"

"No!" The single word came out in a shouted unison so clearly it was like it'd been rehearsed.

"I agree! Then... how about... Miss Mia here squats her ass down, spreads her legs wide, raises up her cute little paws... and begs me to give her back the spike."

"Yeah!"

"Yes!"

"Fuck yes!"

It was a cacophony of agreement this time, roaring and jeering, the crowd full of grins leering shamelessly at my new bust.

"Well, you heard them, dear." Magnus gave my ass another slap, a handprint to match the other, fading one. "And make it good, or I'll send you back to your seat just like this."

This time he wasn’t there to catch me, so I stumbled forward, nearly falling off the stage. That slap sent my new titties swinging everywhere, like they had a mind of their own. This had gone from bad to worse. I need to get this over with, even if that meant… doing that thing he said.

I had to do it. Everyone would think I was nothing but a brainless nympho pokegirl if I kept tits like this. And I needed my spike back. What good was a pokegirl without powers? I’d never even heard of such a thing!

Slowly, I crouched down beside him, spreading my thighs to make it into a proper squat, showing off my bare folds, the little smooth crease with just a little bit of puffiness around it that most gardevoir girls had... and I lifted up my arms, hands bent over like paws, spread wide to either side around massive tits. Even crushing them together as hard as I could, I was definitely way too weak for it to make a difference... "Nnfh, I... I'm sorry I mocked you, I should've stayed... quiet. You're clearly... way more powerful than me, I'm... pathetic compared to you, and I sh... should've known my... place."

No, no, no… I could feel the juices dripping from my cunt. Could they see it? They could definitely see it!

I swallowed hard, finally looking up at him. "Will you... give me back my chestspike, please...?"

"Good girl.” Fuck! I almost came! “Now... stay just like that. Don't move."

Once more, he took out his cape, then draped it over my body, my thighs sticking out from either side.

"Everyone, say it with me..."

"One!" Magnus gave the cape a flap.

"Two!" The audience roared at me.

"Abra Skadoo!"

As he pulled his cape away, there was an immediate stabbing pain in my chest, a familiar fullness in that void right next to my heart, and a rush of psychic awareness as I felt my powers return. He'd made good on his word.

...or so it seemed at first. But glancing down, it wasn’t my chest spike that was impaling me. This was something else entirely.

For one, it was purple, not orange. For two, rather than protruding outwards and tapering to a sharp point, this one pushed out only three or four inches and had a curved shape to it that pointed upwards, like half of a stylized heart.

"There you are, dear. Your chest spike. New and improved, I might add. While we've been having fun putting on the show, my lovely assistants backstage have been hard at work getting it ready for you. Filing it down. Imbuing it with slave magic. And look," He grabbed my chest and pulled both tits away, revealing a small barcode that had been embedded on the bottom of the new “spike”. "They even Registered you as my property."

I didn't believe it until I ran my finger up the underside, feeling the little grooves worn into the bottom to form the bar code... and even then, just trying to stand up and glare at him felt so much harder when my heaving bust swayed the whole time, nearly knocking me over, dragging my attention back to my chest every time I moved—and it did nothing to get his hands off my heavy, full, plump cow tits.

"That... I never agreed to that, y-you can't seriously expect me to just go along with that! I'd never let some random human turn me into property! That’s not how this works! I… I already have a trainer! Sable! T-tell him he can’t do this to me!"

The spotlight lit up my table. Sable was leaning back into his seat, a pained look on his face. The kind of look he had when he was trying to not cum right away. And Rose… that bitch must be under the table.

“Fuck… s-sorry, Mia!”

Sorry!? Another man, not even a trainer, was trying to claim me as his property, and he was too busy getting his dick sucked watching the thing to help!?

Was this even really happening? It had to be a dream, right? None of this made any sense.

But the proof was already there on my body, as if I'd been awake the whole time while someone went at it with a file... and how could I prove it, claim he did it with magic...? "Wh-what do you even mean, slave magic? That's... ridiculous, that doesn't mean anything!"

"Well, it could be that they went at it with some purple spraycans and then gave it a glossy finish..." Some chuckles from the crowd, so riled up now they were hanging on his every word. "Or... it could be a physical manifestation of your love and devotion to your new Master. Your slave cunt dripping so wet your body changes to match the subby slut inside. That you want to serve your new Master—" He turned to the crowd, covered his mouth, and stage whispered, "That's me, by the way, folks." then turned back to me and continued, "And it’s seeped into the very core of your spike, and that love and devotion is spreading through your blood with every beat of your heart."

"Of course, if you really were under the effects of slave magic, there’d be side effects. So much love and devotion that there really isn't much room for other things. They say the first thing to go is names. So why don't we test that theory." He grabbed my shoulders and faced me out towards the audience. "Those friends at your table... you do remember their names, right?"

I furrowed her brow, looking almost insulted that he'd ask something so obvious—I'd had to give up casually crossing my arms when it squished my tits so much, settling for just wringing my wrists... "That's ridiculous, we've been friends since PMU, that's..."

The guy with the blonde hair. We were just talking. I was going to kill him after I got offstage. He was…

"That's, uh..."

Whoever he was, seeing me forget his name must have pushed him over the edge, because I could hear… whoever she was… choking on his cum from all the way over here.

My eyes went wide, nervousness creeping into my face, my earfins fanning out wide. "It's... I... I've just gotten my body turned different and my chestfin filed down, my... my brain's a little fuzzy, that's all!" I sounded more like I was trying to convince myself more than anyone else.

"Besides, I'd never think of some human even higher than a trainer, especially not someone who's done all this to me, turned me into some kind of... busty pokéslut," I stammered, thighs clenching, peeking nervously back over his shoulder... it had to be a bluff, right? He'd shown off a lot of tricks, but actually influencing the mind? That... that had to be fake... surely... hopefully…

"Indeed. It'd have to be some kind of magic. And you don't believe in magic, do you? I bet you're sure there's some kind of logical, rational explanation for everything that's happened. Some trick you're just too stupid to figure out. Is that it?"

He gave my new chest a nice, powerful slap, one that sent my tits flying with that momentum, dragging my body along behind them so that I ended up twisting around and falling to the floor, my new cushions breaking the fall. Which would have been great if they weren’t so sensitive I almost came right then and there!

"Gaah, d-dev! Oir…!" I gasped in pain. Ugh, why did this feel so good? I’d never felt this way when I was a flattie with mosquito bites…

"Well, I've no more patience for such silly ideas.” He pointed to the floor right in front of him.

For a long, tense moment, I glared up at him, gathering myself up on the floor. Any second now, I’d stand up. I’d toss him through that wall. No, I’d blast his brain and MAKE him fix me! I was done being nice to this creepy bastard. It was time to…!

“Mia, dogeza."

My forehead hit the floor with a thud, having to squish down and crush my tits against the stage to even be able to reach. "Nnfh, I'm... I'm sorry! I'm sorry for... for doubting you..." I found myself babbling, to say nothing of how the crowd got either a good view of cleavage crushed between my arms. I was facing away from them, so they all had a great view of my naked ass and stupid, drippy cunt too. Raised high and trembling…

"That's better. You might be a slow learner, but you do put on an entertaining performance for the crowd, don't you?" He said, planting his foot firmly on top of my head and pressing my face down onto the floor even more.

"But why don't you really give them a show now." Magnus snapped his fingers, the sound so loud it was like a small firearm had gone off. "Ladies, if you would, I think Mia needs something to dance on."

Waiting for their cue, his two lovely assistants, a cinderace and meowscarada—wait, he was a trainer? Then… where was his Psychic!? He had to be using a Psychic to do all this, right?—both in reverse bunny outfits that left nothing to the imagination, stepped out from behind the curtains, both of them carrying a seven-foot stripper pole with a wide base, heaving as they positioned it at the front of the stage.

Another snap of his fingers. "Music, if you would?"

A thumping bass and electronic notes started to fill the small club while the lights dimmed, the spotlight focused on the pole.

"And remember, Mia. While you're dancing, I want you to tell everyone here how grateful you are for your new titties and slave heart. How you're going to spend the rest of your life making it up to me."

"Nngh... ghhhh..." Thud. My tits squished down a little harder, leaking milk. I shut my eyes tight, focusing on not lifting my body from the floor, on not giving in to that thought. Why would I ever do anything showing myself off like that...?!

He might have gotten me with the dogeza, but I could resist him. I was my own girl. Woman. I was my own woman! And I wanted to…

I wanted to…

I wanted to become a perfectly devoted slave to my Master!

Slowly, I clumsily stood up, using my restored powers to float over to the pole, pressing my back against it and wrapping one knee and elbow around it, lifting my other leg and letting the spinning pole show off my cunt, the pole squishing against the side of my tits. "Aah... I'm sorry I was so rude, Master...! I'm so glad my tits are so heavy now, they feel so good when you slap them around!"

There was still a tiny trickle of resistance in my voice, but when my hand gripped the pole, easing that pole between my tits to imagine a thick shaft between them, wrapping my thighs around it and squeezing... that exertion was enough to quiet it for good. I could feel the glowing pink hearts in my eyes, giving everything a tinted shade to it.

"Thank you, Master! Thank you so much for making sure I can spend my whole life being your slave and serving you! Even my slave heart looks so pretty, because it's got your mark embedded on it, so nobody ever mistakes me for anything but your pokéslut property ever again~!" I shivered, shifting one last time, arms behind my back gripping the pole, leaning out forward far, my tits telekinetically squished together.

With my brain as melted as it was, this might be the most complicated thing I ever used it for from now on. "Thank you for making me look soooo much better, Master! I obviously look so much better with big fat cow tits!"

From there, the show carried on, escalating with the debauchery. Me and Magnus's slutty assistants performing like porn stars on the stage to the cheers of the crowd. Halfway through, my lopunny friend—what was her name…?—volunteered and joined me on the stage, and it wasn't long before she was wearing a permanent collar and we were licking his boots clean together to the delight of the crowd.

Afterwards, back at the hotel, Master Magnus was unwinding after such a draining performance. Freshly brewed tea from an assistant. Some trashy reality television show about sons dating their moms. A warm bathrobe straight from the dryer. And me, his loyal pokegirl slavegirl, on her knees, worshipping his cock in a slow, languid blowjob. One designed to keep him stimulated without orgasm. Little more than a comfortable hole to keep his cock warm.

I swear, I have a gag reflex. I remember choking just getting—what was his name?—my old trainer’s cock on my tongue. But somehow, tonight, it was all coming so naturally to me. I was sucking it like a pro, the only thing on my mind making sure Master was completely satisfied, a few curly locks of hair over my earfin bouncing lazily with each slow stroke. …I hadn’t ever liked the girly look of curls, but Master liked this look more, and that made the decision for me. My new tits jostled and squished against his thighs each time my head sank down, and I was practicing hilting out swallowing the head of his cock, and lapping my tongue over his balls, but I was equally focused on pulling up and slurping over the head of his cock, hazy eyes occasionally peeking up at him.

"Mmm... mmm.... good girl. I think you deserve a reward." Master Magnus said with a chuckle…

“Sucking your cock is reward enough, Master.” I breathed out, before going back to swallowing his cock.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. That she should have some other reaction. That somehow, just continuing to suck his cock was… wrong.

“Master? Did I displease you?”

"Ah! Of course…." He smacked his forehead. "Can't believe I forgot."

Magnus pressed his fingertip to my forehead, then pushed, tilting my head backwards, so I was staring up at the ceiling.. "Remember."

A disorienting wave of confusion passed through me, my mind spinning as false memories faded away and old ones filtered in.

I didn’t live in this city. It was my first time here. No, I…

I'd been traveling with Magnus on his never-ending tour for years now. He’d taken me from the Archives at Pocket Monster University. One of the thousands kept sealed away in cold storage. I’d been… different back then. Violent. Sadistic. Powerful, but not worth the trouble to anyone else. Except Magnus…

He was patient. Sneaky. I think he had to work with me for more than a half a year before we formed our Bond. But then… oh, it felt so good.

There was no high like using your own psychic powers to brainwash yourself. To condition yourself to cum on command. To lock away your own orgasms and offer them like a gift to a man. To be nothing but his subby, slutty slavegirl.

After I’d been tamed, we started touring. Adult magic. He started expanding. Lily the Meowscarada and the Cinderace Lee Ann. His apprentice, Sable, and Sable’s pokegirl, Rose.

That’s right. In the audience. That was all part of the act.

The false Mia persona fell away. I had another name. A real name. But Master had nicknamed me Slaveslut, and it was the name that made me feel warmest on the inside. And it was so fun, constructing new identities, new volunteers for Master’s shows. It was like I got to bring him brand new girls to trick and tame, over and over.

"Now then. Take the funbags off. I want to cum all over your real chest."

Funbags? Oh right.

The prosthetic boobies were held on with psychic power, and as soon as I relaxed the bond, they flopped and bounced on the carpet, my slender curves and real nipples once more on display. The fake “slave heart” dropped next, and I caught it, floating it over to its case, to sit alongside my “chest-spike”. I might be a pokegirl, but Master kept my Corruption so low, the only thing I had was my curly blue hair and spiky ear fins to show for it.

Master Magnus didn't have any real magic. Tear-away clothing and sleight of hand had taken care of the clothing I'd worn, and a bit of quick levitation got me my “accessories”, floating in from the audience’s blind spot. It was ridiculous, really. The idea that magic could remove signs of pokégirl corruption or inflate my chest in an instant.

The only way he could sell it to the audience was to make me sell it to them. Make me believe in the magic myself.

Master was so clever!

"Now then... as I said. I think you deserve a reward."

Cock still in my throat, the spinning hurricane inside my head was finally starting to calm down. My head pulled up with a sharp gasp, a pop of my lips around his cock, and... then, I sank back down, immediately lapping over his balls and sucking on them properly with a muffled "Mmfh, yes Master," fingers all curled around his shaft, pumping slow and deliberately just the way he'd taught me, completely devoted to his pleasure.

"Please... haaahh... please cum all over my tits, Master, you deserve it, after how... haaahh... intense tonight's show was... I want what you want, I want my chest covered in your cum like the dumb pokéslut I am, Master..."

"Nnnngh..."

With a grunt, he let himself over that edge, his hips jumping as his cock twitched, firing off ropes of hot cum that splattered against her chest in off-white lines, viscous enough that they barely dripped before settling.

"Hahhh..." It was the best part of his evening routine. Satisfied, he affectionately rubbed the top of my head, then leaned back into his chair.

"Mmm... maybe a busty bimbovoir next time. You can wear the funbags from the start, and we'll vanish them for the crowd." He chuckled at the idea, then let out a yawn. It was important to change things up. Keep the audience on their toes.

"Well... can think about it in the morning."

For tonight, Master was ready for bed. As was our routine, I jumped in first, lying facedown on the sheets, and he crawled in after me. Half hard, it took a few seconds to guide his cock back into my tight slit, but I wriggled my hips and helped, providing a nice cushion. Lying on top of me, he put his head on the pillow and drifted off, dreaming of what was to come next.

Hopefully, it’d be a lewd dream. The kind that’d wake his cock up. Make him pound me into the mattress until he calmed down.

Those were the best dreams.

And you know what the best part of Psychic powers is? You can give your Master the best dreams every single night.

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Thanks to my good friend Mia for help with this sidestory, and thanks for reading! Volume 2 starts next week, and you can find all my other relevant links over here: https://linktr.ee/griztorc