Basking in the aftermath

You sit in a daze for several minutes. The man—you still don't even know his proper name—called Sir had left an indelible impact on you. You've always been guarded with moments here or there where, despite your best efforts to look after yourself, you've found yourself at someone else's mercy. Your time living in Team Rocket's facility had been a bit like that. Always compelled to obey and play due to a standing threat of possible ****. You were often mildly aroused by the situations that resulted from that, including and perhaps especially when it meant you got fucked by someone you wouldn't have picked for yourself.

In hindsight, it was never the sex that excited you, but the coercive nature of it all. Sir had found you in a moment of total vulnerability and had not hesitated to take full advantage. He used you like an object and left you where he found you and that makes you horny as hell. You understand now, cursing that it took a beautiful tyrant for you to see it. You're a submissive. You crave what he did to you, but you still have standards. Sir is that standard, now.

You want him. Want to belong to him. 'Get stronger,' he'd said. "Okay. Yes, Sir! I will." The desire to prove yourself as a trainer for your own sake evaporates in the heat of your desire to find Sir again. To impress him, perhaps even to please him with your progress as a trainer. "I did it for you," you'll say, when he notices.

You shake your head, chiding yourself for acting like a silly girl with a crush, but you know it's true. You'll do anything to bump into him again, and so you must become a powerful Trainer.

With one hand between your legs, stroking against the slick, already-soaked-through fabric of your trick clothing, you masturbate furiously before the memory of your encounter fades. You roll onto your back and schlick yourself to a crescendo as you replay the entire brief encounter with Sir. Your orgasm crashes into your hyper-aroused body so hard you don't even scream, but tense up and produce only a few strangled sounds of effort until you collapse, panting and red-faced into the grass.

God fuck damn you needed that. After a few minutes' pause to calm your breathing and regain your clarity, you sit up and decide what to do next. You smell like a cheap whorehouse at the moment and it's making it hard not to dive right back between your own legs, so you should find some water to clean up. You want to learn who Sir is—who he really is—but more urgently, you need to be where you are. Viridian Forest with a Pidgey that needs a serious training montage. You wouldn't mind filling your remaining two Pokemon with some helpful new companions, either. Your pack still contains rations and medicine enough to last a couple days in the woods, so why not get to it?

You catch another whiff of your own scent mingled with the heady musk of Sir's cum still on your face and sigh dreamily. Definitely clean up first.