I've been called a lot of things: driven, goal-oriented, strict, shrewd, hot-tempered, calculating, cutthroat, impossible to work with—the list goes on. My spineless lessers call me cruel, but if they bore the kind of weight I carry on my shoulders then maybe they'd be less soft. One doesn't become the Team Rocket interim leader by being faint of heart and, even though Giovanni has returned to the top of the pecking order, I refuse to fade into the background.
I've fought too hard for too long to get here.
My footsteps echo sharply as I navigate a long, narrow corridor. Lights flick on to illuminate my path, the percussive sound echoing. The Rocket Council certainly has a penchant for dramatics, but I don't blame them. I know from experience that intimidation begins with appearances.
The connected room is round and windowless. The only furniture within is a crescent moon shaped table at which a row of five men in dark robes with a crimson ‘R’ emblazoned on the front sit. The overhead lights are positioned in such a way that you can't quite make out their features, the haziness giving them an almost ethereal appearance. Giovanni may be the face of Team Rocket leadership, but all of the operational decisions are made by the Rocket High Council. Only the upper crust of the organization knows of their existence, much less are called upon by them.
There's a single high-backed chair opposite the Council table and all eyes are on me as I go over to it.
“Ariana,” the man at the right end of the table greets. “Please, sit.”
“I'll stand.” I make eye contact with every one of those old fogeys and each of them looks away before I do. “You wanted to see me?”
“We wanted to commend you on the recent successful raid on Silph Co.,” the man to the left of the first adds. “The technology we confiscated will be vital to Team Rocket's plans.”
That’s a nice sentiment, but I know full well that they wouldn't call me here just to give me a pat on the back.
“That being said, you are one of our most promising Rocket Executives,” the middle Councilman says. “We believe a promotion is in order.”
I'm careful not to let my expression betray my excitement. “I wasn't aware that there was a title over mine.”
That's not 100% true: Giovanni’s is, but they would never replace him.
Like clockwork, the next man in order from right to left is the next to speak. Did they practice their delivery ahead of time? “We are currently assessing a new position. One that will put your particular talents to good use.”
“I see.” I'm not sure what exactly that could mean and the lack of specifics makes me cautious. “As you are aware, I am happy to be of service.”
“Keep up the good work,” the man seated furthest to the left says. He nods and they all stand as one. “We'll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” I say, bowing at the waist and maintaining the rare, submissive pose for a few seconds before straightening and raising my chin. “I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
…
A promotion? It's been so long since I've received one that I don't even remember the official procedure. Part of that is my fault for rising through the ranks so quickly, but I didn't expect them to take years to get their acts together. I had more than proven my worth in the meantime.
I'm about to take the elevator to the penthouse suite when the device on my hip chimes. It's a Pokégear, but unlike the ones given to Trainers starting their Pokémon journey it's set up on the Rocket private network. When I flip it open, the screen lights up with a candid photo of a Trainer as well as an attachment of a detailed team roster—the kind you'd receive after a Pokémon Centre healing service. I'm getting this alert because I requested it and I change gears immediately, selecting the button for the underground garage to take a car into the nearby town.
It’s a place so small and time worn that its name no longer appears on maps and therefore the perfect cover for our operations. The “locals” are actually all undercover Rockets and every so often they report Pokémon that might be of interest to the organization. The Executives get first pick and the rest trickles down all the way to the Grunts, who get the dregs. Why spend the time training your own Pokémon when you can benefit from the labour of others?
…
I depress the large button on the front and the Poké Ball swells to full size in my grasp before I lob it. The Pokémon that appears in a bolt of crimson energy is a massive purple serpent with a wide hood bearing a red and yellow crest that resembles an angry face.
“That’s him.” The Arbok rears up and hisses, its gaze following my pointing finger. “Dig.”
An innocuous furrow in the earth is the only indication that something is amiss and it makes a beeline towards the chatting youths while I follow at a slower pace. He's obviously flirting, his guard lowered by his foolish desire to impress a total stranger. As the 11ft long serpent explodes out of the ground, the young woman screams and flees, and the panicked boy ends up flat on his back.
He's trying to clamber to his feet when I pin him by placing a booted foot on the middle of his chest. The Arbok coils up nearby, awaiting my command, and I meet the boy’s wild green gaze and smirk. There's nothing quite like the high of being feared.
“Your Pokémon. Now.”
…
In the comfort of the car, I release my new Pokémon. The crimson energy explodes into a horned canine with dark fur and bone adornments around its throat and ankles and along its back. The Houndoom bares her teeth at me, flames licking between them as red eyes dart around—clearly searching for her absent master. She'd learn soon enough that she was looking at her new mistress.
I fix the Houndoom with a baleful look. “You serve me now. You can come quietly or you can be made to comply.” I hold up a collar that utilizes top secret Silph Co. technology to exert control over a subject, but I doubt I'll need it. Pokémon are creatures that recognize strength. The whole premise behind Trainers visiting the various Gyms across the region is to build that strength and the hunks of metal they acquire along the way are mere decoration. “The decision is yours.”
I continue to glower until the growl peters out and the Houndoom tucks her tail. At last, she sits on her haunches and hangs her head.
“Good girl.”
The trip back to Rocket HQ is largely uneventful. When the car stops the driver gets out and opens my door, then hustles over to the solid glass door at the front of the building. He struggles with it for a moment before opening it and a blast of cool air welcomes me inside. I've told the higher ups before that we need a dedicated doorman.
The Houndoom follows obediently at my heel as I cross the foyer to the reception. The entire building is made of metal, heightening the need for harsh artificial lighting. Exposed pipe and brick and bare bulbs create an industrial chic that isn't my cup of tea. There's a parcel for me to collect and the secretary manning the desk reminds me as I make my way toward the elevator that room service isn't available today. We'll see about that.
The elevator doors open and I'm faced with a wall of boxes situated precariously on a metal cart. The cart rolls forward and I step swiftly to the side to avoid collision, irritation furrowing my brow. The man pushing the cart notices me just then and flinches, his sudden stop causing the stack to teeter. A mini avalanche ensues; one box falls straight towards me from the top of the pile, but a gout of flames reduces it and its contents to ashes before it makes contact.
My frown deepens and the Pokémon beside me growls a warning.
The man pales. “I-I’m so sorry, Miss Ariana! I should have been looking where I was going.”
“Yes, you should have.” I briefly consider giving the Houndoom the command to burn the rest of the packages and let the now-babbling fool deal with the aftermath, when movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. Two distinct figures—one male with blue hair, dressed in Grunt whites, and one creme coloured feline Pokémon—are heading towards the first floor lounge. If I hurry, I can catch them.
“This had better be cleaned up by the time I get back,” I snap, shoving the package I’m carrying into his fumbling hands. “And deliver this to my room. Carefully.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he says to my back as I make a beeline for the lounge.
…
The lounge is open to all Rocket personnel. I've personally never spent a significant amount of time here, but I’ve heard it can get pretty rowdy in the evenings. At the back of the room, an L-shaped dark wood counter surrounds a comprehensive bar and there are a number of dexterity games—darts, pool, and the like—spread throughout. A half wall creates a dining area complete with vending machines and a kitchenette.
How quaint.
The duo I spotted are feeding money into one of the machines and the Meowth looks over at my approach. Almond-shaped eyes widen.
“Oh, crap. We gotta get outta here—ASAP.” The voice comes out of the scrawny, loudmouth feline who walks on two paws as though he thinks he's a person. The fact that he had taught himself human speech is no small feat; it’s a shame the wretched beast is loud, crude, and imbecilic—and the same can be said about his partners in crime.
I toss a Pokéball over the partition and a Pokémon with a stout dark blue body capped by a massive red, spotted flower, appears in front of them just as they attempt to flee. I flank the hapless duo on the other side with my Houndoom, effectively trapping them between a rock and a hard place.
“Hello, James. A word?”
James isn't given the opportunity to respond before a thick vine lashes around his torso and lifts him skyward. Meowth jumps up, claws extended, to try and free him and my Houndoom lunges. With just a snap of her teeth in his direction, Meowth skitters across the floor and out the door, yowling, “Every Meowth for himseeeeelf!”
“Don’t let anyone in,” I command, and the Houndoom obediently pads over to the entrance to stand guard. I smirk up at James. “You're a difficult man to get a hold of.”
Especially without the companionship of a certain magenta-haired Grunt.
“I didn't know you were looking for me,” James responds honestly. His face is already starting to turn red as blood rushes into his head.
“I have some questions regarding your teammates. Perhaps you can answer them for me.” I pull up a photo on my Pokégear and then present the screen to him. “Who are these individuals?”
James seems surprised and then he frowns. “Butch and Cassidy. Those jerks are always one-upping us in front of the Boss.”
That task likely isn't a difficult one, given their spotty track record, but I refrain from commenting. “So you would say this Cassidy woman and Jessie have a contentious relationship?”
“... Yep. Uh huh.”
I frown and cross my arms. “You're a terrible liar.”
“They hate each other’s guts,” he insists.
“I hate being lied to.” I gesture and the vine holding him aloft lifts him a little higher. “Unrelated: Do you have any idea how much damage a fall directly on one's spine can do?”
He immediately begins to squirm. “Let's not be rash…”
“Is there something going on between those two?” I press. “Beyond your teams’ petty rivalry.
“Er…”
“James.”
The vine lifts him a little higher and he howls, “Why do you care?!”
“Interpersonal relationships are my business when they affect performance.” That's totally fabricated, but he doesn't need to know that. “Besides, fraternization is against the rules.”
“Since when?” he scoffs.
“You should read things before you sign them, fool.”
I turn away from James and ball my hands into fists. He's essentially confirmed my suspicion and it won't make me feel any less sick with rage, but I have to know: “How long?”
“What?”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Uhm….”
My patience for this nonsense is at its limit. “Vileplume.”
James squeaks as the vines tighten around him. “They made it official last May! That's all I know, I swear!”
My lip curls. A full year. How had I missed the signs?
The door to the lounge creaks open a crack and I hear a familiar voice over the Houndoom’s warning bark: “Ariana? It's Jessie. Let me in.”
There isn't much time to make my point. I gesture and the Vileplume lowers the whimpering James to eye-level. “If you breathe a single word of our conversation, there will be consequences. Are we clear?”
His eyes are wide as he nods. I click my tongue and the Houndoom returns to my side.
“Ariana?” Jessie entreats a second time.
I run a hand through my hair and tug absentmindedly at the hem of my dress. “Come in.”
The door opens the rest of the way and in strides a woman with long magenta hair curled in a comet-tail. She's wearing the Rocket Grunt standard white uniform, though it's been modified into a crop top over a short black undershirt that I know she's been reprimanded for on more than one occasion. Deep blue eyes zero in on her dangling partner and then slide to me and her expression goes from worried to wary.
I've never seen fear on her face and that, more than anything, is what piqued my interest. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
I sneer even as my heart races. “Do you mind? We're having a nice chat.”
“Yeah right,” Meowth mutters, standing safely behind her legs. When I shoot him a sharp look, the Pokémon tries his best to look innocent.
“Let him go. Please,” Jessie says, adding the last part almost as an afterthought. Had anyone else done the same, they would have faced my wrath. “Whatever he's messed up, I will personally make amends.”
Now there's an interesting proposition.
“But Jessie—” We both give James a hard look—for entirely different reasons—and he wisely falls silent.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Fine.” I’m practically giddy with the fortuitous turn of events. I snap my fingers and the Vileplume unceremoniously drops James—safely on his rear. He hits the ground with a pained grunt then scrambles to his feet.
Her friends immediately turn tail, their hurried footsteps echoing down the hall, but Jessie lingers.
“New Pokémon?” she asks, inclining her head towards the Houndoom.
“Mhm.” The small talk is unexpected… but not unwelcome. I clear my throat and disclose, “There were still three left when I returned from the village. If you hurry, you might still be able to snag one.”
Her eyebrows raise, but she’s careful not to let her surprise show in her voice. “Anything good?”
“I don't remember,” I lie. “I'm a busy woman.”
“Clearly.” Her tone is sarcastic as she glances in the direction of the door.
She's planning her exit—the realization makes me panic a little. I need to say my piece before she does.
“I could forward you the list… if you'd like.”
This time, Jessie isn't able to curb her astonished expression. Why would I, an Executive, make such a generous offer to her, a Grunt?
I shrug with nonchalance I don't feel. “It’s your call. You know how to reach me.”
…
My package is waiting for me in my room, as instructed. I tear away the discreet brown outer packaging to reveal the contents: a sizable red silicone dild* with a suction cup base. It came with a strap on harness as part of a deal they were running—it's a shame I don't have anyone to use it on. The gloomy musing is a semi-frequent visitor and my foul mood is compounded by the fact that the one Rocket that I would possibly consider becoming intimate with is unavailable.
Beggars could be choosers, evidently. Why else would I be lonely while my lessers cavort without a care?
I take the toy with me into the bathroom to give it a thorough cleaning and then work off some steam. The news of Jessie's relationship status frustrates me in more ways than one. What did Cassidy have that I didn't? What could she offer that I couldn't? My pride stings—but more than that, I'm furious that Cassidy had had the guts to do what I haven't dared to do.
I turn on the water and stick the dild* to the wall beneath the spigot using the suction cup base. Then I pour a generous amount of lube from the bottle on the counter and coat my fingers before sliding two into my puss*. It's a tight fit, but as I scissor them to open myself up, the soft warmth relinquishes its vice grip. I'm breathing harder, my heart rate accelerated, as I pull my fingers free.
The lukewarm spray hits my back while I position myself in front of the toy, bending at the waist as I line up the head with my entrance. I roll my hips back, using gentle pressure to ease the glans inside. It's been a while since I've taken anything of this size and the sensation of being stretched elicits a whimper. I breathe in deeply through my nose as I push back until my bottom meets the tile. I lean forward until only the head remains then take it back down to the base—slowly at first, but with more speed and force as my body adjusts. I bite my lip to keep from crying out as I palm my breasts, pinching and tugging my nipples none too gently.
It isn't long before I'm riding the dild* for all it's worth, the sound of my flesh smacking against the tile echoing in the bathroom and sounding almost convincingly like flesh against flesh. My imagination takes that sound and runs with it, conjuring a body behind me that heightens the pleasure that wells up within my core. I throw my head back as I reach org*sm, my inner muscles clamping down hard as my thighs tremble and my knees threaten to give out.
‘Jessie…’
I'm dozing off when the Pokégear on my nightstand buzzes, impossibly loud in the silence. I fumble for it mechanically, squinting against the bright backlight to make out the words on screen. It's a private message; when I see who it's from, a grin spreads across my face.
“Is it just me or has Ariana been a massive bitch lately?” I ask, keeping my voice low. The locker room is empty, but you never know who's listening.
We're standing in one of Team Rocket's many underground outposts after having run into each other completely by coincidence. This one is somewhere between Saffron City and Vermilion City and it's the kind of place where you can lie low for a little while, complete with a fully stocked pantry, costumes and matching fake IDs, and a subterranean getaway vehicle.
Jessie shrugs. “I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary.”
“Of course you haven't. It's obvious that she has a thing for you.”
She glances up from the mirror she had been using to reapply her lipstick and scoffs. “As if someone like Ariana would be interested in a Grunt.”
She's in denial or maybe just naïve if she believes that. Lust isn't limited by rank or how many Pokémon you've successfully stolen; it boils down to animal attraction, plain and simple. And fair-skinned, full-bodied Jessie is a looker.
“The fact of the matter is that she needs someone to bend her over and help her pull that stick out of her ass.”
Jessie titters and smirks. “Are you offering?”
I make a face. “I'm not into the frigid bitch type.”
“Funny, that's how I would have described you before getting to know you better.”
It was silly how our repressed sexual attraction had manifested itself in childish squabbling. We had wasted so many years dancing around each other. “Oh, you think you know me?”
There's a sparkle in blue eyes, an answer to my challenge. “A bit, yes.”
Her pretty, smug face pisses me off. “Get lost. I'm sure Ariana would love the company.”
Jessie’s smirk widens. “Don't be like that, babe.”
“I'm not being like anything,” I huff.
She stands in my way as I try to move past her and I give her a hard shove. Or, at least, I try to. Jessie is too quick: She catches my wrists and pulls me against her, her lips finding purchase in the hollow of my throat. Despite my irritation, I'm no match for her wandering hands and I melt into her as she hitches up the hem of my dress. She nudges aside my underwear and touches my sex directly. I'm already drenched.
“Jessie…” I moan.
My back hits the lockers behind me as Jessie pushes me up against them and kneels in front of me. My breath hitches as she places her hands on my thighs and wastes no time burying her face in my puss*. Her tongue zeroes in on spots that make me cry out throatily and there's a loud ‘bang!’ as my head falls back against the locker.
My partner, Butch, is waiting for me outside and he still doesn't know about us. If I take too long, he'll come looking for me—walk right through that door and see me sitting on the face of my supposed nemesis. The danger of possible discovery is a huge turn-on.
Jessie adds two fingers to the mix, curving them just so as she flicks her tongue against my cl*t. Doing so sends electric arcs of pleasure along my spine and I'm hard-pressed to hold in my voice. I hook a leg over her shoulder and tangle my fingers in thick magenta locks as I begin to rock, riding her fingers and tongue with a low moan.
My lover does in fact know me very well and she drives me wild with her steady pace as she hammers a spot that makes my eyes roll back. My inner walls twitch as I get closer to release, their tight grip heightening the delightful friction. Just a bit more…
“I'm gonna—!”
“Cass?” a raspy male voice calls. Then, there's a knock on the locker room door. “Is everything alright?”
Jessie's eyes meet mine, wide with alarm. Then, she smirks and f*cks me harder.
“Mm…!” I shudder bodily and bite down on my knuckle to stop from crying out as I climax. My head knocks against the locker behind me again and I vaguely hear Butch question the noise.
“We'll continue this later,” Jessie promises. There's no time to do much more than remove her fingers and grab a towel from a pile of clean ones while I pull my clothes back into position. I slide into a seated position, my knees refusing to support my weight and Jessie chuckles. Then, she kisses the side of my head and slips out the side door before she's discovered.
And not a moment too soon: the main door opens and a green-haired man pokes his head inside. He sees me on the floor and the door opens a little wider. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” I say gruffly. The feeling hasn't quite returned to my knees yet and, when Butch moves to help me stand, I wave him away. “Just give me a minute.”
…
He's stopped asking if I'm alright, but I can feel Butch glancing at me as we head into town. Our destination is the Vermilion Harbour, where we have on good authority that the S. S. Anne will be docking soon, loaded with Trainers. Saffron is the bigger of the two options, but far too risky given the recent raid of Silph Co.
There's only one route into Vermilion City and I frown when I don't see Jessie. She wasn't foolish enough to go to Saffron City while things were still hot… Was she?
I'm distracted by that niggling concern the entire time Butch and I are engaged in our nefarious activities. True to our source’s word, the S.S. Anne docks and a gaggle of Trainers from Johto disembark from her deck. We split up and flank the chattering crowd, scanning the contents of their Poké Balls with a device and tagging the Pokémon of note with a disc-shaped gadget. Our team believes in quality over quantity.
Once I've finished my task I move into position and wait for Butch's signal. I don't have to wait long: A cry of surprise goes up on the far side of the crowd as a large number of fake Poké Balls roll across the street. While people begin to check their own belts and holsters and even scramble to pick up decoy ones, I press a button on the scanner.
A new cry goes up, this one of outrage, and it's echoed by at least a dozen other voices. The Trainers’ Poké Balls go clattering to the pavement and the tiny propulsion devices speed them towards their destination: The sacks that Butch and I hold. It happens so quickly that it takes the gathering a moment to even understand what's going on—and by then it's too late.
We make a run for it, our sacks slung over our shoulders. They're heavy, therefore slowing our retreat, but there should be a diversion for us to make a clean getaway in 3… 2…
A giant brown-furred rat bounds past us, something grasped in its large, pronounced incisors. I hastily pull a gas mask over my face and, in the next moment, the square is flooded with a smokescreen. In the ensuing confusion, Butch and I hightail it out of there.
Easy peasy.
…
We return to the hideout at the same time Jessie and James do.
We had sent our spoils ahead of us and are therefore empty-handed, so I'm curious when I see that Meowth is cradling a couple of Poké Balls. Had they actually managed to steal something?
I make a beeline for the trio and Butch follows behind me, questioning the sudden change in direction. They're chattering excitedly on the manicured lawn, and once I'm in earshot I hear Meowth ask:
“What the hell was that?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Jessie says. Her eyes cut surreptitiously towards me, and my ears prick up. She's clearly being evasive.
Neither James nor Meowth seem to notice.
“Since when do you have a Nidoqueen?” James asks. “I don't even remember the last time we managed to successfully nab another Trainer's Pokémon before today.”
That's sad, but on-brand for this buffoonish trio. I know Jessie to be a formidable opponent on the battlefield and I'm pretty sure these two are holding her back. She won't leave them for anything in the world, which is both endearing and infuriating.
In any case—a Nidoqueen? That was the kind of Pokémon you got from a Trainer further along in their journey, not the rookies Jessie and James tended to prey on. Where would she have snagged a Pokémon like that?
I break into a jog, pushing my way past the trio to stand firmly in their path. “Hey, dumbass, I challenge you to a battle!”
Jessie hesitates, then her hot temper surfaces and she sneers. She knows I'll question the new addition to her team, but she can't turn down a direct challenge. “Bring it on, bitch.”
“Cassidy, what are you wasting time with these idiots for?” Butch grunts as he catches up with me.
“Shut it.” He raises an eyebrow at my tone, but wisely decides not to comment.
Butch shrugs then crosses his arms as he leans against the trunk of a nearby tree. “Just make it quick.”
“Threes?” I propose.
Jessie nods, her expression wary. She can still play it off as though she doesn't have a new Pokémon, but I know her: She'll pick the Nidoqueen if she thinks it will win our battle.
We move some distance away from each other and face off, selecting a single Poké Ball from our collection. James will serve as our referee and he raises his hand straight up in the air as he looks from Jessie to me to ensure we're ready. “Cassidy challenges Jessie to a battle. Round one…” He brings his arm down in a chopping motion. “Fight!”
Two Pokémon into our battle, Jessie still hasn't called out the alleged Nidoqueen. My Granbull didn't survive its rematch with her Seviper, but my Raticate is my oldest and strongest partner and neither it nor her Weepinbell were a match for him.
“Final round,” James calls. “Jessie has one remaining Pokémon to Cassidy's two.”
I recall my Raticate in favour of a massive, jellyfish-like Pokémon with a domed blue head adorned with round red gems, several long tentacles, and wicked pincers protruding from the front and back of its round black underside. The Tentacruel defies gravity, its many tentacles swaying back and forth as though caught on a current.
Jessie clutches her last available Poké Ball tightly and I can see the resolute light in icy blue orbs even from here. She brings her arm back and flings the capture device, which releases a current of crimson energy. It coalesces into a bipedal blue Pokemon with an armoured hide, large ears, and a single horn protruding from its forehead. It's shorter than either of us, but stocky—built for Defense.
The collar around the Pokémon’s throat is something I've heard upper management crowing about for the last couple of weeks, but hadn't laid eyes on myself even as an Ace. How the hell had Jessie come by it?
The pieces click into place: Ariana. Who else was high up in the Team Rocket food chain AND accessible to Jessie? I grit my teeth as an ugly feeling stirs beneath my breast.
“Tentacruel, use Wrap!” I command, not giving my opponent a chance to consider her next Move.
The Tentacruel quickly attaches itself to its opponent, encircling her with long tentacles. As it begins to apply pressure and her Pokémon cries out in pain, Jessie scowls.
“Counter with Earth Power.”
The Nidoqueen stomps her foot and a geyser of earth shoots up from beneath both our Pokémon. My Tentacruel is weak to Earth-Type moves. I have to think quickly.
“Tentacruel, Reflect Type, then Hydro Pump!”
As the earthen geyser sends my Tentacruel flying, the damage is mitigated by the timely Type shift. The Pokémon’s beak opens mid-flight and a powerful beam of water shoots straight down at the Nidoqueen. The Pokémon throws her arms up to stave off the watery assault and the force of it pushes her back a few feet before my Tentacruel runs out of steam.
I have the upper hand in terms of Type advantage, but the Nidoqueen is proving to be a damage sponge. Even Butch looks a little tense as he spectates from the sidelines.
“Focus Punch!” Jessie commands.
“Evade it and use Bubblebeam!” I bark.
The Nidoqueen draws her arm back, fist flashing white, and attempts to land a powerful blow just as the Tentacruel twirls gracefully out of the way. Its beak opens and unleashes a torrent of bubbles—
“Ice Beam!”
The bubbles come to an abrupt halt, frozen, and clink to the ground. As they shatter, they send up a fine glittering powder. On the other side of the battlefield, Jessie smirks. That crafty little…
“Tentacruel.” It's time to end this. “Hyper Beam, now.”
Alarm flashes across fair features. “One more time: Ice Beam!”
Twin beams—one of humming energy and one of crackling ice—collide and everyone shields their eyes from the bright light that results. When the dust clears, there's only one Pokémon left standing. Well… floating.
The silence that follows is deafening.
“Winner: Cassidy!” James declares.
“How the hell did you get your hands on a Pokémon like that?”
I scowl as I recall my fallen Pokémon. Cassidy's tone rubs me the wrong way in light of my defeat. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Butch is watching, so she can't hold back. Cassidy scoffs. “When I said someone needed to pity f*ck Ariana, I didn't mean that it should be you.”
There's actual malice in her tone and I flinch. Of course she's already put two and two together and realizes I went to Ariana for help; Cassidy's always been as sharp as she is beautiful. She doesn't really think I slept with the Executive… Does she? The implication that seduction is the only way I could have managed to acquire my Nidoqueen doesn't sit right with me.
“Screw you.”
To our onlooking teammates, this probably sounds like one of our usual squabbles—the difference being I'm actually pissed as I whirl around and head inside without another word. I can hear James and Meowth scramble to follow and their concerned questions don't break my stride as I storm across the foyer. I don't stop until I've reached my quarters, slamming the door shut and throwing myself onto my tiny cot.
Home sweet home. I recall the luxury of Ariana's penthouse suite when I had made the nerve-wracking trip up to receive one of the Pokémon from her, and it makes my surroundings that much more cramped and disappointing.
I completely understand why Cassidy would be pissed at me, but I'm not going to apologize for doing what I have to to survive. Giovanni has always been relatively lenient with our team, but lately, it seems his patience is at an end. James and Meowth don't know it, but he's threatened to cut us from the team if we can't produce results.
Removal from Team Rocket isn't as easy as packing your bags and cleaning out your bunk. The individual is blacklisted by the organization and you'd be surprised by just how many things Team Rocket has their fingers in. Making a living, finding housing, and even travelling in certain parts of Kanto are difficult when you're an ex-Rocket and I've heard that the Grunts have the hardest time of all.
We need the Boss’s protection or we're screwed, plain and simple. Failing again isn't an option.
Besides, two wrongs don't make a right. Her outburst was uncalled for—plain and simple. She's on my sh*t list until further notice.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
I ignore the sound, fully expecting either Cassidy to demand entry or James to beg me to come out. When neither happens and the knocking doesn't persist, I sigh and get out of bed. When I open the door, there's no one standing there. Instead, there's a note that reads: Can we talk? The usual place.
There's no signature, but I know it's from Cassidy. I ball the paper up in my fist and turn to toss into the wastebasket beside my desk, then pause before shutting the door. “The usual place” could only mean the fourth-floor meeting room.
The six floors the Rocket HQ is comprised of are separated by rank: Grunts on the first two floors, Aces on the third and fourth, and the Admins and Executives on the fifth and sixth. Any Rocket can travel between floors, but you need the right clearance to be able to get past the pneumatic swipe card entry door. Cassidy and I have discovered that, while the fourth floor itself is well-travelled, no one actually uses the meeting room. That makes it the perfect place to fool around.
Despite my foul mood, my body heats eagerly at the prospect. It wouldn't hurt to hear her out…
…
The fourth-floor security door is slightly ajar when I arrive and I cast a surreptitious glance around before squeezing past it and kicking the obstruction out of the way. The door slides shut with a heavy sound as I hustle down the hallway. The pin pad outside beeps cheerfully as I put in the access code and the room beyond is dimly lit.
I'm not given the opportunity to fully enter it before I'm grabbed by the hair and pulled into a searing kiss. My heart hammers against the inside of my chest as I try to pull away, but the hand in my hair holds me in place as her tongue dominates mine. Her other hand isn't idle, reaching around to unzip my skirt. As it pools on the floor, the resulting draft makes me shiver.
I want to be upset, but it's difficult when it's taking a backseat to my arousal. I wouldn't be me if I didn't at least try. When Cassidy shifts her grip on my hair, I manage to place some distance between us. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting ready to f*ck you,” Cassidy answers, as though it should be obvious. I mean, it is, but the question is rhetorical.
“You really think I want to have sex after the horrible things you said to me earlier?”
“I dunno, you seemed into it a minute ago.” She's being purposely flippant.
I cross my arms. “Cass.”
Her expression sours. “What?”
I recognize that look. I uncross my arms and take a step closer. “You're jealous.” But why would she— “Of Ariana?” Cassidy tenses and I grab her shoulders before she can turn away from me. “Why?”
“You went to her for help when you've never once asked me. And we're…” Her lower lip trembles for a split second before she thins them into a disapproving line. “Is it because she's an Executive?”
As soon as the statement comes out of her mouth, I feel foolish. Why haven't I asked Cassidy for her help? Our years-old rivalry is a hard habit to shake and the idea has honestly never even crossed my mind.
“I'm sorry.” Cassidy blinks, surprised, and I take her hands in mine. “Ariana offered; I didn't ask. And I didn't want to tell you because I know how you feel about her. I should have been open and honest with you.”
The silence that follows is awkward. Why are we so bad at communicating with each other verbally? There is one tried and true method of conveying our thoughts and feelings, though: Actions.
I'm not sure who moves first, but our lips meet again—this time, in a passionate outpouring of affection. Affection heats easily into desire and, when we finally come up for air I'm flushed and eager, my puss* aching to be filled.
Cassidy smirks and, for once, we're on the exact same page.
…
I'm bent over the conference table, bare from the waist down, and Cassidy is fully dressed, a dild* jutting from the strappy leather harness she had slipped on over her leggings. I'm soaked and that makes it easy for her to thrust inside in one go, her fingers digging into my hips as my ass meets her pelvis.
She knew she'd win me over and had had the foresight to come prepared.
I groan and shudder, the sensation of being filled making my toes curl. It's difficult to keep my voice in as she begins f*cking me with quick, hard thrusts. The ‘slap’ of skin against skin echoes in the room, punctuated by whimpers as I bury my face in the crook of my arm. My attempts to stifle myself only encourage my sad*stic lover to f*ck me harder and it isn't long before I arch with a wordless shout.
There's an electronic beeping as the door to the meeting room unlocks, and then opens. The familiar red-haired figure that fills the doorway causes my breath to catch in my throat, but there's no stopping the tidal wave of pleasure that washes over me and I shudder as my eyes roll back. Cassidy stops thrusting as she, too, notices we have an observer. In the tense silence that follows, I realize that Ariana just watched me org*sm and I'm mortified.
“...”
“...”
“...”
We’re screwed. The moment she snaps out of her stupor, Ariana is going to have her Pokémon beat us then drag us through the Rocket HQ and up to Giovanni’s office. I've seen her do it before and the poor schmucks were never seen again afterwards.
The redhead smirks cooly and twists around, and then the door lock clicks into place with impossible volume. When she faces us again there's a light glinting in bloodred orbs that I never thought I'd see—especially not coming from her: Lust.
Has Cassidy been right all along?!
Ariana reaches up behind her neck and the quiet purr of a zipper precedes her white dress pooling to the floor. My jaw drops. She's got a great body, the lines of the fabric failing to accentuate her curves, and the lacy black underwear underneath is so sheer it leaves nothing to the imagination. More importantly—
“What the hell are you doing?” Cassidy demands.
“Collecting on a debt,” Ariana answers without missing a beat. She gives me a meaningful look and I start.
“Oh, um…” I'm beyond flustered, tripping over my words as I try to formulate a coherent thought. My roaming gaze doesn't make that task any easier and finally I settle on, “Hot damn…”
“Jessie?!”
Ariana chuckles and crosses the room, climbing onto the table as though that's the most normal thing in the world and leaning down to kiss me. I release a quiet whimper as she expertly dominates the kiss, my head spinning with confusion and arousal.
Cassidy sighs heavily and I wince as she pulls the dild* out of my puss*. “f*ck it.”
Never in a million years did I think I'd ever be here: kneeling behind a nude Ariana, while my girlfriend f*cks her mouth. Never. Cassidy had brought two strap-on harnesses for whatever reason and I’ve slotted a bright pink dild* into it, rubbing the length against Ariana's sex while I watch the scene with rapt attention.
“You like the taste of Jessie's puss*, don't you?” Cassidy jeers.
I shoot her a look, part of me still worried that our superior will punish us, but Ariana only moans throatily around the toy.
She's enjoying this—the realization is like a lightning bolt to the solar plexus. There's no more hesitation as I align the broad head with Ariana's entrance; she doesn't give me the opportunity to thrust inside as she brings her hips back and impales herself on the toy with a low groan.
f*ck…
I grab full hips and begin screwing Ariana with long, deep thrusts, the muffled sounds of her enjoyment making my inner muscles twitch sympathetically. Cassidy grabs her hair as she leans towards me and I meet her halfway, our tongues twisting in a sensual kiss overhead as we continue to fill Ariana from both sides.
I can feel when Ariana climaxes, her body tensing between us as her muffled moans take on a new pitch. She groans when Cassidy pulls the dild* out of her mouth and slumps against the table. I want to keep f*cking her, but Cassidy beckons me over. The conference table seats twelve easily and there's more than enough space for us to maneuver around the limp Executive.
Cassidy lays on her back and I eagerly straddle her lap, kissing her deeply as she unbuckles my harness. When she pushes the toy into my ass, the slick mixture of my juices and Ariana's saliva easing its penetration, I break away from the kiss and groan throatily. I begin to rock as Cassidy grips my hips, using my weight to drive the dild* deeper.
Ariana has already regained her composure and she straddles Cassidy's face backwards wearing nothing but a bra. The blonde curls her lip, but makes no comment as she grasps pale thighs and begins eating Ariana's puss*. The redhead kisses me again and her hands grope my breasts as I bounce on the dild*, swallowing my moans. Cassidy shifts the redhead forward and gives her ass the same thorough oral attention, and Ariana buries her face in my chest, her cries muffled as she marks me none too gently with teeth and tongue. I cum first, clamping down hotly around the dild*, and Ariana isn't far behind, her rough handling of my breasts driving me to greater heights as I shudder bodily.
.
.
.
I've lost track of how many times we've climaxed, our gyrating bodies slick with a lewd co*cktail of sweat, arousal, and saliva. At some point, I ended up sandwiched between my lovers and we share a messy three-way kiss as they grind their strap-ons between my thighs and against my buttocks.
I'm an absolute mess, my mind a hormonal haze. “Please…”
I'm not even sure what I'm asking for, but Ariana and Cassidy share a look. With just a bit of repositioning, Ariana is on bottom and Cassidy is above me. I bite my lip as the redhead thrusts up into me; I'm not given the opportunity to adjust before Cassidy fills my ass. I grip Ariana's shoulders for purchase, sweat breaking out on my body as I struggle with the intensity. Then, they begin moving in tandem and I can feel both dild*s rubbing against my inner walls and each other. The incredible friction makes me see stars.
I'm beyond full and my voice fails me as I shiver and bury my face in Ariana's throat. I can feel our hearts beat as one, pressed against her as I am, and the warm weight of Cassidy’s breasts against my back. The closeness—physical and emotional—to both partners only heightens my arousal.
Cassidy and Ariana share a brief kiss before they start f*cking me in earnest and the table beneath us groans, its legs scraping against the floor. The dild*s thrust in and out, stretching me to my limit, while their hands roam my body, finding purchase on my breasts, hips, and ass.
“Fuuuck…!”—it’s a half-whispered, half-gasped litany that pours out of me as the ecstatic coil that tightens in my lower abdomen threatens to snap.
Ariana bites down on the junction between my neck and shoulder at the exact same moment Cassidy tugs sharply at my nipples, their coordinated thrusts ramming the dild*s deep against my inner walls. My vision goes hazy as I cum with a scream that is surely heard throughout the entire fourth floor
…
Ariana is the first to get dressed and I… I'm still in no condition to do so. I try in vain to shake off my post-coital drowsiness when Cassidy approaches her, expecting sharp words—but instead the two converse in low voices. I can't make out what they're saying, my brain still awash with endorphins, and I blink blearily as Ariana slips Cassidy a flat object. Then with a final glance in my direction, the redhead is gone.
I stir and with great effort, mumble, “What was that about?”
Cassidy jumps, but quickly masks the reaction with a snide scoff. “I'm right. As always.”
“Huh?”
The blonde comes over and hands me the object, which turns out to be an envelope. Inside are two heavy, embossed key cards that grant access to a particular penthouse suite. My heart skips a beat, my drowsiness all but gone. “She gave you these?”
“Mhm.” Her gaze sweeps over my collar and breasts where Ariana had gotten a little overzealous while marking me and her tone is petulant when she adds, “I told you Ariana wants you.”
“Not just me. There are two keys. ” I look up, cautiously excited. “Can we…?”
Cassidy smiles faintly even as she shakes her head. “Fine.”
I throw my arms around her then get up on unsteady legs to retrieve my clothes. We sneak out of the meeting room and share a kiss before parting ways to take separate elevators to our respective floors. My body aches in the best of ways as I return to my room and go into the small, attached bathroom to turn the hot water on blast. A shower is very much in order, but first…
I pull out my Pokégear and start up a group chat with Cassidy and Adriana, posing a question about availability before setting the device down. I undress slowly, wincing whenever any of the muscles in my lower body flex, then stepping under the spray with a giddy smile on my face.
I'm eager and (mostly) ready for round two.
