Chapter 4 - Fainted: Dartrix

Author's Notes: 
Something about Dartrix's design just makes me think of an angsty, emo teenager (it's definitely the hair). Personally, I feel like that conflicts with their Pokedex entry describing them as obsessively clean, but maybe teenagers have changed. 

And I told you not to get used to me winning Trials with no losses. Kahuna Hala put me in my place, and if I hadn't gotten really lucky with a clutch paralysis, there would have been a lot more Pokemon in this chapter. 

Current Party:
Zip the Magnemite. Garth the Meowth. Webby the Spinarak. Revenant the Gastly. Bahamut the Bagon

Hawk the Dartrix - knocked out by Kahuna Hala’s Crabrawler.

- - - - - - -

Abby sighed, finally understanding how her mother must have felt when she’d been an angry, angsty teenager. A surly ‘hoot’ let her know that the towel she was dragging over Hawk had dared, dared to rumple some of his feathers. Sure, he was no longer drenched in mud, but his feathers weren’t perfect - this was clearly both her fault and required immediate action on her end.

Dropping the towel, she plucked a soft brush from her case, gently running it over the haughty, fussy Pokemon’s wing, teasing the feathers back into place and smoothing them back down. Her Pokemon gave a huff, a sign of grudging approval, and she had to fight not to roll her eyes.

The next few minutes were spent gently brushing his feathers, making sure they were all flat, and plucking any that had broken or become too ruffled and messy. Every since his evolution, Hawk had become obsessed with cleanliness and his appearance, which Abby didn’t mind, but when he started refusing orders in battle if she hadn’t done a ‘good enough job’, well, that was the kind of thing that fried her patience real fast.

She still loved the feathery idiot, but there were days he seemed to be out to test her very last nerve. Which was…. Well, just what she’d done to her mother as a teenager.

“There, like you never even left your Pokeball,” she said, stepping back and starting to pack her grooming tools away. “Happy?”

“Dart. Dartrix!” Hawk frowned at her, pointing at himself with his wing, his eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

“What could I have missed? You look fine,” Abby began, but he pointed more insistently, and her eyes tracked downward and-

“Ahhhh, you think I missed a spot, huh?” She grinned, resting her hands on her hips and watching as Hawk’s smooth, slightly pointed pink shaft eased out from between his feathers, a fat droplet of pre already glistening at the tip.

“I don’t,” Abby said, lifting a hand to stroke her chin, “I’m pretty sure only good boys get cleaned there. Bad boys who won’t listen to their trainer have to clean themselves up. I’ll just leave the tools out and let you take care of it on your own.”

His haughty mask cracked for a moment, letting her see a glimpse of the shy, fluffy little ball of feathers she’d started her journey with. His eyes darted away, the white feathers on his face seeming to flush pale red for a moment.

“D-Dartrix?”

Abby silently raised an eyebrow, having to fight down a giggle at the absurdity of it all. Next thing she knew, she’d be ordering him upstairs to clean his room - or chewing him out for using her underwear to jerk off.

“Dart…”

Dammit, she knew she’d be an awful parent. He looked so downcast she couldn’t help herself, dropping down to the grass so she was face to face with that twitching, dripping dick. Smiling up at him, she reached out, gently fondling his soft, downy sack as her lips kissed the very tip of his shaft. His pre was a bit on the thin side, but sticky as anything - like tree sap on her tongue as she slowly started to lick and slurp at his tapering pink length.

“Promise me you’ll be good, okay? I don’t mind pampering you, but we can’t have multi-hour spa days every day.”

“Dart! Dartrix! D-dart!”

Good enough. Straightening her neck, Abby shoved herself forward, enveloping Hawk in the soft warmth of her mouth, lips tightly wrapped as she started to bob her head. He wasn’t the biggest Pokemon she’d ever seen, but he was big enough to be a bit of a challenge closer to his base, her jaw aching slightly as she messily slurped and sucked. Bigger than most people, anyway, and that was damn impressive for his size.

Her lips left blue smears, stark against the pinkness of his shaft, as she worked him. His feathery wings clutching at her head as that fussy mask shattered to pieces under the ministrations of her lips, his face twisted up in happy pleasure as his trainer sucked his cock for all she was worth. Pre splashed across her tongue in thin streams, his shaft jerking each time she swirled his tongue around his tip, spit bubbling up from the corner of her lips and dripping to the dirt. He may have become a little prissy with his evolution, but Hawk still couldn’t say no to a wet, messy blowjob.

Giving his feathery nuts a gentle squeeze, Abby picked up her pace, bobbing her head faster and faster, the wet sound of her lips squishing and filling the air as Hawk clung to her hair, his hips working, meeting her head and pressing her nose hard into his pubic bone. His cock was smeared full length in blue, glistening each time she pulled back under a gooey mix of spit and pre.

With a loud cry, Hawk shoved his trainer back, cock popping from her lips as he came. Thin ropes of sap-like cum splattered across her face, long ropes that stretched from her bangs down to her chin. Like the good trainer she was, Abby opened her mouth, tongue rolling out to catch all she could, even as he wasted most of it across her face. Marking his trainer as a Poke-slut with every pale rope he splattered across her dark, delicate features. By the time he was done, his cock drooping and dribbling the last few drops into the dirt, Abby's face was painted, soaked in jizz.

She didn’t need a mirror to know just how much of a mess she was. Her lipstick was probably smeared, her mascara no doubt running, mingling with the white gunk Hawk had washed her in.

“Feel better?” she asked, licking up some of the mess that clung to her lips, savoring the sharp, almost floral taste as she rolled it over her tongue. “Cause I think it’s your turn to help *me* clean up.”

Her answer came in the form of a Hawk casually tossing the grooming towel right into her face.

Teenagers~

