“Noel, use moonblast!” Your sylveon lets out a cry of acknowledgement and opens his mouth, sparks of pink light already starting to flicker and multiply between his jaws. The sun itself seems to dim for a second as that pink light coalesces into a ball and shoots forward, streaking towards the mienshao standing at the other end of the battle area. She tries to dodge, but the projectile shifts direction mid-flight ever so slightly, just enough to slam directly into her chest. The mienshao is sent flying, tumbling into a heap a good six feet from where she was standing. She tries to push herself up, but lets out a groan and slumps down against the grass, unconscious. “Wow,” the mienshao’s trainer says, a beam of red light shooting out and enveloping the fainted pokémon as he recalls her into her pokéball. “Got a right feisty girl, there. Where’d you get her?” You inform the other trainer that you hatched and raised [i]him[/i] yourself, then lean down to give Noel a scritch between the ears when he comes over to rub against your legs. The other trainer, evidently not all that experienced if the fact that he tried to use a fighting type against a fairy is anything to judge by, stares at Noel with wide eyes. “You’re telling me that thing’s a boy?” Rolling your eyes when he’s not looking, you inform the other trainer that yes, Noel is a boy, as are 87.5% of all eeveelutions. While you’re speaking, Noel refuses to stop rubbing himself against your legs, no matter how much you pet him or try to push him away. It gets to the point where the other trainer starts giving you funny looks while you speak to one another. You wrap the conversation up as quickly as you can, take your reward money, then start the walk back home. You’re sure that he didn’t know—you always make sure to avoid tight pants that would reveal anything out of place, and your relationship with Noel isn’t something that anyone could really guess at a glance, anyway. Even so, you’d appreciate it if your pokémon wasn’t quite so affectionate with you out in public where other people can see. You try to hint at that during the walk home, but Noel doesn’t acknowledge it, and refuses to stray more than three feet from your side the entire time. --- Once you get home, you finally manage to pry yourself away from Noel, and he wanders off to do whatever it is he does when he’s not around you. You don’t pry too much; you’re just glad to get a little time to yourself once in a while. You decide to spend that time playing one of your favourite games. After fixing yourself a glass of chocolate milk, you make your way over to the living room and plop yourself down in front of your computer, mashing the power button with a finger and listening to the fans whirr up. It’s a hunk of junk, its case set in that wonderful off-white hue that’s the trademark of old, junky computers. You’re too cheap to replace it with anything newer, though. Not when it still works and can run the only game you ever play. You fire up the game, load your last save, and are returned to a world of government conspiracies and secret organizations with strangely numbered names which happen to coincide perfectly with the average amount of polygons on the screen at one time. Your character is a slick-looking secret agent who solves his problems by crawling through vents and hitting people in the back of the head with a baton. It’s probably your fifth playthrough. You get less than half an hour in and only halfway through your glass of chocolate milk before you hear something from the hallway behind you. “Oh, maaaster!” Noel’s voice floats through the air like a puff of candy floss in the breeze. You can’t help but be amazed. How does he manage to sound so sweet? That on top of all the pink and frilliness, just talking to him seems like it should be enough to plunge you into a diabetic coma. You’ve gotten used to that, though. Now you have entirely different problems to deal with. As Noel bounces into the room from around the corner, you feel nervousness flutter around in your chest—alongside other feelings that are just as inappropriate for a trainer to feel about his pokémon. “Whatcha doin’?” Noel asks, padding up behind you and leaning against the back of your chair while he leers over your shoulder. You can feel one of his fluffy ears brushing against your own. Before you can answer, he gets an eyeful of the trench coat-and-sunglasses wearing man plastered across your screen, and lets out a sigh of mock annoyance. “That old game again?” He rounds off his words with a loud raspberry that sends flecks of spit spattering across your cheek. “Wouldn’t you much rather be playing with me?” You glance back at him. Noel certainly doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to getting your attention. He doesn’t even wait for a response before grabbing your sleeve in his mouth, tugging you back and away from your desk. Letting out a sigh, you don’t resist, taking only a second to pause your game before standing up and letting him lead you where he will. Noel lets out a happy little squeal and lets go of your sleeve, knowing that you’ll follow him regardless of whether or not he’s leading you. Sure enough, you do, and he takes you down the hall and straight into your bedroom. It should be a place of rest and relaxation. Instead, you feel a bit on edge whenever you’re inside, a feeling of anxious expectation seeming to permeate the air at all times. “Alright, you know the drill,” Noel says, hopping up onto your bed and kneading the sheets for a couple seconds before he settles down onto them. “Strip.” Just like the half-dozen other times he’s had you do this. You start with your shirt, pulling it off over your head and dropping it to the floor beside you. Then your socks, tugging each one off of your feet before adding them to the pile. By the time you’ve finished with your jeans, bunching them up around your ankles before stepping out of them, the only shred of clothing you’ve got left on you is your underwear. Noel makes no attempt to hide his eyes, instead choosing to openly stare at the bulge in the front of your briefs. “I didn’t say stop,” Noel says, voice carrying a hidden edge that lies just under his usual sing-song tone. Not at all eager to anger your sylveon, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your briefs and tug them down to your knees. Your manhood flops out—wrapped from tip to base in a thick layer of pink plastic, just as Noel left it. A small lock dangles from the bottom of your chastity cage, making sure it stays nice and shut until the owner of the key deigns to open it. “Yay!” Noel squeals, overcome with joy at the sight of you locked and caged. “You’re still wearing it! You’re such a good, good boy.” He hops off the bed, too full of excitement to sit still, and pads over to you to get a closer look at what’s between your legs. He leans in and presses his face between your thighs, sliding his muzzle underneath your cage to nuzzle against your balls. The feeling of the hard plastic of the cage pushing against your pubic bone combined with his warm fur rubbing against your nuts is enough to make you shudder. “Oh, wow,” Noel says, his hot breath washing over your sac with his every word. “They feel so full. Looks like you haven’t been sneaking in any fun without me. So obedient!” You’re shivering now, the sound of Noel praising you while his muzzle is buried between your thighs almost too much for you to withstand. You can feel your cock strain against the confines of your cage, trying in vain to achieve an erection before being crushed back down by the plastic. Even so, you can feel a bead of pre form on the tip of your flaccid member. Noel steps back and looks up at you, at how your knees are quaking and your eyes are avoiding his from even that brief contact. He smiles. “Alright, master, go get the key.” With shaky steps, you make your way around the bed and over to your night stand, pulling open the topmost drawer. Inside lies a tiny silver key, exactly where you left it. You grab it and walk back over to your position in front of Noel. “Thaaank you,” Noel says, snatching the key from your fingers with a ribbon. He inspects you from toe to tip, looking hard at every inch of you while he twirls the key around and around in his ribbon. You squirm under his gaze. “I was going to unlock you,” he says after a long silence, “but... no, not yet. Too early. Alright, on the bed!” Suppressing your disappointment, you hasten to comply, jumping up onto the bed before flopping around onto your back. Noel follows suit, hopping up and leaning down over you so that his bright blue eyes are only a few inches away from your own. “I know I yanked you away from your video game,” Noel says, “and I don’t want you to be bored, so I came up with a fun game we can play together!” You can’t help but gulp. He sounds legitimately excited, which only serves to make your fear that much stronger. It’s been a while since you’ve started doing things like this together, and in that time, you’ve learned good and well what it is Noel finds fun. It typically doesn’t end well for you. Noel pulls his face away from yours and replaces it with another part of his body, reorienting himself so that his hindpaws are planted on either side of your head and his backside is suspended directly over your face. It also gives you a good view of his sheath, swollen with only the tip of his pink member poking out of its top. He lowers himself down, laying his junk down directly on top of your mouth and nose. The smell of it immediately forces its way into your nose, and you can’t help but chuff as you feel it start to tingle in your nostrils, sinuses burning ever so slightly. You’re familiar enough with his scent to pick out individual details—such as the salty tang of sweat clinging to his balls, stronger than usual, and the musk emanating from the tip of his sheath. Clearly, he must’ve gotten himself off earlier in the day. You’re less surprised by that and more that he didn’t do it somewhere you’d be forced to see it, like he usually does. “I’m going to sit on your face, and you’re going to get me off with just your mouth,” Noel says, continuing to grind himself against your mouth and nose as he speaks while his cock steadily slides free from his sheath. “I’ll give you... oh, I dunno, two minutes? If you can’t do it in that time, you can spend another week in your cage! Doesn’t that sound fun?” You try to respond, but your words are somewhat muffled, coming up from between Noel’s thighs as they are. Whatever the case, he takes your answer as an affirmative. “Great!” Noel pulls himself up off your face before shifting himself forward, replacing the sheath grinding against your lips with the twitching ring of his asshole. His fluffy tail swats against your forehead. “Alright, timer starts now. Better get going!” It seems an impossible task, but you’ve got to try, if only because he’s told you to do so. You plant a kiss on his tailhole before letting your tongue join in on the action, slipping free from your lips in a big, wet lick directly against the sylveon’s entrance. He shudders as you launch into another equally large lick right on the heels of the first, lapping as his ass like a crazed animal. “Ooh,” Noel moans, grinding back against your face while his tail wags, slapping the top of your head repeatedly. “Good work, master, but you’d better do better than that if you don’t wanna get locked up~” You don’t need to be told twice. On your next lick, you push hard, overcoming the resistance of his tailhole as you drill your tongue inside. He gasps from above you, but you don’t let up for a moment, pushing as deep into his ass as you can manage. All the while, your tongue is hard at work, lapping at his inner walls while you use the sounds he makes as a guide for just where you should focus your attentions. It’s enough work to make the muscles in your face ache, but you give it your all. Judging by the feeling of pre dripping onto your chest, you’re making good headway, too—unfortunately, only a second after you feel the first drops, your tongue is yanked out from under Noel’s tail as he pushes himself back to his feet. “Time’s up,” he says, not sounding the slightest bit sad or disappointed at your failure. “That’s one week, but don’t worry. I’ve got another game!” He plants his paws on your chest and lowers himself down again, this time aligning the tip of his now-erect cock with your mouth. It’s slathered with his pre, more evidence of how effective your work beneath his tail was. He pushes his hips forward, and the head of his dick bumps against your lips, smearing them with his fluids. “If you can get me off this way, I’ll waive your punishment. Should be easier than the last game, so I think one minute is fair, don’t you?” You open your mouth to reply, and Noel takes the opportunity to ram himself forward until the head of his cock is battering against the entrance to your throat, drooling pre. “Oh, and it’s two weeks if you can’t do it. Get to work!” Your eyes bug out of your head, but your shock doesn’t translate to any time wasted. It takes only a second for you to get to work, gulping down the precum he’s dripped into your mouth already before sucking on the part of his dick you can reach. He sighs in pleasure, but makes no move to thrust himself further in, meaning you’re only able to work on a little less than half of it. It sucks, no pun intended. Lying back as you are, Noel has the perfect position to thrust as deeply into your throat as he’d like, but he doesn’t take advantage of it at all, instead choosing to just sit there. You can’t do anything about it other than grab him and shove him forward into your mouth, and you dare not try that out of fear of whatever exotic punishment he’d devise for such insubordination. All you can do is try your best. But your best isn’t good enough. The minute passes and, unsurprisingly, all you’ve gotten out of him is a mouthful of pre that runs down your face in rivulets when he pulls himself free from your mouth. “Come on, master!” Noel says, his facade of disappointment compromised by the joy he exudes at forcing you into these impossible situations. “That’s two weeks now. Are you even trying? While you blush and turn your face away in shame, Noel does something that you don’t expect. He moves a ribbon down between your thighs, and to your shock, you can hear the lock of your cage click open. He pulls it off of you and sets it to the side, letting your flaccid cock flop limp against your belly, having somehow managed to soak itself in pre even without the ability to get hard. Now that it’s free, though, your dick immediately starts to twitch and grow. He brings a forepaw down onto it, mashing it beneath his pads as it quickly hardens. You can just barely feel the prick of his claws against it, but you rest assured in the knowledge that he’s too nice to actually do anything with them—you hope. “One last chance,” Noel says, bringing his paw away from your cock. He turns himself around so that his ass is above your crotch and his face is right above yours, blue eyes boring into your own. “All you have to do is make me cum first. No time limit. You can do that much, right?” You nod instantly. It doesn’t matter if you actually think you can or not; you never say no to Noel. You’ve tried it before, and the consequences are always worse than failing to do whatever it is he wants from you. “Good.” He reaches down beneath himself with a ribbon and grabs your cock, pointing it straight up while he aligns it with his tailhole. “All you have to do is sit there and not cum. Should be easy, you’ve been doing it for the past week!” There’s no time to think of a comeback before Noel drops down onto your cock, sinking halfway down onto it in one go. You moan and clench up, toes curling at the feeling of tight, warm walls gripping you after spending so long trapped in the confines of your cage. Noel just lets out a moan of his own and forces himself down even further onto your cock until your balls touch his ass and his own dick slaps against your stomach. He reaches down to his stomach with a paw, rubbing at the bulge you’ve made in his abdomen. “S-still as big as ever,” Noel says, breath hitching as his cock twitches and spurts a thick wad of pre onto your stomach without even being touched. “We really ought to do this more often. Maybe we will, if you can hold back.” He lifts himself up until only the tip of your dick remains inside him before dropping back down, a loud slap ringing in your ears as his ass comes down hard against your thighs. When his body drops down onto yours, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding is forced out of you in a rush. It isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this with him, of course, but it always feels just as good—and overwhelming. Noel bounces up and down in your lap, his cock slapping into the smear of pre on your stomach whenever he comes down, each time adding more to it until you can feel droplets of it rolling down your sides. You lay there beneath him with your hands clenched into fists at your sides, trying your best to contain yourself while the most gorgeous sylveon you’ve ever seen rides you for all you’re worth. It’s clear that he’s approaching his peak with some speed—but you’re getting there faster. Lying back and letting Noel take the reins is a strategy that’s only going to end in you being put back under lock and key. So, even though it takes all your focus to do anything other than lay back and bask in the sensations of him riding you, you somehow manage to force yourself to act. You reach up and grab Noel by the hips, an act met with a gasp from the sylveon. When he looks down with shock that you would dare impose in such a way, you take the opportunity to thrust your hips upwards, slamming your cock into him hard enough for your balls to come up and slap against his ass. His eyes lid and he lets out a loud moan, not even attempting to restrain himself, while his cock throbs even more powerfully against your belly than before. It’s leaking constantly now, a never-ending trickle of precum drizzling across your abs that thickens every time you thrust up into him. He looks like he’s on cloud nine. Fucking him like this might be sending you rapidly hurtling towards your own peak, but at the rate things are going, you’re sure that you’ll be able to push him over the edge first. Right as you think you’ve gotten the better of him, though, two ribbons shoot out and grab you by the sides of the head. He pulls your face towards him while simultaneously pushing his own forward, mashing his muzzle against your mouth. A feral like him doesn’t quite have the parts needed for a true kiss, but his snout pressing against your lips comes pretty close. It lasts for a second before you feel a strange warmth gathering in his muzzle, one that rushes forward into your mouth. Pink fog fills your vision as a wave of what you immediately recognize as fairy energy rushes through your body, instantly transforming into pleasure as per the will of the one controlling it. You groan into the kiss, squirming around under Noel’s weight. Every inch of your body is tingling with invisible pleasure, particularly your crotch, where the energy seems to be focusing its efforts. It’s not fair! He’s playing dirty! Before you can do anything about it, though, another pulse of energy rolls through that kiss and into your body. It’s double the strength of the last, and far too much for you to endure. You let out a loud, muffled moan and shudder as Noel slams himself down into your lap. Your cock throbs in the grip of his ass, and you know it’s too late. The first burst of cum shoots out of you, thick and powerful from just how long you’ve been locked up. Noel pulls away from the kiss, tongue lolling from his mouth as he pants. “Four weeks,” he manages to say, before his words melt into a moan and his knot swells before your eyes. A twitch is the only warning you get before his dick erupts, a jet of cum shooting out of him with enough force to smack into your face. He rides out his orgasm like that, wringing every last drop of pent-up cum out of you while he paints your chest white with his seed. When you’ve both finished, he collapses forward on top of you, smearing both of you with the frankly ridiculous amount of cum he’s coated you with. His chest is heaving, each breath hot and heavy against the side of your neck, and you almost automatically reach up to wrap your arms around him. His fur feels soft and warm against your hands, and you wind up petting him nice and slow while you both recover. “I hope you know that cuddling isn’t going to get you out of your punishment,” Noel purrs into your ear, nuzzling against your neck. You hear a jingle from above, and when you look up, you see it’s from the key held in one of his ribbons. Another beside it is wrapped around your chastity cage. Four weeks. You cringe. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of plenty of ways to keep you entertained!” You’re sure he will. You sigh. It’s going to be a long month.