“I’m hungry.”

Zweilous’ left head furrowed his brow, trudging forward without turning his head an inch. He refused to acknowledge the other head. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

“Hey. I’m hungry.”

His eye twitched in annoyance. He was always like this, always asking him to do everything even though they shared a body. A freeloader joined to him at the neck. Evolution couldn’t come fast enough.

“I’m hungry!” This time it was shouted right in his ear. Zweilous’ left head let out a shriek, their body stumbling and nearly toppling over as their legs suddenly came out of sync.

“What do you mean you’re hungry?” the left head shouted back, teeth bared. “We just ate fifteen minutes ago!”

“You mean you ate. I barely got any.” The right head was completely calm, not intimidated by his aggressive posturing in the slightest. After all, he knew quite well that they shared their sense of pain.

“We have the same stomach, you idiot!”

“We sure do. I’m still hungry, though.”

Zweilous’ left head grumbled, looking back to the woods ahead of them. “Fine. I’ll look for something to eat.” It was no use arguing with him. He’d start throwing a fit if he didn’t get his way, and it was very difficult to get anything done when the right half of your body wanted to do something else. 

It didn’t take him long to find a berry bush. It looked like half the fruit had been picked clean already, but what was left was more than enough. They were lucky to find that much, anyway.

“There, berries. Go nuts.”

“What, these? I don’t want these. These are Pecha berries.” Zweilous’ left head looked at the right in absolute disbelief of what he was hearing.

“Are you serious? You like Pecha berries. Your last meal was Pecha berries. That was literally less than an hour ago.” Shock turned into anger as he spoke, barely able to keep himself from shouting.

“Well, yeah, I ate them. That doesn’t mean I liked them,” the right head said, scoffing, like it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “If I didn’t eat them, I’d be hungry. Well, hungrier. And you’d be mad if I didn’t, so, you’re welcome.”

The left head grit his teeth, on the verge of screaming. “Are you saying you did me a favour by eating those berries?”

“I mean, yeah? Have you ever tasted one of those things before? Gross. Least you could do is find me something palatable, like, some Cheri berries or something.” His eyes lit up. “Ooh, or some Razz berries! Do you think there’s Razz berries around here? Man, that’d be sweet.”

His teeth hurt from how hard he was clenching his jaw. Biting a chunk out of the neck next to him almost seemed worth the pain it’d cause. But instead of doing that, he started walking off to find another berry bush, the legs on his side of the body stomping angrily and kicking up clods of dirt while the ones on the right calmly kept pace. No point in arguing, he thought, repeating it over and over again in his mind. It was the only thing preventing him from tearing himself to pieces.

He’d caught a sweet scent on the wind, possibly some Mago or Wacan berries, and had managed to track it to its source. A huge bushel of yellow fruit, nearly untouched, save for a few Pidgey that seemed to have arrived just a few moments before them. A quick roar and charge made them disperse in a hurry, even if the bored look of the Zweilous’ right head was less than intimidating.

After giving it a cautious sniff, the right head tentatively plucked one of the berries from the bush with his teeth. Biting into it, he swished the juices around in his mouth, testing if it was to his satisfaction. He hated that about him, always the picky eater, as if he didn’t even realise the skill, effort, and sheer luck that went into finding any food at all. He prepared himself for another long winded rant about the taste of the berries, or to be told to find yet another berry bush, or—

“These are good,” the right head said, spitting flecks of pulp and berry juice as he spoke before shoving his head back into the leaves for more.

“Ah. Great.” The positive response was mildly surprising, but not enough to fix his sour mood. A day of traipsing around the forest looking for just the right kind of berry was hardly mollified by a few pleasant words from one of the people he detested more than anyone in the entire world.

“How’d you know I like Shuca berries?” His voice came from inside the bush, too enamored with scarfing down whatever he could to even look at him.

“I didn’t,” he muttered. Truth be told, he didn’t even know what a Shuca berry was. He had no idea where his right half got so knowledgeable about the different kinds of berries, but it was proving more of a hindrance than a help. He could feel his stomach start to feel full as the right head gorged himself on fruit, an odd feeling, but one that he was more than accustomed to at this point.

“Alright, done.” The right head pulled his head out of the bush, maw covered in berry juice and bits of skin, along with a fair portion of his neck fur. The left head looked away pointedly, stifling a feeling of disgust, and walked away. It was just too bad that his right half had to come with.

There were a few, precious minutes of silence after that. The right head had calmed down some, his constant irritation at his counterpart’s behaviour having dulled down to a low hum in the back of his mind rather than being the focus of his attention. In fact, he was close to feeling downright pleasant.

“I’m horny.”

Those words made his blood run cold, and he froze in place mid-step. Thankfully, his right half seemed to be expecting this, and stopped as well. “Excuse me?” His voice was hardly more than a whisper.

“Horny. Like hungry, but for sex.”

“I know what horny means!” He was already yelling. So much for his good mood. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Well, you could help out. I mean, it’s yours too, so it’s not like it’s gay.”

If he had eyes, they’d be bugging out of his head. Indignation caught in his throat and came out as a scream. “I AM NOT GOING TO—“

“Fiiiine,” the right head sighed, more disappointed then frightened by his screaming, “then find someone else for us to do.”

A frustrated growl rumbled in his chest. At least he was trying to compromise, he wasn’t likely to get much better out of him than that. “Fine,” he spat, starting to walk forward again.

“Wait, I changed my mind,” the right head said, and he’d felt relieved for half a second before he continued. “Let’s find someone to do us instead.”

There was no stunned silence this time, just immediate, thoroughly enraged shouting. “What?!”

“You know, like a real big, male Pokémon to—“

“You aren’t gay, I’m not gay, we aren’t gay, and we are not doing that!” The left head was screaming into the face of the right, who seemed only the slightest bit perturbed. Clearly, trying to get his way by sheer volume had lost its effectiveness.

“How do you know? Have you even tried?”

“No, I haven’t tried because I’m not gay!”

“Well, how can you know that if you haven’t even tried? Always telling me to try all these weird, gross berries—berries that you don’t even recognize, I might add—and you won’t even try this once.” As the right head spoke, the left’s maw twisted into a snarl, drool dripping from his exposed teeth as he fought back the urge to perform an impromptu pharyngectomy. 

“No.” The left head’s voice was low and quiet now, but filled with plenty of menace, enough to make the fur on the back of the right head’s neck stand up. “This is my body just as much as yours, and if you try to let some hulking beast have his way with it, then it’ll be the last thing you ever do with it.”

The right head almost seemed cowed by the threat, before letting out a snort. “Bluster. Always bluster. Whatever, we’ll see.” With that, he looked away, not wanting to hear another word on the matter. The left head was in complete agreement, staring straight ahead while simmering with rage.

They wandered like that for some time, putting one foot in front of the other while refusing to look at each other, an impressive feat when you’re both connected to the same body. Eventually, though, something stopped them. An odd scent on the wind, something familiar that the left head couldn’t quite place. All he knew was that he didn’t like it. 

He tried to turn away from it, but the right side of his body tried to turn towards it at the same time, and they stumbled forward awkwardly while stepping on each other’s feet. They looked at each other for the first time in what had to be half an hour, shooting scowls at each other that neither of them could see. The right head was stubborn, and the left head knew it. It was perhaps his only strength. If he tried to oppose him, then they’d be here all day. With a sigh, he relented, and Zweilous moved towards the scent.

As the smell grew in intensity, the left head grew more and more anxious. It was definitely from another Pokémon, he’d figured out that much, but he still wasn’t sure what kind. Still, if his counterpart wanted anywhere near it, then it was all but assured that it wasn’t something good. Unfortunately, the right head shared none of his trepidation, sniffing loudly at the air and keeping them on a beeline straight towards its source.

Soon, they heard a sound on the edge of their hearing, coming from the same direction as the scent. It sounded fleshy, and in his experience, nothing good ever came from something that sounded fleshy. His desire to turn back only grew, but the right head was dead set on moving forward, looking straight ahead with nostrils flaring like a ‘mon possessed.

It didn’t take them long to find it. They crept up towards the noise, safely hidden in a bush. Zweilous’ heads poked out of the foliage towards it, and immediately, the stink hit them. It was far more powerful here than it had been on the wind, and the left head broke out into a sweat as he recognized what it was: musk. From the fast, wet sliding noises coming from ahead, interspersed with deep, masculine grunts, it wasn’t hard to tell what it was from.

“Pangoro,” Zweilous whispered, his left head with a tone of dread and his right with barely contained excitement.

“Let’s go,” the left head said, hoping that just this once he could convince the other of the correct course of action, “nothing for us here.”

“But I want that one!”

“Want him for wha…” He trailed off mid-sentence, remembering their argument and realising exactly what the right head wanted him for. Anger and outright fear flooded his mind in equal measure, and it took immense effort to keep his voice at a whisper. “No. No. No. No. We are not doing that. We are leaving, right now.”

“Oh, come on, what’s the big deal?”

“You mean aside from me not being gay? Well, first of all, he’s twice our size and we have no idea who he is.”

“Oh, and you’re not even gonna talk to him because of that?” the right head tutted, shaking his head. “No wonder you have no friends.”

“I always thought it was more because of my hideous, incredibly vocal deformity.”

“Oh, I’m a deformity now, am I? Big talk, considering I was here first!”

“What!” the left head said, voice rearing up to what was almost a yell before dropping back down to a whisper. “You most certainly were not!”

“You know I can hear you two, right?” Both of them stopped dead in their tracks, words dying on their tongues. The voice had come from in front of them, deep and rumbling, most certainly not either of theirs. They’d been so caught up in their argument that they hadn’t even noticed the Pangoro’s approach. The left head shrank back into the bush, mouth working silently as he tried to formulate a response.

“Hey, wanna fuck me?” the right head asked, facing the Pangoro without a hint of fear.

“No!” the left head screamed from inside the bush, thrashing about and rustling the leaves. “No! No! No!”

“Don’t mind him, he’s shy,” the right head said, gesturing towards his shrieking companion. “He’s totally up for it.”

“I’m not shy, you dick, I’m not gay!” 

Pangoro watched Zweilous argue with itself, simultaneously calm and on the verge of biting its own throat out. He stroked his chin with one paw, pondering what action he should take. One of them was definitely up for some fun, but the other seemed like he’d be sprinting away at full speed if given half a chance. Did consent still count if you only had half of the person on board? Probably not. Then again, he did still have an erection…

“Alright,” Pangoro said, shrugging.

“Perfect!” Zweilous’ right head said, before leaping forward with the half of the body he had control over. Without the coordination of the other half, he tumbled onto the grass, landing flat on his belly. “Quick, grab my back legs!” Bemused, Pangoro did so, right paw wrapping around a leg that rested peaceably in his grasp while his left kept a firm grip on the leg that was currently kicking and bucking for dear life.

Scraping frantically on the grass with his one free claw, Zweilous’ left side began to become desperate. This was going to happen. This enormous Pangoro was gonna have his way with him, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He let out a shriek, starting to shake as he tried to come up with a way to escape the inevitable.

“Oh, calm down, you big baby,” the right head said, both amused and annoyed at his left side’s antics. “S’not like the world’s gonna end if you get reamed one time.”

Before he could respond, Pangoro pulled his legs apart, shoving his snout against the base of Zweilous’ stubby tail. Zweilous stiffened at the feeling of that cold nose pressing up against him, then gave out a double-headed moan as he felt a tongue dragged firmly across his tailhole.

“W-what’s he doing? Make him stooOOooP!” Zweilous’ left head said, voice quavering. Even though he knew he was completely, utterly straight, it still felt good. Why did it feel good? Probably his right head’s enjoyment crossing over somehow. After all, there was no way he would enjoy something like this himself. Never.

“Naaah,” his right head replied, head resting on the ground with a happy smile plastered across his face. They could both feel their shared shaft starting to poke out of its slit, coaxed out by Pangoro’s skilled tongue. “We aren’t even at the good part yet.”

He was about to ask what part of this was supposed to be good, but he was cut off by the feeling of Pangoro’s snout mashing more insistently against his rear, tongue slipping inside of him. A sharp yip forced its way out of him, while the head on his right giving a pleasured sigh instead, leg kicking slightly in pleasure. 

“Nngh, this is gross,” the left head murmured, panting hotly in spite of himself. And it was true, the Pangoro’s muzzle digging into him, lapping away at his insides, was the grossest thing he could thing of! But despite that, his cock had dropped faster than ever before, the bright pink brought into stark contrast against the dark blue of his underbelly.

“Oh, come on, stop lying,” his right head said, letting out little noises of pleasure as the bear slid even further into him. “I know you’re enjoying this just as much as I am.”

“No, I—aah—I hate it!” He clenched his teeth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a moan as Pangoro’s tongue dragged across his prostate. His dick throbbed powerfully in response, drooling a stream of precum along his underside. 

“Hmph,” Pangoro grunted, finally pulling his snout out from Zweilous’ rear, “maybe you’ll hate this less, then.” Lowering Zweilous’ hindlegs to hip level, Pangoro pressed forward, grinding his uncut shaft against his entrance. It was already slathered in precum from his interrupted masturbation session, and Zweilous could feel it smear across his backside.

“Oh, I think I will,” the right head lilted, pushing back as best he could with the half of the body he controlled.

“I won’t!” Zweilous’ left head whined, scraping frantically at the ground with his claws, kicking up clumps of dirt and grass. “Please, go back to the tongue thing!” Pangoro’s only response was a short puff of air through his nostrils, before he pulled back his hips to align the tip of his cock with his tailhole and pushed forward.

Zweilous let out two moans as he was penetrated, his right head’s betraying only a hint of discomfort, while his left head’s was more akin to a barely stifled scream. Pangoro paid no attention to either of them, continuing to work his way into the two-headed Pokémon, foreskin rolling back from his head and bunching up around his entrance.

The stretch was immense. Zweilous had never taken anything back there before, and being broken in by a panda a good two feet taller than him was proving to be a brutal experience. Even the right head was clenching his jaw against the pain as he was slowly pried open, but he didn’t say a word in protest, only letting out little grunts and whines. He didn’t get it. What did he hope to get out of this?

As if answering his unspoken question, Pangoro thrust forward, the bear’s glans bashing against his prostate. Zweilous’ heads yipped, cock bouncing against their belly and shooting out a rope of pre. It was still uncomfortable, certainly, but now the constant pressure of the bear against his insides was starting to feel good. 

“Stooop,” the left head mewled. He hated it. He also liked it. That only made him hate it more.

“Keep going,” the right head countered, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Pangoro knew which one of them he’d rather listen to. Shifting his grip from Zweilous’ legs to his sides, Pangoro slammed his hips forward, pulling the Pokémon beneath him backwards into his thrust. A smirk formed on his face at the noises that Zweilous made in response, the right head’s sounds growing steadily more pleasured, while the left head shifted from pained groaning to involuntary squeaks and moans. He wasn’t sure which he liked more.

“I don’t like this,” the left head whispered between shallow, panting breaths. Pangoro was big. Whenever he bottomed out inside him, he could feel it in his stomach, and feel his balls slap against the base of his slit. Mind drifting, he thought about what those balls were going to be filling him with. And he definitely didn’t like it.

“I don’t like this.” Pangoro reared back and then surged back into him, the bear’s precum oozing out of him and running down across his shaft to mix with his own. Breathing in shakily, he wondered how much of the stuff Pangoro had pumped into him already. Probably a lot, he was a big, strong Pokémon. A potent, virile Pokémon.

“I don’t li—” His muttering was interrupted by the feeling of a snout suddenly pressing up against his, breath hot against his maw. He let out a slight gasp of surprise, and the right head quickly took advantage, forcing his tongue into the other’s open mouth.

Now, this was too far! The left head tried to pull away, but there was only so far his neck could reach, and the other head followed every move he made. Twisting left and right, he’d almost managed to free himself when Pangoro’s pace suddenly doubled, accompanied by the slap of a paw on his flank. The left head stiffened up and let out a yelp at the spank, and the right head took full advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration, forcing his mouth open and twisting his tongue around his own.

He put up a token struggle, but his heart wasn’t in it. The feeling of Pangoro’s restless pounding, milking precum out of him until he was covered in his own juices, paws wrapped tightly around his sides… it made it hard to think, to say the least. To his muddled mind, even the stretching that was so painful at the start of all this was starting to feel good, in its own strange way. It was hard to put up resistance when he was being forced to feel all these things.

Letting out a whimper, his tongue tentatively crept into the right head’s mouth, unsure. Jumping on the show of willingness, however small, the right head redoubled his efforts. He tugged the other head’s tongue into his mouth, nibbling at the left head’s lip with his fangs. Behind them, Pangoro let out a chuckle, hammering into them even faster.

Pulling back from the kiss, the right head smiled at the other’s gasps for air, his own breathing only slightly more controlled. 

“I’m close,” the left head said, mixed saliva dripping down his chin. Between his legs, his shaft twitched over and over, right on the verge of orgasm from nothing more than Pangoro’s pounding.

“I know,” the right head replied. Oh, right, same body. He’d forgot. Before he could embarrass himself further, the right head surged forward for another kiss, which he made no effort to dodge.

The feeling of that tongue forcing its way into his mouth was enough to push him over the edge. Both of them let out a moan into each other’s mouths as their cock throbbed powerfully between their legs, adding streaks of white to the mess of pre already coating their belly. Shaking from the strength of their orgasm, Zweilous clamped down around Pangoro, milking him for his seed.

Letting out a roar, Pangoro slammed himself forward into the shivering Pokémon, balls pulling up against his body. They could feel his dick pulse once, twice, then their insides flooded with warmth as he erupted inside of them. 

The left head exhaled through his nose, a feeling of satisfaction swelling in him, though he wasn’t sure from what. An odd thought popped into his mind. Was this what it felt like to serve a superior Pokémon? He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but it lingered, images of being used and filled by stronger Pokémon flitting around his head as he spurted the last of his load onto his stomach.

Pulling free of Zweilous with a shlorp, Pangoro lowered him gently to the ground. He laid there, cum leaking from his rear, the image of a thoroughly used bitch. Pangoro stepped back, admiring his handiwork, and could hear the two heads talking quietly between themselves.

“So, did you like it?”

“We are never doing this again.”

“That wasn’t an answer!”

“Shut up before I bite you.”

“You always say that. When’s the last time you’ve actually done it, huh?”

“You’d better watch your tongue before someone cuts it out!”

“You didn’t seem to have any problem with my tongue five seconds ago, did you?”

Their bickering gradually increased in volume until they were practically yelling at each other, then until they were screaming, heads flailing and jaws snapping always just short of the other’s neck. The presence of the Pangoro had already been forgotten. Shaking his head, the bear turned and walked off into the trees, leaving the two to their lover’s quarrel.