CYOA 2 – To The Victor Go The Spoils – Chapter 2: Forest Encounters (Patreon)

Previously: Hanzo is a fresh Pokémon trainer who started his journey on the wrong foot. Not only is he sent out by his gym leader father, but his younger brother as well. To top it all off, his new Pokémon is still a baby and doesn't really know any moves. Things can only go up from here, right?

warnings: stink kink; (angry?) masturbation

----

The quiet of the forest is a balm on Hanzo’s nerves. The first few hours he listens with apprehension whether he will hear Genji somewhere having a… a rave or something right in the middle of the trees – but whichever way he has taken, Hanzo can’t hear or see anything of him or anybody else for that matter.

He has left Ponyta out of the ball to be able to watch it some and get an idea of what to do with it.

It seems willing enough to be in his general presence, at least. Sometimes it runs ahead to check out the path, then falls behind again because it stops to investigate the bark of a tree or sniff at the ground. It seems to be all over the place, which is to be expected. It’s young enough to probably still need to work out its own nature.

They don’t meet any other trainers, which is just fine with Hanzo for the moment. They first need to figure out what Ponyta can and can’t do. It sorely needs more battle experience under its belt – he doesn’t think he could stomach another disastrous loss like the last.

Eventually he realizes that sticking to the path won’t do them any good, so he whistles to Ponyta and veers off into the forest proper. Though they haven’t met anyone yet, Viridian Forest is usually busy enough that any and all Pokémon have moved deeper into the secure undergrowth.

“Alright. You can do this,” he whispers to himself. He realizes he must have been frowning severely the whole time because he suddenly becomes aware of the ache of his face. He sighs, rubbing his cheeks and up over his forehead – when Ponyta neighs shrill and unpleasant.

He whirls around… and sees their first wild encounter. A Caterpie slowly making its way down the trunk of a tree, stopping every now and then to eye them warily.

Perfect. Time to net Ponyta its first win.

.o.

Hanzo’s journey might have come off to a very rocky start, but as the line of defeated Wurmple and Caterpie grows longer behind them, he starts to feel a bit more secure in his skin again. Ponyta seems to feel the same way: it is strutting ahead of him, looking rather pleased with itself.

They come across a small pond at which he calls for a stop. He gets out his one-man-tent and starts to get ready for a night outside. The sun is only starting to lower but he feels like they’ve earned themselves a break. He also wants to see whether Ponyta can actually use fire attacks yet… it would shape a lot of their strategy for any upcoming fights.

However, as he calls it over, Ponyta just… ignores him. It stays right where it is at the edge of the pond, sniffing around the grass. He calls again, and he knows it heard him as it turns its ear in his direction… but it keeps ignoring him.

Hanzo frowns and takes another step toward it. “Ponyta!”

Ponyta turns around a little, just briefly glancing at him before it’s whole body suddenly snaps around and it is staring at something – just behind Hanzo.

The hairs on the back of Hanzo’s neck prickle as they stand up. He slowly turns around, insides squeezing tightly when he spots the large shadow between the trees. How could something this massive have snuck up on them without them hearing it? What kind of Pokémon was it? Viridian Forest’s wildlife didn’t expand beyond a Beedril or Dustox…

He moves a little, positioning himself in front of Ponyta without really thinking about it as he stares the shadow down, skin prickling and breath coming in fast bursts – until the thing moves closer and the darkness lifts somewhat to expose the hulking monster for what it is: a traveller riding on the back of a Mudsdale.

Hanzo stares at them, mute. He can’t decide whether to be relieved that they aren’t attacked by a wild Pokémon of that size, or whether he should be furious with the scare. Hanzo Shimada, heir of the honorable Hanamura gym, does not get scared.

The Mudsdale is huge. He’s never seen one that size before – but its droopy eyes look docile as it slowly makes its way closer. Each step vibrates through the forest floor (how have they not noticed them?!); and by the way Ponyta starts to dance nervously behind him, it too can feel the ground shaking.

Hanzo has to shield his eyes from low angled rays of the sun peeking through the canopy of trees as he peers up at the rider. Against the sunset’s glare he can only make out a hat and two eyes roughly as docile as the Pokémon’s.

There’s a long silence stretching between them all as they mutely stare at each other. Hanzo’s back becomes progressively warmer until he realizes that Ponyta has come close enough to basically breathe into his ear as it peers at the newcomers.

He almost startles enough to jump when the stranger suddenly talks in a low baritone.

“Howdy there. Didn’t wanna scare you an’ your critter. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Hanzo bristles despite the fact that the slowly drawling voice had been clearly friendly. How dare he.

“Neither me nor my Pokémon are scared,” he replies with disdain. The man on top the tall horse Pokémon pauses, then moves to smoothly slide down its back, booted feet hitting the ground with a thick thud and spurs jangling annoyingly.

It irks Hanzo that the stranger remains rather tall even unseated from the hulking Mudsdale.

He tips his hat at him like a dandy. Hanzo has no idea how old the man is; he still can’t quite make out his face.

“‘Course you weren’t. My apologies. Still... I can see that ye put up camp here. Didn’t wanna intrude. But y’ see, Mudsdale here, an’ I… we were mighty thirsty. Jus’ been lookin’ for a drink.”

He finally takes his hat off, holding it to his chest as he speaks. Hanzo still can’t make out how old he is supposed to be; he’s got a scruffy beard and tousled brown hair that looks in dire need of a wash.

In fact, he stinks a little bit, Hanzo notes when he takes a step toward him and thrusts a hand at his chest.

“I’ll be outta your hair in a sec. My name’s…” he pauses when his eyes move to just behind Hanzo. His hand falls down without Hanzo ever having touched the filthy skin, eyes going wide just like his mouth which is stretched into a huge grin.

“Well I’ll be. A shiny Ponyta! Wouldja lookat that. Don’t see that often – especially round these parts. Think the only people handlin’ some fire types are the Shimadas from Hanamura gym. It’s yours, ain’t it? What a darlin’. Beautiful.”

Hanzo just stares at the stranger as he talks, seemingly oblivious to the festering antagony radiating off of him. He steps around Hanzo, reaching out and touching Ponyta’s neck just like that.

He whistles through his front teeth (which Hanzo had uncharitably noted were crooked as well) and croons: “Oh, ye’re a little one, aren’t’cha? Not even defendin’ yourself from strangers? Oh, oh, oh that won’t do at all. Ya need to be nice and attentive so ya can take good care of yer trainer. ‘Specially a li’l beaut like you. Oh, but you are gorgeous, aren’t you?”

As he talks, he drags his large paw of a hand all over Ponyta’s shiny coat, fingers sliding into its fiery blue mane with wonder and excitement on his face.

Hanzo’s mood plummets further the more the stranger speaks. He is aware of the ground vibrating as the Mudsdale wanders off toward the little pond to slake its thirst while its master keeps belittling Hanzo and his Pokékmon.

Ponyta, as if not understanding what this man is saying – or not caring about it – presses its forehead against the stranger’s solar plexus while he rubs both hands along its neck.

Just as he takes another breath to probably start up another monologue, Hanzo interrupts him sharply.

“So you thought it would burn you? Why would you touch it, then?”

The guy eyes him as if he’s the weird one.

“It’s a good boy, that’s why. An’ I don’t mind gettin’ burned a bit.”

At that, he thrusts his left arm at Hanzo, shoving up the sleeve of his flannel to show him a remarkably mangled forearm. Hanzo has no idea what he’s looking at; it could be burn marks just as much as scars from getting mauled.

He must have pulled a face because the stranger grins ruefully and shoves his sleeve back down.

“Sorry ‘bout that...” He eyes Hanzo again, giving him such a frankly… lewd once-over, that he gets the weird urge to cover himself up. The stranger whistles through his teeth again, finally putting his hat back on. “Damn, darlin’. I didn’t even notice – but ye’re quite the beaut yourself, ain’t’cha? S’pose it makes sense… you havin’ such a gorgeous Pokémon an’ all…” He reaches out with one of those broad, dirty hands as if intent on touching Hanzo just as he has been touching Ponyta.

Bristling (and flushing), Hanzo takes a step back and jerks his head toward the pond.

“You wanted to drink and be on your way.”

The man pauses and scratches through his badly kept beard. He probably has fleas on top of it all. “Hmm that’s true.”

He looks at Hanzo again, this time with a bit more curious scrutiny before he shrugs and moves toward the pond where his Mudsdale has been staring into the sky as if it had about a thought a minute. He has a swagger in his step that annoys Hanzo to no end.

Everything about this man annoys Hanzo to no end.

He stands there stiffly and watches as Ponyta wanders over to the guy, lipping at the back pocket of his jeans while he is crouched down and scoops water to his mouth.

After a moment he seems to notice and chuckles, reaching in and offering it a cube of some Pokémon treat.

Hanzo has a twitch to his eye now and is stomping over, possessively placing his hand on Ponyta’s back.

“You wanted to be on your way,” he reiterates, barely getting the words out through grit teeth.

The stranger looks surprised and slowly stands.

“Yeah…” he says slowly, obviously confused about Hanzo’s attitude. He stares at the both of them for a moment longer before he shrugs one shoulder and turns toward Mudsdale.

Using the Pokémon’s outstretched front leg as a step, he swings himself up onto his back with surprising ease, and grabs on to the leads there.

“Tell ya what. I got a little farm on Route 12. Nothin’ big or fancy; mostly Skiddo for the kids and travellers to ride. But I do a bit of trainin’ there, too. Why don’t you an’ Ponyta there pay it a little visit if you’re in the area? If I’m there, I’d be happy to give ya a tip or two for how to raise ‘em horse Pokémon.”

He pats Mudsdale’s neck as if to say ‘like this one’.

Hanzo’s mouth goes flat.

“Thank you. But I can train my own Pokémon,” he says with barely concealed disgust.

The stranger takes this in stride like he has all of Hanzo’s other insults. He tips his hat at them.

“Sure thing, darlin’. But ye’re more than welcome to come by anyway. I’d love to see a pretty face like your’s again.”

Hanzo can’t see his face again but he’s pretty sure he is grinning again.

The stranger clicks his tongue and lightly pushes his calfs against Mudsdale’s sides. The Pokémon reacts with a long huff. Hanzo can feel the heat of its breath as it streams out of those large nostrils. Without another sound, the large Pokémon starts to move, making its way into the tree line while its trainer gives Hanzo a jaunty little wave.

Hanzo slowly relaxes his hands. He had been balling them into trembling fists.

What a disgusting and obnoxious individual.

.o.

It had been a… long day. Ponyta already looks ready to pass out as it nestled down next to the fire and put its nose to the ground.

Hanzo putters around the little camp space he has made, just letting all the stuff that happened, from his last conversation with his father to his encounter with this man, go through his head as he carefully stacks together the dishes he and his Pokémon had used and puts them back into his backpack.

Annoying. It all had been… very, very annoying. He had been caught on the wrong foot again and again. Had he handled the situations with grace? … No. Probably not. He feels… ashamed, which is not a good way to end his first day as a fully fledged trainer.

He squats at the fire for a moment, just letting the quiet of the forest and the night finally settle over him. His eyes move toward Ponyta. It has tucked its legs beneath its body, the flaming blue mane and tail having shrunk to almost nothing as it sinks deeper into sleep.

Truly… having a shiny as his first Pokémon was extraordinary, wasn’t it?

Hanzo reaches over, gently placing his fingertips against Ponyta’s rump – and immediately jerks it back when it startles out of its sleep, fire igniting in a burst and giving him a slight burn.

It blinks at him owlishly.

Pressing his lips together, he tucks his hand behind his back.

“Excuse me. I just… wanted to brush a leaf off of you,” he lies.

Ponyta stares at him a moment longer with eyes that seem too large for its face, then slowly settles down again – though Hanzo can tell it is still paying attention to him as its ear is swivelled in his direction.

Chagrined, and wanting to let his Pokémon come to sleep, he moves and crawls into his one-man-tent.

It only figured that Ponyta would trust him less than it trusted his brother… or a stranger that came just to tell him how bad he is at what he is doing.

He lies on his side, staring at the pink of his fingertips where Ponyta’s fire slightly singed him. It hadn’t burned his brother. Or this man on his huge Mudsdale.

It only burned him.

Curling his fingers slowly into his fist, Hanzo stares at the spot of bright red light – and the smaller spec of blue right next to it, shining through the thin wall of his tent.

He will have to do better. He will have to become a trainer that Ponyta can trust in. He should roll with the punches like he has learned to do, and not be thrown off this badly just by meeting strangers.

One stranger. One stranger that he can’t seem to get out of his head now that everything has settled down and the quiet night is trying to lull him into sleep.

He should give in to it. He really should. But his blood is still boiling, and his body has a different plan.

Hanzo clenches his eyes closed and rolls half on his front in an effort to ignore his budding erection. Of course that only adds some much needed pressure to his cock. He bites the tip of his tongue, burying his head against his arms.

His hips feel tight, cock gently pulsing and teasing him into starting to rut a little against his sleeping bag.

Damn… just… fuck. Okay… just quick… it’ll help me sleep anyway.

He squirms a hand down, pinching his nipple as he slides past it, hips still slowly curling and dragging his hardening cock against the insides of his shorts and the hard ground underneath. He’s never jerked off in a tent before. Or… anywhere outside his bed, really.

He hadn’t thought it would be this… exciting.

His fingers fumble with the elastic band of his shorts before he manages to slip them inside where it is already humid and hot. His cock all but leaps into his palm.

Hanzo’s mouth opens, panting into the crook of his arm as he tries to keep his noise down and not make a fool of himself. Who knew what traveller could come by? Maybe even the stranger from before with his unkempt exterior and deep, rolling voice…

His cock jerks in his fist, balls feeling impossibly tender as he restlessly shifts his legs to try and get as much sensation as he can.

Hanzo pinches the tip of his cock, brows twitching into a stormy frown as the pleasure-pain zaps through his body. When he turns his head just so, nose tucking against his own armpit, he can almost imagine that he smells the nasty stranger again. The thick odor of sweat and dirt that had clung to him and nearly choked Hanzo earlier.

What a… what a disgusting man. He just knew that the last time this oaf had used water for anything other than drinking must have been weeks ago. Nasty. Putrid.

Hanzo pants into his own armpit, nearly huffing his own scent of sweat emanating from him as he awkwardly fucks his hand and the bottom of his sleeping bag.

He is trying to contain the mess of dribbling pre-cum to the confines of his underwear and the cup of his palm, but everything is slippery and feverishly hot and making it so difficult to keep things tidy and neat.

In his ears he still hears the low, rolling voice. How he belittled him and his Pokémon. It gets his blood boiling just thinking of it… His cock spasms in his hand, the pleasure pain creeping up into his abdomen like the sensation of a pulled muscle. It leaves him with the same lowkey nausea but weirdly enough only feeds the flames that are spreading through his body and making thinking clearly really hard.

Hanzo buries his face into the crook of his arm to give himself a reprieve, but his brain is right there with him and reminds him of stuff that never happened. Like how this unwashed stranger had pinned him against a tree and all but shoved his face into his sweaty armpit until he damn near suffocated on his stink…

Or how he very definitely had kissed him and gave him a second degree burn just from the drag of his lice riddled beard against his face…

Hanzo shakes his head, a reedy whine trembling out from his throat. His hips have started pumping now, fucking his hand against the ground. There’s just enough slick to keep the chafe at a minimum, but he does miss his very expensive toys that he has left at home… Silky fleshlights that could suckle his cock and warm it at the same time while he had one of his rare jerk-off sessions-

In his head, Hanzo’s fantasies and memories start to merge together. From getting all but assaulted by this crude bastard to the feeling of the earth shaking with every single step of his stupid Mudsdale… it has Hanzo’s nipples tingling and sensitive, his balls drawn up tight to his body and toes curling until they are cramping.

He can only just about muffle his cry of release in the crook of his elbow when he finally comes.

He tries to catch most of the mess in his palm, but he sits a good ten minutes there wiping his sleeping bag clean anyway…

And blaming the stinking stranger for it all the way.

Next Chapter: Hanzo and Ponyta make it through the forest and arrive in Goldenrod City. They are not the first to make it there, though… Genji has already wrapped the place around his finger. And what is happening in the whirlpool?!