[Exclusive] Swift wants to ruin his prized costume. (Patreon)

[Story]

Absol was getting ready a little late in the locker room reserved for Unite Battle players.

Lockers are unique to each player, but his locker is neat and tidy, with only the bare essentials. This reflects his nervous and meticulous nature. Therefore, he was not happy to share the locker room with male who were the opposite of his personality. Even now, the room is filled with the smell of cool spray that someone must have used. Surprisingly, Greninja and Decidueye, with whom he has a relatively good rapport, do not mind this kind of thing.

But that's the way it always is. He puts on his freshly cleaned dark suit, which is hanging in his locker, and puts on his shiny accessories.

It is his favorite and prized costume. It's also moderately expensive. It wasn't a special occasion this time, but he wears it from time to time because it makes him feel more relaxed.

He spritzed on the perfume he had recently begun to study, closed his locker, and went out into the hallway.

When the team gathered, he planned to have another strategy meeting before the match. He ruminates in his mind the strategies he has analyzed based on the characteristics of his team and the other team's record. Garchomp and Machamp, who had teamed up with him often since the early days, would not listen to him as usual and would do as they pleased, so the other members of the team would be the key to the strategy.

On the ceiling of the corridor, dimmed by the blocked sunlight, Absol sensed a presence.

He don't have to look to know who it is. He's known him for a long time, though he's not happy about it.

From the ceiling comes the sound of mucus rubbing against each other. The silhouette of Lycanroc's head is slightly visible in the darkness, but the shape of the body hidden behind it and the length and number of its legs are clearly an oddly shaped monster, and he stops looking any further.

Swift, a monster with too much time on his hands during the day, was about to engage in his usual idle chatter. Unfortunately, Absol was too busy to talk to him, so he interrupted him and turned to walk away.

And by the time he realized that the sound of mucus was approaching, his body had already been entangled by the tentacles and taken away to the shadows of the corridor.

The four legs of the Absol were bound by tentacles and fixed in an upright position. Naturally, he could not shake them off by force.

He wondered if his attitude had angered Swift, but Swift seemed as optimistic and no-nonsense as ever. His occasional moods of a monster without reason, merely mimicking the appearance of a Pokémon, were extremely horrifying. In comparison, a Pokémon imitation that is merely loyal to its desires is still better than a Pokémon.

"Let me help you with your pre-game nerves."

Swift said, and then she began to grope Absol's lower body with her tentacles over his dark suit. He stroked the inside of her thighs and buttocks, and carefully slid it over the midline between her lower abdomen and the base of her tail, devising his movements as he did so. 

Instead of giving up his resistance, Absol begged him not to hurt the dark suit alone. Excited by the blush on his face and the glare on his face, Swift agreed. 

Swift's tentacles slipped inside through the crack in his dark suit pants and played directly on his sensitive zone. One of the tentacles poked at his tail hole, pushing in and penetrating inside. He only moaned under the stimulation, but his hole continued to contract violently as if it were struggling. 

The discomfort of the tentacles writhing inside his pants was considerable, but he had to endure it for now. Eventually his crotch swelled and his penis, faithful to his sexual pleasure and desire, emerged from its sheath. It antagonized the resistance of the fitted dark suit's fabric, and as a result, its shape stood out clearly from the surface of the pants. 

It took less than five minutes for Absol to approach his limit. Not only was he a quick cummer by nature, but Swift was already familiar with Absol's body. If anything, five minutes was a lot of time to rush him. If Swift really wanted to, 30 seconds would be enough to make him cum. 

But Swift had no intention of removing Absol's clothes. 

Absol was uncomfortable with this, but soon came to a frightening imagination. 

He tried to get Swift to interrupt him, but his pride and shame held him back. He could never have made the pathetic plea to "Get me naked or at least take off my pants before I cum". So he thought of an alternative excuse. 

'Interrupt now. There's no more time before the match." He gave a similar reason under his breath. I see. That's too bad," Swift said. Absol was relieved. 

But with the words, "Well, I'll get it over with right away." With these words, Swift put her tentacles on Absol's knots. 

Absol's eyes widened, and any words he tried to say were drowned out by gasps of pleasure and despair. 

Swift stimulated the underside of the tip of Absol's penis with fine movements while holding the knots. He stroked the tentacles entwined throughout his penis at the pace that Absol liked. The tentacles, which had been working impatiently at his tail hole, focused on his weak spot and violated it. 

Absol's legs twitched and seemed about to collapse, and he covered his mouth with one paw, desperately suppressing the urge to scream out. 

His penis swelled to its limit. The tip of the cloth is slowly stained with pre-cum. 

His voice, demanding an interruption, echoes hollowly. Swift didn't stop when I did, and neither did his physiology. 

Eventually his reproductive organs broke his patience. Once his patience broke, the ejaculation did not stop. A warm, sloshing, uncomfortable sensation in his pants was transmitted from his penis, and the semen seeping out of the tip of the cloth flooded the hallway floor. 

His face had long since become soggy with tears, snot, and saliva. He was breathing hard, and his head and face were so hot that they seemed to steam. 

Swift's tentacles played with his sensitive areas until his ejaculation was complete. The tentacles that writhed between his legs made an unpleasant squishing sound as they tangled with the pool of semen in his pants. Finally, Swift deliberately stroking the midline from his tail hole to his groin, pulled the tentacle out of his pants.

Meanwhile, Absol was left to his own devices, his body shaking with various emotions and sensations.

Swift was no longer there. More precisely, he was observing Absol, out of sight, sound, and smell. It was not so much that his conscience kicked in, but more because he felt that if he agitated him any further, he would really be cut off. Of course, his friendship with Absol had been a Swift decision from the very beginning. 

Swift gazed at Absol's face. Why is it that the faces of those whose self-esteem has been injured are so special? They were faces of anger, shame, despair, and a whirlwind of other emotions too numerous to mention.  Their thoughts then cling back to the way they were before their self-esteem was damaged, and when they compare themselves to their current miserable self, they find themselves in a negative spiral of being beaten down again. Swift loved it like a work of art. 

There are many kinds of self-esteem wounds. Swift has tried everything in his endless time and history. And his favorite for the last few hundred years or so has been the sexual way. 

As Swift looked off of Absol's wobbly back as he walked, he thought idly about how he would address him the next time he saw him.

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This is a Doodle I brushed up in the last week or so to try out a new brush based on a sketch I did a few months ago. I have been looking for a brush that is both rough and comfortable to use, and this one is very responsive. The canvas-like texture adds gorgeousness to the same application, and the right amount of roughness and density added to it is a touch I like. I'm happy with the finished product this time around.