Pokemon Ecchi Adventures, Part 9

The chattering between the Clue Corporation, Mari, and the inn owners drifted up the stairs.

Cecelia couldn’t make out what they were saying, and she didn’t care. She shuffled out of her room on the second floor. The backup generator had turned on, but the lights still flickered with each thunder crash. The pouring rain against the roof was a constant, muffled roar.

Martha’s shawl had been replaced with a pair of light cotton shorts. A towel was slung over Cecelia’s shivering shoulders. She had tried to scrape the mud from her legs, but their long lengths were still stained with brown smears. Her pokéballs had been placed, safe and sound, on the nightstand in her room.

Exhausted, Cecelia dragged herself through the halls of the inn’s second floor.

“Where did they say the showers were?” she muttered to herself.

She opened up what she thought was the right door, squinting in the flickering hall lights. Inside, a few metal benches were bolted to the linoleum floor. A long wall covered in rusty lockers extended three quarters of the way through the length of the room, separating it into a changing area and a shower area with an open “doorway” between the two. Through the opening, Cecelia could glimpse spartan, conical shower heads pointing out of the walls of the shower area. No stalls and barely any lighting.

With a sigh, she trudged through the doorway, not realizing until she was on the other side the hissing spraying sound of a running shower head.

“OH!” she gasped. “OH SHIT!”

A naked Jasper stood under a shower head. Hissing, steaming, warm water enveloped his naked body. He was facing her, a quizzical eyebrow raised. His stubbled lips pressed tight together in an annoyed line. Soapy water cascaded off his perfect form, down his broad chest and across his toned abs. His dick, five inches flaccid, dangled against his relaxed, hanging balls. His legs and arms were swelling, impossible curves of muscle, flexing as he rubbed a bar of soap across his body, gripping the bar in his long, strong, knotted fingers. His entire body seemed to glow with soft blondish body hair, an aura surrounding him like the steam swirling and tickling his silhouette.

“I think you have the wrong showers,” he said, flatly.

Cecelia swallowed hard. Her knees knocked together. Warm, twitching need spread through her. Slickness formed, threatening to visually dampen the thin cotton shorts, no panties to protect her.

“I’m so, so sorry…” she said, but her eyes were drawn downward, staring at Jasper’s crotch, the fascinating shape of his dick and balls. The slight leftward angle of his circumcised cock. She swallowed hard. Jasper’s penis was growing, slowly, bobbing upward, stiffening and swelling under her eyes.

Jasper grabbed a towel from a hook in the wall. His expression was the same, but a redness was forming around his ears and cheeks. He put the towel stubbornly, daringly around his shoulders and walked toward her, his cock rising, pointing toward her.

Cecelia practically jumped out of the way of the advancing naked man. There wasn’t much of a height difference between them, but the broadness of his shoulders and Cecelia’s hunched over, nervous body made him seem gigantic.

“Don’t worry about it. The water is still warm,” he said, walking past her.

Cecelia’s jaw seized up. Her neck became taut. Her body seized up, trying not to move at all. She summoned all of her will and failed almost instantly.

Her head whipped around, to watch Jasper leave. Her twitching hands went to her mouth. The muscular shape and volume of his asscheeks combined with the broadness of his body even put Mari’s fantastic ass to shame.

“Horny bitch,” Jasper muttered, venomous. Not needing to turn around, he could feel her eyes violently drilling into his ass. Cecelia whirled back around and lay flat, gasping against the inside wall of the shower area. Her hand went to her chest, fingertips accidentally rubbing across erect, prodding nipples. Her lips trembled and her eyes watered with shame and humiliation. It had been a very long and embarrassing day.

She stumbled over to the still running showerhead, and, with all her clothes on, defeatedly stepped into the water. She leaned forward and her forehead CLUNKED against the wall in utter shame. She let the water wash over her red, embarrassed face.

***

Cecelia, a zombie, walked back to her room, but clean and wearing a pair of comfy pajama pants and a sweater.

She opened the door and flopped face-first onto the ugly floral comforter. She just lay there, flat against the bed, her face breathing in fabric.

“You’re going to suffocate like that.”

Cecelia jumped, recoiling into a little panic ball like a cat.

Mari was pacing around the room, brushing her hair. Her trademark one-piece swimsuit was replaced with plaid, long-sleeved pajamas.

“Please don’t tell me I have the wrong room,” Cecelia said. Her eyes turned, checking to see that her pokéballs were still resting on the bedside table.

“What? No, I got us the one room,” Mari said. “I thought we could save some money this way. We need to ration our funds until Los Lobos. You don’t mind sharing the bed?”

Mari sat down on the bed, her soft, pajama covered buttcheeks bending the comforter under their weight. She withdrew the hairbrush from her shiny black hair and set it on the bedside table.

“Oh right,” Cecelia said. “That makes sense.”

Her exhausted brain swam with stupid, improbable daydreams: her and Mari cuddling under the covers, their bodies folding across and into each other. Tasting Mari’s thighs and lips and waist and arms under the crashing thunderstorm.

Excited, nervous, Cecelia ducked under the covers.

***

Cecelia’s bloodshot eyes stared with murderous intent at the ceiling. The covers were gone from her side. Mari gripped all the bedsheets to her chest in a fat dung beetle ball. She curled around it, protectively. Cecelia’s clammy bare feet shivered. Her lips curled with rage. Her pussy had never been drier.

“cccRRrrRRZZZZXXx…” inhuman, crackling snoring drifted up from the Mari-ball.

Cecelia’s eyebrow twitched.

Reaching over, she tugged at the bedsheets, trying to pull them from Mari’s grip.

Mari rolled over and her arm lashed out from the covers like an Arbok, striking Cecelia right in the throat in a sleeping Karate chop.

“GAAAKK!”

Cecelia choked and grabbed her throat, convulsing on the bed like she was possessed by a demon for a few seconds before slowly settling, shuddering and gasping, back to her sleeping position.

She rolled over onto her side, facing Mari. Mari’s mouth was open, drooling, her lips peeled back as she snored. Nose hair stuck out of her upturned, piggy nostrils. The spicy smell of Whooper gumbo drifted from her mouth into Cecelia’s direction.

Cecelia frowned. She could feel her crush on Mari rapidly evaporating.

She reached out and tugged at the sheets again with clawed, rage-filled fingers.

Instead of an arm lashing out, Mari’s left leg fully extended. The heel slammed right between Cecelia’s legs, crushing her clit under the solid bone of her heel.

“OUUHH!!” Cecelia gasped, eye’s crossing. The impact sent her tumbling off the bed where she landed flat against the floor with an earth-shaking thud.

“CrRRRRXXzZZzz…” Mari snored, unaffected.

Cecelia rose to her knees, face squashed against the hard wood. She gripped her stinging, aching pussy with both hands, spasming and cursing under her breath.

***

“Good morning girls! How’d you sleep?” Martha greeted them as they entered the kitchen.

“Like a log!” Mari said, stretching. She wore her one-piece swimsuit again, and her boobs pulled at the rubbery material while she flexed.

Cecelia, her frizzy hair an unkempt storm cloud and the circles under her eyes so purple they looked bruised, could only grumble.

Poliwhirl, his head and arms bandaged from the fight last night, waddled behind them.

Everyone was sitting at the table. Bertram was reading his paper. Jasper was sipping a cup of coffee. Cecelia’s eyes darted to him and then immediately darted away when he lifted his head.

And, in the very middle of the table, was the Clue Corporation downing impossibly high stacks of pancakes. The three of them, Thelma, the skinny man, and their munchlax were completely disassembling and shoveling tiny skyscrapers of pancakes into their mouths.

“Like, wow, these are great pancakes Mrs. M,” the skinny man said, taking a moment to breathe.

Martha’s face twitched, forcing itself to creak into a smile. “Thank you, Roger,” she said.

Bertram and Jasper glared at the Clue Corporation, the enemies seemingly united in their suspicion. Mari and Cecelia started to eat their own, more human sized pancake servings while watching the strange trio.

Jasper sipped on his coffee. “So, Bertram says you think one of us is the swamp monster?”

Thelma nodded, her cheeks puffed out with pancake. She picked up the pitcher of orange juice, and, to Martha’s horror began to chug the pitcher, gripping it with both hands. Martha’s hand reached out as if to save someone from drowning, and then dramatically pulled back, her trembling fist held tight to her breast.

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Thelma said. “You three are the only one’s out here in the swamp. After cataloging and cross referencing all swamp monster sightings, they all radiate out of this area.”

Bertram nodded. “So, it’s Jasper. I fucking knew it.”

“Hey!” Jasper growled. “Watch who you’re accusing, old man!”

“And why should he?” Martha huffed. “You’re the only one here with the money to build a monster suit. And the only one with motive! Trying to run us out of our inn, build a highway through all our memories…”

She dabbed the tears from her eyes with her apron, and Bertram nodded his head up and down like a smug sipping bird desk toy.

Jasper stood up and pointed at her from across the table. “Now listen here! I’ve been trying to give you two a good deal!”

Thelma, Roger, and Munchlax set their empty plates down on the table and sighed in unison. That is, until Munchlax picked up the plate again and started licking it clean.

“I wouldn’t say Jasper is the only one here with motive,” Thelma said, slowly. Her words hung over the table with twitching doom.

All eyes at the table turned to her with such focus that no one paid attention to Munchlax as it swallowed the plate whole and started crunching.

Thelma leaned forward.

“Legends say that centuries ago the native people used these swamps as part of their trade routes, and they offered sacrifices for safe passage.”

“Sacrifices?” Cecelia gasped.

“Goldsacrifices,” Thelma nodded. “Buried in the darkest corners of the swamp, ancient gold totems of incredible historical, and of course, monetary value.”

Jasper and Bertram and Martha all looked at each other. All three of their faces were flat, stony.

“Maybe a traveling construction agent found some gold and wanted to keep it for themselves,” Thelma said. “Or maybe two lovable innkeepers found the gold and want to scare away anyone who would distract them from collecting it…”

Mari poured herself some more milk. She looked at Thelma’s hunched, dramatic, chubby form with a twisting little frown.

“And the quote unquote ‘legends’ say this?” she said, making bitchy air quotes with her fingers.

“Well, by the legends, she means like all the research,” Roger said.

“Research?” Martha asked.

“The swamp trade routes have been well documented,” Thelma said. “And gold totems have been found before. Many archeologists have created maps hypothesizing potential totem burial sites.”

“We spent, like, weeks researching everything at the Cedar Falls library,” Roger said.

“In fact,” Thelma added smugly. “I have a book upstairs that combines every previous archeologist map. The swamp monster sightings line up with most of them, but not all.”

She laughed. “There’s probably burial sites in that book that the monster doesn’t even know about.”

A tense quiet fell over the room, broken only by the sound of Munchlax politely chewing glass plate shards.

“But like, didn’t you see the monster too?” Roger leaned forward to look at Cecelia.

Cecelia looked down at Poliwhirl, who seethed with rage. Her own jaw was set with frustration. “We saw it. I don’t know exactly where, though. It was raining pretty hard.”

“Ooh!” Thelma clapped her hands together. “Could you show us? I need to add that location to my maps!”

Mari frowned. “Well, we are kind of stranded here until that creepy ferry woman comes back.”

Cecelia and Poliwhirl clenched their fists with determination. “And that shiny yanmega is still out there somewhere!” Cecelia beamed.

From across the table Bertram chuckled. “Creepy ferry woman? You mean Gladys? She wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s been ferrying travelers since I was a little boy. She doesn’t drop by here that often any more, but she’s as sweet as an Alcremie!”
 “Then what are we waiting for!” Thelma said. She grabbed Cecelia’s arm and started pulling her toward the door. Roger, Munchlax, and Mari followed right behind her.

“We’ll be back at lunch time!” Thelma called to Martha, who had started washing dishes at the sink. Martha grumbled something through gritted teeth.

Outside, Cecelia started walking into the woods. “So, I think we went in this direction…”

Thelma and Roger and Munchlax immediately rushed past her and dove into some bushes, vanishing from sight. Cecelia and Mari blinked.

“Get down!” Thelma hissed. She yanked them into the bushes, disappearing them into the leaves.

“Hey! What’s going on!” Mari yelled. Cecelia rubbed her head.

“Shhh!” Roger and Munchlax said. The five of them squatted awkwardly.

Thelma pulled her sweater away from her body, stretching it, and then reached down her turtleneck and into her boobs. Her hand emerged holding a strange device, a remote control with a small screen. Knobs and buttons and wires stuck out of it in every direction. She sat down on the muddy grass in her miniskirt and furiously began pressing buttons on the device. Her tongue curled around her lips with concentration.

“I’m seeing if they’ll take the bait!” she whispered.

“The bait?” Cecelia said.

“Like, all that stuff about the book? There’s a tracker in it,” Roger said.

“A tracker?” Cecelia frowned. She was too sleep deprived for this.

“I think I get it,” Mari said, her eyebrows knitting together. “That’s why you kept going on about the book at breakfast. And why you wanted to get out of the inn as soon as possible. If one of them is the swamp monster, they’d try to steal the book from your room to find the other artifacts. And then you can follow them and catch them.”

“Bingo!” Thelma said.

The little device made booping static noises.

Roger shuffled along the grass to get a better look at the device screen. “Well? Did they take the bait?”

Thelma’s face turned pale. “It’s not in my room.”

“What?” Roger said.

She turned the device towards them. A blinking light shown on the device’s map screen. It was far away, deep in the swamp. Munchlax gasped, covering its mouth with little hands.

“Did they already stole it?” Cecelia asked.

“They probably looked through all your shit when you were sleeping last night,” Mari said. “Bursting through the door and announcing you knew who the swamp monster was probably made them a little suspicious.”

Thelma’s face turned bright red. She gripped the little device in her hands. Her eyes were watery with rage.

“Like, what’s wrong Thelma? We can still go to the swamp monster hideout,” Roger said. “Whoever the swamp monster is, they must have a base somewhere out there. Jasper would need, like, somewhere to land his helicopter, and the inn couldn’t be a base. It’s way, way too risky.”

She leaned over to him and muttered something under her breath. Mari and Cecelia looked at each other, confused.

“What?” Roger asked, holding a hand to his ear.

Thelma whispered it again.

He squinted, trying to hear. “What?”

Thelma fumed. “I SAID I was sleeping naked last night!”

Mari snorted. Cecelia immediately turned bright red as the image of Thelma’s sleeping, naked vulnerable body filled her mind. Her ass in the air, buttcheeks jiggling while she rolled over onto her back. Her boobs soft, loose, her legs, her thighs open and her pussy on complete display. Her buttcheeks squished against the surface of the bed.

Thelma rose to her feet, burning with rage. “I’m going to catch that swamp monster! Are you with me!?”

***

The swamp was flooded and humid from last night’s storm. The air had a steaming, choking dampness to it. The five of them trekked through the fetid heat. Mari, with her swimsuit, was the only one dressed for the roasting temperatures and the knee-high muddy water. Their advancing march made the surskits dancing across the water’s surface skate away in terror. Cecelia and Roger had rolled up their pant legs, but the water still splashed up to their clothed thighs. Thelma, leading the charge, seemed unaffected by the water splashing up and staining her skirt. Munchlax rode on Roger’s shoulders, sleeping.

“There!” Thelma said, pointing through the trees.

In a grassy clearing, the marsh gave way to a teetering, rotting southern mansion. The two story building was made of dark gray, faded wood. Overgrown vines and moss clung from it, almost camouflaging it with the rest of the swampy forest.

“It looks like it’s been abandoned for years,” Cecelia said.

“That’s what they want you to think!” Thelma replied. She charged up the porch steps with the other four right behind her. Her hand reached out for the doorknob.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Mari said.

Her hand turned the doorknob.

With a CA-CLUNK the mail slot opened. An arrow immediately shot out, flying between Thelma’s legs and slicing at the hem of her miniskirt. Cecelia, Mari, and Roger all ducked, but the arrow flew past them, missing them. At least, until the arrow hit a tree and bounced off, ricocheting and redirecting itself right toward Roger’s ass.

POINK!

“YYEEOOUUU!!”

Roger howled. He was knocked down onto his face with his ass in the air. The still vibrating arrow stuck out of his right asscheek.

Mari and Cecelia winced, grabbing at their own butts in sympathy.

Thelma grimaced through her teeth.

“Welp,” she said. “Looks like we’ll be dealing with some booby traps…”

To be Continued…