223 – By the Pricking of my Thumbs

223 – By the Pricking of my Thumbs

This team was insane.

Ceridwen had thought she'd clinched the battle when she goaded Brandy into taking her bet. The Mismagius wasn't a gambler. Lucky Chant was an incredibly powerful move, but most Pokémon never got the hang of it, giving it a bad reputation as a double-edged sword. Not her. She'd mastered it. Never make a bet you had any chance of losing.

Wren was a sweetheart, the love of her ghostly life, but Ceridwen knew how hard that woman came. She couldn't handle six orgasms. She'd be dripping out of her borrowed maid dress into a puddle on the ground long before the sixth hit her. That's why they'd sought out a Dhelmise. Calico's inheritance would toughen Wren up and make her the undefeatable, shapeshifting Trainer that Dinah and Ceridwen knew she could be. She'd bonded with Wren because she saw the seeds of greatness in her that so few in Postwick ever had. She was a quick-witted and determined woman who, with the right nurturing, would one day put on an act that put even Ceridwen to shame.

All that still held true, but Ceridwen had a skin-crawling feeling she hadn't had to endure for a long, long time. Despite stacking the deck so heavily in her favor, there was a creeping feeling that she was missing a trick.

Throwing a burning hand of cards at the black-feathered monster stalking her, Ceridwen clicked her tongue in frustration as she burst apart right before the attack hit. Splaying her hands out, Ceridwen had the cards fan out, forming a scything storm around her. Morgan could Astonish out of her attacks as often as she liked, but she still had to return somewhere. Ceridwen was the team's battlefield control expert. She wouldn't leave that Murkrow anywhere to reform without getting her wings clipped.

The feeling of fingernails on her stomach made her jerk erratically in the air, the sudden weight on her back throwing off her motions. Tucked under her hat's brim, lips brushed her ears and whispered, oh so sweetly. "I'm loving the style, but I'm still waiting for the trick."

Ceridwen's mouth hung open. She'd slipped into the space just under her hat! Snapping her fist to draw her fluttering cards in, she watched helplessly as a swirling vortex of wind blew them back to plaster all over the shimmering walls of the arena. Her legs pressed back against the fabulous black feathers of the Murkrow, tickling between the gaps in her fishnets. Ceridwen's hat shifted on her head, her blue and pink-tipped hair ruffled as a hand with longer fingernails pulled her head back. Her hat squeezed flat between them as she tilted back to meet the eyes of her tormentor.

"What's the matter, ghost witch? Are you not used to someone else getting the drop on you?" the Murkrow said, a long fingernail tracing Ceridwen's jawline. Her feathers were cool against Ceridwen's prickling skin, making her shiver as she brushed her thighs with her long legs. "I'd love to bet how long it's going to take for you to start panicking."

"You're an interesting one," Ceridwen said, her golden eyes narrowing. "But dodge all you like, I only need to be lucky once."

"You're relying on luck?" the Murkrow asked, her lips curling up into an evil smile. "Oh, you poor thing, this was over before it began."

The Murkrow crashed into Ceridwen, her nails raking across Ceridwen's skin as their mouths smashed together. The impact sent them both rolling across the ground, the air bursting from Ceridwen's lungs as they tumbled. She tried to find some control, but it was useless; with her nerves on fire with pleasure, she lost control. Morgan threw her onto her front and then was on top of her back in a flash, straddling her and pinning her down with the weight of her body. Her energy claws sank from either side of Ceridwen's head, cutting a notch out of the brim of her hat. The mad-eyed Murkrow bit down on the back of Ceridwen's neck, and a moan dragged out of her throat as the pain was turned into thought-melting delight.

"I told a lot of lies. You're very good at this. Against anyone else that'd have worked." Morgan growled, her voice breathy and dripping with lust. "But I want to win more than I want to listen to you. I want to be on top."

Ceridwen felt the cock slap down on her back, the thick hard mass stroking along her spine.

"So I lied about wanting to see your act. Making you squirm is going to be so much more fun." Morgan said, humping herself against Ceridwen. "I'm going to fuck you until you see stars."

Ceridwen couldn't help but press back with her ass, teasing Morgan to take her prize. She couldn't fight it any longer; she was all out of tricks. Morgan had just powered through them all. Even with the bird's brain scrambled by psychic energy, Ceridwen had just stirred up what lurked underneath it all. Something in Morgan was so powerfully hungry for her that Ceridwen's insides squirmed in eager anticipation. She reached her hand back, her fingers trailing along the side of the Murkrow's shaft. Not huge, but thick, and her soft touch made the bird hum happily as she thrust her cock against her. Grabbing Ceridwen's hips to get herself in position to really go at her.

Morgan wanted to ruin her, and if Ceridwen could drop the act for a moment. She could admit she wanted that. As insane as the Murkrow was, she had a passionate drive to her that spoke to the Ghost. She committed to the bit hard, and that was deeply attractive.

A little insane. But very attractive.

Brandy's team wasn't just strong. They were genuinely impossible creatures, acting in ways you just didn't expect. It was fascinating, if incredibly hard to fight against. All Ceridwen could do now was keep Morgan away from the others and hope Calcine fucked up and knocked Wren out before she could win the Lucky Chant bet.

If Calcine was anything like Morgan, she probably wouldn't be that lucky. But that was her fault; she wasn't meant to rely on luck. She'd take the loss, enjoy it, and learn the hard lesson coming her way.

At least as lessons went, this wasn't going to be an unpleasant one.