Trainer to Breeder

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18+ years old only please!

Roland just lot a fight. His trainer, Logan, was just as dejected as his pokemon. The arcanine seemed to have something on his mind but wouldn’t divulge what it was. Whatever the problem might be, Logan intended to find out, otherwise his partner would keep losing matches, and that would not stand.

This is a commission for Darrius. I’ve been kind of “eeeehhhh” about taking commissions lately but this was a fairly simple idea that I felt like I could hammer out fairly quickly. It did indeed go quickly… but I went way longer than my original quoted word count. Whoops.

Roland and Logan are (C) Darrius
Arcanine, Incineroar, and Pokemon at large are (C) Nintendo and The Pokemon Company

Content:

Pokemon, Arcanine, Human, Gay, M/M, Size Difference, Hyper, Anal, Stomach Bulge, Cum Inflation, Knot, Impregnation, Male Pregnancy, Pregnancy

~ ~ ~ Story Sample ~ ~ ~

“Well, that could have gone better.” said Logan.

The dark-haired human sighed as he followed the large arcanine into the locker room. Roland wasn’t looking so great. He’d taken more damage than he usually did during one of his matches. The rather stout yet fluffy canid plopped down on the thick, heavy bench that ran down the middle of the space between rows of lockers.

“I know. I was there. Taking the hits.” Roland said, sounding grumpier then he usually did after a match.

He growled quietly in frustration and lifted his paws to his face, propping his head up with his elbows on his knees. He was already kicking himself for being short with his trainer, but he was just so damned fed up he could just scream.

“Something’s going on with you. Your head wasn’t in the fight. It hasn’t been for a little while,” Logan said, “What’s going on with you?”

The young man–trainer for the big arcanine–sat down next to his pokemon friend. He wanted to push harder than that, insist with more force, but that seemed ill advised given Roland’s mood.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just… I’ve got something on my mind. I really don’t wanna discuss it.” the big dog said, trying to refrain from putting too much force into his words.

Logan was about to speak up again and push for more when the locker room door opened. In walked a tall, somewhat muscle-bound, and rather flamboyant feline covered in black and red. It was the incineroar Roland had just fought. The cat and his trainer were still riding high from the victory as they swaggered in.

“Oh yeah! Who da best!?” the feline bellowed.

“You da best!” his human trainer replied without missing a beat.

Roland lifted his gaze and just quietly glared daggers at his opponent. It wasn’t until the incineroar caught sight of the arcanine that he realized it might be a bad time to try and gloat or revel in victory.

“Oh… uh… sorry about that,” the cat said, shoving a paw forward to shake in a sportsmanlike gesture, “Good match. I am sure that our next match will end with me tasting the canvas!”

Roland shuddered almost imperceptibly at the comment. That exotic accent only made the flaming feline sound like he was being insincere, but the dog took the paw and shook it, not wanting to be a bad sport. For as long as they had known each other, they had always respected one another.

“Yeah… you can count on it. Expect a re-match, Miguel.” the canid said.

“I look forward to it,” the cat said, giving his rival’s paw a firm squeeze while flashing him a winning smile, “Just try not to ruin my face. That is my meal ticket after all!”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Roland replied as he released the feline’s paw.

For a moment, Miguel peered carefully at the less than pleased dog. Usually, even in defeat, Roland was in better spirits. Logan was similarly disquieted, suggesting something to both incineroar and his human trainer that there was indeed more going on. Apparently Roland was just easy for his opponent to read. Miguel thought for a moment about what could be eating his friendly competitor, then a hint of something struck him. It was buried under attempts to conceal, and it would be impossible to detect for humans, but the fellow pokemon was able to identify it immediately.

“Oh… so that is what is troubling you. My friend, you should have said something. I would have been content to postpone the match until you were yourself again.” Miguel said, the sincerity in his voice coming through clearly this time in spite of the romantic accent.

Roland lifted a paw and quickly waved the incineroar off, practically begging him to stop.

“So something is up! C’mon, Rol, tell me what’s going on!” Logan cried.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it.” Roland said, gritting his teeth and shooting Miguel a dirty look for bringing it up.

“Yes, of course. My apologies again. Let me know when you are ready for another match and I will be there with bells on!” the feline said, backing off along with his trainer.

Within seconds, the two were around the corner, trying to keep quiet. Logan was unhappy about the interaction that had just taken place, but he didn’t force the issue, not while there was someone still in earshot. He helped the dejected and annoyed canine clean himself up then gave him privacy to change at Roland’s request. Soon, they were in Logan’s car on their way home. The human was still a little aggravated by how the conversation with Miguel had gone. The cat was a little full of himself sometimes, and could even be a little insensitive on occasion, but he had picked up on something about Roland that Logan couldn’t see. Either that, or Roland had discussed something with him behind Logan’s back.

“So we gonna talk about what happened?” the young man asked as he kept his gaze fixed on the road.

“I had a bad fight. I’m not happy about it. I’m sorry for being short with you.” Roland said, genuinely apologetic but still in something of a mood.

“Not what I’m talking about. Miguel comes waltzing in, shuts down his victory lap, then suddenly, he’s all buddy-buddy, clearly aware of something going on with you that I’m not,” Logan said, “You said you didn’t wanna talk about it, but obviously Miguel knew. How? Did you talk to him before the fight? Behind my back?”

This wasn’t how Roland expected the conversation to go. He blinked and suddenly turned defensive and remorseful.

“What!? No! No, that’s not it at all! I promise!” he cried, lifting his paws as if he might need to deflect a punch.

“Then how is it that he seems to know exactly what’s got you all ate up, but you won’t say a word about it to me? I’m supposed to be your best friend! Hell we live together! I’m your trainer! We’ve got a bond! We tell each other everything! What is it you can tell him that you can’t tell me!?” Logan shouted, slowly getting angrier and more hurt the longer he went.

“I promise I didn’t tell him a thing! It’s just… it’s a pokemon thing,” Roland explained, then turned to look out the window so he wouldn’t have to look at Logan, feeling terrible, “He was able to size me up and tell what’s going on, even though I didn’t say a word. And it’s kind of embarrassing. I didn’t want to talk about it in the locker room because… it’s really personal.”

“Oh, it’s a pokemon thing… okay, that makes it all better,” the human said, knowing he would probably regret how angry he was sounding later, “I’m your trainer! I’m supposed to know everything there is to know about you! Both as a pokemon and as your partner! If something is going on with you, I need to know! I wanna help but I can’t if you don’t tell me!”

Roland winced and shrank in his seat, feeling like a heel for having kept his trainer in the dark. It was still not the sort of environment he wanted to discuss the subject in, but he had to throw Logan a bone. If he did, he might be able to convince the human to calm down enough to get them both home without getting into a wreck.

“It’s… it’s got to do with biology. He could… smell something… on me. I’ve been going through a sort of cycle lately and… it’s been distracting the crap out of me,” Roland explained, keeping his voice relatively quiet, “I don’t wanna talk about it in public, or in the car. I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to the house, okay? I just… I need the right environment to talk about it and home feels safe enough to do that.”

It wasn’t an ideal scenario, but it was sufficient to calm the young man. He had good reason to feel left out. At least now he had some idea as to what was going on. If it was bad enough to make Roland so flustered he couldn’t actually speak about it except in the confines of their shared home, then maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so out of sorts about Miguel picking up on it.

“Okay… okay… we get home, then you dish. And don’t play coy. I want all the details. I’m your partner and this is shit I need to know if I’m going to help you be the best.” Logan said, sounding calm again.

“Like no one ever was?” the arcanine added, hoping to inject a little levity.

“Oh don’t you dare start that shit up! Last time, that song was stuck in my head for a solid week!” the human shouted, his rage returning, but only superficially.

It worked as a fine diversion for the rest of the drive home. It didn’t make Logan forget what it was they had to discuss.