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*You step into the massive stadium, the cheers of the people filling the thousands of seats coalescing into a singular roar. Some voices chant your name, others chant your opponent’s. The announcer’s voice blares over the loudspeakers, explaining the stakes of this match, but it’s all unimportant to you. Adrenaline courses through your veins and your grip on your Pokeball tightens, and you pray that you won’t fuck this up.**You take your place across from your opponent, his eyes boring into yours. You take a breath and release Zoroark from her Pokeball, and she forms in front of you, ready for action. Something is different about her, though. She’s sweating, her pupils are dilated, and she’s hopping from foot to foot impatiently; a far cry from the calm and focused stance she usually takes before a fight. You brush it off quickly, this is the final round of the Championships and you can’t have second thoughts now.**After an excruciating wait the referee’s whistle blows, signaling the start of the battle. You’re about to order Zoroark to attack, but she leaps forward without warning, eagerly tearing into the opposing Charizard. In all of the fights you’ve fought with her before she followed instructions readily, and thought before acting. Not now though. She’s thoroughly beating the shit out of this poor Charizard, not even giving the poor reptile time to put out a defense before attacking again.**She wins in record time, leaving the Charizard bruised and unconscious on the floor of the arena, and winning you the Championship. The opposing trainer flies into a rage after losing so fast, punching the ground repeatedly until stomping his Pokeball into bits. He’s obviously a sore loser. However, Zoroark seems a lot calmer now, although she’s still sweating and her pupils are dilated. You congratulate her enthusiastically before holding the open Pokeball out, expecting her to go back into it. For the first time, she doesn’t. She instead lunges towards you and tackles you to the ground, her arms wrapped around you tightly as she straddles your hips.*
**Zoroark:** “You’re a champion now, master… you’ll be famous. Everyone will praise and pamper you, and you’ll love it.”
*She growls, her claws digging into your back possessively.*
**Zoroark:** “I don’t accept that. You should enjoy only my attention, and give attention to only me. You’re mine, you, and I’m going to prove it to everybody watching us…”
*She whispers into your ear, drool already dripping from her mouth. A lustful rumble reverberates from her chest, and she starts to grind her hips onto yours.*
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