The steam-powered mechanisms dotting Motostoke were so intricate when you looked closely. A big gear driven by a piston seemed simple but was just the heavy push to a dance of cogs, flywheels, and belts that could make almost anything happen. It was completely archaic, and yet it seemed somehow almost cutting edge. The guts of one great engine were open near the gym, and a small gaggle of people had gathered around it. A few women in long brown leather coats directed some sweating ladies covered in oil, trying to climb into the machine. Another mechanical Pokémon was holding pieces up, this one a very tall doll-like looking woman with pure white skin and a few plasters crisscrossed over some slight chips in her skin. She wore a huge grey hoop skirt cut at the hem into squares and a massive spiked band of metal circling around her, utterly free of any support.

How anyone would ever get near her to hug her was a mystery; she'd never seen a Pokémon who looked quite as unapproachable. But she held everything up like she could do it all today, and one fearless engineer snuck under the spinning spiked ring, leaned over to pat her stomach, and whispered in her ear. Seems even someone that strong looking had a sweetheart here.

Brandy had to stop looking when Sparky punched her arm, her fingers flicking some sparks at Brandy as she pulled away.

"Ow! Why?"

"Can't get lost with the eyes," Sparky said. "You stare at the details all day and never get anything done."

"I could stare at you three all day, and I'm sure you'd find things for me to do." Brandy huffed, punching Sparky's arm back. It was just a slight knock that barely changed the Joltik's confident stride.

"It's so noisy," Morgan had her hat tugged down firmly, covering her ears. "I hope the Center isn't this bad, or I'll never relax."

"Can you buffer your ears?" Brandy said, looking at Morgan's tight eyes. It really was bothering her. "Use your gust and make a cushion of air; it should dampen the noise a bit."

"No," Morgan said confidently, then stopped and actually thought about it. "Sorry, I should try out the idea."

Swirling a wing, her hat brim fluttered, and her feathers ruffled as air rushed around her head. After a few tips of her hat, she gave a nod.

"It's not less noisy, but the sound of machines is deadened by the wind, which I find more bearable. Thank you, you really are my Trainer."

"Was that in doubt? We can have Brandy pin you down and confirm it," Calcine said with an ever-so-sweet smile and got some wind blown at her with flicks of Morgan's finger for her cheek.

"Stoke a candle in a Rolycoly's heart, and she thinks she breathes fire." Morgan sniffed, "I can wrap myself in the wind. I can snuff you out."

These two!

Calcine and Morgan's fighting was good-natured, but it was still a butting of heads that wasn't coming from nowhere. Morgan was finding her spot in the group, and it seemed she had her eyes on a spot Calcine was already quite enjoying. If she hadn't seen Calcine enjoy tackling a bird girl so much recently, she'd have been tempted to step in and separate them, but for now, she just kept an eye on it in case it actually got nasty. A bit of training could help burn off some of the energy they both had.

The Poké-center here wasn't anything like home. Turrfield had been like a beer garden and open-air market, a lovely quaint place for Trainers to rest up and bond. Motostoke's center was like stepping inside a watch, gears whirling on every surface, clock faces ticking down, and brass stools lining long wooden bartops where baristas were serving coffee from machines that shot out great plumes of smoke. It was incredibly lively, everyone being directed around by the pink-shirted staff with meticulous efficiency.

Brandy was still taking it in when a short lady with a blue headband perched above tired eyes tapped Brandy's chest with her clipboard to get her attention. "Name? Reason for stay?"

"Oh, Brandy Joyce. Um.... new Move testing? Is that a thing?"

"First time?" her eyes softened a little, she still looked exhausted, but the frustration had bled out. "Welcome to Motostoke, Ms. Joyce, don't worry. We pride ourselves on a first-class service. Just follow the blue rail to the training rooms and take room eight."

"Blue rail?" Calcine chipped in, which Brandy was thankful for. She was just about to ask, but with help, she could feel out of her depth without constantly confirming it.

The lady with the blue headband pointed to the ceiling. Brass piping painted with stripes along the side crisscrossed the room. "Just follow the blue paint, and you'll know the spots. Please resist peeking in on others. Some training can get quite intense, and the last thing you want is to go from Trainer to patient!"

"That definitely happened," Sparky said, tugging at the blue headband's sleeve. "What's the story? Was it hideous? Did they get blown through a wall?"

Brandy just picked Sparky up and walked off with her, letting the staff get back to work while Sparky yelled more questions over her shoulder, legs kicking in the air. She went quiet as soon as they found the hallways with numbered doors.

"Brandy," Sparky whispered. "They're both glaring at me. It's scary."

"Stop being a brat then," Brandy replied, squeezing Sparky's legs.

"Make me."

Sparky squirmed on Brandy's shoulder as Calcine and Morgan took turns tugging her cheeks, making her giggle madly and kick even harder until Brandy bundled her into room 8 with Calcine and Morgan in tow. Dropping Sparky off into Calcine's arms, Calcine stretched her out so Morgan could bend and blow some raspberries on Sparky's stomach.

"This isn't fair. This isn't fair!" Sparky squealed, "You can't gang up on me. Fight each other more!"

"Doling out punishment is both our responsibility," Morgan said with a cluck of her tongue. "Isn't that right, Calcine?"

"Absolutely. Brandy, should we bend her over?"

"I actually wanted to train!" Brandy said, closing the door behind her. The room wasn't anything special, well-lit with shining metal walls. It looked like it could take a beating, and the lack of any marks meant even if they managed to punch through, the Center had a Pokémon who could repair it all good as new. "But yes, bend her over."

Sparky squealed with delight as she was folded, Morgan slapping her thighs as Calcine pressed her shoulders down and then stood gently on the inside of Sparky's arm so she couldn't get back up. Sparky's ass in those tight black shorts pointed straight up to the room's roof, and her fur was a sparking mess already.

"I'm not going to have you hold back from us this time," Brandy said as she got alongside Sparky, running a hand along her back and ruffling it into the fur around her neck. "Did resting up change anything?"

"You bet," Sparky grinned. "But you'll never work it out."

"Calcine?" Brandy said, looking into those bright orange eyes. "You look much better. Anything change for you?"

"Would you like a demonstration?"

"Oh, we have a willing volunteer." Morgan laughed as she squeezed Sparky's thigh, her nails digging into the flesh. "Don't we?"

"So mean," Sparky mumbled, "But you'll never break me."

That was a yes. Sparky was very much asking for it. Brandy gave Calcine the nod, and she raised her hand. Her skin glowed with red hot veins, and the heat seeped out of her skin into her hand, forming a glowing hot coal that she rolled between her fingers. Then Calcine slammed her hand down onto Sparky's ass, smashing the ball of energy into it with a heated hiss, Sparky's ass rippling like the surface of a pond from the sheer force of it.

"Fucking, holy fucking fuck fucking fuck." Sparky moaned eloquently as she ground her head into the ground. "Fucking fuck me!"

"Good?" Calcine said, blowing on her hand.

"What was that? Was like getting plowed by a train, but like, one that gave some kisses as it smashed through."

"Awful metaphor; what are you talking about?" Morgan laughed as she ran her fingers around the print Calcine had left on Sparky's butt.

"I feel the moon just crashed into my butt and then tongued me out." Sparky moaned, "Would it be rude to cum?"

"Yes," Brandy said, giving Sparky's butt a light swat. Compared to Calcine's thunderous clap, it just got a little yelp out of Sparky, but she wiggled her butt for more anyway. "No more until you tell us."

"Aw, come on! You know you want to smash this butt. I'm a terror."

"Nope, we're just going to kiss it and tend to it; you look sore."

Sparky wiggled to get up, but Calcine still had a foot on her arm, and Morgan held her thigh tight. So Brandy got down and did just that, kissing the curve of Sparky's rear and teasing the tender flesh with her tongue.

"No, no, do it properly," Sparky whined. "Please!"

"What Move did Calcine use?" Brandy said firmly as she gave Sparky's butt the lightest of bites, making her back arch and electricity crackle madly along her arms.

"Smack Down, obviously! Fuck, going to be so good for her. She can punish people up close now."

"Even yellow-furred brats," Calcine growled.

"Especially those!"

"Very good," Brandy purred, "And if you want another, what's your Move?"

"It's embarrassing," Sparky mumbled. "I don't want to say."

Brandy gave her other cheek a swat and then slid her hand between Sparky's legs, a finger stroking the underside of her cock as she cupped her hand. "Tell me."

Sparky puffed her cheeks. "'s embarrassing. Let me whisper."

Suspicious, but anything to get an answer out of her. Brandy got down onto one knee.

"Closer," Sparky mumbled, still delirious from Calcine's mega slap. "Morgan's got good ears."

Brandy leaned down even closer, an arm bracing the ground as she got down eye level with Sparky. Who then leaned in and bit her earlobe. A flash of pain quickly tuned to an explosion of pleasure that burst out right from her eardrum. Like venom coursing through her head and making her mind crackle, Brandy collapsed, flopping around on the ground as she panted for air. She felt warm and hot, deliriously happy and horny as hell squirming her thighs together as she slipped a hand down to pleasure herself.

The pressure on her ears parted, and the thrum of blood in her head dimmed some, letting her return to reality with slow, panting breaths.

"Fucking, fucking fuck." Brandy mumbled, her tongue feeling loose. She hadn't orgasmed. She felt dry down there, but she still felt like she had orgasmed and done it hard enough to make herself short of breath. "Fuck me."

"Oh no, the swearing is spreading. Sparky's infected her." Morgan groaned.

"No, it's worse than that." Calcine groaned. "We're doomed."

"Bug Bite," Brandy groaned. "She knows Bug Bite."

"Why's that so bad?" Morgan said, "Is this a joke I don't get?"

Sparky twisted and chomped her ankle. Morgan went down with an orgasmic wail, feathers flying everywhere as she writhed on the ground. Some squawking 'fucks' as her wings beat madly.

"This is so good!" Sparky cackled, her fangs glowing as she chomped at the air. "Calcine, come here!"

"No, you'll break your teeth."

"I'll break you, come join the chomp squad!" Sparky gnashed at Calcine, "Give me some of that Rolycoly flesh."

Calcine's hand glowed again as she slapped Sparky's other asscheek and put her down hard, Sparky rolling about on the ground happily contorting into a giggling ball.

"She's going to be a menace with it, I see." Morgan gasped, finally managing to draw breath. "My heart feels like it's about to explode."

"Want me to smack you?" Calcine smirked.

"Only if you want me to cum too."

Brandy caught Calcine's wrist before she could swing. "I think we all need some water, then let's reassess. With no smacks. Or biting."

"Well, you got to stuff my mouth with something." Sparky mewled in her fetal ball. "I have a hunger."

"Can you pay attention while doing it?" Calcine said as she gave Sparky a nudge with her boot.

"Full attention." Sparky said, "Long as they don't get too vigorous."

"Hrm, well, Morgan still needs to join the club. I feel it's only fair you get your mouth around her for this."

"This groups a disaster," Morgan groaned, covering her face with her wings. "And Arceus, help me. I'm so excited about it."

Brandy wouldn't object to a show, though she'd have to watch carefully for any biting. Now and forever more, it seemed, an eternal biting vigil. Well, she had eyes for it, at least.