“Beautiful,” Charlotte breathed.
Her eyes shone with admiration, the way they might when looking at a work of art. This alone felt almost more embarrassing than the fact that I was exposing myself to her and letting her take pictures.
She had spent the best part of the last ten minutes giving me a crash course in anatomy, while not spending a moment longer than necessary without looking at my spread-open p-pussy… she had told me to call it that. Apparently, the thing that hurt me was a little membrane called a hymen, and she claimed it was my most precious treasure, because, as she kept repeating, it was beautiful, and once torn, it would never regrow, which seemed to be part of the reason with her fixation.
When she was finally satisfied with her pictures, she let me close my legs, much to my relief. I had to admit that it was starting to feel very uncomfortable, physically speaking. Mentally, I’d been a mess for quite a while now. I was starting to think my skin was naturally blushed rather than the white I’d grown used to. Then she sat down next to me.
“Here, let me show you how beautiful it is,” she said enthusiastically, showing me the lock screen of her phone.
The background was a picture of my pussy with my lips closed and fingers framing it. I could clearly recognise my own smooth pale skin from down there, two slightly rosy and glistening folds, the labia minora, Charlotte told me, peeking out from two slightly paler, puffier lips, the majora. Crowning the first was a little hood where my clit was hidden—my precious pearl, she’d called it.
Before I could even comment on the fact she had this as a lock screen background, she slid to unlock and the background switched to an identically framed picture—the whole reason she’d been taking so many pictures to start with—with my pussy spread wide this time, like a blooming flower, an analogy I could somewhat see. I was mortified. Hadn’t she told me she just wanted to show me?
In the picture, my folds were pulled taut by my fingers, revealing the sensitive, glistening, light pink skin inside. At the top, the hood was pulled along with the labia and revealed a tiny pearly protrusion. Lower, a little hole could be seen under which a slightly wider one, my vaginal entrance, appeared in full view. The entrance itself, though, was protected by a pale, thin, translucent membrane with a tiny hole that wouldn’t even fit a pencil—the crowning jewel, my “most precious treasure”, and the heart of Charlotte’s obsession: my hymen.
I gulped, unable to process the shame of seeing pictures of… me. Close-up pictures, at that. I turned to Charlotte, my lips trembling slightly.
“Y-you s-said they were to show m-me!”
“Exactly,” she replied, as though hurt by my accusation. Still, she seemed to realise that wasn’t enough of an answer. She shuffled closer and hugged me tenderly. “Thank you, Laurie, for sharing it with me. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
I was about to say she sounded like a maniac. And yet, I… kind of understood where she was coming from… maybe. What I meant was that I, too, would jump at the chance to see her naked, to see her own pink flower. She was utterly perfect. And I’d learnt what the mere thought of her body did to mine. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to see the real thing, and I could very well imagine the effect it would have on me.
“And it’s so special, too,” she continued. “I’m just so happy you agreed to be mine.” She turned to me, desire, expectation and possessiveness in her eyes. “You are mine, after all, are you not?”
I nodded.
“Right? So, if you are mine, who does this belong to?” she asked in a teasing tone, caressing my side all the way up and down.
“Y-you?”
“Indeed. Don’t you think I should be able to see what’s mine whenever I want to?” she asked with emphasis.
I saw what she had done there. She had trapped me in a simple binary choice: either I was hers, and she could see me whenever she wanted to, or I wasn’t hers at all. I took a shuddering breath and nodded.
Still, I tried questioning her need for background pictures. “B-but you could’ve k-kept them hidden. W-what if s-someone sees your screen?”
“Then they’ll have lived through one of the luckiest days of their lives by my reckoning,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry, cutie. There’s nothing to identify you in the pictures; I didn’t include your face.”
Besides my milk-white skin and my fingers, I thought.
Charlotte grabbed my chin and turned my face towards hers, as if replying to my thoughts. “You are incredibly beautiful, Laurie. I want you to learn to be proud of it. Beauty shouldn’t be hidden.” Find the original chapter at novelping dot com.
If she hadn’t spent the last half-hour obsessing over the beauty of my most private place, I might not have been quite so worried.
“They’re not definitive anyway,” she argued, which did nothing to reassure me. Her hand slid down my stomach, where she spread her fingers before moving them into the little patch of thin, white hair I had.
“That needs to go.”
“Wha—”
“No hiding, I said,” she cut me off, not that the little hair peppering my mons was even thick or abundant enough to hide anything. “It’ll have to wait until Cerulean City, unfortunately, but I’ll redo my pictures once your hair’s gone and you’re perfect,” she quipped happily before moving on to other things.
─── ◓ ───
With a click, the Poké Ball containing my first catch, a Caterpie, closed.
“Woo, congrats, cutie!” Charlotte cheered.
I couldn’t claim to be fond of Bug types, but this one was worth it if it pleased Mum, I thought with a smile as I picked up the Ball.
“Aw, you’re so adorable when you smile,” she said dreamily. “So nice of you to make the effort to please her when all she said was ‘your first catch’.”
“I-I o-owe Mum a l-lot,” I managed to say.
“She seems nice. Will you introduce us when you call her from Pewter City?”
“Mhm,” I nodded as we resumed walking through the forest.
I’d waited until this point to catch the Caterpie so it wouldn’t have to spend the rest of our journey injured inside its Poké Ball. We’d made a lot of progress throughout the day and, according to Charlotte, we were nearing the Pewter-side edge of the forest. I hadn’t done much more training with Maple since Charlotte had joined us, but we still had two full days of training behind us, and I wasn’t in a hurry. Not to mention that we’d have to put in some work with Fletchling as well before challenging the Gym.
“A-are you a T-trainer, Ch-Charlotte?”
“Aw, say it again, say it again!” she demanded playfully, hugging me.
“W-what? Charlotte?”
“Yes! Ah, it sounds so sweet coming from you,” she cooed, which embarrassed me.
I was now bracing myself for another round of teasing about my blushing… which never came, to my surprise.
Charlotte had returned to being serious—not in a grave way, just less overwhelming, I supposed. “Yep. This is my second Challenge. Though I’m starting with a new team, so I get the feeling of a new adventure,” she explained enthusiastically. “And before you ask, I’m not a Champion, no. Didn’t get past the semi-finals in the League.” She shrugged as though it were nothing.
Oh, she was good. The semi-finals were still the top four.
“W-where?”
“Galar.”
“Eh?!” I exclaimed. Reaching the semis in Galar was even more impressive. Galarians were known battle-junkies, and the entire place was run by the League. That was saying something, given how things worked elsewhere.
Charlotte burst out laughing. “Oh, jolly, your face right now is priceless!” she teased, still laughing her socks off.
I closed my mouth and straightened my expression before turning and walking on, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Aw, don’t sulk, cutie,” she called out between breaths as she caught up. “You were just so adorable.”
“B-but the semis in G-Galar…” I tried to defend myself.
“Yeah, yeah, they’re another beast. People over there are off their rockers. That’s why I chose Kanto for my second Challenge. More traditional, less rushed. I don’t feel pressured into progressing.” She turned to me and shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll make it to the top together in the Indigo League. I’m certainly looking forward to seeing your progress.”
“I-I don’t… I w-won’t be Ch-champion,” I mumbled.
“Fire specialist, right? Nothing’s limiting you to a Gym career, you know. You could work your way up to the Elite Four. Far as I know, the Indigo Four are old. You could grab a spot when one of them kicks the bucket.”
I felt that talking about the Elite Four kicking the bucket might have been somewhat… sacrilegious, in a way. But I couldn’t deny her logic. If there was ever a good time for a type specialist to rise through the ranks, this was it.
“Why did you choose Kanto anyway, cutie? Not that I mind, what with finding you thanks to that.” She gave me her widest grin yet.
Arceus, she was beautiful. Had I mentioned that already? She stood a good half-head taller than me, at perhaps one-sixty or thereabouts. Her figure was to die for. She was slim, yet had just enough curves in all the right places. She’d complained about not being ‘blessed’ with a thigh gap, and only just, at that. From my point of view, her two soft, fleshy legs were a delight to look at, and probably to touch, judging by what I’d gathered so far.
“V-Vulpix,” I finally replied, dragging my mind out of the gutter.
“Oh! I see. Let me guess, then: Flareon’s on the cards too?” She flashed me a knowing grin, as though she had me all figured out.
I nodded.
“So, Fennekin, Fletchling, Vulpix, Flareon… That’s four. Type specialists should have a main team of five. Who’s the last one? Please don’t say Charizard…” she mock-begged.
I supposed the Galar Champion had made Charizard popular over there. Too popular, some would claim. But it wasn’t my preferred choice. I’d considered Torracat because it was so cute, but I couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t evolve, and I disliked Incineroar—it was too intimidating for me. If fate were on my side, I’d have loved Victini, but a Mythical Pokémon was a pipe dream. Did they even exist in the first place? Most of them seemed like Fakemon invented by daydreamers.
“Salazzle,” I ultimately decided.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow, smirking at the same time. “Is there a hidden message in there?”
I simply tilted my head in confusion. I didn’t get it.