They melted from the darkness ahead of me: two curvaceous feminine figures, cast in silhouette against the moonlit backdrop of Castelia's narrow side-streets. Soft, musical laughter echoed down the alley towards me, and something about it filled me with an implacable dread. Despite the girlish timbre, it was a cruel laughter, like that of a pair of bullies who'd cornered their victim. It was the laughter of predators, relishing the chance to toy with their prey.
I stood exposed before them, caught in the harsh yellow glow of an overhead streetlamp. Instinctively my hand dropped to my belt, where ${pkmn1}'s pokéball hung. My fingers were poised over it, like a desperado's hand caressing the grip of his revolver, ready to draw at a moment's notice. I didn't know who these girls were, but if they wanted trouble, I was ready to give it to them.
With another soft chuckle, the two figures began slowly advancing on me, strutting towards me with a tawdry sway in their step. Behind the figures, a flickering streelamp bathed the mouth of the alley with harsh florescent light, turning the approaching forms into pitch-black shadows: dark and sultry shapes devoid of detail. I traced their outlines with my eyes, straining to make them out in the dimly lit alley. Their bodies were beyond voluptuous: the darkness exaggerated the heavy bounce of their chests and rhythmic swell of their hips into an almost grotesque caricature of the female form.
"Prepare for trouble." a melodious voice intoned, and one of the girls strode forwards into the light, a pokéball of her own clutched to her generous bosom. The moment her face came into view, I realized with a shock that I recognized her: her name was Hilda, and she was a young trainer I'd met a few times before on my journey, an assertive and bold girl from Nuvema Town. She'd changed so much since last I'd seen her that she was almost unrecognizable, though—the Hilda I'd known had been a slender, almost boyish woman, far from the buxom figure that now stood before me.
"And make it double." purred the other figure, stepping forwards to reveal herself as another trainer I recognized: a girl from Aspertia City by the name of Rosa. She too, had changed—though she'd already been better endowed than Hilda, her slim girlish figure had somehow become a plump, womanly hourglass. Her perky young breasts had swollen into full, obscene orbs that jiggled with her every motion, her waifish hips now broad, lascivious curves. For her to have undergone such a dramatic transformation since I'd seen her less than a week ago was almost unthinkable.
The girls were dressed almost identically. Both wore shamelessly skintight black lycra leotards, emblazoned across the chest with an angry red 'R'. The thin, form-fitting material clung to them like a second skin, displaying every crease and contour of their scandalous new bodies. They wore nothing beneath their uniforms, the twin peaks of their bare nipples straining against the spandex evidenced that. The provocative garment left their hips and legs exposed, the thin material plunging deep between the plush, pale orbs of their buttocks to clutch tightly at their most intimate regions. Both girls wore white PVC gloves, with a matching set of white stockings straining to contain the bulging flesh of their thighs. A hat completed their uniforms; a baseball cap in Hilda's case, and a sun visor in Rosa's, both the same black as their uniforms and sporting the same vaguely familiar red 'R' logo.
"Hilda? Rosa? What are you-" I began, but the rest of my words caught in my throat as I noticed their eyes. There was no recognition in those eyes, nothing of the girls I knew—instead they leered drunkenly in my direction, unfocused as if staring through me rather than at me. Their pupils were dilated wildly, and their irises had taken on an unnatural bubblegum hue, glowing with a lurid light.
"What do we want?" Hilda finished for me, cocking her head and raising an eyebrow, her features twisted into a self-assured smirk. "That's easy. We're here for that ${pkmn1} of yours."
While it was Hilda's familiar face that leered down at me, and her voice that spoke, it was like speaking to a completely different person—or a twisted reflection of the girl I'd known. Where the Hilda I'd known had been brash and unrefined, this Hilda seemed arrogant and crude, a perverse and depraved corruption of the girl she once was.
"If you hand it over, we'll make it worth your while." Rosa promised, placing her hand on Hilda's shoulder and letting it slide down the other girl's body, tracing her fingers tenderly down the seam of Hilda's leotard until she reached the hip.
"Of course, we'll be taking it... one way or another." Hilda added, biting her lip and closing her eyes as Rosa's hand gently caressed her thigh. "You may as well just hand it over. Things will be much more... pleasurable... for you if you do."
I was stunned, as much by the abrupt change in personality the girls had undergone as the suggestive display they were putting on. The Hilda and Rosa I'd known would never have acted in such a vulgar, provocative manner, and they'd certainly never demand I hand over one of my pokémon. For a moment I struggled to process what was happening, my head spinning in confusion—until I remembered where I'd seen that red 'R' emblem before. It was the emblem of Team Rocket, a criminal syndicate operating abroad, infamous for using pokémon for crime and profit alike. Stealing pokémon, extortion, drug trafficking, kidnapping, and even running underground brothels—there was nothing Team Rocket wouldn't do, no line they wouldn't cross.
"Team Rocket." I muttered through clenched teeth, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicking into place. "They got ahold of you two and... they did something to you, didn't they? Hypnotized you?"
The two girls exchanged conspiratorial looks with one another, before turning back to me. Their eyes were lit with a strange fervor, a look I could only describe as a lustful zeal.
"They taught us our purpose in life." Hilda purred with a fanatical pride, drawing Rosa closer. She slid an arm around her partner's waist, cupping Rosa's heavy breasts and squeezing them as if to punctuate her words.
"They made us look so good... feel so good..." Rosa whispered, her voice dripping with lust, her cheeks flushed pink. She bit her lip and shuddered, visibly suppressing a moan as Hilda's hands roamed across her voluptuous form. "They showed up how good it felt to obey."
Rosa turned her head, planting a tender kiss on her partner's cheek, though her eyes never left my own. This lewd display was as much for my benefit as their enjoyment, I suddenly realized—it was a crude, yet effective ploy, an effort to cloud my judgement, to seduce me into giving them what they—or rather, what Team Rocket—wanted from me.
"We can make you feel good, too..." Hilda's voice was almost giddy with desire as she drew back her hand, planting a playful spank on Rosa's jiggling asscheek. The muffled sound of her rubber glove on Rosa's bare flesh echoed down the alley. "All you have to do... is hand over that ${pkmn1} to Team Rocket!"