It started off as an innocent request. I, the trainer, indulging massaging my poor, sore Zoroark’s pads. I didn’t look at it as any more than a friendly favor, or something that I’d do for any other of my Pokémon. But once those footpaws were in my hand… well, maybe I went a little overboard with the massage. I couldn’t help myself, see. They were simply fantastic, perfect in every way. I couldn’t help but touch my hands all along them softly until he gave an irritated sigh—just brushing my fingers over would do little to ease his soreness.
Ah, such a light heft to them, with just a modest amount of tension in that tendon running along the length of his arch. Taking just the left foot into my lap, I adored it, stroking and massaging away that stiffness with both hands, digging my thumbs right into that line of tenduous muscle. Why, of all things, did massaging my Zoroark’s foot flick that arousal switch in my mind? Sure, I liked my Pokémon—as a trainer ought to, but to have these feelings just from stroking the sole of his foot… that soft, delicately sweaty sole.
I shook my head, trying to get those inappropriate thoughts out of my head. Thoughts of kissing the very base of his heel and sliding my lips up to each clawed toe, sucking—stop! He wanted my attention, but not that kind of attention. I blinked as he pantomimed with his claws, asking for continuation. In my brief distraction and fantasy I had stopped squeezing my Zoroark’s soft foot. Of course, I returned to work immediately, cupping that footpaw on both sides and rubbing the joints of my thumb right against the ball of his padded paw.
He gave out such a nice rumble that it was almost enough to make me feel good. Even so, I had a job to do, and dutifully focused on that left foot in my lap, rubbing right along those connecting joints to his toes, applying pressure to where it was needed, pushing the fleshy part of my thumb right along that pad-less portion between ball and toe. How easy it would be to just bring the foot up to my face and give it a nice, long sniff. Whatever could it smell like, wondered my deviant mind, especially one as sweaty and in need of attention as this one was.
The Zoroark cleared his throat—in my momentary daydream I had lifted up the paw to my chest, just halfway to my nose. He looked at me down that long snout, and I looked back, nervously. Was he reading me like an open book? No, that was his normal expression. I set aside his foot, patting my lap once more. The dark-type set his right foot upon it now, and I began my careful massaging once more, this time on its mirrored form.
It wasn’t that this right paw was any more attractive than the left, they were both equally arousing in my mind, but there was something special about it; the very feeling of his fur, lightly damp with sweat against my bare finger-flesh. Perhaps the subtle warmness it exuded out as I relieved those tense tendons, and increased blood flow into those three clawed toes. Just as I pushed the joint of my thumb up into and along that arch did I realize what exactly had changed. The Zoroark’s right side was closer to me than his left, and so that foot had landed further up on my lap, its heel, dare I look… a mere centimeter away from my crotch.
Inhaling deep, I closed my eyes, trying not to think of it that paw’s closeness, simply squeezing and stroking top and bottom at the same time with some firmly pressing fingers. Subconsciously I pulled my hands back towards me, and unwittingly my Zoroark followed, until the heel of his furred foot pressed against my clothed crotch, and a spark of pleasure jolted up my spine.

Shit. Squinting, I opened my eyes, hardly wishing to see my Zoroark’s face. It was obvious he could feel my own erection, the firmness of that phallus in my pants clearly contrasted to the softer flesh of my thighs. The dark-type had an ominous, devious smile on his face, and he pushed his heel against my groin once more, bending forward the forward half so that it rested on my lower belly, just below my belly-button. If he couldn’t feel it before, he sure as hell could now.
Biting my lower lip, I squirmed, holding his foot with both my hands. My thumbs were trapped by that press, pushed up against my pants’ button while that dark-type gave a wide, smirking grin. How cruel, how torturous. As he turned toward me, that other leg swept up, lifting higher and padding against my chest, just underneath my neck. The slight movement was enough to free my hands, and I lifted them to grasp hold of the Pokémon’s ankle, lightly squeezing it. He had such powerful and attractive legs, too.
Just looking down them was enough to make my length twitch beneath that sole, pulsing through two layers of fabric and a zipper to throb on the Zoroark’s heel. He could feel it, I could feel it—there was no use denying what I wanted.
And I wanted to kiss my Zoroark’s feet.
I stared into the illusion-fox’s eyes, holding my gaze steady with those cobalt orbs. His vision didn’t change one bit as I lifted that foot upwards by the ankle, inch by inch, bringing it closer and closer to my face until its scent could enter my nostrils and fill them richly. Dark-chocolate. Now that was an unexpected smell. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Lifting higher, I broke eye-contact, closing my lids and brushing my lips against the ball of that Zoroark’s foot, where I had rubbed not a few minutes ago.
His odor came stronger now, a deeper, richer scent of cocoa, with the slight saltiness of his sweat and musk intermixed. Beyond that, it was indescribable, a potent mixture of so many sweet, bitter and salty scents all coming together as one single rich aroma. As he flexed his foot forward, he pressed his sole against my lips once more—consent, perhaps?
One of my hands left his ankle, reaching up to the top of his foot and pushing it against my face, breathing out through my mouth and in through my nose. I slid my lips down that slightly curved arch, wanting to start at the heel of that foot before moving upwards. Kiss. The furred curves of that foot’s lowest portion contoured to the shape of my lips, and I began my slow draw back up, reapplying a smooch for every centimeter I traveled.
His foot wasn’t particularly large or long, and I soon found myself right where I started, nose slipped between two toes, lips resting right against the firm ball of his paw. I pulled it closer, readjusting my posture and grinding my arousal up against the pad in my lap, bulging out through my pants. Opening my lips, I took in the innermost toe of my Zoroark’s foot to my mouth, slipping it inside that moist cavern and giving a gentle suckle upon it, while stroking the sides of that arch with my palms.
Carefully tuning my ears, I could hear that gentle grumble my dark-type Pokémon gave in reply—he must be enjoying the attention almost as much as I. If Pokémon had genitals, maybe he’d be even as erect as myself, though a cursory glance between the illusion Pokémon’s thighs reconfirmed that, no, he did not suddenly grow a penis upon that smooth groin fur. Even so, I couldn’t stop myself from sucking on those toes any more than I could stop myself from breathing. Sure, I could pause, but the need would overcome my will, and I would return to kissing and smooching that clawed toe, licking its sweaty underside and musky form.

Goddamn, they tasted even better than they smelled. Sure, that bitterish dark-chocolate scent was present, but as I tongued along each toe and its pad, wrapping my tongue around the digits and nursing them, its true taste came into being, of being just slightly sweeter than that cocoa, with a hint of saltiness from the Zoroark’s sweat.
Giving a hard suck, I popped my lips clean of one toe, immediately diving down onto the next. The base taste remained constant, though this had a bit more of a bitter flavor, just subtle enough to be noticeable. Closing my eyes, I bobbed my head down upon that short digit, licking underneath that pawpad to where the toe was connected to my Zoroark’s soft-furred foot. His claw flexed along my tongue, lightly scraping it as I suckled his paw-toes in such an intimate and perverse way.
The way that toe wiggled in my mouth, seeming to seek out the wetter parts of my tongue made me wonder about such digit’s dexterity. Of course, I didn’t—couldn’t voice my thoughts out loud with the toe taking the attention of my tongue, but my internal wondering was answered not a few moments later of having the thought.
My Zoroark’s paw shifted atop my lap, sliding down until the ball of his foot was pushed right up against my shaft, his toes near my waistband and dip. Somehow his claws twitched and twisted in such a way to undo that button-clasp, and a single point dipped into the hole of that zipper-pull, slowly unzipping my groin until my bulging out underwear were clearly visible to the illusion-fox.
I could feel his stare at it, not curious, not mocking. With one layer of clothing out of the way, his sudden returning press felt as if multiplied tenfold, and I wasn’t able to stop my loud moan over his middle toe, tickling the digit just slightly as I breathed over it. If that’s what the feeling of his sole could do without even touching me… I shuddered to think of what could happen when it fully pushed up against my shaft.
As his paw shifted against my clothed rod, I bucked up, feeling the moistness where my tip had drooled out a rather messy amount of sticky precum. All from my Zoroark’s feet, too—my priorities were a mess. Couldn’t have a normal relationship with another human, no, I had to be attracted to my Zoroark’s damn sexy paws.
Suckling hard, I slipped myself off that middle toe with a plop, and sunk down on his third and final one. It was perfect. That earlier bitterness from the middle toe was subdued, and the salty taste of my Zoroark’s sweat and sweet-ish flavor of his musk mixed together in a perverse harmony that I couldn’t get enough of. I let out a little groan, feeling my face grow hot as the Zoroark whose foot I worshipped pressed his opposite into my groin, lowering the heel until it pressed firmly against my pent balls, swollen and plump with that constant arousal I felt.
It was distracting enough that I missed that motion where the Zoroark pulled my underwear down with his paw too, slipping my full arousal out into the open, warm air. What I didn’t miss, as I so hungrily sucked upon and drooled over that third and final toe, was the feeling of his bare sole against my bare skin. An electric tingle of pleasure surged through my body from that erotic, forbidden contact. I could barely breathe, both from pleasure and that saliva pooling in my mouth from my licking. Gulping I adjusted myself, pushing my member firmer against the dark-type’s foot, moaning out against his digit.
His paw slid down, pinning my shaft between two toes, squeezing them together and stroking my length in its entirety, from head to base with his foot. His heel bumped down against my sack, putting just a

slight bit of pleasurable pressure to my balls and I couldn’t help but gasp out once again, inhaling the rich scent of the fox’s foot right after. How could he read my mind like so, doing just the things I wanted, teasing me in such powerful, potent ways. It was maddening how much control my Pokémon had over me, the trainer—in this situation at least.
But if I got to lick my Zoroark’s feet, then I’d be happy to be obedient to him. That sweat on his toes was so addictive, so tasteful that I couldn’t stop myself from sucking every last drop off of it. Pulling free of that toe I brought my lips back to the base of that sole, licking and kissing the soft pad upon it, sucking clean the slight amount of salty sweat and musk, breathing lustfully on that foot. Finally, it tensed up in my hand, and I opened my eyes, seeing it withdraw from my face. I tried to follow, but the Zoroark pushed with that other paw against my groin, keeping me at a cool distance, before that paw too left my body.
The frown on my face went away a moment later, however, as my Zoroark lied on his back and placed both of those delicious, tempting feet together, forming a small opening between them, the use of which, judging by his cocky smirk was for me. And who was I to resist the owner of those feet?
I stood, slipping my pants down fully and stepped out of them. My dick twitched at the sight of those pressed feet, and I brought my length forward, setting it upon the crevice between them. Oh, how I wanted to take that hole between those paws so badly, but firstly…
Giving a grind, I thrust my length forward, sliding it along that crack between feet, drooling precum down them and slickening their form. I pulled back, doing the same to the bottom edge, those pushed together heels. Finally, my cockhead was poised perfectly, and I slowly, slowly sunk into that warm between-feet gap.
Absolute heaven. Pleasure spikes shot up my spine, and I closed my eyes, giving a low groan as my dick slipped between those paws, shaft massaged by the arches of my Zoroark’s feet. I hardly had a moment to thrust before he started to move his feet over my rod, stroking and jerking it off with a mixture of both roughness and gentleness. I held myself steady, bent just slightly over my Zoroark as he stroked off my member with his paws.
Already I could feel that winding sensation in my lower groin, like a coiling spring tightening up before it’d be released. How skilled was my Pokémon? Or was it because I loved his feet so much that any touch of them was like a pleasurable fire? Either way, I could feel my balls lift up, nesting beneath my shaft and tensing up as they neared their limit. My Zoroark’s gaze drifted up to my face, but I was too embarrassed to even open my eyes. His feet gave one final squeeze together, smushing into my shaft and pulling back, jerking it just that little bit more that I needed for release.
He must have sensed it, too, as those paws, swished around my rod and squeezed tightly with his toes triggering my orgasm. A thick jet of rope splurted out from my tip, landing upon the Zoroark’s upturned sole, leaving a creamy white strand of cream upon it. Then another joined the first, and another after that. My length twitched and jerked, continuously shooting out rope after rope of cream before finally its orgasm ebbed to a stop, and I was left panting, eyelids cracking open to see my Zoroark’s cum- covered feet. Uff, if I hadn’t just came that’d set me off once more.
His feet slid away from my length, and I bent down, grasping one sticky paw in my hand, stroking it gingerly. That cream smeared all over his pad, growing messy and slick. As soon as it was evenly

coated, I moved to the second, and rubbed that one to an even coating too. The Zoroark rolled forward, poking his snout against my shoulder. He stretched out his legs, keeping the wet soles from touching the ground. Seems like that was all the attention I was going to get to give to them today. Putting on my pants, I made a mental note to include more foot-based training for the Zoroark.
Because I want to lick my Zoroark’s feet. Again.