Taschmonchen

One - Lightning

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All characters are over the age of eighteen.

Don't expect sex just yet - this is a set up for more.

The inspiration should be clear, but don't expect the rules to play the same. I'm doing my own thing, with my own lore.

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Eighteen!

Eighteen was the age of excitement, the age of adventure! All the doors of life that had remained stubbornly locked were suddenly flung wide open. You could get your license to drive or fly. You could get a job that wasn't minimum wage or enrol into university. You could buy alcohol, and learn what a hangover was, the hard way.

However, the biggest and most exciting part of adulthood was the fact you could get a permit to own a monchen!

No one quite knew where they had come from. The world wasn't always quite so crowded by variety. Ancient tales and archaeology digs said that humans had once dominated the landscape so badly that species were rapidly disappearing, and a global extinction seemed inevitable. Not that it was the first time that particular thing loomed.

However, at some point after humanity started to regress, the monchen had appeared.

Millions of new species, all of them appearing near-human in most regards. Monchen were intelligent, mostly, but they had an affinity for nature that humans lacked. Preferring to live wild than in cities. However, it quickly became apparent they couldn't survive without humanity's help.

Monchen, every single one of them, were born female.

Most of them were fertile, and they only gave birth to more of their kind, but no males were ever born. They depended on humanity to supply them with the next generation. Many monchen species went extinct whilst humanity debated the ethics of sex with nonhuman entities.

It wasn't helped by monchen's naturally submissive attitudes. They seemed to almost universally want to be owned. This sent the already incensed cults and religions into a frenzy. Demanding everything from genocide to government mandated harems.

Eventually, an equilibrium was struck.

Government permits were granted to any eighteen year old. Allowing a human to own, trade, and capture monchen. In return, the monchen would lend their extraordinary abilities to their trainers, who would help them unlock their full potential.

However, though gaining a permit was easy the first time, keeping one, or getting one if the first was lost, was nothing short of unheard of. The trainer had to go through regular gruelling audits, showing that they kept their monchen well-groomed, entertained, and happy. The trainer also had to submit regular research reports.

For a well-trained monchen, they tended to get jobs, going off and being a productive member of society before returning home to their trainers.

Of course, to an eighteen year old like Roter, the part that was most exciting was the breeding program. Which was why, six months after his eighteenth birthday, he found himself striding into the local monchen laboratory, with an appointment to see the world expert on breeding monchen.

Professor Morgenlatte was in his office, muttering in front of his computer. The old man's grey hair was standing on end, and he was sipping at an acrid black liquid. The old man didn't hear Roter enter the room.

There were several other people in the room.

In one corner of the room were three assistants in lab coats and loose slacks. They were loudly gossiping about a new centrefold girl in Barely Permitted. Apparently she was an exotic breed, but Roter had heard her name in a few places recently. She was a blitzchen, and her special ability was either channelling lightning, or an electrifying touch, depending on who you asked.

Blissbun was the newest rising star.

The centrefold they were drooling over depicted a brightly smiling girl in a bikini. She was sitting on a boulder, along a beach, brunette hair trailing out behind her. A lightning bolt shaped tail lay behind her, and her cheeks were a deep red - as if she had just heavily exerted herself.

Thanks to the way her hips were twisted, you could just barely see a dark purplish birthmark peeking out the top of her bikini bottoms - the blemish just making her seem cuter.

Her bright yellow eyes stared into the camera, and her smile had even managed to capture the attention of the researchers more than her impressive bust. She had a way of smiling for the camera that could let yourself believe she was smiling at you directly.

Unfortunately, from what Roter had heard, she was also a massive bitch. She only did her modelling work because it was what her trainer wanted. She cussed out the staff she worked with, and had a shitty habit of tossing lightning into any other monchen who strayed too close to her.

He could admit she was hot, but he found the attitude and treating people badly to be boner killing. He'd never gone in for entitled women, well, been interested in them. He would hate to be her trainer.

In another corner of the room were four women. One of whom Roter, unfortunately, recognised instantly. Even with her head to the back of him it was impossible to miss Blauer. She had a natural energy, curiosity, and confidence that generally put her at the centre of attention.

There were two things about Blauer that made Roter want to turn and run when he saw her.

Firstly, she was a monchen genius. Not just a fanatic, an actual savant. The woman could walk up to just about any monchen, even one she'd never seen before, and in about five minutes they'd be gabbing on in the monchen's native tongue, laughing and best of friends.

She and Roter were both acknowledged by the town as likely trainers of the future. They were the same age, plus or minus twenty four hours. Which meant that they had taken the same aptitude tests. The same exams, they had even passed the permit exam on the same day.

Every single time, Blauer had come in first. Sometimes by as little as a single point... But Roter had never beaten her at a single thing.

Secondly, Blauer was Roter's childhood sweetheart. They'd grown up next door to each other, climbing over the fence into each other's backyards. Grown up talking about how they were going to be married one day, right up until... A little after their eighteenth birthday.

Roter had hurt her badly, through something he had said and hadn't meant. He'd tried to tell her she was an inspiration, making him want to be better than he was. To know more about the wonderful world of monchen. Blauer had taken it to mean he wanted to be the first man to breed with every kind of monchen, called him a pervert, and walked away.

She hated his existence.

The three women that Blauer were chatting with, were monchen. Starters, they were partially trained by Professor Morgenlatte, intended for new trainers like Roter and Blauer. Given to help kickstart their researching adventures.

Why did the professor have to schedule the two of them at the same time?

Roter took a deep breath and crossed the room, "Hey, Blauer."

"Hey, pervert." She glared at him, "Oh my god. Please tell me that you're just here to jack it. The professor didn't agree to actually give you one of these girls, did he? No one deserves to be your monchen."

He winced, "You get a job as his assistant, too?"

"Oh, fuck. You've got to be kidding me." She turned up her nose.

"Hmm? Oh! Roter! You're here!" The professor finally noticed them. The old man stood up, rubbing his hands together and crossed the room. "Your aptitude tests make for exciting reading! Your thesis on influencing the reproductive cycle of the feuerchen is particularly interesting reading!"

Roter wanted to dig a hole and climb into it as Blauer shot him a hateful glare. Two of the monchen looked at the third, whose cheeks went crimson. The fire-haired woman looked anywhere but in Roter's direction, which was understandable.

The old man blinked in surprise, "Oh. Blauer. Was today your day, as well? Oh, um... You can have the wassechen, I suppose."

All three monchen suddenly started protesting, loudly begging the professor to change his mind. Not to split them up, that they thought of each other as sisters.

He held up a hand, "Now, now. You know you have to go to a trainer. That's how things work, here. Blauer can't be expected to take care of all three of you at once, can she? The stipend of a research assistant is nothing. Until she gets a decent government grant, she'll struggle to feed even just one of you. Be practical."

"I have a grant, professor." Blauer said with a smirk, "My proposal on crossbreeding through embryo hybridisation was approved this morning. If you don't mind, I'd actually like to take them all."

Morgenlatte stared for a moment, and then he smiled, "Oh, of course it was. Whoever was I thinking about? You're our prodigy. I hope you'll bring more than just your confidence to our breeding program, Blauer... But... What about Roter? I was going to give him one, too."

Blauer sneered, "The pervert? Why don't you give him the bitch?"

"You don't mean..." Morgenlatte said in a hushed whisper.

Roter's rival smiled at him cruelly, "I know she's here. She even chased these three out of the back room, before claiming your own bed, professor. She'll suit the perv to a capital P."

The professor frowned, "How did your grant application go, Roter? You put a few into the government pool. Any takers?"

He sighed and winced, knowing he was playing right into Blauer's hands. "I got a bare approval on one of them. An investigatory grant to explore possible fertility increases during moment of romantic tension."

"Only investigatory?" She sneered at him, "I got trial approval. I can't believe someone actually bought your bullshit."

"Now, now. Don't need to be teaching the girls that kind of language." Morgenlatte admonished, and then shrugged, "I suppose we'll just have to do that. Girls, be nice to Blauer. Don't give them too much leeway, they're not ignorant to the way of things, Blauer. No spoiling them."

"Yes, professor." Roter's heart felt shattered as he saw his old crush suddenly perk up and smile. All three monchen hugged each other and their new trainer, talking over each other excitedly in their native tongues.

The old man signalled for him to follow, leading Roter into the back of the laboratory, passing boxes of pregnancy tests, before entering into a bedroom with more sex toys lining the walls than he had seen in his entire life. All of them seemed to be modelled on celebrity monchen, which meant they weren't part of the research program.

Roter forgot his disappointment, and Blauer's attitude, when he saw the naked woman lying on top of the professor's sheets.

She was lying facedown, her mess of brown hair hiding her features. Her butt was in the air, knees drawn up underneath her. Extending upwards into the air with a jagged spike of yellow was her tail, crackling visibly with static electricity.

He didn't understand how it was possible that it was her, but he recognised the reddish-purple birthmark lying across one of her hips like a fist-sized stain. He had seen her picture not five minutes ago.

"The other assistants don't know she's here, do they?" Roter asked in a whisper.

The professor shook his head, and whispered back, "She got here last night. Her trainer finally just... Snapped. Said she was impossible to work with. She was bred in captivity, we can't just let her go back to the wilds, but she's... Impossible."

"I can hear you, assholes!" The woman snapped, sitting up and turning to face them angrily. Her heavyset breasts blowing Roter's mind and making him stare as they heaved. Her nipples were a bright pink, and hardened in the cool air as he tried to drag his eyes away.

She pointed her index finger at the new trainer, lifting her thumb and sneered, "Buzz."

She drew down her thumb, and Roter found himself knocked off his feet. He grabbed at his chest, feeling the frantic thudding of his heart. His muscles screamed in pain - all of them.

"Bliss!" Morgenlatte yelled angrily, "What was the agreement? I let you sleep here, and not in the rain, and you don't shock my assistants!"

Blissbun rolled her yellow eyes and crossed her arms under her tits, sneering down at Roter, still twitching on the ground. "I'm not having him for a trainer, professor. No way. I'd rather have to suck you off all day than ever touch that thing."

"No one ever forces you to do anything, Bliss." Morgenlatte shook his head, "Now, apologise to Roter."

"Roter, get fucked." Blissbun said with a sweet smile.

"Language!"

The young trainer forced himself to his feet, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks. "B-buzz c-cannon. Th-that's a pretty juvenile spell for a blitzchen, isn't it? I would have thought you'd forgot how to do that. S-something like storm claw, would be more your age, wouldn't it?"

Her cheeks went a furious red, and she stared down at the bed, "I... I don't know that one."

"Flashdance?" He asked curiously.

She blushed harder and shook her head again. Roter looked over at the professor, "At least she knows snarl down, right?"

"No." Morgenlatte sighed heavily, "As her previous trainer put it... She's impossible. She hasn't learned a single thing. I hesitated to even consider pairing her with you, because you're part of the breeding program. She's a virgin, and can barely use her magic."

"I can too! You just saw me!" Blissbun protested angrily.

Roter suddenly got it. She might be famous for exposing her tits and ass, but the woman was completely innocent. She'd got by on her beauty alone for so long that she'd never picked up the skills to compete with anyone.

Her only skill was looking good for a camera, and she'd age out of that fairly quickly. Unless she was willing to up her game, she was screwed. An innocent virgin wouldn't be able to keep the slobbering fools around when she started to sag, and a talentless monchen wouldn't be getting a decent job.

Her trainer had dumped her not out of anything cold-hearted, but because the professor was her last hope to actually develop into someone useful, or the rest of her life was going to be one failure after another.

She'd end up serving fast food, if she was lucky.

The professor shrugged, "She's not a good fit for your study. However, Blauer was right. She needed all three that I had ready. So you can either try and convince Bliss to help you, or wait until I've managed to train up another feuerchen for you."

"A feuer!?" The woman yelled, tail crackling, "You're going to choose one of those, over me!?"

"At least they know how to wear clothes!" The professor waved a hand at her.

The woman's cheeks went bright red again and she looked down, "Clothes... Don't mix well, with me."

"The static charge. Clothes are uncomfortable because they pull in around you, right?" Roter said knowingly.

She looked up at him in surprise, "How did you...?"

"It makes sense." He shrugged, "There are antistatic fabrics. I assume you've tried some of them, before? How did that go?"

She shook her head, "They're... Ugly. I'm a model! I can't walk around looking like a crime scene investigator!"

"You're not a model, anymore. No one will work with you." The professor said in exasperation.

"No one?" Roter asked pointedly, trying to hint.

The professor frowned, thinking, "There might be a small photo shop in Eastre City that owes me a favour. He won't have many gigs, or anything that will hit national shelves. Just local adverts."

"Work with me." Roter spread his hands, "And I'll try and help you get back into the modelling industry. It's what you want, isn't it? To be known as a model?"

She nodded sadly, and he saw tears start to fall down her cheeks with little sparks.

He shrugged, "So... You'll work with me, then? Let me be your trainer?"

"I won't do what you tell me!" She said loudly and stiffly, and then looked down and burst into worse tears, "I... I don't trust you. Everyone leaves. Everyone always leaves."

The professor rubbed his hands together, "Oh, good. Let me know when the two of you have got to Eastre City, Roter. Ah. You'll also have your first audit when you get there, so try and... Manage some progress, somehow."

With that, Roter found himself alone in a room of sex toys, with a rather naked and attractive woman, who was crying. He felt like he was about to get arrested. Blauer would have a field day if she saw them right now.

He smiled nervously at her, "So... I suppose the first thing we should do is look up the tailor in Eastre City?"

She glared at him. "What trainer?"

"Tailor. Tailor." He repeated quickly, raising his hands, "Someone who makes custom clothes. We give him some antistatic fabric, he takes some measurements, and gives you a new outfit. One you might actually like to wear."

"Prefer to be naked." She muttered, glaring at him. However, there was a tiny twitch to the corner to her mouth that might be a small smile.

Roter nodded, "Okay. I won't make you, then. That's the way this is going to work. I'll make you suggestions, and you decide whether they're worth it. But... For that to work... I will need you to actually consider my suggestions."

"You know a lot about monchen, don't you?" She sneered, static sparking all over her, gathering into the redness on her cheeks.

He swallowed, "Theories, mainly. It'd be easier to name everything we know for certain, than everything we're not sure about. That's why there's so much research. Monchen are... Mysterious."

"Why did you want to be a breeding researcher?" She snarled, "Trying to fuck me?"

"Why does everyone assume that?" He moaned, "No. No, I'm not. I've never even slept with a girl who is the same species as me. Or, at all. It'd be pretty shit research if it was both my and your first time, wouldn't it?"

Blissbun pointed her finger at him, and he winced, "I said something wrong, didn't I?"

Her thumb came down, "Buzz."

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Roter still had minor twitches and discharges of static as the two started down the road towards the next city. His concerns, however, were mostly on Blissbun. She was a model, and she was currently naked and walking on a rough dirt pathway.

He didn't want to wreck her feet, but she absolutely refused to wear shoes.

"Blissbun?" Roter stopped, and crossed to the edge of the road, sitting down. "Can we take a minute?"

She glared angrily at him and pointed a finger, raising her thumb, "No."

"I think I can teach you something. And it'll mean you don't have to scuff your feet." He said, raising his hands, "I can't really afford to have you soak them when we get to Eastre City. Rough feet, do not a model make. I need a real grant first, before we can afford anything, and we're not going to get that any time soon, are we?"

She sneered, "I'm not your breeding girl."

"It's not a sex thing, it's a monchen thing." He sighed, rubbing his temples, "Why does everyone assume I'm just a sex fiend? I'm really not."

She lowered her hand, "Then why the breeding program?"

"Cellular transmorphism, to put it simply." Roter smiled sadly, "It's... It's an idea of mine. One I doubt I'll ever get to prove."

The woman knelt in front of him, "I'm a model, human. What the fuck is transmorphism?"

"It's... An idea." Roter said carefully, "I'm going to explain. But... Try not to be offended by it? Please. I don't want to have a heart attack before I've at least got you a house to sleep in."

She crossed her arms, hiding her nipples, "Fine. I'll try."

"There's been three cases, just three, where a regular audit of a monchen's magical ability turned up something odd. Their cells were unstable." Roter said quietly, "Usually, that means that they're on the verge of getting very sick. I think it means something else, because it turned out that the thing that all three had in common, was that they were pregnant. Days since it had taken."