Riddle's origins were a complete mystery, as cliche as that might have been to say. 

The handsome purple furred arcanine simply showed up wherever and whenever he liked before quietly settling himself into whatever spacious area could comfortably house his enormous five hundred pound bulk. The casual indifference with which he did so with often left many baffled, as such things were not usual for their breed, yet even more startling was how casually the firedog went about his day following his entrance into the town or city in question. One would think that such an unusual creature would be very out of place in most small towns, given that he was over nine feet tall, a fact that often raised eyebrows once he stood next to a normal sized arcanine, however his gentle nature and defensive stance against those with evil in their hearts made him into something of a cultural hero in the eyes of those who had become downtrodden by the villains of the world. 

His name was something of an urban legend within itself, as no one actually knew what his true name was, given that he didn't bear a collar around his neck, and no record of him existed anywhere within any database that could be found. Given the advanced technology of the time one would have thought that it would have been easy enough for researchers to pinpoint where he had come from and why he was the way that he was, but no. It didn't help that Riddle didn't care to let others poke and prod at him, the last professor who had tried to as such had found himself with a burned down lab after attempting to capture the other within a pokeball specifically tailored to capturing fire types. To this day there were many who thought that the arcanine had responded as he did in poetic irony, but since Riddle didn't exactly speak the human language, and rarely held conversations with other pokemon, it was impossible to know for sure.

Despite this, there was no denying that those who befriended him quickly fell in love with the oversized bundle of warm fur, especially after he laid on top of someone in order to get scratches along his chin and back behind his ears. Children couldn't help but adore him, seeing as his playful antics gave way to many of them finding comfort within his embrace whenever he hugged them tightly into his paws. His slobbery licks along their faces and bellies were especially wondrous, as he seemed to know all the right spots to tickle with his tongue in order to pull out the loudest of giggles from whoever he had captured. However no matter how close Riddle grew to someone a sudden change in the wind would always send him moving off into the unknown. 

That he routinely purchased himself passage onto a ship was honestly startling for those who looked at the massive firedog with a pouch filled with coins dangling precariously from in between his fangs, since such a thing had never been recorded from any other arcanine in the history of ever. Mostly only protested once or twice he attempted such a thing, however they quickly got themselves into check after Riddle narrowed his hot, golden eyes onto them. It was very rare for Riddle to let out a snarl of indignation, as he was quite the calm and calculated creature, however his patience was a facet of being not to be tested, if only because the firedog had no problem releasing a booming bark of anger or snapping his glittering fangs in front of someone's face if they crossed him. 
The first he had done so had scared the ship attendant so badly that the police were called in to handle the situation, which then erupted into a fight that had left several with second degree burns and his pelt soaked in freezing water. 

Least to say, he got his passage onto the ship in question after that; the question of where he had gotten his money from had come from a rescue worker going live on the airwaves to report that Riddle had helped him and his team pull out those trapped within a series of collapsed tunnels within the nearby mountain range.

This broadcast had spun the rumor mill into questioning just what was up with the strange arcanine; given that there didn't seem to be any rhyme nor reason as to why he went to the places that he did the stories revolving around Riddle became as such that most saw him as a good omen come to life whenever he appeared along the borders of a city or town, especially seeing as he would dutifully use the ever burning fire within his belly to burn away pests within berry fields, or use the strength within his massive barrel of a chest to push back against falling materials which threatened lives, or charge across the vast expanse of a city with his thick, canine legs in order get those in need to a hospital or medical center. The tales of him rushing into a burning building to save the people within were so numerous that in some parts of the world he had garnered the nickname 'Burning Savorior, something for which Riddle took great pride in, if the way he puffed up his chest when such a title was thrown around was anything to go by.

Despite this, most came to know Riddle from his time working with the local police in order to take down the more robust criminal elements that often left the police helpless to stop the rising tide of crime within their province. 

With all of this in mind though, there were just so many questions and so little answers revolving around the arcanine that more than a few people with doctorates under their names had attempted to discern the truth behind the mysterious arcanine by chasing after him in order to learn more about his puzzling nature and almost genius level intellect, yet no matter how long they traveled after him not one of them had been able to unravel the mystery that was Riddle. The few who had managed to stay on his tail long enough often found themselves baffled by his ability to become like smoke in the breeze following a long run along the wild plains of the Sinnoh Region or completely losing sight of him after he faded into darkness while walking through the volcanic underbelly of the Hoenn Region, however they were the lucky ones, as there were some researchers who had simply disappeared following their attempts to chase the other through the more rough terrains that the arcanine liked to travel across. 

Stories quickly began to abound as to what had happened to these unfortunate souls after the third time someone had up and vanished while tracking Riddle; panicked whispers flew throughout medical centers that perhaps the arcanine had savagely torn these said individuals apart before devouring their bones to hide the evidence of what they had found out about him, yet very few actually believed such wild tales, especially given how he would always shepherd children home if the hours grew late enough that the sun threatened to set over the area where he had been resting. He was just too cute to be such a callous monster, after all. 

With that said though, there were stories which blossomed amongst those trainers who had foolishly attempted to forcefully try and make the firedog into their companion, stories which were muttered underneath one's breath instead of being spoken aloud. The reason for this was because these stories were just so embarrassing that most chose not to retell what would happen to them should they inevitably lose when trying to capture the powerhouse of a fire type after coming across him within whatever area he had claimed as his slumbering grounds.

Those who were brave enough to speak up would whisper about how, after having their pokemon soundly defeated by Riddle blitzing into them while being covered in sparkling gold and orange flames or after using his extreme speed to knock them off to the side out of the way, he would march up to the foolish teenager in question and then huff out a stream of animalistic laughter in front of their faces before slapping them across the back of the head with a paw. Because of his size and build, not to mention his annoyance at having been pelted by water, rocks, and other assorted elements, virtually none of the trainers would be able to hold up underneath the force of his sudden assault, thus they would be sent down onto their hands and knees before the massive fire dog. 

What happened next ultimately depended on Riddle's mood and the gender of said trainer: usually the massive canine would simply let the others go with a warning bark, the same as a parent would to a child who was dangerously close to crossing their nerves, however if he were in a particular 'mood' of sorts, well...things got a lot more interesting. 

To show how pissed off he was at female trainers for thinking that they could somehow tame the indomitable power he wielded, Riddle would saunter over to the shaken girl with the causal grace of a predator looking to make a show of things to the prey he would soon obliterate, before knocking them over onto their rear end with a firm thrust of his head. Once the downed teen was left looking up at his imposing form, the quivers of fear slowly starting to set in as they thought about how big of a mistake they had made to try and take down such a powerful creature, Riddle would smirk at them. The human expression was often startling to those who witnessed it, as it often confirm that there was more going on upstairs within the arcanine's mind than what many had been led to believe, yet there was no denying that upon him moving forward and then lifting up his hind leg the trainer in question would be left aghast what happened next. 

To say that Riddle relished such clear fear would have been quite true, given how he would often sneer down at the girl in question while clenching his internal muscles in just the right manner to arouse his slumbering manhood. 

The sight of his massive sheath twitching like a restless arbok before releasing the black knob within, engorged with just enough blood to let the pointed tip peak out but not fully arouse it to semi-hardness, would be the only fanfare to announce the stream of discontent which would blast out from Riddle's manhood. 

The hot arching spray would always burn as it streamed along the trainer's chest and neck before the stale, sour line moved up to their pretty little faces. Riddle would often chuckle as he watched how the trainer would who thought themself capable of actually mastering the power he held would yelp and then plead in desperation for him to stop while crossing their arms up over themselves in a futile effort to try and repel the flood of yellow raining down across their clothes and skin. There would be no recourse for the other of course, because, assuming they tried to roll out of the way of the flowing river of bitter liquid, Riddle would stomp his paw down onto their legs and then spray them from bottom up. How long the spray would last would be a subject of great debate, one for which none wanted to have, and yet by the end the arcanine always let out a satisfied huff after the last of from his bladder had seeped out from the tip of his foot and a half long spire of flesh.

Once he was through with them, Riddle would lower his leg and then turn to set off about his way in order to leave the teenager to think about the folly of their attempts to try and put him under their heel while lingering within a puddle of their despair. 

The silence of the moment coupled within the  humiliation of having the massive firedog's bitter urine covering them was enough to cause more than one girl to give up her journey, seeing as no one had prepared them to deal with such a rancid happening. 

Ironically enough, many thought of them as the lucky ones, because if the trainer in question who had challenged Riddle was male, well...they were fucked. 

Quite literally. 

Riddle seemed to take an almost perverse delight in humiliating those whose gender matched his own; glittering golden eyes would always shine like twin coals set light by the hottest of flames as the watched the teen come to realize how bad their decision had been to take him on after seeing their first or final pokemon lay defeated at the firedog's feet. The knowledge that all of their efforts, all of their training, all of their determination had been crushed by a wild arcanine would dance along their cute little faces for several seconds before Riddle would shake himself down from the attack that had failed to defeat him. Once his fur was free of the elements which clung to his usually matted fur and tangled fur, the firedog would lick his broad tongue across his sneering lips before sauntering over to the confused human child.

Once he was close enough to them that they could smell the often meat laden stink of his panting breaths, Riddle would not only smack them around several times with his gargantuan paws like a persian playing with a pichu, but he sniff and snort his way around their bodies as though he were about to begin a bout of playing. The arcanine would then slather his sopping tongue along their often lanky bodies in a mock show of affection that was so pointed that the boy in question couldn't help but be embarrassed by what was happening to him. Some would think to try and fight against him, for their impudence Riddle would nibble along their shoulders and thighs, piercing the clothes they were wearing in order to make them aware of the danger he possessed before glaring at them. They quickly settled down after that. Yet most boys understood that they were due the punishment he seemed to have planned out for them, and thus remained still as he went about his work. 

Riddle loved this naivety so much.

The firedog would take such time and care in making sure the boy knew what was happening to him that some would find themselves moaning and struggling against his gargantuan tongue as he slurped his way underneath the shirts they were wearing in an effort to taste their sweat drenched skin, many did not however, as they would be left perplexed by what exactly they should have been feeling at the time and what their bodies were telling them, especially when he dipped his tongue inside of their pants and then over their boy bits. These were the types that he enjoyed punishing the most, as could often be seen in how he would stare them down with a look of confident condemnation that the youths couldn't help but feel ashamed by what was happening to them, despite the blood rushing down south into their groins; the situation was usually made worse for them when their downed partners, coming back to consciousness moments later, would look to find them being dutifully assaulted by the towering tongue which coated them in silver saliva. Embarrassment quickly flooded most trainer's faces, yet a rare few would seem to blush in arousal at being seen getting tongued over by the firedog. A stern glare from Riddle would cease any and all movement to try and help the boys in question, thus leaving the others helplessly watching on as the firedog worked his hapless victim over. 

After he was sure that the human was thoroughly soaked with his drool, Riddle would then move them over and around so that they would have a clear view of his fat sheath and twin oblong balls dangling in between his meaty thighs. 

At this point the question of the boy's sexuality would often come up: those who had no inclinations for what was obviously about to happen would whine and squirm and beg and cry for him to stop. He wouldn't of course. This was a part of their punishment, after all. Those who were into such activities or who may have been slowly treading along the lines of this sort of intimate interaction would find themselves curiously looking upon the pitch black pouch of flesh coated with that thick, earthy musk that set their loins to throbbing and their mouths to watering. 

For those whose eyes lit up at the thought of the deviancy which would soon take place between them, Riddle would give them a moment to contemplate what exactly was about to happen, swishing his hips back and forth in a tantalizing manner in order to fixate the trainer's eyes upon the fleshy prize dangling in front of them, before stepping forward and then pressing his sweaty groin deep into their faces. For the former, he just stuffed their faces into sheath to shut them up, after all, it was they who had picked a fight with him and lost, so it was their own fault for literally getting their asses into this situation. A fact he would make clear soon enough.

The feeling of tiny tongues and puckered lips pressing along the folds of his wrinkled skin was always something that set Riddle's tongue to lolling out from his heated maw, however it was the sensation of domination over the trainers which proved to be the sweetest sensation he could feel, especially when the boy's partner was left watching as he decimated the human's sense of control over himself, not to mention their budding sexuality. The looks in the other's eyes were often mixed; a sense of uncertainty would usually fill their glaring orbs, however the gleam of jealousy which shone not so deep underneath would be what Riddle relished in the most, as it would confirm his own superiority, something the arcanine enjoyed to no end, though the fear that also danced within at their helplessness to stop the events taking place was nice, too. Riddle didn't think that he was addicted to such feelings, but it would have been a lie to say that his next few thrusts weren't particularly hard as he dragged his sloppy sheath back and forth along the boy's heated face. 

The squirms he would feel as the trainers attempted to try and get clean air were oh so wonderful to feel, as it reinforced the fact that he was in complete control of their entire beings, and yet upon giving them what they sought, listening to their gasps of relief as they finally breathed in the much needed oxygen and then stuffing them back where they belonged, excited the arcanine to the point where his massive tail beat along the ground like a mallet hitting a well oiled drum. The booming sound of his ecstasy coming into being was a sound that those who had experienced such depraved passions earlier on would quickly scurry out of range of, as more than a few groins would harden upon hearing the familiar staccato-like music echoing throughout the public park, or near the local fishing river, or inside of the empty warehouse where Riddle had been slumbering in before he had been so rudely interrupted from his nap. Having the tip of his cock poking along the teenager's forehead, wetting their cheeks and then dipping into their lips as the pitch black flesh around massaged the front of the youth's face would often leave the firedog panting in need, yet he resisted in letting things end too quickly. 

He needed the boy to know how much he had fucked up and why his attempts to try and master what was essentially a sentient force of nature was a foolish, nay, stupid idea. One in which he would live to contemplate for years to come during the darkest of nights while alone in his room. 

The grinding, pumping, thrusting motions that encompassed Riddle's thighs and groin would continue on for who knew how long as the arcanine drank in desperate struggles of the human beneath him. The wet squelching sounds of his flesh on flesh, his sheath sucking along a reddening face, would make for a twisted symphony as the arcanine worked himself into a frenzy. The youth would of course try and back himself up as much as he could to get away so that he could breath, but his attempts would be easily countered by a strong paw grabbing onto the back of his head and then holding him in place, or sometimes pushing him in further until the entirety of his neck was lost within the folds of the suffocatingly hot expanse. The moaning whimpers of the trainer often sent the right set tingles running along Riddle's nerves, making him lol out his tongue as the tip of his growing spear of flesh pushed up into the boy's mouth. 

However like all good things Riddle knew when enough was enough, and so once he was satisfied he would relinquish his control over the trainer's face by popping the boy's head out from the grip of his sheath he would shake himself down so as to relieve the sparks of pleasure which always ran along the back of his spine on down to the tip of his toes during such lessons. By this point the dazed boy would not know which way was up, his glassy eyes would often be left rolling somewhat as his starved lungs attempted to try and soak up as much clean air as they could in order to try and make his brain work correctly. That his nose would be stuck smelling the scent of the arcanine's musk for days on end was something that would only come to the forefront of the youth's mind after he noticed that no amount of washing his face would get the rich, tangy odor out of his thoughts. That was for later though, right then the youth's biggest concern would be him trying to get out of the way of the spiraling black obelisk pushing free from Riddle's saliva drenched sheath.

This ultimately would be a useless pursuit, as the arcanine would have completely locked the human into place in between his muscular legs. With his body trapped as it was by the massive firedog the trainer would be left watching as the tapered flesh pointed further and further into his face, almost as though it were accusing him of the situation which was occurring right then, before it dug itself firmly against his quivering lips. Hot and hard like a burning piece of lumber, the scalding touch of the arcanine's manhood would almost sear the flesh it touched as it branded itself deep into the boy's lips. Most wouldn't know what to do, and thus they would attempt to try and force Riddle's phallus away from their mouths in order to prevent what was about to come, a warning growl was all the teen would need to hear in order to know how bad a decision that was. 

A whimpering moan would follow with the next lesson as Riddle would give his hips a few tentative humps before growing still. Those who were left confused by the obviousness of what was expected would find a familiar paw gracing the back of their head and then showing them forward. It only took a minute for most to get the point, something that often pleased the arcanine as he rolled his hips from side to side while thumping his back leg against the ground in glee, but even when it didn't Riddle was a patient creature. It would be long before the boy would accept his place at the firedog's groin and thus open his mouth in order to perform his first foray into the endearing world of fellatio. Riddle would then slowly buck his rear end back and forth, scraping his cock along the youth's tongue, grinding his pre-cum seeping tip down in between the youth's tonsils before moving himself on further.

Because of the girth of his breeding tool most trainers would not be able to take more than a few inches down their throats, but that was more than enough to please the arcanine, as his real prize was waiting for him further down below. With that thought in mind, Riddle would set about gently shuffling his hips from side to side, all the while humping his hips forward in an obviously seductive manner towards the other spectator to the show off what was happening right then. The sounds of human and beast copulating would be one in which those within the immediate area would find themselves growing more heated by, as the animal instinct to want to breed was one that most males were helpless to resist, even more so as the stink of canine intermixed with the sweat of boy and air to make a perfectly perverted perfume of lust which all present helplessly drank deep into. 

More often than not the trainer's partner would be left grunting in a futile attempt not to enjoy the sight of their masters being used as they were, yet it would be all too easy to see how much they wanted to be doing what Riddle was to their boy. The envy, black as night and as hot as boiling oil, would shine through the other's eyes as they looked on with quaking need, while twitching wings, slithering tentacles, gaping maws, and snorting noses would highlight just how much they reviled the arcanine for taking what should have rightfully been theirs to claim. Riddle never failed to apologize to the others with a none too subtle wink, his sorrow at what was becoming of them quite clear...in that it didn't exist.

Over half of those who stood watching Riddle's fat balls swaying wildly back behind his back would have loved to get in close to the arcanine in other to sample the taste of the sweat covered orbs, not to mention the puckered rear which clenched in excitement over the forced oral he was receiving, yet a deep snarl kept all those who dared to move forward from getting too close. 

The others watching would quickly cement themselves into place after seeing the purple canine's massive head flip around to bear ivory fangs at them, however despite the promise of pain, something for which turned many watching on rather bizarrely, they would be left massaging growing hardons as the arcanine pounded his way down through the line of their master's widening throat. The knowledge that the firedog's sticky precum was being swallowed with heavy gulps, forcibly making the trainer's throat bob up and down in a twisted show of appreciation for what was happening, would make the human's companion shudder and then groan with need, much to Riddle's delight. 

The moans of the youth down below would quickly draw the firedog's focus back to the task at hand, as the quiet croons would often play out like a gentle melody across the arcanine's ears, especially so when they would be accompanied by the subtle back and forth movements of eager trainers looking to get more of the thick, black shaft in between their puffy lips. Riddle, always being one to please, would graciously grant them what they so desired. 

Defeated moans would be the reward for his gift, along with the hot snorting huffs that swept along his foot and a half long prick. Ivory claws would dig deep furrows into the ground moments after he raised his head up to moan out his own cry of joy for the sensual, intimate moment taking place between man and arcanine. His sounds of elation would always be cut short however as his cock, usually throbbing with the need to ejaculate, would draw him back to the reality of the situation in question. It would be then when Riddle would bring a pause to things. He didn't want the play in question to end with his splooge falling down into the boy's gut, at least not in this way. 

No.

He wanted more. 

He wanted the sacred gift that could only be given once a lifetime in payment for the suffering he had endured not more than ten minutes earlier. 

Pulling back of the human's cavernous maw once he was sure that the tip of his manhood was wet enough for what was about to happen next, Riddle would set about rubbing his black pillar of flesh along the human's wet nose and sticky forehead, making sure that they got a good understanding of the power for which he possessed within his loins, before walking over them, his musky balls knocking heavily into their chins as he did so. Most teens would be left baffled as to why he had done such a thing. Riddle would swiftly answer their confusion by knocking them over onto their fronts, thus leaving their backsides exposed for all the world to see.

Once the boy lay before him, prone like an ancient offering being given to a legendary figure, the firedog would then use his ivory claws to tear through the back of the youth's clothes with a sudden swipe of his paw. The suddenness of the action would cause all of the trainers to yelp in surprise and fear. Riddle would always patronizingly chuckle down at them for their ignorance of these very common happenings, before wantonly licking his chops. After looking over the humans, and the bright red marks which covered their nubile backsides, the arcanine would subsequently move along the boy's prone form and then wiggle himself into position enough to press the tip of his massive breeding tool along the crux of the youth's rear end.

Had they been those for which the arcanine might have called mates or lovers the firedog would have spent his time slathering his drool soaked tongue along the cleft of their rumps, matting down the flesh along the rim of their puckers with his saliva until the small backdoors bloomed open for his inevitable entry - Riddle loved doing this to males who he actually could call friends, as the taste of the musky nectar within their tailholes made for a delicious meal for him - however as this was a lesson about power and who rightfully had it he would spare them no such consideration. 

Most boys, due in part to their age at the time of their journey, would have never had anything happen to them back there and so when Riddle began thrusting himself along the cleft of their rumps they would be left both confused and embarrassed by what was happening, if they still had no inclination for this sort of sexplay. However for those who did, they would find themselves panting hard and arching themselves up into the hot stalk of flesh which raked itself along their firm rumps. Some, those who would later go on to become some of the best sluts within the underground world of interspecies erotica, would lift their knees up and then reach back to spread their cheeks as wide as they could while babbling out nonsensical phrases in order to implore the big arcanine to have their way with them. 

Riddle loved these youths the most, as they made it easy for him to enjoy what would soon be taking place, however, the resistance by those who would come to vocally deplore such things was also delicious, as it meant that he had to work to make them scream out their praise for him. 

Maneuvering the tip of his penis down, Riddle settled the tapered end of his manhood at the puckering hole before him and then slammed his hips forward with all the grace of hammer meeting a nail. 

The howling cry of the boys who would soon become stuck along the width of his cock never failed to make Riddle's golden eyes glow hot with lust: this was the moment for which he would have often saved himself for, and upon digging down deep into their tight, little bodies, he would be left groaning in restrained relief. Eyes clenched, muzzle wrinkled tight, and nose flexing as he drank in the potent scent of innocence being robbed from the sweaty, musk laden form underneath him, Riddle would give the trainer about a minute to get used to what was happening to them before he would begin pistoning his hips forward. 

There would be no stopping his thrusts after this, the lust which had been boiling inside of his veins would demand that he take the small boy underneath him and then wring out for as much pleasure as could be found, his balls demanded it. Riddle, always one to obey the commands of his body, would gleefully set about doing as his instincts so desired; his hammering motions would bring about cries of pained delight from the trainers trapped down below, their youthful forms having in no way been prepared for the onslaught of sexual force for which was being ushered upon them. Riddle never cared about such a thing. This was the price the ones had to pay for thinking they could trap him inside of the tiny balls they carried along their belts; he would never let himself be trapped liked that again, he had carved his freedom deep within the bones of those who had once tried to oppress him, and while he knew well enough not to do such a thing to the ignorant human down below, he would impress a similar message throughout their entire beings. 

One in which they would never be able to forget as their bellies expanded and contracted around the massive pillar of black flesh which worked to degrade their sense of control over their minds.

The fact that the firedog was a master of the sexual arts due to his continuous building of his skills through events such as these, would quickly scramble the boy's thoughts about reality; some would plead with him for more, while others would simply whimper and groan along the ground in an effort to try and deny how good it felt to have that special place inside of their butts that they had never before known of. Their huffing breaths would sour their noses with the scent of the need coursing throughout their bodies, as the rich stink of arousal would waft up from their throbbing groins, into their faces, to then mix with the arcanine's odoriferous musk in order to start them drooling out along the floor. Looking up into the eyes of their faithful partners would reveal just how vulnerable and debased they were at that moment, as the other beast in question would be stroking themselves off while watching in embarrassment as their human was taken like a bitch beneath his stud. With eyes locked upon one another, the understanding of what would happen later on once this moment was over was cemented harder than the dozen or so inches of cock thrusting through their backsides.

Not that this mattered to Riddle. 

What was most important to him was the feeling of his knot growing along the base of his shaft. 
The twin mound of flesh, thick with blood as it would have been at that moment, desperately needed to be shoved into something in order to make the arcanine's budding climax as powerful as it should have been, and yet there was no way that the bowling ball sized orb would fit inside of them human down below, not without damaging them beyond repair, physically anyway. Seeing as he wasn't a monster Riddle wouldn't force this upon the youth's in question, yet he wouldn't be denied need within the heavy mound as it kissed the pert rump that he was delving inside of, and so he worked to grind himself as deep and hard as he could through the tight, clenching channel that was the trainer's body in order to get the most out of the flexing cheeks teasing his rock hard anatomy. The moans and groans of the defeated trainer would change by this point, becoming deeper and more vocal, as if the human could sense what would soon be taking place inside of him. 

The boys would offer up little resistance to his powerful thrusts; their sense of rationale by this point would have all but been obliterated anyway, and so after about ten or so minutes of Riddle pumping shaft down into them, his hot and heavy balls swaying almost demandingly against their lower calves as he did so, Riddle would find himself pressing his fat knot across the redden cheeks that he was claiming for his own before holding still. It only took a few seconds after this before Riddle's nuts would then draw up, setting off the firedog's potent orgasm. The arcanine would release a boisterous bark of triumph as his boiling hot cum would thoroughly violate the teen's colon as he sprayed his volcanic load deep inside of the human; his claim on the other's ass having been fully cemented as his nuts bobbed up and now while churning out the contents within with a restless passion. His potent sweat would drenched deep into the trainer's body as his masculine scent ran deep inside of both of their noses, a telltale mark of the outside of the boy's body to match the fiery brand which seared a path deep inside of his ass. The firedog would pull back and then slam himself forward twice over before lifting his head to howl out his victory for all the world to hear. 

His cum would quickly inseminate his shuddering sextoy to the point where the yellow spoolge would not only inflate the dazed trainer's belly to almost comical propositions, but seep out from the front of their throats in a twisted display of sexual perversion that only porn movies should have been capable of. 

Riddle would spend several minutes grinding himself forward in order to make sure that every drop of liquid had been drenched out of his quivering nuts before he would then breathe out a sigh of relief. After that he would slowly pull himself out from the broken entry that was the defeated youth's anus, the wet squelch of semen covered flesh would sound almost perversely delightful in the arcanines tapered ears. Following his tip being pulled out, Riddle would sit his massive prick along the boy's back, the bulky weight of which would drool out a few stray dribbles of seed onto the boy's skin, straining his skin with the proof of his having been made a bitch by the male he had thought to take control over. 

Whether or not the boy in question came from the pile driving he had received was of little concern to the arcanine, this wasn't about their pleasure after all. 

Once he was sure that his lesson had been made clear Riddle would force the youth to lick the shaft clean upon rolling the other over and then presenting him with the evidence of the mess which he had been responsible for. No one wanted a messy cock inside of their protective pouch at the end of the day, after all. The sight of the human dazedly doing as he silently commanded them to was always a treat for the arcanine, since by this time no boy could resist the quietly pulsing shaft which was presented to them.

After his breeding tool had been cleaned to perfection and then drawn back into his sheath, Riddle would pad himself away from the area in question without a sound being made; that most of the trainers he used would end up becoming quite the homosexual deviant after this encounter, most getting into an intimate relationship with their male pokemon in order to try and feel what had been done to them so long ago by the mind numbingly assertive cock that had broken their senses down into mush, was not something that the arcanine cared about, not even if he encountered the other years later. To him, he had made his point clear about who was the more powerful male between them, and even if he had to reestablish this truth inside of the others time and again, it wouldn't change the fact that in that moment he established that was, and always would be, above them in the unspoken hierarchy for which he had established. 

Now one would think that such stories about the arcanine would have become prevalent to the point that the elite four or the gym leaders of the local area Riddle was seen within would come out to handle the wild pokemon in order to put a stop to all of this, but no. No one came to do anything about Riddle. More often than not the heroic accommodations that Riddle had received, not to mention the bountiful meals thrown in celebration for all his hard work, would mull over the stories told by those battered and bruised trainers that had the ill-fortune to try and battle him. After all, no one would see anything wrong with the arcanine 'having a little fun' at their expense in exchange for all the good that he did. Besides, if said trainers had thought themselves able to take him on and then failed, well it was their fault, right? No one had forced them to go and challenge Riddle, heck, there were even warning signs posted around the areas where he sometimes slept that specifically told trainers of his presence within the area and to leave him be. So really.

With that in mind, it was a little after one such boy had the misfortune to try and take him on that proved why Riddle was so beloved within the community, as the sudden onslaught of an out of season blizzard had blanketed the entirety of the city for which Riddle had been traveling through, leaving everyone completely unprepared as blankets of snow fell across the once busy metropolis. 

Riddle didn't bother to think about the danger that such a change of temperature could possible put him in after Officer Jenny had asked him to help out several people who had been stranded in their cars following the world freezing over, the firedog simply let out a bark of compliance before licking her growlithe companion across the head before he barrelassed down the frozen street to help those in need. The biting temperatures worked to hold in place for about a second before he shook off the cold and the memories of a time long since lost. 

The sight of him breathing his fiery breath along the road to create a path for the cars to drive along were completely inelegant, however for those who had been fearful of freezing to death within their cars his actions were nothing short of a literal godsend. The news of Riddle acting as a living blowtorch to cleave the way forward for everyone was something that was loudly celebrated following his return to the police station, and yet before he could settle on the heated blanket that had been set out for him another call came in telling of a group being stranded out along the outer reaches of the city. Riddle was off before anyone could think to stop him. Over and over again the firedog went out to collect anyone and everyone he could trapped within the snow covered mess, those watching as the arcanine all but strutted his way into the back rescue center couldn't help but shake their heads as they noted the proud look which covered his handsome snow covered muzzle. 

No one thought to mention this as they watched the massive firedog make his way up to the staff on duty that evening and then lower his towering nine foot tall form down so that they could pull down several half frozen humans settled haphazardly along his bulky backside. 

The arcanine continued with finding all those he could and taking them where they needed to be, he even went so far as to aid those wild pokemon who had been trapped by the sudden weather, guiding them to old apartment buildings and broken down warehouses so that they could survive through the day, something for which they were quite grateful for by the show of berries and nuts that he was given in payment for a job well done. Over and over again, the arcanine went out with his tapered ears tucked safely to the side of his head in order not to be deafened by the howling winds brushing along his purple and black fur, nor the screaming cries up above his head. 

Riddle didn't know what was going on above him, as he could barely making anything out from the darkened grey sky above him obscuring his vision, not to mention the shower of snow and ice often blinding his golden eyes, however on the off chance the blizzard calmed down the firedog was left watching two very large silhouettes flying about the skyline. Watching as the pair crashed into one another time and again made it clear that there was some sort of fight occurring up above, however who was winning or losing was well beyond Riddle's comprehension. 

And in truth, he really didn't care about what was going on, nor why it had come to pass, he simply wanted it to stop so that he could rest, yet that want never came to be as the snowstorm raged on for hours on end, literally suffocating the world with a white veil of cold that was slowly working its way through his bones up into his core. The fire within, while thankfully kept alight by the generous offerings of those he happened to save, not to mention his steadfast willpower, was slowly dwindling down to naught as Riddle continued to go out to save those who needed him. 

Officer Jenny wanted to allow him a chance to rest, as it was clear that he was fatigued with all of the trips out, but the report of those in need kept coming in, thus he would always go out just one more time; him being told that rescue was on the way seemed like a far off promise by the fifth time the blue haired woman had spoken such words to him, however instead of complaining or huffily going to sit on his laurels to wait for this supposed 'rescue' the arcanine took himself a drink of water and chowed down on what food he was offered before zipping out into the bitter cold. 

The sight of Riddle braving the winter weather became something of a beacon of hope for those trapped within the city, as Officer Jenny let everyone who had a radio or cellular device know to be on the lookout for the giant firedog as he made his way towards their location. Riddle, ever the prideful creature that he was, found himself eating up the affectionate cheers being flung his way as he did all that he could to help a bus load of people make their way to a nearby auto garage so that they could wait out the nightmare that was their current reality. The soft strokes and firm hugs he received kept the fire within lit as much as they could, however the arcanine was still a mortal creature, and by the eleventh time he had gone out it was easy to see that he would not be able to keep up the strength he was summoning from whatever well that he had been drawing it from; the shakiness within his limbs, quivering of his breath, and exhaustion dancing within his eyes promised that, yet the firedog kept on. 

He had to, after all. Because it was his… 

Riddle shook the thought of the past away. 

By the time he returned to the police department there was no energy left within the arcanine, the proof of this being in how he didn't so much flop down once he made it back into the heated police department so much as he crashed into the ground like a led pipe being dropped from the top of a building. Riddle didn't even know that he had done so at the time, his mind was simply whirling with those of who he could help next as he drifted down into the dark pit for which had been at the bottom of the well he had been pulling from. The firedog only knew something had happened to him when he found himself being awoken by a small tongue running along the length of his no longer snowcaked muzzle. 

Tired golden eyes blinked open just in time to see Officer Jenny's growlithe pup whimpering and prodding at him with his tiny paw. Not knowing what was going on, Riddle lolled his tongue out at the smaller firedog as he had been trained to do by those who had once been his… 

Riddle growled, scaring the other slightly. 

Realizing his mistake, the larger firedog let out a short bark of apology before nuzzling his face into the pup's cheek. Hearing the other purr back at him got Riddle's tail beating along the heated blanket that he had been placed upon, however it was the smell of something warm and tasty very close to him that set his muzzle to drooling and lips pulling back into a pleased smile. His stomach, which had decided that now was the time to inform him of how empty it was, bayed him to look to the left. Upon turning his head to the side and seeing a large bowl of meat and other treats laid out for him, Riddle reached a paw out to bring the food over and then around to the front of his face. He gave the little one a single offer to grab what he wanted - to which the other didn't after telling the bigger male that he had already been fed - before he quickly set about gobbling down everything within that had been placed within the ceramic. The fire inside of his core burst into an inferno upon the foot touching his stomach, the aftereffects of which could be felt by how fast his insides heated upon.

The sight of Officer Jenny coming out from the door just beyond room that he had been set into barely registered within Riddle's mind as he continued to scarf down his offering, it was only once he had polished everything off that he turned to look at the blue haired woman, though this was after letting out an ignoble burp of relief at being so thoroughly stuffed. The news about the blizzard having slowed down was something that made his tapered ears twitch in curiosity, however because he couldn't exactly speak to the other on equal levels Riddle didn't bother to ask her any questions about the pair he had seen fighting up above the clouds; there was no sense working through the growlithe to try and have the conversation, as the complexity of the questions he had to ask would fly completely over the pup's head, rending much of the meaning behind his words worthless. Instead, Riddle simply listened to everything she had to tell him regarding the rescue team which had finally made it into the city before watching as the woman saluted him. 

The sight of the arcanine saluting back at her was something that barely phased the officer, given how often he had done so in the past, however it did make her question who exactly trained the proud canine in front of her.