Second of Booties

We just got 73 stones since yesterday. I feel like you guys are cheating on me with someone else. (＞﹏＜)

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She tilted her head, tail swishing softly behind her like a metronome. "What do you mean just, 'good enough'? What are they even special? Aren't they just a part of body?"

Oh boy, time to give this cute little monster a perverted history lesson.

"Booties, my dear," I said, leaning back and putting on my best professor voice, "are the holy grail of the human race. They're the round, juicy, perfectly shaped ass cheeks that have driven mankind to greatness since the dawn of time."

Her eyes widened, curiosity sparkling in them like freaking glitter. "Humans? What are humans?"

Shit, I forgot she didn't know about humans. Time to educate this girl.

"Humans, sweet cheeks, are bipedal creatures, much like us," I explained, gesturing to myself. "And they look a little something like this."

I closed my eyes, concentrated, and boom – transformed back into my default blonde-haired, handsome human boy form. Her gasp was freaking adorable, eyes wide as she flew around me, inspecting the new merchandise.

"Ohh, this is a human!" she exclaimed, poking me like I was some sort of exhibit. "It's so... different but similar to your other form. But I like your other form better," she pouted, crossing her arms.

Damn, she was cute when she pouted. But back to the history lesson.

"Humans are the ones who created you," I said, transforming back to my human-Mewtwo hybrid form with a sigh of relief. That was way too easy – something was off, but I filed that away for later. "They're the ones who discovered the power of booties, used them to become the apex predators of this world."

She tilted her head again, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What do you mean, 'power of booties'? How did booties make humans intelligent?"

And that's when I pulled out my genius move.

"In the distant past, humans were nothing more than hairy, smelly apes," I began, my voice taking on this epic storytelling vibe. "Roaming the wilderness, fighting over scraps of food. But one day, their god showed them the first pair of perfect booties. And boom – they saw the light."

Her gasp was like something out of a cheesy romance novel, eyes wide with wonder. "What happened then?"

"The power of booties was revealed to them," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dramatic tone. "They saw how these perfect, round globes could drive men wild with desire, make them forget their hunger, their thirst, even their fear. And with that power, they began to rise."

She listened intently, tail swishing softly behind her like she was hypnotized. "How did they rise?"

"With the power of booties, humans learned to communicate, to build, to create," I explained, ticking off the points on my fingers. "They became organized, intelligent, and the apex predators of this world. They subdued nature, conquered the wilderness, and became the masters of their own destiny."

She nodded, eyes shining with wonder. "That's amazing. But... what happened to this power? Do humans still use it? Is that how they made me?"

And here's where the story gets sad. And where my grand plan comes in.

"Sadly, the holy scriptures of booties were lost to time," I said, my voice heavy with fake regret. "The power of booties was forgotten, and with it, humans lost their way. They became complacent, weak, and forgot the true source of their strength. Now, nobody even remembers the ancient power of booties or the ancient history. No one but me!"

Her eyes filled with admiration, and I swear, I felt my ego inflate like a freaking balloon. "You do? Why?"

"Because I want to reclaim that power," I said, grinning as I gave her butt a smack. "I'm going to become the lord of booties, remind the world of the true power that lies in these perfect, round globes. And with your help, sweet cheeks, we can make it happen."

She jumped slightly at the smack, eyes widening in surprise. "Ow! What was that for?" she asked, rubbing her butt with a pout.

Damn, she was adorable when she pouted. 

"Just a little taste of what's to come, my dear," I said, giving her a wink. "Booties like yours deserve to be appreciated, to be worshipped. And I'm just the man for the job."

She tilted her head, eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of eagerness. "But how do we reclaim the power of booties? What do we need to do?"

I leaned back, adopting a serious tone. "First, we need to find the lost scriptures of booties. They hold the secrets of the ancient power, the knowledge that has been lost to time. With them, we can unlock the true potential of booties and bring humanity back to its former glory."

Internally, I was rolling my eyes at the absurdity of my own words, but she seemed to be buying it hook, line, and sinker.

She nodded eagerly, tail swishing softly behind her. "And how do we find these scriptures? Where are they hidden?"

I had no freaking clue, but I wasn't about to let that little detail stop me.

"We'll have to embark on a quest," I declared, filling my voice with determination. "A journey to find the most exquisite booties this world has to offer. We'll travel far and wide, seeking out the finest specimens and... appreciating them. Only then will the scriptures reveal themselves to us."

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and she clapped her hands together. "That sounds so exciting and fun! I want to come with you too!"

Just as planned.

"Well, I don't know," I said, scratching my head and feigning reluctance. "It's a dangerous journey, full of perils and... booties. Lots and lots of booties."

Her tail drooped slightly as she pouted. "But I want to come! I want to help you find the finest booties and appreciate them all!"

She was persistent, I'd give her that. And cute. But I needed to make her work for it, to prove her dedication.

"I mean, it's not that I don't want you to come," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "But it's a big responsibility. You have to be dedicated, you have to be... appreciative."

She thought for a moment, tail swishing softly behind her. Then, she looked up at me, determination in her eyes. "I can be dedicated! And I can appreciate booties! You can... you can play with my chest as much as you want. I know you like them because you were looking and touching them so intently earlier."

I felt a pang of something – guilt? – at her words. She was offering herself up so eagerly, and here I was, playing her like a fiddle. But I had to stay committed to the role.

"Well, that's a start," I said, nodding thoughtfully. "But it's not just about the chest. It's about the whole package. The booties, the curves, the... everything."

She bit her lip, eyes wide with determination. "I can do it! I can appreciate everything! You can even play with my... my booty if you want. I just want to come with you on this adventure!"

Damn, she was going all out. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

I wiped an imaginary tear from my eye. "Your dedication makes me tear up, my dear. It truly does. And I can see that you're serious about this. But..."

She looked at me, eyes wide with anticipation. "But what?"

I paused, drawing out the moment. "But we need to make sure you're ready. This is a big task, and I need to know you're up for the challenge."

Inside, I was grinning like an idiot.

"But you can't just join me like that," I said, putting on my best serious voice. "First, you need to learn how to appreciate booties properly. It's not just about clapping them; it's about understanding them, worshipping them, becoming one with them."

Her eyes sparkled with eagerness, tail swishing faster behind her like a fucking metronome on speed. "I'll do whatever it takes! Teach me, Darling. Teach me how to appreciate booties properly."

Fuck yeah, let's get this booty education started.

I nodded, feeling like the world's smarmiest professor. "Alright, partner. But first, we need to train your eye. You need to learn how to spot a good booty from a mile away."

"Let's start with the basics," I said, leaning back and getting all professorial. "A good booty is all about three key factors: curve, firmness, and motion. Let's break it down."

She listened intently, eyes wide with curiosity. "Curve, firmness, and motion? What do those mean?"

"Curve, my dear, is all about the shape," I explained, gesturing with my hands like I was sculpting the Mona Lisa of asses. "It's about the way the booty rounds out, the way it flows from the hips down to the thighs. A good curve is like a work of art, a masterpiece that makes you want to reach out and touch it, to trace its lines with your fingers."

She tilted her head, tail twitching thoughtfully. "So, it's about how it looks?"

"Exactly," I said, nodding. "But it's not just about looks. Firmness is just as important. A good booty should be firm, but not too hard. It should have a bit of give, a bit of bounce. It should feel like you're squeezing the softest, most perfect pillow in the world."

Her eyes widened with wonder, like I'd just revealed the secrets of the fucking universe. "But how do you know if it's firm enough? How do you test it?"

Oh, the things I could show her. But let's keep it semi-PG for now.

"You test it with your hands, my dear," I said, grinning. "You give it a gentle squeeze, you press your fingers into it, and you feel the resistance. A good booty should be firm enough to hold its shape, but soft enough to be comfortable to touch."

She nodded eagerly, tail flicking excitedly behind her. "I see. And what about motion? What does that mean?"

"Motion, my dear, is all about the sway," I explained, moving my hands in a slow, sensual rhythm like I was conducting a fucking symphony of booties. "It's about the way the booty moves when you walk, when you dance, when you... do other things. A good booty should have a natural sway, a rhythm that makes you want to follow it, to watch it, to be mesmerized by it."

She listened intently, eyes shining with excitement. "So, it's about how it moves?"

"Exactly," I said, nodding. "And let me tell you, a booty that moves like that is a sight to behold. It's like watching poetry in motion, a dance that speaks to the very soul of desire."

She thought for a moment, her tail curling around her leg. "But what about size? Does size matter?"

Ah, the age-old question. Time to set the record straight.

"Size, my dear, is not the most important factor," I said, putting on my serious voice. "It's the soul of the booty that matters the most. A booty can be small, it can be large, but if it has the right curve, the right firmness, and the right motion, it's a work of art. It's about the essence, the spirit, the... je ne sais quoi."

She tilted her head, eyes wide with confusion. "Je ne sais quoi? What does that mean?"

Fuck, I forgot she doesn't know French. Time to simplify.

"It means, my dear, that it's something you can't quite put your finger on, but you know it when you see it," I said, grinning. "It's that special something that makes a booty truly exceptional, truly worthy of worship."

She nodded eagerly, tail flicking excitedly behind her. "I understand. So, how do we start appreciating booties properly?"

"First, we need to observe," I said, gesturing to her. "We need to look at the booty, to study its curves, its firmness, its motion. And then, we need to touch, to feel, to appreciate with our hands."

Mewtwo then stood straight and looked into my eyes with a conviction I had never seen. "I think I am ready, Darling. Let's begin our mission~"

I held up a hand, a sly grin on my face. "Hold on a second. There's one more thing you need to know. Only those with good booties can join me on this mission."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dear," I said, leaning in and lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "that before we embark on this sacred quest, I need to inspect your booty. I need to make sure it's up to the task."

She blinked, taken aback. "Y-you want to inspect my booty?"

"Damn right I do," I said, nodding solemnly. "It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it. Now, turn around and let me see what we're working with."

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly turned around, présent her ass to me like a fucking gift from the gods. And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold.

"Alright, my dear," I said, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. "Let's see if you've got what it takes to be a true booty connoisseur."

Mewtwo felt a sudden shiver in her soul, as if something was going to devour her this instant.

*gulp*

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Get that stones up and start throwing them right here. (())

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