Legend of Krystal Forums

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 12:48 am**

Name: Mira
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Species: Sylveon (Shiny)
Appearance:
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"Alright, I'm ready for adventure!" A declaration met with the enthusiastic bark of support from my Yamper, Wattson, and an incredulous look from Professor Tupelo. At least I assumed it was incredulous, he was standing a little far away from the webcam I had set up on Wattson's collar, right above the small display I had attached to him that showed my face. It seemed this was a field trip I couldn't attend remotely - and my ingenuous idea of attaching my very own portable analysis device to Wattson wasn't good enough for the Professor. Genius is never appreciated in its time.

"What do you mean I have to go in person? But I have everything I need right here!" Computer equipment, my research notes, air conditioning, sex toys- okay maybe I don't need to list all those reasons out as to why I would rather stay in my room but... can't I at least spend the day in the lab instead? Alas, all my well reasoned arguments, backed with empirical evidence and statistical analysis, were for nought. Professor Tupelo, in that cheerful and encouraging way of his, insisted that I would never flourish into the brilliant scientist he knows I can be if I don't venture out into the unknown myself every once in a while. Science was about discovery, after all.

He convinced me to come to the lab myself so we could set off on the field trip. I wasn't trying to get out of it by not showing up. I legitimately just... took a great deal of time. I had to double check, triple check, quadruple check everything I was taking with me. I needed Repels, Potions... who knows what else? Maybe we'll find the fossilised remains of a giant Pokémon, but one piece is missing and without it we can't revive it. It could be any of the pieces from my fossil collection... best to bring all of them just in case. And what if I get thirsty? I should bring plenty of soda. Different flavours, in case we're there for so long that I get bored of the regular kind. Oh, and food... how many instant noodle pots would be enough? And I'll need to back plenty of sweets so that I can keep my blood sugar up so I don't crash. Oh, wait, do I need to pack spare underwear? Okay, I should be good to go, just need to get my boots on and... wait, maybe I should wear my other lab coat today. Yeah, and while I'm at it I should swap out my cherry sodas for-

Though the Professor's lab was barely ten minutes from my parents home (yes, I still live with them, the housing market is tough right now and its close to my work so... what of it?) I still took long enough getting ready that he had to send two of my co-workers to all but literally drag me out of my home. I barely got to take any of the things I had packed in the end, but they didn't listen to my pleading that I wasn't prepared enough.

Ugh, fine, well, I'm here now. Off to travel all the way off to these ruins by foot. The paths stopped existing well before we reached out destination, forcing us to march through thick, tall fields of grass under an increasingly dense canopy of trees that began to block out the sunlight above us. Eventually most of the natural light around us came from glowing mushrooms that marked the homes of the whimsical fairy Pokémon that scurried about, just close enough to the light to be marked as silhouettes darting from shadow to shadow. At least I still had my trusty Yamper by my side, though he was more of a mind to play with any Wild Pokémon that jumped us than try to fend them off.

Eventually we reached the ruins and... okay, fine, they were fascinating. Covered in ancient hieroglyphs that showed some resemblances to various different ancient cultures from around the world, but lacked enough similarities to be immediately translatable. The uncovered passageways were filled with fairy circles and lines of glowing mushrooms, adding to its mystique. If it wasn't so slimy and cold, I probably wouldn't mind being here all too much. Still, I don't see why I couldn't have examined it from my trusty Yamper-Cam!

The ruins proved to be more extensive than we first assumed, but also relatively safe. At least from the Professor's assessment. He divided the team up, giving everyone a task to carry out. Fortunately my task was to catalogue the inscriptions and hieroglyphs found in a section of the ruins we had already explored, so after we set up our equipment, I was left to my own devices in an area I was slightly more comfortable with than the alternatives. It was just myself and Wattson for the next hour or so, before I noticed some hieroglyphs offset from the others, right in front of a fairy circle that happened to appear in the ground. It was partially covered in moss, so I used my instruments to carefully scrape some of the moss off so I could get a clearer look, only for the symbol to light up. Before either Wattson or myself had a chance to react, the light intensified and a rush of energy passed over us. I started to feel myself growing dizzy as the light enveloped my vision. I knew I should have stayed in my room...

Perks:
Cute Charm - Courtesy of her new Pokémon form. When an opposing Pokémon hits Mira with a contact move, there is a chance they become infatuated with her.
Smart Cookie - She didn't become a Pokémon Professor's research assistant for her people skills. Definitely not for her people skills. She's very smart - useful for solving complex equations or logic puzzles, keeping track of a lot of information or recalling incredibly niche and interesting only to her trivia facts to share whenever anything slightly relevant pops up - the most useful skill.
Pokémon Scientist - Though she's well versed in many areas of academic study, her main speciality is Pokémon research. She can recall information with relative ease about the types, habits and abilities of many Pokémon.
Gamer Rage - She gets competitive easily and doesn't like losing. While most people wouldn't consider this a positive attribute in a person, this side of her has helped her overcome many obstacles in the past and may be even more useful going forward. When facing an enemy that has bested her before, her moves are twice as effective.

Flaws:
Lazy - Always preferring to carry out her research indoors, Mira isn't used to regular intense physical activity. Even in her new, fitter Pokémon form, she still tires quickly after exerting herself and will need to rest more often than most Pokémon.
Deviant Tastes - Lets just say the risk of winding up fucking Pokémon isn't a completely novel idea to Mira. She's well versed in the depths of fandom and internet culture alike and while she would never have entertained the idea of actually sleeping with a Pokémon before, she's enjoyed more than a few erotic stories that blurred the lines between monster and lover. The now more deviant situations she has found herself in tickle that same fascination, making it easier for her to get turned on in these bizarre yet erotic scenarios.
Filterless - As smart as she is, her social skills are thoroughly unhoned. She prefers not to talk to other people at all, outside her small trusted circle of friends and co-workers, but when silence isn't an option she may just say whatever is on her mind. Which is often weird or rude or both.

Moves:
Disarming Voice [Fairy/Special] - Letting out a charming cry, the user does emotional damage to the opposing Pokémon. This move always hits.
Helping Hand [Normal/Status] - The user assist's an ally by boosting the power of that ally's attack.
Charm [Fairy/Status] - The user gazes at the target rather charmingly. The target's Attack is sharply lowered.
Copycat Normal/Status - The user mimics the move used immediately before it. The move fails if no other move has been used yet.

Turn Ons: Sub/dom play, drunk/drugged sex, coerced/forced into sexual situations, hypnosis, bestiality, humiliation, pregnancy, rape, gangbang, occasional instaloss.
Turn Offs: Gore, vore, pedo, scat

Name: Wattson
Gender: Male
Species: Yamper

Perks:
Loyal - Wattson is fiercely loyal to Mira and has an easier time resisting mental effects that would force him to attack her.
Hyperactive - Wattson is full of energy. Its harder for enemies to inflict Sleep on him.
Great Nose - Wattson's acute sense of smell can pick up on and recognise scents with ease, making tracking people or finding objects or locations that he has smelt before easier.
Flaws:
Playful - Until proven otherwise, Wattson assumes all new people are friends and will attempt to treat them as such, often leaving him vulnerable to surprise attacks or being taken advantage of.
Short Attention Span - Wattson's focus is likely to drift if things are getting to complicated or boring. He may need additional incentive in order to stay focus if something complex needs to be explained to him.

Moves:
Tackle [Normal/Physical] - A physical attack in which the user charges and slams into its target with its whole body.

Tail Whip [Normal/Status] - The user wags its tail cutely, making opposing Pokémon less wary and lowering their Defense stats.
Nuzzle Electric/Physical - The user attacks by nuzzling its electrified cheek against the target. This also leaves the target with paralysis.

Bite Dark/Physical - The target is bitten with viciously sharp fangs. This may also make the target flinch.

It had all happened so fast. You were in the ruins one moment, trusty Yamper at your side, taking care of the Professor's dirty work as always. Then something changed. A sudden shift in the air. Light so bright you couldn't see anything. A buzzing that seemed to radiate to your very core. You heard Wattson's trademark bark... and then... nothing. It was hard to say if you were unconscious or not. People usually weren't cognizant of being unconscious. Normally, you go out like a light, and then the next moment you wake up. Yet you can still feel yourself. Feel like you're... drifting. Floating through an endless expanse of emptiness. A comfortable nothingness. You have no idea where it is you're going, or if you're going anywhere at all. There's almost a soothingness about that. Like you could just drift on forever, uninterrupted, and content. A brief flash of alarm echoes through that drowsy comfort: had you just died?! How could you die?! It was just some moss! Moss on a rock! You were too young to die—and perhaps too single—to die to some glorified lichen!

The panic seems to stir something in that endless void. You feel yourself falling and falling and falling faster. There's nothing in the darkness for your eyes to focus on, but in the distance, you can hear something. A noise of some kind. A Pokemon, maybe? The longer you listen to it, then more it starts to sound like a... voice. A person, calling out to something. To someone.

"C... on! Mi.. Yo... Ca... Mira!"

To you! And when you realize that there's still something out there, something tangible that recognizes you for you, all the dark comfort of non-existence seems to fade away in an instant. You stop moving, and suddenly your eyes snap wide open with a gasp. You aren't falling anymore. You're... lying, on something cold and hard. The light around you is dim, but blinding all the same compared to that sensation of 'void'. And as your eyes adjust to the new surroundings, they focus on the thing closest to you. A face that is both familiar and completely alien to look upon.

"Oh! Oh gosh! You're awake! Oh, oh wow! Wow, that's a relief! I thought you were, like, a goner, Mira! Wow!"

The voice is like that of an excitable college kid, but the mouth it comes out of, or rather, the muzzle it comes out of, looks like it would belong on a fuzzy little Yamper. If that fuzzy little Yamper had been drawn by one of your favorite artists on certain sub-boards of the forums you lurked when the workday was slow, and the Professor was out of the office. It only occurs to you that the young man, or mon in question isn't just some miscellaneous bit of perverted eye-candy made flesh until he suddenly lurches forward and drags his tongue along your cheek.

It's just like Wattson would do whenever you drowsed off...

Because it is Wattson!

"I was really, ah, worried, Mira! I woke up and you were laying there, and you looked really different, so I was scared, and I couldn't find you, but then, then I sniffed around, and you still smell just like you! So it must be you! But then you didn't get up and I got really worried!"

The talk of you looking different almost completely skips you over with how different he looks. You're more than used to getting smothered in kisses and Yamper fluff in the mornings, but along with his (admittedly kinda cute) new face, he's got the body to match! A much heavier body, which is currently squishing yours into the floor of whatever cave the two of you are in. Not that he seems to notice, so excited by your awakening as he is!

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 10:04 am**

This is why I don't leave the lab! I died! I've been killed by some mysterious booby trap and its all because I went outside! I hope it blew me up, I don't want them to find out about my Shuckle themed underwear when they find my body. Knowing my luck, that's probably the only thing that survived. Ahh! My search history! Its not been deleted! My room! Its full of all my toys and books and... oh no! I was supposed to burn that all in a fire before I died at the ripe old age of 97. My parents are going to find it all! Oh noooo.... this is so embarrassing! Ugh, kill me now, I can't... oh wait. Huh. Well, now I'm conflicted about this whole thing.

What? Don't be conflicted Mira, pull yourself together! You wouldn't need to worry about them finding all of that if you weren't dead! I should probably focus on something else... distract myself with... uhh... the existential dread of the afterlife being an endless void of nothingness which I shall fall through for all eternity? Doesn't seem much better than my parents going through my things... I suppose living a moral life wasn't all that big a deal after all... wait, is this hell? Was I a bad girl? No, I thought I was good! I mean, I wasn't a saint, but come on, that's not fair! I wasn't a bad person. Maybe its not too late. Okay, what can I repent for? Umm... incest porn. I mean, it was more step-family stuff, so does it really count? Its not like I support it actually happening. My dad is a step-dad, and I would never... oh god, but what if he thinks that I would when he sees my search history? I'm 99% sure I used incognito mode for that kind of stuff, but what if I forgot once or twice? Oh nooooo. Dammit, get your head in the game Mira, your eternal soul is on the line. Lets see... what else can I confess?

Huh? A voice... Arceus? Yes, I knew it! It was "My Step-Brother's Hypno Coin" that did me in, wasn't it? I promise I'll never watch that one again... maybe just once more, but only to say goodbye and that'll be it! I promise, from here on it I'm a changed woman. Strictly non incestuous porn from here on out!

Wait... I'm not dead? Fuck you Arceus, I'm going to squirt one out to freaky hypno incest hijinks as soon as I get home! Suck on my very alive clit! I... wait what the fuuuh...

I try to force my eyes to work properly by squeezing them shut and opening them repeatedly, but nothing gets the visage before me to disappear or make sense. That's an anthropomorphic Yamper... and... it can talk?

I stifled squeel rumbles from my throat as it runs its tongue across my cheek, before my mind catches up with the situation, slower than usual given my frazzled state. "W-Wattson?" I ask, stairing up at the mon above me curiously.

"Oh fuck! Wattson! Look at you! What happened to you? Did that bright light do this? We've got to go get the Professor immediately! This is, hnngg... uh..." I shuffle about a bit, pinned beneath Wattson's... admittedly quite attractive new body. I squirm a little more, but its no use, I'm simply not able to push him off of me or wiggle my way out from under him. "Um, Wattson, could you scoot. You're squishing me a bit here."

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 4:08 pm**

"Huh? Light? Oh! Right! The light! I almost forgot!"

It seems that despite, ostensibly, having many a humanoid trait, speech among them, Wattson's attention span hasn't improved in the slightest. Nor did his spatial awareness, given that he only seems to realize he's got you pinned against the cold stone below after you point that out to him. A fortunate enough thing, too, as it's only after he looks down that he seems to realize he's occupying any more space atop you than he usually does in the mornings. It's one thing to have a cute little Yamper sat on your chest as it tries to lick you awake for the day's drudgery. It's another thing entirely to have a grown man squishing your big, fuzzy tits beneath his equally fuzzy hands.

... Wait, fuzzy tits?

"Oh! Sorry! I just always do this, so, I figured it'd be okay, but, I can go over here, I guess."

Wattson slides off of you just as the realization seems to sink in: he isn't the only one with a very different body! A look down your now uncovered body reveals a very stark change from when you last remember checking yourself over. In place of skin that some might have called 'perfectly pale' and other, ruder people might have called 'pasty' is... well... fur! Snowy white and covering just about every part of you, except for where it reaches just below your elbows and knees, where it bleeds into a pleasant pastel blue color along your paws.

Paws?! You didn't have paws when you got up in the morning! You'd almost be forgiven for assuming someone pulled a prank on you and stuffed you into some kind of... Sylveon fursuit, given the coloration. But a little wiggling of toes and clenching of hands proves that them to be as real and tactile as your actual digits. Any exploratory pinches to your new 'coat' would indicate the very same. It isn't a suit, and it isn't coming off without something very sharp and very unpleasant. Not that the change is all that unpleasant. It's probably the only thing keeping you from shivering, given you're lying on what you increasingly realize is a cavern floor with nothing but your (newly fuzzy) birthday suit.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?! The light didn't hurt me, I don't think, but if it hurt you, I'll, I'll find it! And I'll kick its butt!"

Ever the hero, your little Yamper, if he can even be called little anymore, hops up triumphantly before you, displaying in full his new body. It's not entirely fair to call him tall, granted, and you reckon that if you also hurried onto shaky paws, you'd probably have a head of height on him or more. But what he lacks in height, he makes up for with enough lean, hard muscle that you can practically see it all flexing beneath his fluffy coat as he prepares to do battle with the evil light that assailed his mistress!

Heroic though his pose is, you can't help but find your eye drifting across his body to another piece of anatomy, if only sheerly out of curiosity, and not some sick desire to see what he's packing beneath his non-existent belt. Sure as the day is long, a surprisingly hefty pair of plush-looking nuts dangles between his thighs, and just above it the slightest hints of a tapered pink cock poking out of his sheath! It's not exactly a big ol' ankle spanker hanging down his thigh, but given his canine anatomy, the majority of it is probably hiding away inside, waiting for someone to coax it out and...

Your dirty mind is brought back to the situation as Wattson suddenly stumbles and drops back onto his butt with a cute little 'oof'. Perhaps embarrassed by his sudden shift in balance, the plucky anthro scurries into the sort of sitting position you might expect from his usual Yamper self.

"S-Sorry about that. I'm not used to these yet," He explains sheepishly, kicking out one of his humanoid legs and wiggling it for emphasis, "But I can kick, like, way harder now! So that light better watch out! 'Cause it'll hurt! A lot!"

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 4:55 pm**

Ohh... poop. Okay, okay, I can... make sense of this... probably. Maybe. The relief of Wattson's weight being lifted off of me quickly gave way to the overwhelming concern that came with seeing the state of my own body. I sit up as Wattson moves off and to the side, lifting my palms up before my eyes, turning them over, flexing my fingers. I cast my eyes further down, shifting my legs and twitching my toes. It all seemed so real. I... passed out, right? When examining the ruins... this could be a dream. Or maybe, and I'm not above admitting this, I passed out before even leaving the home from the stress of having to go on the field trip unprepared. My fellow research assistants might be calling up Professor Tupelo right now to let him know my state while I drool mindlessly on the sidewalk beside them. This was the scenario my mind invented just jumbling together a bunch of things from my subconscious with my worries about the day. I should write a book about this. I'm clearly very creative.

"Ow!" Okay, one pinch later at that confirms I'm not dreaming. "Ow, ow!" I wouldn't be a scientist without thoroughly checking my findings. "Okay, not a dream. This is really happening. I'm... furry now... at least its very pretty fur." I stroke one hand over my arm, initially soothing the spot I pinched, but later enjoying the feel and the colours. I looked like a Sylveon... just, admittedly much more human. Sylveon's don't normally go around with tits hanging out. Their loss. A shiny Sylveon no less. Ooh, fancy that, I'm a Shiny. "Whatever just happened, it transformed me into... this... and it transformed you... into..."

My voice trails off as I glance over to Wattson. He seems to be taking to these changes much more swiftly than I am, already bounding up onto his feet to declare his desire to protect me and fend off that dastardly light if it were to try anything again. I'm more than a little relieved, truthfully. Sure, I don't expect him to actually do anything to fix this situation, but the fact that Wattson was still with me, even in a scenario as bizarre as this, and being just as supportive as ever, it made me feel a lot less alone.

I suppose it isn't all bad. This is still a massive discovery, and a great opportunity. Who hasn't wanted to be able to speak to their Pokémon like this? Sure, they've always been intelligent enough to communicate their needs and desires and to form bonds not entirely dissimilar from how humans can, but to articulate full sentences, answer complex questions and - Okay, maybe in Wattson's case those questions shouldn't be too complex, but outside of exceedingly rare cases its typically been impossible to communicate on this level with a Pokémon. If we could figure out how this happened, who knows what we could find out that observation hasn't been able to tell us?

To think just this morning I was setting up my latest invention to attach to his collar, and now here he was, not just talking but standing with a very... very... fit body. Ooh... okay... yeah, he's... not too bad looking actually... and it seems like he's pretty.. er... well equipped if his ball sack is anything to go by. I don't mean to lick my lips, but I can't help it if some rather pleasant memories are suddenly springing to mind about one of my favourite toys... of the nice and thick and knotted variety. I... er... wow, this fur really makes you heat up fast, huh?

Wattson's clumsiness brings me back to reality, and brings a giggle from my lips. Clearly not quite used to his new legs yet. Speaking of getting used to new legs, I start to shakily rise to my own feet, pushing myself off the ground and onto my knees first, taking my time to get up properly. "That's okay, let's.... uh... do you see my clothes around here anywhere? Glasses... lab coat... Shuckle panties... anything?"

I cast my eyes about, but to no avail. It seems I'll have to stay in the nude for the time being. I click my tongue in irritation at this but resolve to folding one of my arms in front of my chest. Given the circumstances, my nudity is probably excusable, and the fur helps me feel a little less exposed than I otherwise would, but new body or not its still currently my body, so I wasn't too happy with it being so uncovered.

"Lets go find the Professor. He'll probably be able to sort this all out. Plus, this is a pretty big find, he'll want to know about this right away." I say, looking around to try and get my baring's. Did the light get rid of the equipment we had set up near here like it did my clothes. "Professor Tupelo!" I call out, before beckoning towards Wattson. "Come on, Wattson. Let's go see if we can find the others."

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 5:16 pm**

Ever the loyal companion, Wattson gives you all the time you need to collect yourself and push up onto your new legs. Of course, when you make mention of your clothing, his enthusiasm dulls somewhat, and his perky ears droop to the side in anticipation of the bad news he must deliver.

"I didn't see any of that stuff. Honest! I didn't even chew them up or anything! They just... aren't here anymore!"

Whether or not it's a comfort that Wattson did not, in fact, eat your underwear this time is debatable. Especially given your... preferences towards his new form. But you don't let that stop you from preparing to shove off, undies be damned, into the unknown, in the hopes of finding your employer and colleagues. How they would react to seeing you, you could only imagine. Hopefully, without too much in the way of sleazy commentary. The thought is almost mortifying enough to make one wish they had been discovered in their Shuckle-print panties. Whatever anxieties you have for what is to come, however, Wattson seems to lack all of them. He gives it a go at trying to trot next to you on all fours, but given the logistics of doing so with a very different spinal alignment, eventually, he settles for trying to balance on two feet.

Not that you cover a whole lot of ground in the interim. A cave is a cave is a cave, as far as someone more acquainted with their bedroom than the great outdoors is concerned, and the cavern you find yourself wandering doesn't seem to be all that different in this post-fuzz world. It's still dark, damp, and kinda musty, with the only light being from the mushrooms that creep and crawl from the occasional crevice in the rock, their bioluminescent helping guide you through the tunnel-like interior of the underground. Your voice carries through the chambers ahead, bouncing off walls until it returns to your ears as an echo. Surely, with the acoustics of this place, your co-workers would hear you and come running.

Except... they don't. Not for a long while, as you an Wattson continue to trek and trek until you come to realize that the exit to the cavern is not where you last left it.

"So! Uhm, I think we might be lost. 'Cause, I don't smell the others. And some of them are really, really smelly. So, maybe we go back the other way? Although I didn't really smell them over there either..."

You've never known Wattson's sniffer to be anything less than accurate on matters of tracking. If he can't catch even a whiff of your colleagues, or the professor, then maybe you ended up in a different part of the cave system after the flash. It's not totally out of the realm of possibility that your dream of falling was... well, actually a fall. A fall you miraculously survived despite its length, granted, but a fall all the same.

"Not that I don't smell anything at all, of course!" Ever the optimist, Wattson seems intent on cushioning the bad news with good, "There's definitely stuff down here! Like, Pokemon and stuff! Maybe we could look for them, and they can give us directions!"

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 5:32 pm**

I move slow through the passageways before us, in part to help Wattson take time to learn to walk a little more easily, but also because I find myself struggling to get my bearings down here. As we go on, it becomes increasingly more likely that whatever transformed us also transported us to an entirely different section of the ruins. Perhaps a level or two down if I did indeed fall. Which would leave us quite deep within and far away from the exit, unless there happened to be another way out from here somewhere. Unlikely given how recently these ruins were discovered. Maybe my clothes weren't erased and are still in the room where I first activated that strange symbol. Lab coat, glasses, Shuckle panties and all just lying around for someone to find and I'm forced to walk around naked until I found someone else. The worst of both worlds!

To make matters worse, I'm fairly sure I've passed this patch of moss three... maybe four times already. I don't know, they all look the same when its this dark. There's very little in the way of illumination down here. The glowing mushrooms help, but occasionally they grow sparse, leaving me mostly relying on the shadowy outlines of cave walls to - mostly successfully - walking around without faceplanting into rock.

Wattson's nose seems to confirm my fears. We seem to be nowhere near everyone else. "Yeah... some of them do smell bad..." I say, nodding in agreement as I cast my eyes to the side in thought. Maybe we should go back to the room we woke up in and see if there was a way to reverse the process their and transport us back to where we were? Or a whole we could try and climb through? Although, fortunately Wattson seems to actually bring up something that ordinarily wouldn't be as useful an option for me.

"Wattson! You genius!" I say, reaching out to ruffle the fur on his head. "Good boy! Yes! We can find some of the local Pokémon and you can help translate for me. That way we can get a pretty clear idea of the lay out of this place, and maybe even directions to the way out or the Professor."

I place my hands on my hips triumphantly for a few moments, before remembering to instead bundle my arms in front of my chest to cover my tits. Hugging my front, I gesture with my head for Wattson to take the lead. "Go on, Wattson. Follow your nose, take us to the nearest Pokémon you can smell!"

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 6:11 pm**

Your ruffling of Wattson's fuzz only causes his tail to start whipping about with reckless abandon, going so far as to thwack you in the hip a few times. It seems that, even with his more humanoid biology, some things never change. And with the power of praise fueling him, there doesn't seem to be anything Wattson isn't capable of. The Electric-type wastes no time thrusting his much-shortened snout out into the air, the cute little nose capping it twitching in darkness as he sniffles and huffs at the drafts wafting through the ruins to try and catch a specific scent amongst the musty smell of mushrooms and stale, subterranean air. It takes him a little bit, but eventually, his ears perk up and so does the lightning bolt above his shapely tush.

"I think I found something! C'mon!"

Ordinarily, when he found a scent, Wattson would take off like a Golbat out of the Distortion World, zooming down whatever route your research took you with reckless abandon. Such a habit was the very reason you came up with the Yamper-Cam, and definitely not because you didn't want to leave the house to do research. But stuck on two legs as he was, and mercifully unused to those legs, you manage to keep pace well enough with him despite your own lack of physical ability. How much longer that'll be the case given his lean, athletic build, you can't say, but at least you get to enjoy it while it lasts.

The trek brings you to what seems like a crevice in the rocks you had previously missed thanks to the darkness of the cave. With a little crackling from Wattson's mane, you have enough light to follow him through it, feeling a noticeable shift in temperature once you've squeezed your butt into the adjoining chamber. It feels almost muggy in the new chamber, and hot on Wattson's trail, you eventually trek into a portion of the ruins that seems to lead to honest-to-goodness light! Far up ahead, you can see what appears to be sunlight streaming in from above, lighting up a patch-up of lush-looking grass.

Grass which is not unoccupied.

"Look! Look, Mira, I told you I smelled someone! Hey! Hey guys, over here!"

Friendly as ever, Wattson goes bounding off towards the target of his well-tuned nose before you can quite make them out without your glasses. When you do make them out, you can't help but be a little aghast.

A duo of darkly colored Zigazoon rest comfortably up ahead. Their coloration, of course, isn't that much of a surprise: you had seen Galar's signature variant on the web, if not in person. Their presence in the ruin has... interesting implications for the local ecosystem. Or it would. If they weren't also anthropomorphized!

It's a little hard to notice at first, but it's made abundantly clear as they hurry to their feet at Wattson's approach, albeit in a low, hunched sort of way. Their bodies are a little thicker than Wattson's, but still rather muscular looking despite their stooped-over posture. At the very least, they've got what looks to be primitive loincloths over their sexes, though the absence of tits indicates to you that they're both males.

"Hi! What's your guy's names? I'm Wattson, and this, this is Mira! She's real nice! Anyway, we're a little lost, so we were hoping you could help us out and show us the way out! Or to our friends. Either works!"

It seems your companion's excited stream of yamping translates to being quite a motor mouth in human speak. Which would cute, in a way, if the two Zigzagoon didn't seem especially displeased with it. More so than displeased, they almost look a little... feral. There's a maliciousness in their eyes that Wattson seems to miss entirely, although you can't help but notice it, especially as they turn their attention to you at his beckoning. A wild glint seems to fill their gaze, and you swear you see at least one of their loincloths jump noticeably.

"Uh... Guys? Are you okay? Can you guys not talk? That'd be really weird, because I can definitely talk! Maybe it's because I have a trai-AAAAH!"

Without much warning, one of the Zigzagoon suddenly launches himself onto Wattson, locking a slobbering maw onto his neck fluff and crunching down hard. Wattson falls backward with the big lug atop him, carried onto the cavern floor by the sudden moment, yelping all the while.

"I-I don't think they're friendly! Ow! Get off me! Definitely not, ow! Friendly!"

The understatement of the century, as the first Zigzagoon's friend seems to loom towards you, his eyes devouring your body like it was a free meal, and his mouth following in that example as drool seemed to drip from his licked chops in thick rivets. Though, with how his loincloth seems to tent, you imagine he isn't looking to eat you in the same way he would a big bowl of Pokefeed.

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 6:39 pm**

Not a moment wasted by Wattson's nose, we're soon on the trail of our first lead. Well, Wattson's on the trail, and I'm on Wattson's trail. His high energy state is quite interesting to see in his more human form. He seems even more hyper than some of the most energetic people I know, and the translation of his usual happy Yamper antics to his new body gave him a very charming and affable dopiness. Fortunately I was able to keep up, though I had to pull one arm away from my chest in order to press my palm against the cave wall to keep myself steady and stop myself from making any unpleasant collisions. Sure enough, Wattson's nose discovers something my eyes had missed in my dark exploration of this section of cave and we find ourselves squeezing into a crevice I would have otherwise walked past without possibly ever noticing.

And already we're making great progress, with enough light making its way into this area that grass had begun to grow. Its no surprise that a patch like this would draw the attention of... two Galarian Zigzagoon? What were Galarian Zigzagoon doing here... and more importantly... why were they... well... like they were?

Perhaps it wasn't too surprising that more Pokémon within these ruins had been transformed like Wattson (and myself) had. However Galarian Zigzagoon wound up here was another matter. But most intriguing was that they seemed to at least partially cover themselves with loincloths. It wasn't much but it was at least some denotation of civilization. An attribute which was at significant odds with how they reacted to Wattson and myself.

I find myself cursing my lack of glasses. If I had been able to study their body language before approaching this close, perhaps I would have been able to warn Wattson not to go over to them. They don't seem keen on conversation, if at all capable, and if anything they seem hostile to our intrusion. Well, hostile to Wattson's intrusion at least. There seems to be something else in their eyes when they look at me. Something that makes me cover my chest with my arms all the more tightly and makes my fur stand on end.

"Wattson, be careful, I don't think they-" Before I can finish, they lunge into action. I feel my chest tighten as I see one of them bite around his neck, pouncing upon him and taking him to the floor.

"Wattson!" I cry out, rushing over to the aide of my Yamper, legs spurred by panic alone before I'm stopped in my tracks by the attention I've drawn from the other Zigzagoon, an immense feeling of dread rooting my feet to the floor.

"St-stay where you are!" I cry out to him, my legs tensing as much as they shook - a shaking that ran its way throughout my entire body. Despite my fear, I turn to look over towards the one pinning Watson to the ground. "Let him go! Wattson!"

The panic and dread made it hard for me to think clearly, my thoughts rattled and unorganised, cast aside by worry for my friend and my own well being. The snarling of the Zigzagoon, their strong bodies... the shifting and twitching beneath their loincloths as they look at me. The shadows must be playing tricks on me... there's no way they can be as large as the distortions on their loincloths would suggest.

I swallow, trying to steady my nerves as I affix my gaze on the one holding onto Wattson with his jaw. I feel my stomach tighten into knots, and with it a strange sensation bubbling up within me. A rush of adrenaline, my flight or fight instinct... and with it sensations that I haven't felt before as I open my mouth to yell at the Zigzagoon attacking my Yamper.

"I said let him go!"

My voice is... different. I meant to shout it, but it comes out more melodic and beautiful, and filled with an energy directed at both the Zigzagoon.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 7:29 pm**

The sight of the Zigzagoon mauling your poor Yamper seems to stir something within you. The sight of the second gearing up to do the same, or worse, to you only furthers that power along. By the time the one nearest you seems prepared to pounce on you and do whatever it is fomenting in that feral mind of his, it reaches its peak, and when you finally make your demand known to them, the sound seems at once to be much louder than it should have been, but also much more... soothing than it should have been. A distinctly pink hue seems to fill the air between you and the two ne'er-do-wells, and then, suddenly, they recoil backward. Little wisps of smoke rise off their jagged, shaggy pelts in the moments that follow, as if your very words had somehow singed them. Had you... had you just launched a move?!

Would that you had a Pokedex on hand to check which moves you had on hand, exactly, you might have just been able to figure out how to put these two in their place! Not that you were at all confident in your ability to replicate what had just happened. A terrible thing to acknowledge, given that the move, while enough to hurt the duo of rapscallions, only seemed to incense them more. The Zigzagoon nearest you snarls in its wroth, and the one atop poor Wattson, while yelping in return when your companion takes the opening provided and sinks his own teeth into its arm, dives back down atop him to continue its savaging.

You don't have all that long to worry about Wattson before the worry turns to pain, however. Closing the gap between the two of you with more speed than its thick frame would lead one to believe it had, the Zigzagoon slams into you shoulder first in what must be a classic Tackle. If the impact wasn't enough to send you sprawling, the Zigzagoon's lower center of gravity certainly proves to be enough to put you on your bottom. And from that vantage point, you're given an eye-to-eye look at just what awaits you beneath those most ragged of garments. The Zigzagoon's tackle was enough to dislodge the bulge forming in its impromptu underwear: a big, bright pink cock, not dissimilar in color to its dangling tongue stares right back at you.

Stocky as they are, it's no surprise that the heavy-looking prick is more impressive by way of girth than length, and yet still, it's a match for all but the heaviest duty of your many toys. And with how round and heavy the nuts dangling beneath it look, you can only imagine the kind of load the bestial anthro would produce given the right motivation.

Always the opportunist, the Zigzagoon seems to seize on your momentary daze, both from its attack and its nudity. He launches forward again, this time flopping atop you with its weight. While you're certainly taller than the duo of naughty scavengers, their bodies prove to be surprisingly dense. The sensation of its prickly coat assails your body as it clamors atop you, and though you might think to share the fate of your companion when it rears its ugly, slobbering maw toward you, instead of a pair of fangs digging into your pristine fur, you're instead met with the sensation of a big, fat tongue dragging up along your sternum. Clawed hands reach to pin your own down as he buries his face into your newly fluffed tits, suckling and slobbering all the while, that absurd cock of his pumping wildly against your leg as he struggles to wrestle you into submission and sate his hunger at the same time.

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 7:49 pm**

I'm stunned... and a little disorientated after yelling at them actually seemed to work. Did I just... use a Pokémon move? I stagger backwards, arms dropping to my sides as I gawk at my own handiwork, both Zigzagoon recoiling from my words. My words. I hurt them with my voice. This was like some kind of magical ability. Of course, I've seen and studied Pokémon moves countless times before, but to actually experience using one... it was something completely different. Amidst the fear and confusion I also felt a certain elation and triumph... and a familiar feeling of accomplishment that often accompanied my progress through the various games I enjoy playing when -

Of course, this was like a game. Well, it was all much more real, but it had the set up - mysterious ruins, bestowed with new power, two meagre enemies to test them out against. Sure, they were far from meagre looking from where I was standing, with muscle and fangs enough to be a very real threat. But I knew factually they were meagre, first form Pokémon and if I were a Sylveon now, then I was second form. Not just their superior in evolutionary status, but I had a type advantage over them. This was my tutorial level. All I needed to do was figure out how to use more of my moves on command and then I'll be able to thrash these trash mobs, save Wattson and claim the treasure ahead. Or whatever else I'll find, a way out would do nicely if there's no treasure. This was going to be a piece of-

Fuck.

I spent too long wrapping my head around what was happening and didn't have enough time to try and use another move before one of the Zigzagoon came barrelling into me. Wattson was once again caught up in a struggle on the ground with the other, so I was left on my own for now as its tough, stocky form toppled me over. I glance up, which proves to be a mistake as I'm met with a face full of fat Zigzagoon cock. Oh... fuck... It was planning to use that on me? It might rip me open! It took time and a lot of lube to use toys half as thick... How could this thing be the tutorial fight for my new abilities, if its cock was the final boss fight for my pussy?

The swaying cock before me distracts me long enough for the Zigzagoon to take advantage, not that it waited long at all to lunge upon me. I try to struggle but I'm quickly pushed from being on my ass to on my back.

"Hnngh, get off of me!" I yell, but there's no power in my voice, only desperation. I try again, drawing from the energy within me, but all that escapes my throat is a wheeze as the sudden weight of the Zigzagoon pressing down on me winds me.

My feet kick at the dirt and clutch my eyes shut as I prepare to feel its teeth bite into me just like the other one bit Wattson. However I was met with a very different sensation instead. My eyes shoot wide open as I gasp out from the sensation of its tongue running across my tits. "Wh-whAHat are you do-AH-ing?" I cry out, my chest shifting from side to side under my assailant's unexpected treatment. I've nothing else to do but struggle and thrash to desperately see if I can push it off of me, slip free or trigger some other move that could get me out of this situation.

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 8:17 pm**

Your cries seem to fall on deaf ears. Either that or, more worryingly, your cries seem to embolden the Zigzagoon atop you as he works himself into a frenzy savoring your tits. The fat, slick tongue, diligent as it is, manages to cause your girls to perk up nice and pretty, and the beast takes advantage of that by practically sucking one of your teats into his mouth. The angry pink cock between its legs throbs noticeably against your hip as you kick and squirm under him, and after it slips off you for the third or fourth time, it seems enough to snap the Zigzagoon out of his tits worshiping long enough for him to snap at you with his ugly mug.

"Grrrhghh! Zoon! Zag!"

So much for the hope of common communication. Even without the benefit of translation, however, the frothing snarl gets the point across well enough: he doesn't like it when you fight back. And given the way he very purposefully lurches forward to lock his jaws around your delicate little throat, it seems he intends to get his compliance one way or another. The pressure of his pointy little teeth against you must be his way of ensuring that.

And given the situation... you're pretty sure you know what comes next. Once they bite the scruff, that's the end in all those dirty little fanfics about what Eevee get up to when their trainers aren't around. Unlike those Eevee in the stories, however, the sensations you're experiencing are very, very real. The weight of a strong male atop you. Feeling him force his hips between your kicking legs. The heat of his sex coming to rest against your groin. Your Shuckle underwear aren't around to guard you from the fat cock flopped between your thighs. There's nothing between it and your sex but pre-cum and some downy-soft fur as he begins to pump his hips back and forth, back and forth, sawing his member against you.

And whether out of the instincts inherent to your new body, or a deep-seated curiosity born from one too many deviant schlicking sessions, you can't help but find your hips rising to meet him. You can feel the heat rising. Your own slickness joins his pre as he humps against you. He can feel it too, evidently, by the deep, pleased growl he makes atop you.

"I-ow! Stop that! I smell something... something weird, Mira! Are you okay over there? I-willyoustopbiting! Owch!"

What's more embarrassing, is it seems even in the heat of battle, your dear companion can smell how into it your body seems to be. And soon enough, you suspect, he'll hear it too. How could it be helped?! When was the last time you had real cock?! And a gangly neighbor boy certainly wasn't packing the size or ferocity of the creature assaulting you now. The Zigzagoon on top of you rolls his hips back once, then twice, snarling each time he misses threading your needle with what might as well be a bungee cord. Whether it's by luck or determination, though, he manages to line his bulbous head up with your cunny on the third go. And with effort, he ruts and ruts against you, spreading you a little more with each pump of his hips until finally, with a triumphant snarl muffled only by your neck, he sinks it home in one and fills you with more cock than you know what to do with.

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 8:44 pm**

Despite the added fuzz, my tits seem just as sensitive as ever and the more he sucks and licks at them, the more my nipples poke out, making themselves easy targets for his attention. All my struggling seems to accomplish is thrust my chest even more against his mouth as the grunts and whimpers of exertion from trying to push against his weight become more and more tinged with notes of pleasure and pleading as my body clearly seems to enjoy the attention. My thrashing about, however ineffectual, clearly isn't appreciated by the Pokémon above me. He silences my grunts of protest with a snarl, leaving me to only whimper as he punctuates his point with his teeth around my neck.

The message is understood clearly and I go still, my body only moving from my heavy breathing and the involuntary reactions from the feeling of him grinding against me. My eyes water, but much to my shame they aren't nearly as wet as the space between my legs. Its been a long time since I've had a proper fuck... and as much as I hate to admit it, but this Zigzagoon was already making my body feel better than any man I'd been with before and he hadn't even stuck his massive cock in me yet.

I felt my cheeks flush beneath my fur, my breathing quicken, my legs start to tremble with a different feeling entirely. I couldn't help it. I didn't want it. But this was a beast that had wanted me, hunted me, pinned me down all to claim me and now it was going to do just that. And my body new I liked that, even if I didn't want to like it right now. To make matters worse, even Wattson could smell it on me. My need.

"It's nothing Wattson." I croak out, careful not to adjitate the Zigzagoon with its teeth on my neck as I spoke. "Just... be a good boy. I don't want you to get hurt. Just be a good boy... wait for them to finish playing with me... and they'll let us go. Okay?"

I had no idea if they would let us go or not, but its the only way I could see us getting out of this right now. And if I didn't say anything then Wattson would keep fighting the entire time to try and protect me and that could get him seriously hurt, or worse.

I gasp as I feel the Zigzagoon's thrusts get more focused, pushing against my entrance with greater force and accuracy. My legs twitch and part open slightly, all on their own. My fingers dig into the dirt beneath me as I feel it happen again. Once he has me lined up, I feel my entrance getting bounced against his tip, over and over as he batters his way into a proper angle to push into me, stretching my tight hole in preparation for his entrance. And then...

I cry out, my eyes shooting wide and rolling back in my head. My tongue laps at empty air for a few moment as I feel my body overwhelmed by the sensation of being split open by his penetration. Before I have a chance to even draw a full breath again I let out another large moan which turns into a cry. Too big, too big, too big... he was too big... and yet I was taking him in me... and despite everything... he felt too good!

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 9:09 pm**

With the resistance your tight hole offered finally giving in, there's nothing to stop the Zigzagoon from dropping his full weight onto you. Your cry, both of despair and pleasure, seems to echo all through the cavern as he takes you, bouncing off the walls until it reaches wherever the sunlight above beamed in through. And the needy moan to follow, the way he seems to grunt in long-awaited satisfaction, even the wet, sticky suction of his cock sliding a few inches back before he brought it home again for the first of many thrusts follow in that example. It's like a cacophony of shameful pleasure, as the Zigzagoon, triumphant in his victory and assured you'll offer little resistance, presses himself up off of you just enough to settle himself onto his haunches and begin the process of rutting his hips into you. He's so... fucking... big! But that doesn't seem like it's going to stop him. You can see it in his feral eyes. His fuck-drunk features. He doesn't seem to even consider the notion of your pleasure. You're a female, he's a male, and you've proven receptive to his primal need to fuck. To breed. All that matters is following that instinct to its logical conclusion.

That much shows in how he treats you. His hips piston forward, easier at first as he figures out just how much dick you can physically handle at once, but harder once he's sure nothing important is gonna break in the attempt. Your new body, for all its faults (like being so fucking sensitive you almost came the moment he stretched you out) seems to at least be better suited for this kind of rough treatment than your old one. You supposed it would have to be if all anthro males were so... fucking... big! The sound of squelching puss and heavy balls clapping your ass join the symphony of shame as he takes his pleasure from you without remorse or regret, eyes hungrily devouring your body as it bounces up and down, up and down with the impact of each of his thrusts. His arms grasp at your thighs, keeping them locked around his hips as he makes you his own.

But, of course, you aren't the only two involved in this affair. Your order to Wattson to stand down must have had some effect. The struggling you heard from the other side of the cavern settles down quickly, and from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a second figure approaching. It's the second Zigzagoon, mercifully, coaxed over by the sounds (and smell) of his companion indulging. And fuck if he doesn't look turned on by it: his loincloth can't even hide the fat weasel dick that stands proud between his legs. A whimper from a little further off, barely audible over your gasping and moaning, manages to break through the sensual assault.

"A-Are you okay? Are they hurting you? Y-You sound upset."

The worry in Wattson's voice is palpable, and were it not currently pounding out of your chest with every toe-curling thrust from the monstrous anthro between your legs, it might have broken right then and there. It's hard to even formulate a response, given how thoroughly the Zigzagoon is wrecking you down below, but if there was anything to say, it would have to come quickly. The second Zigzagoon, seeing the primary hole occupied, seems to wander up toward your head, pulling aside his loincloth and dropping down onto his knees so that his big, musky cock hangs precariously close to your face, blocking out the sunlight with its shadow.

And with that, you get the idea you won't have full use of your mouth in a few moments.

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 9:39 pm**

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck fffffuuuuck. He's destroying my pussy! My hands claw out to my sides as I do my best to lift my head up, only to be met by the sight of his cock bulging its shape out of me as he thrust in deep, before shifting my legs to the sides of his hips as he shifted position. My hips rise up to met his, letting him fuck me at a slight angle as my head hangs back, feeling him battering against every corner of my insides. My tutorial fight! I'm getting fucked by my tutorial fight like a damn noob and now I've wound up like the heroine of one of one of the more extreme stories I used to read. A fuck toy to some smug evil bastard. And just like in those stories, my body fucking loves it. I used to think it was a bit silly, even if I enjoyed it, that the women in those stories enjoyed sex with these monsters and villains so much that they couldn't resist them, yet here I am, feeling my willpower getting carved out of me with each thrust of his HUGE FUCKING COCK!

And just like in a lot of those stories, I even had my own cuck hero watching on while I get ravished and claimed by our adversary. I'm sorry Wattson. Just please continue to be a good boy for me... please... I need you to stay safe. I'm doing this for you. I love you. I love you. I love cock. I love cock. I love fat Zigzagoon cock. I love- ah dammit, fuck off, I want these things to fuck off, fuck off, fuck me, fuck me, fuck... dammit!

There was no point begging him to be gentle, even if the Zigzagoon could understand me he clearly only saw me as a toy for his pleasure. My soft breaths grew ragged with how heavy they were, especially at the rate at which he pounded them out of me. My hips quaked, getting slammed into over and over again making them shake with pleasure. It was enough to overwhelm me, but that didn't mean I couldn't be overwhelmed even more.

The second Zigzagoon started to make its way over and I soon saw its big throbbing cock consuming my view. Fuck. Two of these things. And this was the one that hurt Wattson. And now it was going to get rewarded for it, by me. My mouth and throat. Whether I wanted to or not. And with the heavy musk from its cock wafting over my face and making my nose twitch, a part of me wanted to. To treat him for proving himself the better of my loyal Yamper. To reward him for being such a dominant alpha male.

My eyes held a steady focus on the cock looming close to my mouth, in stark contrast to the constant bouncing back and forth of my tits from the thrusts of the Zigzagoon already claiming me. My tongue watered enough for it to trickle around my lips. I heard Wattson's concern and I wanted so desperately to respond, to reassure him, but it was hard to get anything out other than moans and cries right now. But with the second cock drawing near I knew I had but seconds to try and force a response out to calm him.

"It's okay, Wattson. Just keep being a good boy! I'm going to be okay! It's all going to be GLRP Mmph! Mmmhm~ glk glk glk glk..."

Posted: **Thu Aug 01, 2024 10:06 pm**

You barely have time to get the words out before the Zigzagoon shuts you up once and for all with a quick thrust of his hips. Caught mid-sentence as you are, you don't even have the chance to close your mouth and resist him as he pumps his hips hard enough to pack your mouth and into the entrance of your throat in one go. Not that you would want to stop them, of course. The raw, masculine, primal stench of the second Zigzagoon's heavy nuts, resting right on your snout thanks to his angle of attack, make that very evident. He's a big big, strong, dominant male, just like his friend, carving your pussy out just out of sight. They beat you and your Yamper fair and square, and now they deserved to take whatever the fuck it was they wanted. And they wanted you. They wanted you so fucking badly they were absolutely ruining you. If it weren't for the hefty cock in your mouth, every messy, spittle-filled 'glk' that follows the one up front thrusting would doubtlessly be a wanton moan at that point, if they were generous enough to let you breathe between bottoming outs. Your body knew its place, submitting to these powerful males. You just needed to let go and let them finish.

And that's just what you do. There isn't even a choice in the matter. You could fight as hard as you could and they'd still take you. So that's exactly what they do. The Zigzagoon in your pussy only seems to kick up the pace in response to his friend claiming you in front of him. You can't help but wonder if it's a rivalry thing. You hope it is. Two strong males competing over you. Who could fuck the best. Who could make you squeal the hardest. Which one deserved to empty their big, fat nuts you into and make you their little breeding sow. It doesn't even matter that the second one is fucking your throat instead of your pussy. You're made intimately aware of how potent he is every time his nuts rub up against your face, that sweaty, musky scent filling your every breath. You're sure he could knock you up in a single go if he wanted. Oh, Arceus, does he want to. They both do. You hope you're ready for a litter of Eevee. Maybe Wattson could help take care of them.

Between their tempo, their scent, the situation... you can't help it. Your orgasm hits you like thunder, white-hot lightning going up your spine and frying your nerves as you cum and cum and cum on that big Zigzagoon dick. You thrash something severe as it happens, but the duo of burly monsters making you their personal cocksleeve only snarl and cackle as you do, enjoying the way you squeeze and milk them. You hear Wattson whimper again. Those defeated little sounds only seem to make it hotter.

They keep going for a time, although for how long it's hard to tell. It's not like they were ever gonna stop just because their cumdump finished, after all. It only ends when the alpha males decide it does. And so they keep going, keep fucking you, occasionally shifting to be more comfortable while they soothe their lusts. Maybe you cum again and maybe you don't. All that matters is that you do your duty.

Eventually, you do just that. The one with his fat cock buried between your legs seems to hit his peak first, as expected. He was the one to claim you first, so he gets first dibs. You can feel him swell, feel his thrusting grow more erratic. Then, he all but yowls, burying himself all the way to the root inside you and throbbing so hard he nearly picks you up off the cave floor. The first shot is big, the second bigger, and soon he's overflowing you with his backed-up nut. The way you squeal and squirm seems to push the second one over the edge. Those heavy nuts you've become so accustomed to practically jump across your nose as he sheaths himself in your mouth and joins his buddy in a well-deserved release, pumping his seed right down your throat and into your belly. He's nice enough to pull out towards the end, shooting a wad across your tongue so you can taste him and another across your face before he's done.

With a shift of his strong hips, the pressure in your cunt finally releases at once as the first Zigzagoon pulls himself free with a lewd 'pop'. What seed you can't hold of his leaks heavily onto the stone below, your folds too weary to try and keep it all in. The light of the sun above finally reaches you again as the second backs up in time with the first, flopping back onto his ass with a devilish cackle. It seems the two are pleased with their handiwork. Who wouldn't be?

Posted: **Fri Aug 02, 2024 4:10 pm**

What was with how these guys smelt? Something about it just made my body take over. Such a deep and strong musk, made all the harder to resist with the Zigzagoon's big, full balls smacking right against my nose and smothering me with his scent. Each thrust that filled my mouth up with cock just smacked another layer after layer of pheromones over me, like a blanket covering my mind that put all my worries and objections to resist - until all defiance had been utterly drowned out and replaced by a natural instinct to be bred.

My gargled moans and gasps take on a more primal tone. Whenever his fat cock wasn't stuffing my throat fully enough to muffle all noise altogether - other than the messy gagging that came from my rather inexperienced mouth coping with such a bulky intruder - needing whining and whimpering could be heard, along with cries that sounded much more like a Pokémon in heat than a human. Even when indulging in my more depraved fantasies, I never sounded quite like this before. I didn't care to sound like anything other than a needy breeding bitch. Anything to keep these cocks pumping into me.

They weren't even trying to make me cum, just mercilessly railing into me like some cheap sex toy. That's why it made it all the more shameful that I did cum. Well before they did, and more than once. My body clenched around their cocks each time, squeezing them in gratitude for how they plundered my body. Showed me just what I should expect from being a woman in their presence. My volume control is lost entirely. All I can do is ride out the tide of pleasure that threatens to break apart my body from both ends. My moans, how I move, how much I can catch my breath - all of these are left entirely to the mercy of the two Pokémon claiming me and the tempo of their thrusts.

I was never what anyone would call 'ladylike'. Although I always had a tall, slenderness about myself that you might consider delicate. Though now I was a mess. A piece of meat turned into a fuck toy by two men I was too weak to resist. They ploughed me over and over from both ends with their thick Zigzagoon cocks, playing me like some crude and lewd instrument that cried out or gargled in my voice, somehow in a strange way still melodic even in this state, whenever they thrust into me or made me shake in the right way.

I don't know how much time passes like this. My view is almost entirely compassed by the swaying sack that keeps slapping itself firmly against my nose as my throat is used as a cocksleeve. All sense of time is disolved within the constant bombardment of sensation that keeps my body ever getting close to regaining an ounce of composure. My eyes are dopey and dazed as my mind relents, all thoughts... slipping away... to nothing... just... cock... and balls... slapping... into me... on both sides... over... and over... and over... and...

...

By the time they finish, I'm utterly worn out from their abuse of my body. Reduced to just a throat and a cunt, all the rest of me is just there to twitch and look good lying between them as they reach their climax. My eyes shoot wide open as I feel it start to happen. A deep thrust that leads into a spreading warmth within me. And it just keeps coming, pump after pump, filling me up to the point of overflowing. I didn't think that was physically possible. I squeal out around the cock in my mouth, my hips thrashing against the Zigzagoon currently pumping my womb full of his seed, the sensation kicking me over the edge into one last orgasm before it was over. It seems to do the same for the other Zigzagoon who soon starts to fill up my throat. My squeal is immediately muffled by a hose of cum. I gulp down dutifully and hungrily, drinking deep even as he starts to pull back. The salty taste covers my tongue before I can desperately gasp for my first full breath of air since this started as he pulls out and marks my face with the end of his load.

The other withdraws from me as well, my thighs shaking as I feel the overflow from within me spill out onto the ground between me legs. My hips and legs collapse onto the ground, exhausted as I take in several deep and ragged breaths as they leave me in the dirt, used and exhausted. The world seems to spin around me as I lie there, cum on my face, in my mouth and still spilling out of my well stretched cunt. I don't have the energy to do anything but pass out.

Posted: **Fri Aug 02, 2024 7:00 pm**

Left to do little more than gurgle and coo as the world seems to slip away from you, you find your awareness of your surroundings quickly fading. You're vaguely aware that, at some point, something grabs you by one of your ankles and starts to drag you away from the cum-soaked stone that you were so thoroughly defiled atop. There's a voice that calls out, and following that, someone protesting. Maybe Wattson. Poor Wattson. Not that you could do much to soothe him in your state. Through bleary, unfocused eyes you can make out the light above you beginning to fade as you're moved away from it. Then, just as the light seems to disappear entirely, and just before you find yourself slipping totally away from reality, there's a sudden shift—a blur of blue, a harsh cracking sound, and then... nothing.

It might have been poetic to say you once more found yourself adrift in darkness. But, unlike your arrival to that strange cavern, the dark doesn't last very long at all. When your awareness returns to you, the first thing you notice is you're very... warm. And comfortable. Like you were wrapped up in a big blanket or something. And when you finally gather the strength to open your eyes, half expecting them to be sealed shut with cum, you are staring up not at the roof of a cave, but at what looks to be a dwelling. A hut? The primitive, thatched roof certainly doesn't look like the hideous popcorn ceilings of the Professor's lab, that's for sure. And though there's still a very distinct soreness between your thighs, you manage to push yourself up onto your elbows to better survey your surroundings.

"Y-You're up! I knew you'd be up! I told them!"

And no sooner than you do, you're met by Wattson's worried visage. The little Yamper nearly jumps across the room to be at your side, though he seems to remember himself just before launching up onto the bed that you so comfortably rest on. A little scan of where he came from confirms your suspicion regarding your location: you seem to be in some kind of a shack. A shanty? A hovel. Some sort of rather rustic dwelling, with little more than a fire pit, some decorative curtains over its basic windows, a log that you imagine served as a seat for Wattson, and a makeshift table nearby, with several bowls that smelled strongly of spices and herbs atop it.

"Are you alright? You said they weren't going to hurt you, but then you fainted, and then you said they were going to leave us alone, but then they grabbed you and——"

"——And perhaps she needs a moment to collect herself, sweetie."

Another voice interjects as the curtains covering the door to the hut part. Ducking low enough to squeeze through the entrance, a rather impressive specimen enters: a Nidoqueen! And... well, one that seems to follow the trend of the Pokemon in this ruin. Near this ruin? Whatever. Not only does she seem far more humanoid than a proper Nidoqueen, but she's fucking stacked! Stacked enough that she nearly seems to pop out of the makeshift halter-top that keeps her huge tits covered with all the modesty that can be expected. The loincloth she wears around her absurdly wide waist seems to have an easier job, but you can only imagine the fabric needed to circle those hips. Statuesque though she was, there's a gentleness to her gaze, especially when it settles on you, and she approaches the side of the bed opposite Wattson before speaking to you, her voice soft and soothing.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart? You were in quite the state when they brought you in."

The Matronly Nidoqueen

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Posted: **Fri Aug 02, 2024 7:32 pm**

Everything aches. Some things more than others. My throat and pelvis most of all, but being thrashed around on rocky ground by two insatiable male Zigzagoon with their cocks lodged deep within me was going to leave bruises in a few other places too. And now I could feel it all more clearly without mind shattering pleasure distracting me. Though I could also feel... comfort. I was... lying in a bed? Had someone found me? Where...

I manage to force my eyes open, though the lids lifted with a slow grogginess. "Ugh. Bad End." I groaned quietly, my voice croaky, my throat dry and sore. "No fair. They cheated." I start to shift myself upright, only really managing a small amount of elevation with how tired my limbs felt. My waking caught some familiar attention, and before I can look around to get a sense for where I am, Wattson bounds over to come greet me. He seems to be okay. Thankfully.

I give him a weak smile. "Hey Wattson. Did the Professor find..." I let the question fade unfinished, as it didn't take long for me to realise where ever we were, it definitely wasn't somewhere the Professor would have taken us. It looked... I think rustic would be the polite word? Primitive, almost tribal. Maybe not even almost. I didn't know of anywhere nearby that would have shacks like this. It was cosy, I supposed, but certainly lacking in any of the sort of amenities I would expect if Wattson and I were going to be taken care of properly after our ordeal, let alone our transformation.

Wattson doesn't offer me much time to ponder the details of where we are before he's firing off with more questions. It probably means he's mostly alright, but I just don't have the energy right now to keep up with him. Fortunately, it seems someone else is around that notices just that. Someone who... Oh... well... I guess it's that kind of day.

She's also a Pokémon, just more humanlike the same as those Zigzagoon... and now Wattson and myself. Though unlike those Zigzagoon she seems able to talk. Maybe that means... she's like me... she was transformed by those ruins... Though I thought the Professor's team were the only people to explore them since their discovery. Maybe there were others nearby that other explorers had stumbled across. As she comes through the door and I'm able to see more of her, I can clearly identify her as a Nidoqueen. She's dressed in a slightly more encompassing manner than the Zigzagoons from the cave, but still in a very primitive fashion. Though it certainly compliments her assets... very well... Ooh... damn! Hello Mommy! I mean... well, fuck, she's hot, there's no two ways around it. And massive Mommy energy.

"I..." I clear my throat and then swallow before speaking again. "A bit sore. And tired... and thirsty. What... uh... town are we in? Or near? Did you get lost in those ruins same as we did? Is Professor Tupelo near here? I need to get to him as soon as possible. He'll probably be able to sort all of this out right away."

Posted: **Fri Aug 02, 2024 7:54 pm**

The Nidoqueen listens to your words intently, though you can see her brows knit sympathetically as you blitz her with questions about the Professor and 'sorting things out'. Reaching over to the table beside you, a process which nearly knocks you in the head with her, well, knockers, she grabs what looks to be a pitcher from the collection of vessels, as well as a clay bowl. With a surprising amount of dexterity for a Nidoqueen, she pours you the equivalent of a cup of water and hands it over to you before answering anything further.

"One thing at a time, hmm? It's not good to worry too much in your condition."

Once she's done away with the pitcher, she collects the log from nearby and sets it down beside you such that she can sit by your bedside. And once she's seen that you've wet your throat, she explains herself.

"You're in Burrowton, sweetie. One of the Rescue Teams came across you and your friend being... attacked... and took care of the ferals. Then, they brought you back to town to get all patched up."

Patched up is a... generous term, given what happened to you, but it's clear the Nidoqueen was trying to be tactful. It's a little embarrassing to think, given her matronly energy, but you're pretty sure you aren't packed to the ovaries with Zigzagoon cum anymore. That must mean she cleaned you up while you were unconscious.

"I can't say I've ever heard of a Professor Tulepo. Was he with you in the caverns? I don't need to tell you how dangerous delving is, sweetie: lots of 'mon get hurt or worse down there."

You almost feel like you're getting scolded by your mom, with the tone she puts on. Her answers don't exactly put an end to your questions, but they at least provide more context to the situation. Wherever you are now, it's clear the folks in this 'Burrowton' are a lot more familiar with those ruins than the professor's office.

"But, that's something for the Rescue Teams to worry about. All that matters is you're safe, now," It's a credit to her nurturing tendencies, how quickly she manages to swap between scolding and comforting, a big, heavy paw coming to squeeze your hand with all the tenderness of a mother, "Henry won't let anyone touch a hair on your pretty little head while you're here."

You're not entirely sure who 'Henry' is, and it's only after she mentions him that her eyes open wide in realization.

"Oh! Goodness, where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself. I'm Elizabeth, sweetheart, but you can call me Miss Liz. Most of the townsfolk do. I know your friend here is Wattson, but who are you?"

Posted: **Fri Aug 02, 2024 8:12 pm**

After my close call with the Nidoqueen's tits - could've been closer, I'm not complaining, I scoot up a little more upright so I can take the bowl of water from her, offering my thanks as she speaks. I'm quick to drink, both to quench my thirst and to try and wash away the pungent taste of Zigzagoon spunk from my mouth. I could feel some of it clinging to my tonsils even now. Washing it away for good was a welcome mercy. I gulp down the entire bowl before wiping my mouth... muzzle... either or, I guess I shouldn't get hung up on terminology right now, dry.

The Nidoqueen continues to be utterly helpful, being very forthcoming with information. Unfortunately none of it means much of anything to me. Burrowtown, Rescue Team, ferals. None of that meant anything. Well, okay... I'm not an idiot. I can figure out what they mean in context. Just... they weren't terms I knew before, yet she said them like I should know them. Which means... I'm more than likely even further away from the Professor and from home than I thought I was.

My legs shuffle closer together beneath the blanket as the full meaning of "patched up" dawns on me. I give her a sheepish look, followed by another "Thank you", this one quieter, yet much more meaningful than the last.

"Tupelo. Yes, he's... well..." I stop myself, my brow furrowing more and more. He was in the ruins with me, but we would hardly refer to them as the 'caverns'. I suppose it wasn't an inaccurate description, but nowhere near the first that comes to mind. And she had said 'mon'. As in Pokémon. She... she wasn't like me, was she? She wasn't a human that had been transformed.

Which... fuck... I don't like the implications of that. That puts me in a much... much more complicated situation than I first thought. And a much more confusing one.

The Nidoqueen's reassuring presence actually helped me stay a little calmer than I would have otherwise been. I was still trying to wrap my head around what was going on, but the fact that at least someone I've found since everything started to go weird was being supportive was a great relief. Maybe... maybe what happened with the Zigzagoons was my... dramatic cold open. And this was my tutorial! A tutorial town! Where I didn't have to worry about winding up some 'feral' Pokémon's fuck toy and I could take time to figure out how to use my new abilities. With my very own tutorial Mommy. Oh! Like Toriel!

My eyes water up a little bit as she introduces herself. "I'm Mira." I say, swallowing back tears before I lunge forward and wrap my arms around her in a big hug. "Please Miss Liz, will you be my Toriel?" I cry out, gripping onto her tightly.

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