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This isn't real.
That's your first thought. For awhile, that's your only thought, sprawled out in the grass on your front, blades flattened under your cheek, your chest, knees stained green where you fell. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.
You've been a Pokemon trainer for a long time, you recall bleakly, neither good enough to be a champion nor so poor you couldn't make a living off of traveling and battling. With experience comes knowledge, and you would know if this was something that happens. And it isn't. It isn't.
Right?
Your head spins, dizzy with disbelief, trying to piece together the exact events that lead up to this. It's not like you're some greenhorn at this, you could probably trek through most of Johto with your eyes closed. But somehow, here you are, on the ground where you landed, winded and dazed with a legendary dog on top of you. There hadn't even been time to reach for your pokeballs, that's how off guard you were caught. One minute you'd been strolling along, and the next you were, well, here.
Here, stunned with silent terror, face down, ass up, with Raikou himself tearing your clothes into ribbons with his teeth.
In the back of your head you weigh your options, tears brimming in your eyes as you immediately find them sorely lacking. Even if you did grab a pokeball from your belt without your assailant noticing, your strongest team member is your starter, Feraligator. The type advantage by itself would be the death of him, and that's not counting the likelihood that a literal god is powerful enough to crush any opponent with level alone. And you can't run either; what good would your silly human legs do against the speed and agility of one of the strongest electric pokemon in the world?
Swallowing down a sob, you realize your only choice is to pray for a swift demise. Your eyes close, your body tense and trembling as Raikou continues to shred your pants from your hips with his sabered fangs. Surely he'll finish you off soon, snap your spine or disembowel you, if you're particularly unlucky.
You flinch when one of his massive forepaws thumps into the grass beside your head, and then the other, shaking so hard that nausea is starting to roil in your stomach. He’s going to grab your throat, or maybe your entire head, in his jaws any moment now.
A pitiful squeak of terror eeks from your lungs as you feel his teeth scrape over the vackof your neck, and then clamp down. You close your eyes in anticipation, breath held awaiting its final exhale that doesn’t come.
Something warm and moist and big brushes over your now bare ass.
. . . Huh?
You're not dead. And perhaps you're not as close to death's doorstep as you'd previously assumed. Raikou's exhales roughly around his shockingly light grip around your throat, fangs not applying enough pressure to do more than bruise. You crack an eye open, bewildered. Why are you not dead?
Fairly quickly, you realize why. That warm, heavy thing brushes between your thighs, over your pussy, and shock hits you like a god damn ice-bucket challenge.
That's a dick. That's Raikou's fucking dick.
He's not killing you.
He's mounting you.
A new sort of fear bubbles up from your lungs, your fingers digging frantically into the earth as horrible reality sinks in. Raikou is three times your size, and from the feel of it, his cock is proportioned to match his legendary monstrosity. And as far as humans go, you're rather on the shorter side. Sure, he might not kill you with his teeth, but that doesn’t mean you still won't die from being split in fucking half.
Raikou's hips buck, and you yelp as you feel the tapered tip of his cock catch against your vulva. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. "It- it's not gonna fit!" you stammer, stricken at the very idea of him trying. That thing will vivisect you long before it's sheathed! "St-stop! It's too- it's too big! It won't-"
The paws on either side of your head flex, claws kneading at the earth, and you screech as the pokemon's hips jerk. His cock shoves at your pussy, too blunt to do more than mush against it on the first attempt. It doesn’t enter you, but the pressure of it trying chokes a whine of protest from your lungs. "No, no, no, no-" you hiccup. Above you, Raikou shifts his stance again, pushes forward. "St -ah!- stop! It's too big! Nn- NUH!"
The moment the tip pops inside is almost anticlimactic, your thighs splaying instinctively apart, mouth open in silent horror and your eyes wide. This isn’t happening. This can't be happening!
It is, though, you can feel it, inch after excruciating inch bullying its way into you as Raikou sinks inside. Your body is straining to accommodate it, abdomen cramping in protest as more and more of the length is stuffed inside, labia pulled so taut it burns around the girth. You gulp in fervent gasps of air, struggling to breathe through the penetration until it finally, finally bottoms out. You can feel the wrongness of it, the way organs have been shoved aside to make it fit, how the skin of your tummy has been pushed out, distended and heavy where its stretched around the cock inside you. It’s a miracle you aren't dead. Hell, you don't even think you're bleeding, even though you're pretty sure you should be.
Although, maybe being alive for this isn't such a blessing, because then Raikou starts moving.
There's nothing tender about the way he bucks his hips, no gentleness in the motion, no care for your comfort. One second he's still, and the next he's all but pistoning, roughly fucking in and out of you so hard and so fast your vision swims from the harshness of it. You can barely even catch your breath between thrusts, hardly able to stay on your knees and endure it, shuddering every time he hilts himself to the base in your overtaxed pussy. Every inhale you manage leaves you in a pathetic burst, a staccato of clipped moans to accompany his vicious lovemaking.
"Nuh- huh- uh- uh- uh-"
Your stomach hurts, guts cramping when they're forced out of place with each thrust, muscles spasming as sinew and skin bulge out around the shape of his cock. And that's nothing compared to the ache of your pussy, the sting of how wide he's stretched your hole, the nauseating sensation of your cervix being battered, pushed, your uterus forced up higher to make room for the size of the thing invading your body. A delirious glance confirms your suspicions, your wide eyes greeted by the sight of your abdomen bulging with Raikou's cock all the way past your navel.
He's going to break you, you think helplessly, a hiccupped groan wavering on your lips as you watch the bulge of him rise, recede, rise in your belly. You're ruined.
You don't register the pleasure until it's already bursting into technicolor, the orgasm taking you by such surprise that you wail with it. Heat coalesces in a tight bundle in your abdomen, somehow only managing to coil tighter as Raikou continues to ruthlessly fuck you through it. He’s so big he's crushing your g-spot, you realize belatedly, your pussy moulded around him, clit purple, pulsing and stiff where it juts out from your spread folds. After a minute, the constant burn of ecstasy causes you to convulse, shivering and shuddering in wakes and ripples, huffing exhales drooled onto the grass.
"Uh- uh- uh- uh- uh-"
The swelling of this knot snaps you back to yourself, albeit briefly, your stricken mind rightfully horrified at the idea of something even bigger being forced inside you before you lose yourself in incoherent instinct again. Just like when he entered you, Raikou starts applying pressure to encourage the knot to stick, claws gouging at the dirt and a growl rumbled around his grip on your neck. You groan in feeble objection, but you already know it’s no use. Raikou will make your body give in.
"Nnnnnuuuuggghhh," you complain wetly, choking on a near sob as the knot shoves insistently, slowly, slowly forcing your pussy wider in tiny increments. "Ggggnnnnnnghhh."
The squelching sound of it successfully popping inside is obscene, made even more so as it sinks in that it's caused by your pussy squirting around it, clenching down and spasming with an undeniable mixture of pleasure and pain. You groan, eyes unseeing and lips parted in stunned pants, face flushed with shame as the squirt of orgasm quickly turns into a stream of piss, the knot heavy and hard where it forces your bladder empty to fit. " Nnnnnhhuuuuhhh-"
The first jet of cum jolts into you, and you just about pass out. It's like someone turned on a hose inside you, the pressure of it intense and uncomfortable. You whine, but that only makes Raikou adjust his stance, grind his hips against yours and push himself that last little bit deeper, a grunt escaping you as you feel the tapered head of his cock fit snug and hard against your bruised cervix. "Nnnn!" It takes you awhile to recognize what he’s done, moaning as the next pump of seed seems to settle deeper. It isn't until he’s spilled a fifth, sixth, and then seventh shot that it becomes clear, your abdomen beginning to distend with the fullness. "Nnnnngggguuuuh!" you moan, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation of your womb expanding to hold the load.
It doesn’t stop, your poor tummy cramping, tears rolling down your cheeks as you finally have to spread your legs even wider as your belly rounds out. You're half afraid Raikou will keep coming until you look pregnant, until you're so large you can't take anymore and burst. It hurts, and yet you shudder through another orgasm of your own anyways, sobbing at the wave of heat that consumes you as your body spasms and shivers with confused ecstasy.
The pullout is abrupt, unpleasant, cum spilling out of your open pussy the moment Raikou's cock is no longer occupying it. You choke on a groan of relief even as your muscles clench up to push more of it out, hot, white semen squirting onto the grass over and over and over again as your body desperately tries to void itself of it.
You don't even notice Raikou is gone until you’ve managed to sit up many long moments later, abused pussy still leaking, thighs trembling with the aftermath of pleasure.
~○~○~○~
You don't sleep well that night, even though by all accounts you should. Almost as soon as you settle down to rest you're gripped by nausea, unable to keep down what little you tried to eat and stumbling away from your sleeping bag to hurl into the bushes. Feraligator, bless him, has the decency to hold your hair out of the way for you, distracted from guard duty by your retching. He coos at you with concern, an affection that sounds more like a growl than a comfort, but you pat him on the snout to assure him anyways. It's probably a trauma response, you figure, nothing serious.
The light of dawn illuminates that you were wrong, the swell of your stomach when you peel back the top of your sleeping bag unmistakable.
Gingerly, you touch the taut stretch of your belly with the tips of your fingers. Your first, somewhat rational thought, is that you've gone completely around the bend. Humans can't be impregnated by pokemon, it's just not possible. And if it was, surely you would have heard of it by now. Also, legendary pokemon don't breed . . . Right!?
Apparently they do though, because one of them has gone and knocked you up.
You can't go into town like this, you realize with dismay. It's so obviously not a human pregnancy, what with the fact that it’s visibly growing, progressing at an acceleration normally only attributed to pokemon conception and gestation. If it keeps going at this rate, you'll be giving birth in a couple of hours at most.
Or that's what you hope, at least, all too aware of the likely size of your unwanted spawn, considering its father. And your fears are confirmed as the sun creeps towards its highest point and starts to descend, your belly rounding out well past a comfortable, human nine months. You're not nearly as afraid that this will kill you as you might have been prior to taking Raikou's cock, but regardless of whether or not you're on the verge of imminent demise, you know it's going to be far from pleasant.
The pain starts well before your water breaks, your body seemingly near its limit, angry red stretch marks decorating the orb of your stomach after your belly button pops out and it still keeps growing. The weight of it makes it hard to move, difficult to breathe, your diaphragm struggling to expand with the thing inside you taking up all the room it can. You've been imobile for awhile by the time your water does break, kneeled on the grass with your forearms braced to a tree for support. Sweat beads over your back when your body contracts for the first time, the pull of your muscles radiating out from your spine and around your middle and dragging a gasp from your lungs. "Oh god," you whimper.
The labor is as rapid as the pregnancy itself. You can feel your cervix straining as it dilates too fast, wincing at the heaviness settling lower between your hips as it does, too blunt and hard to be a baby. Without the water to cushion it, you can see the shape of it inside you, the unmistakable curve of a terrifyingly large egg slowly sinking down with every contraction that grips you. It’s not going to fit, you think hysterically. Raikou's cock already stretched you to your limits, and this is even bigger, two maybe even three times the size of a human newborn.
Your body is starting to revolt against what's happening to it, the ring of your cervix so strained as it desperately widens much further than the ten centimeters it's meant to sending shocks of agony up your trembling spine. The egg is remorseless however, heedless of your body's seeming limits, the weight of it continuing to press down with breathless ferocity. On its heels though comes something worse than the persistent sharp sparks of pain; the urge to push. As soon as you acknowledge it, the instinct intensifies, uncaring about your frantic mantra of, "No, no, no," and "Too big - huuuuh- please, f-fuck, please, no."
You can't deny it forever, unfortunately, the urge turning into a compulsion you can't resist, a hoarse cry torn from your throat as you unwillingly bear down. The result is immediate, immense, the egg shoving hard against the wide ring of your cervix. You release the push with a ragged wail, chest heaving for breath in the scant seconds of reprieve you have before your body contracts, again.
Teeth gritted, you brace your hands to the tree trunk, spread your thighs further apart, and push. "Nnnnnnnggggghhhh!" The spreading sensation inside you worsens, and you can visibly see the egg shifting lower in your abdomen as you suck in a breath and bear down again, hiccupping in agony. "Huh- uh- nuuuuuuuh!" Your whole body arches like it's trying to escape its ordeal, the shell of the egg beginning to bully its way out of your womb. The massive shape of it is descending into your pelvis, filling up the limited space, a groan tumbling from your mouth as you feel your body struggling to make room for it. You didn't have much to drink last night between bouts of nausea, but there's more than enough in you for the egg to squeeze out as it's shoved further into your birth canal. Humiliation simmers low at the back of your thoughts, the urgency of everything else too overwhelming for you to give it attention. You push, and pee squirts into the grass as your bladder is crushed flat by the gravid orb inside you.
It's so big, you're so full, your pussy pulsing open in anticipation with every push. Muscles aching, you bear down again, head tilted low to watch with morbid fascination as the base of the egg bumps roughly at the exit to your pelvis, too big to go any further. You strain, shudder, pushing with the fervent contractions while the pain mounts. Your aching hips shake, taut belly jutting up with every fruitless effort. The sensation of your bones struggling to hold together is sickening, and your stomach lurches as your body gives an audible pop as the joint in the center of your pubic arch gives out.
Instantly, the egg bullies itself towards the opening of your pussy, uncaring for your stricken, agonized sobs, your sex bulging outward with the weight. You can barely widen your stance enough to accommodate it, gasping around dry heaves before you pull yourself together and push again, tears streaming down your cheeks. This thing is literally breaking you, uncaring as you retch from the pain of it, saliva coughed from your mouth through your sobs. You might be dying, you acknowledge faintly, excruciating pain shuddering through you with each fresh contraction. The egg has completely taken up your birth canal now, forced your pelvis to mold around it, the weight sitting full and heavy just inside you. The entire shape of it is outlined in the bowl of your hips, disgustingly large and nearing a fourth of the size of your own body. It's not going to come out, you think hysterically. It can't, you'll die.
There isn't time to dwell on it for too long, though, another fierce contraction gripping you tight. "AAAANNNNNGGGHHH!" The howl of anguish peters off into a helpless sob, your straining muscles bearing down instinctively, pushing as your pussy bulges to an obscene degree between your legs. It doesn’t feel like your thighs are far enough apart, the hard shell struggling to emerge taking up every bit of space at the apex of them. You push again with a loud, shivering groan, unable to stop. There’s nothing you can do but press on, your body desperate to be rid of its burden. You have to push. You have to lay.
The sensation of the egg trying to emerge is disgusting and foreign, your flushed and swollen vulva straining and rounded by the shape of it. Your throbbing clit is bullied up between your folds as you push, purpled and aching, twitching as slick drips from your opening hole. All your effort is focused downwards, breaths shallow as you push and whine when the egg sinks back inside whenever it seems to budge even the smallest bit of progress. You heave on an inhale, and the hole of your too-small pussy widens incrementally, cool air stroking your blooming labia as you struggle, and pant, and push.
How long you're stuck like that, you have no idea, your body fighting against the sheer size of the egg for long, awful minutes before something seems to give. You push with a wailing moan, and your labia strains into a taut ring, thin and bloodless, the massive egg finally starting to slide out before you gulp down a frantic breath, and it sinks right back in. Maybe it's the suddenness of it, the weight jolting inside you as it fights gravity, but beneath the pain blooms an awful, deep ache of arousal, and your strained hips twitch as you let out a helpless moan.
It doesn’t help, the pleasure barely a whisper of comfort compared to the agony, yet your desperate mind zeroes in on it anyways. Anything, anything to distract you, even if it's something as sick as the possibility of orgasming around a monster's egg.
The next time you push, the feeling is more prominent, a simmering combatant to the burn of your labia struggling to stretch around your burden. There’s no way to describe it other than heavy, a constant pressure on your spot that has you gasping, pushing harder, harder, tears streaming down your cheeks as you shudder with how much it hurts. "Please, oh Arceus- nnnggghhh-"
You aren't afraid of tearing at this point, more focused on just getting the damn thing out than worrying about the already broken stare of your body, so when the egg still doesn't make much progress, sinking back in after every desperate push, you find no relief in it. It doesn’t matter if your body is trying to give you time to stretch, you don't want it to. You just want this nightmare to be over.
The egg rolls down once more with a contraction, pushing, pushing, pushing until the sting of your pussy straining around it fades into a stagnant fire. Fuck. Fuck. You can feel how wide it's forced you, a shaking hand reaching to cup around yourself, heel of your thumb brushing your clit. The entire space between your legs belongs to the egg now, your whole pussy, your ass, bulging around the shell that's slowly, slowing starting to emerge. You gulp down an agonized breath, and bear down again.
Each inch of the egg sliding through you is torture, one you can feel every tiny bit of. You're so fucking full, dizzy each time you think it through your whimpers of, "Stop stop stop," that neither your body nor the egg heeds. You can't stop, and with every sharp flash of ecstasy as it bullies its way out of your pussy, you're not quite sure you want to, either.
Oh, sure, this will ruin you. Absolutely. Indefinitely. But it's going to make you come first, and your rattled mind fixates on that, a light at the end of the dark tunnel. You want to come, fall apart as you give birth to this burden that was forced upon you, why wouldn't you? After all, this is probably the only thing you'll be good for now.
When you do come, you almost black out from the intensity of it, the egg cresting at a full crown, so big you doubt you'd be able to even fit it into your backpack. It holds there, like it can sense your desperation, stuck for a minute as you push fruitlessly between contractions, held at its widest point with the brunt of it nestled in the perfect place to make you squeal. Which you do, half pain half blinding pleasure, slick squirting out of you as a contraction builds and peaks until, finally, finally, it slides free.
You collapse the moment it's out, one fumbling hand cupping around the gape of yourself that it has left in its wake. There’s no doubt that you could fit a full fist and then some in the mess it's left of you, and you clench feebly around nothing but air and the trembling tips of your fingers, delirious with how disgusting the emptiness feels. You don't know what to do with that emotion, that ache that settles as goue body grapples with the lack of something where there used to be so much. But when you lift your hand up, you're startled to find there's only the pinkest tinge of blood in the clear fluid strung between your fingers.
It's a temporary solace, assuming you'll forget, assuring yourself that the void doesn't need to be filled while you lay there, panting with exhaustion and yet somehow alive. A good week or so of rest, and you'll be able to pretend this never happened, for real this time, move on and continue your life.
And yet . . .
And yet.