AGNPH Stories

Broken (Final Edit) by oneshotkill


Story Notes:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1

His back was sore. And wet. He opened his eyes slowly, only to be met with darkness. Wherever he was, the air was still and dank. There were no sounds save for his breathing, and the slow, steady dripping of water hitting the stone floor somewhere behind him. He mind fuzzily registered a weight around his neck and wrists. He shrugged them in turn, which rewarded him with the sound of clinking metal. He was chained. That most definitely struck him as odd, never-mind that he had no idea where he was, nor how he gotten there to begin with.

He sat in the gloom for a few moments, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could faintly make out walls in front of, and to the sides of him. So, he was in some sort of stone room. No, chamber would have been more accurate. He found this slightly disconcerting, for he could not recall having been indoors recently. In fact, he was having trouble recollecting a myriad of things at the moment. He gave a small huff of annoyance. Not content with sitting in darkness, the Typhlosion attempted to ignite the ring of combustible vents around his neck. He was quite surprised when instead of erupting into a glorious, flaming mane as expected, the smallest of flames flickered into existence, allowing him a brief glance of the chamber before weakly sputtering out.

His brow furrowed. The chains binding him traveled about ten or so feet forward, leading to a pair foot-long pegs that were staked into the floor. Beyond that, what he had originally believed to be a wall was in reality a large, steel grate. He shook his head. No, not a grate, it had been more of a door. He shook his head again. He was getting ahead of himself. The question of where he was wasn't nearly as important as the reason for him being here. He closed his eyes, trying to gain some semblance of a recollection.

He had been traveling. Yes, through the desert. There was something he had needed to do, something important. But something had happened. There had been a sandstorm. He had gotten lost, and that's when he remembered. A chill traveled up his spine as he remembered taking a step, and his foot meeting no resistance. He recalled a sickening sense of vertigo and falling for what had seemed like an eternity before his mind had been swallowed by unconsciousness.

He was dragged from his revelry by a rhythmic clicking that steadily grew louder, drawing ever closer. His body tensed as flames suddenly sprang to life outside of the door, the light casting long shadows through through the bars of the door as he squinted into the light, his eyes frantically attempting to adjust to the sudden brightness.

A large figure stood on the opposite side of the door, though because of the way the light was entering the chamber, added to the fact that the figure stood in front of the flames, meant all the Typhlosion could make out was a somewhat blurred silhouette.

A metallic clanking reverberated throughout the chamber as the door began to slide sideways into the adjoining wall. As the figure stood stoically at the newly created threshold, the Typhlosion 's stomach dropped. A most curious sensation had befallen him. The emotion was relatively alien to him, and it was only after a moment that he labeled it as fear. He could imagine that this was what it felt like to be prey. His breath hitched slightly in his chest as a feeling of barely contained malice filled the chamber. He inadvertently began to lightly struggle against the chains, his mind subconsciously desiring to put distance between himself and the newcomer.

Suddenly the figure stepped into the chamber, before halting and turning to the wall on it's right. It extended an arm forward and touched the wall, before quickly swiping down with a sharp grinding noise, creating a shower of sparks which caused a previously unseen torch on the wall to ignite.

The Typhlosion's eyes narrowed as the identity of the stranger was revealed. The pokemon was dark blue, with a red underbelly that covered it from the middle of it's abdomen, to it's jaws, and then to the undersides of it's arms. Underneath the red was a gold diamond, as well as a gold cross on it's snout; which gave it a similarity to a Sharpedo. It sported four fins, one on each arm, the largest running along the length of it's spine, and another sprouting from the tip of it's tail. Two rounded, blunt horns sat atop it's head at the front of it's snout. Pairs of pale bony spikes sat just underneath both shoulders along with two other pairs resting just below it's hips. Each arm terminated in a foot-long claw, with the fins on it's arms beginning just below the wrist. The scleras of it's eyes were black, with dull golden pupils, which were at the moment narrowed hungrily at him.

"Oh, I see that my new toy is finally awake."

The Typhlosion's eyes widened with shock at the Garchomp's feminine voice. Irregardless of appearance, he would not have expected his captor, or whom he assumed was his captor, to be female. Shock gave way to indignation as her words hit home, causing his eyes to glint angrily, all pretense of fear forgotten. "Your toy?" His voice scraped roughly against his dry throat, and an absent thought caused him to wonder when he had last had anything to drink. His muscles struggled futilely against the chains."You're mistaken. I am nobodies plaything."

The Garchomp leered at him, chuckling darkly, her mouth splitting open to reveal row upon row of razor sharp fangs. She shook her head slightly. "No, it is you who are mistaken. You are under my power. Although I'm quite sure that you are powerful in your own right, at the moment you aren't quite in a position to make statements like that. Not after that nasty little spill you took, and certainly not while you're chained up and soaked with water. Don't you find it odd? How you can't use any of your fire techniques? Why you woke up in a pool of water? Even if you weren't aware of it, it doesn't change the fact that you would probably be hard pressed to blow smoke at me. So, at this point in time, you would do well to listen, because from now on, my word is your law." Her eyes narrowed as her voice adopted a sickly sweet tone. "If I so wished it, I could snap you in half like a twig."

The Typhlosion's face contorted with fury, baring his fangs at the dragon type and letting out an enraged and defiant roar. The grin slowly slipped from the Garchomp's face, instead being replaced by a deep scowl. "So you still have some fight left in you? Very well. That's part of the fun." The shark-toothed grin returned."I am going to make you learn obedience, and I'll start by stripping away that amusingly defiant spirit you seem so keen to hold on to."

With this she quickly advanced forward, bending over and removing the chains from the stakes, before pulling down on them, which caused the Typhlosion to be dragged upward by his arms until he was suspended nearly a foot off the ground, bringing him eye to eye with the dragoness.

Despite the knowledge that he was unable to produce fire at the moment, he reared his head back and attempted to unleash a torrent of flame into her face. The result was far from what he desired, as a pitifully small wave of heat expanded outward from his mouth, causing her to squint as it dried out her eyes slightly.

" going to cost you."

Before he had time to reply, she drew one of her arms back and before he could react, slammed the fin into his diaphragm, forcing the air explosively out of his lungs as his ribs snapped with a dull crack. His eyes bulged slightly as his mouth soundlessly hung open, a small trickle of blood leaking from the corner. After a few agonizing moments of fruitlessly trying to draw in breath, his lungs mercifully regained their ability to expand, though the reprieve was brief, as every ragged breath forced his brutalized ribcage to expand, causing the shattered bone fragments to dig into his flesh. His vision started to turn hazy as the pain began to overwhelm him. He glanced back up at the Garchomp, a sadistic smile distorting her features. Despite the pain, he continued to glare at her. His voice came out in wheezy gasps."F-fu-fuck...y-you."

Her smile grew even wider. She bared her teeth menacingly, and let out a throaty chuckle. "This is going to be more entertaining than I thought, typically my playthings lose consciousness by now, but I can see you're different."

She tenderly brought a claw up to his face, before digging it into his cheek and viciously dragging it across, leaving an inch deep gash in his flesh, eliciting a pained grunt from the fire type as his blood splashed across the stone floor. She brought the blood soaked claw up to her mouth, before lightly lapping the blood up, causing her to shiver in pleasure. "Not bad. It certainly tastes better than some of my previous conquests." Her eyes widened excitedly as she was suddenly struck by inspiration.

"I have an idea...why don't you have a taste of me, my defiant little fireball?"

The Typhlosion gazed at her confusedly through half-lidded for a moment as she reached up and removed the chains from the hooks that had kept them attached to the ceiling, before a peculiar scent assaulted his nose. It was salty, and slightly earthen, with a hint of what could only be called musk. To his surprise, he found himself being slowly lowered to the ground, until his head was level with the dragoness' hips. His eyes widened in surprise as he found himself in full view of her vagina.

Its appearance caught him off guard. It was almost completely featureless, lacking the lips of a mammalian pokemon, and was basically nothing more than a small split in between her legs, the only defining feature was the abnormally large clitoris, which was roughly the size of a oran berry. It glistened with her juices and was dripping slightly. The smell was oppressive, and made his head spin. He glanced disbelievingly up at the Garchomp, who was now panting slightly in excitement and anticipation. "I think you know what to do. Oh, and don't try anything I wouldn't like, or I assure you, you will regret it.

She shook her hips impatiently, and when he did nothing, placed a claw behind his head and smashed his face into her slit, smearing her fluids across his face, soaking his fur. He let out a low growl. He was not going to tolerate this. Better to die than suffer this humiliation any longer. He opened his mouth, his hot breath tickling her snatch, causing her to quiver with pleasure. The enjoyment was short lived, however, as he quickly bit down on her clit, his fangs tearing open the soft flesh and filling his mouth with blood. She roared in agony as he continued to saw on the fleshy organ, before her eyes became a lit with fury. The Garchomp raised her arm high above her head, before slamming it down viciously on his head.


His head throbbed, the pain of it so severe he almost lost consciousness once more. He attempted to open his eyes, but found that only one obeyed his command, the other having swollen shut. He tried to twist around slightly, and found he was no longer chained to the ceiling, nor were his hands bound. He reached up towards his neck, and winced slightly as a dull ache filled his chest. This perplexed him greatly, seeing as how he had only recently had his ribs broken, meaning it most definitely should have been more than a dull ache he was experiencing, which caused him to wonder how long he had been unconscious. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised to find he was still alive. He had been almost completely sure that she would have killed him for what he had done. Apparently not, which caused dread to form a small pit in his stomach. Obviously she had plans for him, but what those plans were...well, he wasn't exactly enthralled by the prospect of more torture.

He glanced around, trying to gain sense of his surroundings. It appeared that he was in the same cell, the only difference being that the chamber was now well lit by a ring of wall mounted torches. He looked down at the floor, the cold, gray, smooth stone's monotonous continuation only being disturbed by a few small splashes of burgundy. His brow furrowed. The stale stench clinging to the floor letting him know that the blood on the floor was his. What confused him about this is that the blood smelled days, maybe even weeks, old. He shook his head. It made no sense. If his line of thought held any truth whatsoever, then his captor had kept him alive, and guessing from his condition, had neglected to further torment him while he been comatose.

He didn't have any time to mull this over though, as the familiar sound of clawed footfalls began to echo from the out-of-sight recesses of the cave. After a moment, the Garchomp was standing in front of the cell door. They locked eyes for a moment, before she slid the door into the wall and stepped inside. As she continued towards him, he bared his teeth, a tired growl rumbling in his chest.

Unperturbed, she stopped in front of him, looking him over once, her expression stoic. They stood in silence for a moment. When she spoke, her tone was curious."I must say, you perplex me to no end. Despite what has been done to you, you remain resistant. You must have realized by now that you will not leave this place for the remainder of your life. Yet you still hold out."

He continued to glower at her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a small scowl tugging at her face. "So I've been thinking-"And now she was smiling, her sharks grin causing him to fidget uncomfortably. "-that if I can't tear your defiance from you, I'll just have you discard it." With this she touched her forehead to his, and before he even had time to wonder was she was doing, she had blown a single, large neon pink heart into his face.

The effect was almost immediate. His body suddenly felt feverish, and almost instantly his nose was bombarded by that same pheromone laden smell. He eagerly glanced down, and felt his erection begin to push through his sheath as he was greeted by the sight of the Dragoness' dripping slit. She was panting lightly. "Lick me."

His mind was cloudy. What little resistance he had left was quickly overwhelmed by primal instinct. Almost unconsciously, he lowered himself to his knees, and lightly breathed in her scent, before mashing his snout into her entrance, causing her to moan slightly. He extended his tongue into her overflowing snatch, lapping up the fluids as the Garchomp writhed and hissed in pleasure. As his tongue roughly brushed the dragoness' insides, her vaginal walls gripped the slick muscle, contracting spastically.

Any restraint he had once possessed was mere memory, as he dragged his tongue from her glistening entrance, causing her to groan in frustration before he turned his attention to the now pulsing, fleshy clitoris. He wrapped his mouth around it, lightly sucking at the bulb while he rolled his tongue around it in light circles.. As he focused his mouth on her clit, he deftly brought one of his paws up to the Garchomp's throbbing slit, faintly rubbing it before sticking the whole thing inside.
This was too much for the dragon type pokemon, whose eyes bulged as she wrapped her claws tightly around her partner's head, her climax crashing down upon her with the force of a tidal wave, her walls gripping madly at his paw, before her lubricating juices pulsed out, drenching the Typhlosion's face and chest, soaking his fur. She lay panting on the ground for a few moments, before flipping over onto all fours and glancing behind her.

The Typhlosion's mind was blank, now completely consumed by primal desire. His erection stood completely out of his sheath, eight inches of dark red, pulsing flesh, with a knot roughly half the size of a tennis ball, a small amount of precum resting at the tip. He gazed greedily at her dripping snatch, and a wanton smile stretched her face. She raised her tail, giving him an even better view of her womanhood, as she waved it enticingly at him, shaking her hips slightly.

"Take me."

Needing no further instruction, the fire type took two quick steps forward, and gripped her hips, before blindly running his member along the length of her slit before finding purchase and thrusting forward. Both pokemon groaned loudly as their bodies joined together, the dragoness' walls gripping tightly at the foreign object within their depths. The Typholsion drew his member out, almost to the tip, before violently pushing forward, hilting himself, eliciting a pleasure filled spasm from his partner. He repeated this for some time, eventually picking up his pace and shortening his thrusts. The pair's lust filled moans reverberated throughout the cavern, as the Garchomp began slamming her hips backwards into her partner's, eventually falling into a rhythm.

Eventually the strain became to much as her second climax washed over her, causing her to shout out in ecstasy as her slick walls clamped down on the Typhlosion's pulsing cock, trying to milk him for all that he was worth. Unable to hold back any longer, the fire type pokemon let out a short grunt as his pulsing member twitched, sending wave upon wave of white hot seed into the dragoness' depths.

His energy spent, he promptly collapsed on top of her as fatigue and exhaustion set in, slipping into unconsciousness while his softening member remained inside her.


He was standing in a field. That's how he knew he was dreaming. The wind blew softly through his fur, and the sun shone on his face. The ring of trees surrounding the clearing were just starting to bloom, light-pinkish flowers wafting softly on their branches as the breeze blew past them. He sighed in content, a soft smile playing at his lips. He was home. And even if it wasn't real, despite the knowledge that he would soon be leaving, just being here, where he had been born, and stayed, and raised his own family, with all it's comforts and familiarity, was a welcome solace. He drew strength from it.

He glanced eagerly hoping that because he was dreaming, she would be here. A soft giggling behind him caused him to turn, and sure enough it was her. The wind rustled her brown fur, and also catching her large ears, their cream colored tips blowing towards him, carrying the soft scent of pecha berries, softly, almost lazily, past him. Her black and red eyes beheld his own crimson, which were now swimming with tears.

She stood in front of him expectantly, her arms held open. He took numb, stumbling steps towards her, and eventually they embraced. Shuddering sobs racked his form. Her paws rubbed his back soothingly, her fingers lightly playing with his fur. He gripped her tightly, fearing any moment she would disappear.

"I've...god. I've missed you so much."

She had died, years ago. During the storm, the sweeping floods having carried her away. It had been horrible. For nearly a year, he had considered joining her, taking his own life and following her, the only thing staying his hand had been the children. He nuzzled her neck, his tears staining her fur. He pulled away from her slightly, he wanted to take in her every feature, greedily scanning her dark eyes, her soft lips, the way that single strand of fur curled on her head.

She continued to smile, before placing a hand reassuringly on his cheek.

"It's okay, Ifrit. I'm not going anywhere.

He shook his head, words failing to form. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how he had missed her, how every day without her was less fulfilling because of it. Her smile grew wider. She balled her hand into a fist and lightly tapped him on the head.

"I know that you big oaf."

He closed his eyes. "Why now?"

She still smiled, but a sadness had entered her gaze.

"Because you need to be strong."

"His eyes widened, before glinting with anger. His teeth ground together, as memories of what had happened in his waking moments returned. A deep shame filled him. He had been used, a simple technique was all it had taken. He had betrayed his honor. He glanced at his mate, before turning away in horror. He had betrayed her. At this her hand found his cheek again, forcing his head around, making him look at her. She was shaking her head.

"It wasn't your fault."

But it had been. He had been weak. So weak. He could have resisted, could have tried harder. A steady stream of tears leaked from his eyes as he wept without restraint.

"Nadia, I am so sor-"

Her hand covered his mouth, silencing him.

"I've already forgiven you. Even though there is nothing that needs to be forgiven. I would not have you torment yourself."

She smiled again.

"I know it's hard, Ifrit. I know you want to stay here, that you just want to give in to that hag." Her look turned hard. "But I need you to be strong. It will only get more difficult, you'll suffer more. But if you persevere, if you endure it, there's a real chance you can end her. You can save all those who she would capture after you. You can prevent so many from suffering."

Her voice was reassuring.

"You are so, so strong, my love. You have a warmth about you that she will never be able to reach. Hold onto that. That is your strength. It's why...I love you.


The Lopunny grabbed her mate's head in both her hands, and brought it down, lightly kissing him.



He opened his eyes slowly, the earthen smell of the cave, mingled with the smells of sex invading his nostrils. He drew his arms and legs under him, pushing himself up slowly, softly groaning as his muscles sorely protested the sudden movement. He turned his head, scanning the dimly lit cavern. It appeared his tormentor had taken her leave. He reached towards his neck, and growled irritably. The collar was still there. As he moved around, he became aware of the fact that patches of his fur were matted, and smell quite pungent. He frantically looked around, before rushing over to the small pool of water that had been used to sap his strength. He dived into it, eagerly splashing water over himself, determined to remove any evidence of his shameful display of weakness. He shuddered in disgust. Her scent was all over him. That horrible, earthen, reptilian stench. The strength of it caused him to redouble his efforts.

He paused as that damnable clicking began to draw closer. He refused to turn and acknowledge her he heard his cell door slam open with a grinding clank. He sat bent over for a few moments, the only sound breaking the silence was the light splashing of water as he continued to wash himself. He stopped for a moment when he heard giggling. He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder, only to behold the sight of the bitch, a claw held to her mouth, a look of intense amusement on her face.

"Awww-"she said, her look changing to one of mock insult."I could have sworn you enjoyed my scent. You certainly didn't object to it last night."

He turned to face her, his eyes alive with rage, his fangs bared, fur standing up on edge, the beginnings of a roar taking shape in his lungs.

Her brow furrowed as she brought her claws to her face in mock surprise."You mean you didn't? Oh, you wound me!" She began to laugh viciously. "Well, you're enjoyment and cooperation are moot points. I've already proven that they're not needed for me to use you." She bared her teeth in a malicious grin. "Anyway, I didn't come here to trade banter with you, although I must say, it is extremely amusing, seeing you get riled up like that."

She began to walk towards him, her long tail sweeping forward, revealing an old wooden bucket, the tip of her tail wrapped dexterously around it. She slammed it down in front of him. He peered at it gingerly. Inside was what appeared to be a viscous, clay colored sludge. Pale fumes wafted upwards from it, invading his nostrils, and he was forced to suppress a gag, bile building at the back of his throat. He looked up at her uncertainly. Her smile had grown wider, lips pulled back in a masochistic grin.

"I can't have you starving to death. Eat."

Ifrit's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't be serious. This was far beyond the realms of usual cruelty. This vile...concoction was food? No. Absolutely not. He would not demean himself further by eating something a Muk would turn away from. He looked up at her, glaring menacingly. If anything her smile grew even wider.

"I thought you might be this way." she chuckled, reaching towards him."Then I suppose I'll just have to force it down your throat."

Ifrit's eyes widened violently as the opportunity he had waited ages for presented itself. He drew his head back, before swinging it forward as hard as he could, his skull colliding with her own directly above her left eye with a sharp, hollow thud, sending her careening backwards towards the opposite end of the cave with a screech. His hands quickly darted towards his collar, attempting to desperately try and remove it, before he was overcome with a sudden wave of nausea. He stumbled heavily, his right eye closing as blood slowly trickled into it. He took two wheezing, panting breaths before losing his balance and falling backwards into the pool. He lay there, gasping for breath, the water sapping what was left of his strength. He silently cursed himself, he had believed he had more energy than this, and admonished himself for having allowed his body to grow so weak.

A impossibly loud roar of unmitigated fury deafened him for a moment, reverberating off the stone walls. So impossibly loud he was sure he heard the sound of the stone walls cracking. He opened his good eye, and was greeted by the sight of the enraged dragoness standing above him, trembling with fury. The spot where his double-edge had struck had caved in slightly, leaving a bloody, gore ridden indent above her eye. She glared at him evilly, her breath coming, in short, ragged huffs. She bared her teeth, her voice shaking with rage.

"Quite an impressive attack. I see now that unchaining you was a grave lapse in judgment. It seems your spirit is much stronger than I first believed. Fine. If you're so adamant about resisting me, then I will just have to tear apart your soul until nothing remains." She raised her tail high into the air, before rapidly spinning around and swinging it down, imbedding her tail fin in his gut. His eyes widened in pain and shock, as a sickly gurgle bubbled from his throat, blood and spittle flying into the air. As darkness began to overcome him, the last thing to reach his ears was the Garchomp's victorious cackle.


He flitted in and out of consciousness. Distorted, feverish dreams darting through his brain. Nadia, telling him to persevere, her eyes full of pride. His daughter, his firstborn. A Lopunny like her mother. She had gone out on her own years ago, intending to start a family of her own. His son. Nava. A strong, young Quilava, his pride given form. He had left even earlier, before Nadia's death, determined to make a name for himself out in the world. His own father, a Blaziken, nothing more than a faint memory, frail and sickly from disease, even near death, his last words voicing disapproval. A shark toothed demon, digging claws of cold steel into his flesh. The dream warped.

He found himself in a vast sea of foul smelling water, a small piece of flotsam, which he clung to desperately, his only lifeline. The waves crashed upon him harshly, nearly forcing him under the vile liquid. He dug his claws madly into the piece of wood, which shattered from the strain, sinking. With nothing to hold onto, he was quickly dragged under. He attempted to resist the chaotic flow of the water to no avail. It filled his mouth, his lungs, and his nose all with a horrible, putrid stench. Vomit rose up quickly, mixing with the disgusting fluid. He couldn't breathe. He thrashed violently. He was drowning, his lungs screaming for air. He couldn't breathe. He attempted to swim upward, only to be tossed around viciously by the churning sea. He couldn't breathe. His eyes jerked open.

He was in the cavern, the torchlight blinding him. He still couldn't breathe. A hard tube was jammed down his throat, forcing the horrid sludge that the Garchomp had attempted to feed him earlier down his throat. He tried to spit it out, only to find his jaws were locked together, strapped shut with some sort of leather muzzle,which dug harshly into his skin. He tried to rip the muzzle off, but his hands were hoisted above his head, chained to the ceiling once more. He kicked his feet violently as the taste quickly overwhelmed him, vomit rushing forward, shooting out from between his lips, and oozing out from his nostrils. A muffled cry of despair crawled from his lungs. Sadistic laughter was it's answer.

The Garchomp was to his left, her tail wrapped around the tube in his mouth, which fed into a soft leather sack full of the sludge. Her foot pressed softly down onto it, which elicited a soft gurgle as Ifrit moaned pitifully, more of the terrible substance being forced into his gullet. The dragoness cackled again, seeming to enjoy his misery. It was small comfort to see there was now what appeared to be a permanent indent where his blow had struck."Oh, I see you're awake. How splendid! It's no fun causing pain to someone who isn't even there to feel it you know." She stomped on the bag, completely emptying it's contents into his stomach, which he promptly regurgitated, the vomit seeping down, coating his fur in a foul smelling mix of sludge and bile.

He hung limply from the chains, weakly swinging back and forth. Soft, dismal moans of anguish escaping his throat. His eyes stared hazily at nothing, his stomach clenching painfully. The agony of it so great he very nearly slipped into unconsciousness again.

The dragoness merely stood there for a moment, tail swinging back and forth sinuously, a look of deep satisfaction on her face. She walked up to him slowly, before harshly jerking the tube from his mouth, tearing out two of his fangs. The Garchomp dropped the tube, letting it fall to the floor with a metallic clatter. After gazing upon the battered Typhlosion for a moment, she placed a claw beneath his chin, forcing his head up. Her black, remorseless eyes stared into his own, which looked unseeingly back. She let out a satiated chuckle. "It's seems you're finally starting to understand."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, lightly clicking her tongue in reflection. "However, I'm a firm believer in the concept that a little extra instruction can never do any harm." She laughed ironically. "And in your case, I believe that I need to have a little more fun with you to drive my point home." With this she spun on her heel and strode out his cell, humming happily to herself, the door grinding to a close behind her, leaving him to swing numbly back and forth.

A few moments later, she returned, this time carefully carrying what appeared to be a stone basin full of some sizzling, pale liquid. She set it down in front of him, before turning away and slashing off one of the bars of the cell door. He wondered mutely what fresh horror the dragoness had prepared for him. She stepped over to him and waved a claw in his face. "You still with me?" She reached over and tore off his muzzle, abrading the skin of his snout. "I want to hear you scream for this next part."She bent over, making certain his eyes were open. The malicious grin once again on her face, sharks teeth glinting in the dim light."I have something for you."

With this she turned, and slowly dipped the bar into the fluid quickly, and the effect was immediate. The metal began to froth and bubble, thick black smoke rising from the bar. The hard substance began to soften, drops of molten steel falling into the basin. Her voice was barely a whisper now, full of vicious glee. She faced him. "Do you like it? I'm guessing you're wondering what this is." Her voice trembled with barely suppressed joy, her excitement was palpable. The Garchomp brought the bar up, the end still smoking, and waved it slowly underneath his nose."Snorlax stomach acid. A little memento from a previous toy." Not giving him a chance to reply, she swiftly dipped the bar into the basin and brushed it against his leg.

The effect was instantaneous. The acid began to eat away at his flesh, which began to bleed profusely as more and more layers of skin dissolved. The pain was indescribable, far worse than anything he had been forced to endure up until this point. His back arched sharply as he uselessly struggled against his chains, his agony filled screams tearing at his throat until it was raw. After a moment, the Garchomp quickly unhooked his chains from the ceiling, causing him to fall into the water with a large splash. He rose out of the water, gasping desperately for breath. He whimpered pitifully, the water had managed to dilute the acid, washing it off his leg, but most of the skin was gone, exposing patches of pink muscle underneath, The water was quickly turning crimson, his blood mingling with the shallow pool. His reprieve was brief as she wrapped her tail around his throat, dragging him out of the water, before lifting him into the air. He gagged sightly as she increased the pressure on his neck. She smiled victoriously at him."I think you finally get the message."

She drew her head back, her eyes alive with sadistic excitement, before slamming it into his own, a large pink heart expanding in-between their pressed together flesh.


He wasn't sure how long he had been here. Weeks? Months? Years? For him, the passage of time had come to all but a standstill as he had fallen into a world of torment and pain. Where there had once been packs of tight muscle, now only an emaciated body of skin and bone remained. Scars adorned his frame, mementos of his captor's various tortures. His left ear was gone, having been destroyed by acid long ago, nothing more than a small hole on the side of his head. His vents had not been ignited in what had seemed for like an eternity, and after enough time had passed, an unusual chill had taken root in his body, forgetting the heat of the flames it had once possessed. He had forgotten the taste of fruit, could not remember the pleasure of water, failed to recall the sound and feel of the wind. The only emotion he acknowledged was despair.

At the moment, he was resting in his cell, his energy spent from the previous night's coupling. His ear perked as the now customary sound of his mistress approaching sounded down the hall, the familiar click-clacking of claws against stone. He didn't rise as he heard his cell door open, and only opted to turn his head when she was standing mere feet away.

His tired eyes beheld his mistress. As of late, she had been growing increasingly disinterested in him, their couplings growing more and more sparse. As he looked weakly at her, his mind numbly took note of the coldness with which her eyes regarded him. She opened her mouth, her voice toneless as she addressed him. "I no longer have any use for you."

He merely stared at her, his body barely having the energy to do just that. She continued speaking.
"You have served your purpose well, you were a fine plaything, but now you are broken and worn down, and I no longer have any interest in you."

She turned away from him. "I am going to leave you here, and you shall wither away and fade from memory. Tragic, isn't it? You were once such a fine specimen, and now you're destined to be forgotten, like those before you."

As she began to leave, a trill of an emotion he had not felt in ages flowed through him. It took him a moment before he recognized it. Fury. Rage. Righteous hatred. Anger at being stripped of all that had made him, him. Made to suffer indignities like a fucking animal. Stripped of any and all choice, forced to the beck and call of this demon in female form.

It was an otherworldly force that caused him to rise slowly to his feet. A force which made him focus his energy into stalking slowly forward towards the unaware dragoness'. Nadia's voice rang in his ears.

"You can prevent so many from suffering."

And he would. He would not allow anyone else to suffer at this monster's hands. She heard the clinking of his chain, but paid it no mind. After all, what threat did a worn out husk of a pokemon pose to her? He was upon her in seconds, throwing the chain over her head and around her neck, dragging her down and slamming her to the floor.

Her eyes widened in shock as she was slowly strangled, her claws at first clutching futiley at the chain, then lashing out at her attacker, leaving deep gouges in his chest and arms, which began to bleed profusely, yet he did not relinquish his grip. She began to panic, her eyes bulging and pleading.

He felt no pity, as he mercilessly tightened the chain more and more around her neck until finally a sharp crack echoed off the stone walls. He let the chain slide loosely from his hands, lightly clinking against the stone floor. He stumbled weakly past the corpse, bearing it no mind. He crossed the threshold of the cell for the first time, and turned around, gripping the door and slamming it closed.

His nose, though weak from under-use, was still able to pick up the dry, acrid scent of sand coming from his right. He followed what appeared to be a interconnected network of tunnels. He slowly limped through the tunnels, following the scent. He soon noticed that his path had turned into an incline, eventually leading to the mouth of brightly lit cave.

He raised a paw to his eyes, the sunlight that filed in from the cave's entrance nearly blinding him. He continued forward, and eventually, for the first time in he didn't know how long, he was outside.

A vicious sandstorm tore at his fur, the wind tossing it about. He stood at the mouth of the cave for a moment, and simply stared. He wouldn't be able to cross the desert. He no longer had the strength. She had stripped him of everything. His strength. His pride. His happiness. His life. And almost all forms of choice. But he still had one thing left to him. The one thing she had been unable to rip from his grasp.

Ifrit smiled softly.

The one choice he had left. It was time to make it. This is what she had been talking about. What had been torn from his wasn't his true strength. Or maybe it was something different all together. He sighed tiredly, and glanced backwards once more. The strength he needed for what was about to come, he still possessed in spades. He stepped out into the desert, and spoke softly into the screaming gale.

"I'm coming."

And with a triumphant smile upon his face, allowed the sands to claim him, the scent of pecha berries tickling his nose.
Chapter End Notes:Well, creating this story turned out to be quite the experience, it's quaint 3500 word count very nearly doubling after multiple revisions/additions. I'd also like to take a minute to give a little shout-out to ServusSmith, for his correspondence and invaluable help in bettering this modest little project. Couldn't have done it without you man. And to the rest of you, read, review, and most of all enjoy
No comments posted
No reviews posted