AGNPH Stories
 

In a League of Their Own by Felinix

 

Story Notes:

Standard Disclaimer: I own the character Jack as well as the plot of this story, Pokemon and other known characters are their respective owners. This story contains sexually explicit content. Go away if you're offended or too young to read such revolting literature.


"Aside" Chapter 1

Time means very little inside a Pokeball. Floating in suspended animation with nothing but your thoughts can be an enlightening experience for one that's used to it.

For Buneary, it was disconcerting.

She had just been caught in the wild. She was minding her own business having found some perfectly ripened berries when a trainer (she hadn't got a good look at his face) burst through some tall grass and pummeled her with a fierce wave of attacks from his Mawile. Buneary had been so scared she didn't even fight back. When it was all over the trainer used one of his Pokeballs and scooped her right out of the wild, only meters from her family's den.

She wasn't sure where she was but knew she didn't want to be there.

When she finally saw sunlight (or light at least) once again, it was on a routine visit to a Pokemon Center. She could feel warmth emanate through her tiny body for a moment and suddenly felt revitalized. Her trainer, whom she noted looked good enough didn't even smile when he sent her back into the Pokeball.

It had in fact been days before her first actual battle, but when it happened she was so grossly outmatched against another trainer's Hitmonlee that she was swiftly defeated, costing her trainer the battle, which he then forever blamed her for.

She never saw battle again.

What she did see surprised her nonetheless. When she had rematerialized she was standing in the middle of a small room, her trainer in a chair off to the side. She was beckoned over and obeyed like a good little Pokemon, only to find her trainer naked waist down and stroking himself with increasing gusto.

She didn't know this but she was in his room at home, a pouch containing two badges was on the nightstand. After her trainer's embarrassing battle with her, his career had gone downhill very quickly. He hadn't had the wherewithal to pick himself out of his rut and had become frustrated, eventually quitting the league altogether. '
But he hadn't called Buneary out to scold her.

He positioned her in front of his chair and ordered her to close her eyes and keep her mouth open. She did like she was asked and was, minutes later, rewarded with a foul tasting sticky substance all over her face and mouth. He told her to swallow, and she couldn't refuse.

This happened more and more frequently until she eventually got used to the taste and would be allowed to keep her eyes open. She would drink it willingly and then her trainer touched her. But she didn't like how he touched her. His hands were rough, course, and unpleasing, sometimes even coated with sweat or a small amount of his semen, which he would then smear into her fur. His touches didn't please her only force her.

He would hold her head in front of his shaft and pinch her cheeks open forcing himself into her gullet, making her gag and choke and cough. She grew to accept this treatment, even when he would hurt her throat and mouth. But once she began to accept it, she would feel herself become wet between her legs at the thought and after months of the treatment forgot that she didn't like the taste and soon grew eager to bring her master, because that is what he had become, to orgasm. He didn't have to hold her down to perform her duty and she became increasingly skilled.

But it wasn't enough for him.

One night she was called out and approached her master in a sultry fashion before she was snatched up off the floor and held above a raging hard-on, eager to be pleased. She motioned to grab it and dragged her tongue across her lips, waiting for him to let her get to work, but he wouldn't have her. He held her by the sides and she watched with a growing fear as her master smirked. To that day he had never said more than a few words to her but what he said then sent a wave of frightened chills up her spine.

"For all you cost me, bitch, I'm going to take it out of your body."

Her legs shook with fear and she tensed up, but he was quick to grab both legs and pry them open, stretching farther than they ever had before and causing her a great deal of pain.

Then it came. Without and hesitation, gentleness, or compassion he forced himself as deep into her pussy as he could. She felt everything and her loins rang with such immense pain that she screamed and cried. Then he grabbed her around her body and pulled her up and pushed back down again. She didn't even get a chance to feel pleasure before she felt his hot seed pulse into her. When he pulled out he wiped himself off under her arm and left her alone. Then she felt a tingling sensation in her body and began to evolve.

Every part of her mind screamed in defiance, wishing to rob him of the satisfaction of seeing what would be her new beautiful body, but at that point she was too weak to resist. She evolved on his lap, her breasts and her waist and her hips now full and voluptuous. He ogled her with lecherous eyes and then took her another three times before sending her back into her Pokeball and heading off to sleep.

This process repeated itself daily and daily she was left both sore and violated. She was helpless beneath him and every time he fucked her raw her hatred of him grew and grew. Still she had to plan an escape.

Unlike her time pleasing her master with her mouth, she never grew to enjoy the sex. She would be raped repeatedly every day! What she did develop however was a need for it. After weeks of abuse she had begun to force herself to wetness before he entered her, but when she did she also developed a craving for sex, any sex, even if she needed to be raped to fill that desire. That yearned almost took her over, but her hatred had finally boiled over and she had grown sick of the abuse.

When she had been sent back into her ball for the night she began to concentrate. After all, the only thing in motion in suspended animation is the mind. She broke free of her prison and rematerialized in her master's room. She looked at him sleeping with contempt and for a moment contemplated taking his commemorative sword hanging on his wall and driving it through his still beating heart to watch him as his lifeblood poured freely from his chest. But she couldn't bring herself to do it and she picked up her Pokeball and ran. Out of the house in any direction as long as it made the distance between her and her previous owner greater.

Finally she stopped in a rocky clearing in the forest, panting, exhausted, and fighting for breath. Tears were streaming down her face, partly of exhilaration and partly of joy. She had escaped. How the only thing left to do was destroy the last shred of her captivity. She found a heavy rock and brought it up above her head, taking one last look at the symbol of her slavery to a wicked and cruel man and brought the rock down hard, shattering the ball. She could feel the mental urge in her body to obey ebbing away and was left with nothing.

Then she wept.

A few days later she came to a hot spring in the middle of the forest and heard giggling and chirping a short distance away. She peered through the bushes and saw a trainer and his Torchic Pokemon enjoying themselves together.

She thought then, "That's the trainer I want."



"And the rest is history," said Laura, stroking the baby head of the Riolu sitting between her legs and staring up at her.

Sasha had been moved to tears and hugged Laura around the shoulders.

"I had no idea. I'm so sorry," she said.

Even the Eevee shared in the condolences.

When Sasha left Laura's shoulders Jack hugged her from behind. His arms wrapped around her neck and chest and pulled her into him. She smiled at the touch and knew more than ever that she had made the right choice to be with him.
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