Shauna X Garbodor

The Professor had told her. Shauna was warned to keep away from the Garbodor enclosure, but for the life — and purity — of her, she couldn’t resist. The buoyant, naïve little thing only saw imprisonment.

‘It’s unfair to keep a Pokémon locked up’, she thought, the nobility and liberal-mindedness of youth overwhelming her conscience.

'It’s wrong!’

The deformed, putrid Rubbish Heap was pressed up against all sides of the glassy cylinder, its squalid surface smearing grease and filth against the surfaces. For a moment she was grateful she didn’t have to breathe its air, but the valiant heart of the justice warrior returned, just glimpsing into its sad eyes.

Forlorn. Lonely.

At least, that’s only what she thought.

Innocence does that to people. It makes them prey.

Especially, Shauna discovered to her immediate horror, for things that have been sealed up for their protection, and for the protection of humanity. It was self-righteousness that lured her hand towards the escape key, it was self-righteousness that shifted away the glass panels, and…

Innocence made her its prey.

She was disgusted, even horrified at first; the Garbodor which had pressed its malformed appendage of crumpled food cans, slushy waste compacted inside a gooey shell of plastic sacs against the glass, pleading, reasoning with her.

Guilting her. The innocent little flower that she was.

It was in heat. A male of its species, larger, intimidating, frenzied.

It was only when the Garbodor slithered free, trailing an effluvium of toxic residue behind it, that Shauna realised the errors of her judgment. She reached for a Pokéball to subdue it, but there was nothing she could do. Its infected, gruesome claw embroiled her in its septic vice and lifted her, inspecting and examining her. She squirmed when it fished around her, its pulpy, sludgy growths sullying her cute, pink top and oozing around her deliciously tanned thighs. It was probing for a source of heat, to mate.
She felt so fucking filthy. Well, she was. Especially when the hideous mass of refuse, crawling with flies and depravity, violently twisted away her top. Her tender, perky breasts became smothered and dirtied by the grimy creature’s excessive groping, spreading its smut across her tits, her slender stomach, turning her into a stinking, screaming collection of juicy holes. She struggled in vain; every thrash and every lash out against the humongous fly tip was like striking against the dull, senseless weight of a tire.

It couldn’t detect her fists.

Sickening, fertile tendrils unfurled from its mass. Two roped around her thighs, prying them apart; she wailed, “no, no, don’t; stop…!”

Stupid, naïve Shauna.

What had she gotten herself into?

Her pussy was the untouched, clean sort. She’d always prided herself on appearing primped, fragrant and hygienic. Now she was mussed, reeked of trash and sweat, and dirtied beyond her wildest, unpleasant imagination. The Garbodor peeled open her shorts between Shauna’s frantically kicking, flailing legs with a discarded can opener-turned-finger. The smooth, luscious skin sweet and treacle in complexion, sloped together into a sumptuous, pink slit.

The slimy, protrusive length of a third curved organ, this time resembling the sexual dimorphism of a human male, shadowed her quivering cunt. It was a phenomenal, impressive size and a girth that would stretch Shauna to her limits. It was a disfigurement more than a penis, inflated and thick with God-knew-what, completely black in pigment, and crawled across her clit in a shiver of unwanted pleasure. When its base pressed up against her, Shauna cringed, desperate for it to lose interest; the length must have been past her navel. She would have seen it, but its drooping, soggy arms weighed down onto her profaned, molested chest, twisting and manipulating her nipples.

She only felt it.

She felt it retreat away, but the glimmer of hope was replaced by a crying, frightful moan as it sank itself inside her gaping folds. Its only resistance was how tight the virgin was; it squeezed and pushed, the near-liquid viscosity of its girth filling each and every inch of her as she writhed and wept from the nauseating redolence flowing from its flesh. It sloshed and smacked inside her again and again, frantically fucking and mating with her obscene, spread hole.
Her spine stiffened from nerves and dread, her mind clouded with a guilty mixture of awe upon its size, and a very real sense of revulsion and danger.

It stiffened, then relaxed.

She slumped back into the rest of its sewage-glutted tentacles, lifted partially from the floor as a limp, helpless womb for the Garbodor to stir up and impregnate. Her pleas turned to gags in her mouth. Her body became a vessel of defilement, of pollution and scum; an unholy, dripping cavern of foul seed.

Every muscle in her body seemed to slacken and lax beneath the intense pressure of its bulbous, erect member pushing, thrusting and beating against her supple walls. She was so fucking tight even a human cock would have had difficulty intruding as far as the garbage heap was now, but it was possessed, and its mating frenzy had transformed it into an insatiable monster. It pounded and abused, screwing the goddamn mind out of the delirious girl.

When the lab assistants found her, she was spread-legged, drooling, her eyelids sagged and hazy with a bewitched, mentally-broken aura to her gaze.

A weak, dreamy smile released incoherent, murmuring encouragement.

Her diminutive belly was swollen, pregnant with the outline of a massive, ridged head. Her bruised, waste-slathered pussy was wet with cloying, warm juices of unknown origin. The Garbodor’s thick, sloppy cum smattered over the teen’s quaking thighs, her bouncy, shiny tits were lubricated in a mixture of its splattered, sticky essence and its malodorous touch. A dirty, milky residue creamed inside and around her spasming, slick cunt until only enslaved, half-conscious whimpers to fill her more mumbled out of her salivating lips.

Well, Shauna — did you learn your lesson?