Chapter 16 - Trial MVP: Pangoro

Current Party: 
Zip the Magnezone. Trill the Golisopod. Queen the Salazzle. Continent the Mudsdale. Bahamut the Shelgon. Po the Pangoro

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“This is a betrayal of the legacy of lazy Sundays,” Abby protested as Po shoved her, the Pokemon using a single hand to propel her along despite her complaints. “Lazy Sundays are practically sacred, Po. This is unacceptable!”

“Pangoro,” the big Pokemon grunted and then shoved his trainer again, pushing her through the branches and underbrush toward the small pond near their campsite. 

The rest of Abby’s team was lazing around the site, enjoying the sun and the breeze and a day of lazily passing the time until lunch. It was a tradition the trainer had instituted early in her career, her Pokemon deserved a day off, and so did she. A day without training or battles, where rather than continue her journey she just set up camp and let everyone catch their breath. From Saturday night, the moment she pitched the tent, to Monday morning, was Lazy Sunday. It was a tradition. It was sacred!

And because it was Lazy Sunday, not a single one of her Pokemon made a move to stop Po from pushing her out of camp. 

Finally, Po let up, the two of them standing together on the grassy bank of the pond, the water crystal clear and beautiful. Abby glared up at him, hands crossed under her ample breasts, pouting sulkily as the Pangoro let out a growl of laughter. She knew exactly what he wanted - she was dumb, not stupid, and the way Po had practically torn her clothes off before shoving her out of the campsite told her everything she needed to know. And while she wasn’t averse to a little fun on Lazy Sunday, she knew nothing Po did could be remotely referred to as ‘lazy’.

“You want to go for a swim?” Abby tried, her voice hopeful but defeated. Po shook his head, showing teeth as he smiled. 

“Pangoro,” he rumbled, nodding toward the grass. His expression made his point perfectly clear - either she could lay down like a good girl, or he could make her. 

Flushed, somewhere between angry and turned on, Abby laid down on the grass, soft blades tickling her back as Po dropped to his knees, taking her calves in his huge hands and slowly began to lift them. Up and up until her toes were pointed toward the sky, and then he began to press them down, folding the Trainer in on herself. There was only one kind of flexibility that mattered to Po, and it was the kind that let him fold his trainer up like a pretzel and fuck her like a toy. 

“Nnnngh, careful,” Abby grunted as Po continued to press forward. Not that he was using his full weight or strength, he wasn’t going to hurt his trainer like that - he only hurt her in the ways she wanted to be hurt. But he was keeping up the slow, steady pressure. Stretching out her muscles even as they gently burned in protest. 

“Pan?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Just…. Hurts a little bit.”

Po nodded, gave her a few moments, and then started pushing again. This was far from their first stretching session, and he knew how far she could go without getting hurt. Oh, yes, Po knew perfectly well just how much she could take. Back and back her legs went, until her knees were pushing into her soft breasts, ankles up by her ears. But more than that, it lifted her whole pelvis, tilting her hips so her plump mound was offered right up to Po, already dotted with spots of her arousal. The barest hint of pink peeking out between the soft, thick lips.

“Pangoro.”

Obediently, she reached up, grabbing her own legs and holding them in place as Po rose, shifting position to bring his cock slapping down on her belly. Thicker than her wrist it lay heavy on her suddenly fluttering stomach. The dusty black length rising up, the foreskin-shrouded pink head just peeking out at her as Po gave his hips a slow and lazy roll. He ground himself along her stomach, the slow friction peeling back his foreskin just enough to let pre come bubbling out and leave a trail along her dark skin. It was all almost relaxing, in its own way. The heat of the sun, the pleasant, almost easy burn of her stretch, the warmth of her partner. 

But it couldn’t last, not as Po pushed himself up, dragging his fat fuckstick into position. Letting it prod and tease her soft lips. He was slow, at least at first, understanding that his trainer needed to warm up and go slow before the real stretching could start. His elbows sunk into the soft grass on either side of Abby as the big Pokemon supported himself, letting his hips come down in an almost gentle, careful motion. But no amount of gentleness could hide the power behind those hips, the sheer weight of him was enough to make every move a potential knockout. His heavy gut pressed down on her stomach, pinning her to the ground as he continued forward. He didn’t stop until the head of his cock was rammed against her cervix, his balls resting on her upturned ass. 

Like a gentleman he held himself still, the only motion the slight twitch of his cock as his heartbeat, letting Abby get used to him. Getting comfortable until the slight stretch of him was a pleasant, lip-biting burn that had her shifting beneath him. Giving a nod, the hefty Pokemon had permission. Dragging himself free of her clinging cunt, hips pulling up and back, his whole weight seeming to balance on his head for a moment, that shrouded mushroom tip just barely left inside her hot little tunnel. And then he was dropping, ramming himself home in a single motion that made Abby’s whole body bounce, her brain rattling as the impact set fireworks off behind her eyes, her toes curling as she moaned happily.

“F-fucking breed me,” Abby groaned before she could stop herself, the words slipping out of her lips before her brain even realized what she was saying. 

It was the position, that was it. It was called a fucking mating press, it wasn’t her fault her brain had short-circuited under the assault of dick. She hadn’t meant it, obviously, just… it had slipped out. Too much porn when she was young had worked the phrase into her head and Po’s brutal, deep thrusts had jarred it loose. Flushing, she tried to hide her face as her partner looked down at her, surprise smeared all over his face - only for it to slowly melt into an arrogant, delighted smile. 

“Pan. Pangoro,” he growled, forcing Abby to look at him. His sharp teeth gleaming as he grinned down at her, looking happier than she’d probably ever seen him before. “Paaaaaang.”

“K-knock me up,” Abby whispered, her face burning hot, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear. “Knock… knock your stupid, slutty trainer up.”

She felt his cock twitch at her words, jerking inside her clenching tunnel and splattering her bruised cervix with a fresh wash of warm, sticky pre. She felt the rumble of approval in his chest, shaking her bones as he pressed down harder against her, his weight sinking her into the soft grass and dirt, his hips churning up her tunnel, smearing his seed across her soft pink walls. 

“Pan,” he snarled at her, teeth inches from his face. Demanding she repeat herself.

“Breed… breed me.”

His hips plowed into her so hard that he had to be bruising her, she was sure, his cockhead ramming against her cervix, punishing the stubborn barrier with each brushing thrust. He was putting his full strength into it, fucking her like he never had before. Her words had lit a fire in him, and he was delighting in taking her up on her offer, impossible as it may have been.

“Pan!” 

“F-fuck me full! Give… give me an egg!”

Po’s hips were nearly a blur, lifting and dropping in hard, hammerblow breeding thrusts that made Abby see stars, her eyes rolling as she whimpered and squirmed. Each heavy thrust slammed into her cervix, making her gasp out a hiccupping little breath, pain leaving her wheezing even as the pleasure washed through her mind, eroding the few pillars of coherent thought she had left. Every thrust made it harder and harder to remember why she should be embarrassed, why she shouldn’t be on her back, begging to be bred. It just felt so good, so right…

“Paaaaaan!”

“Knock me up! Please! F-fuck! Please, just breed me! Do it!”

Abby’s scream nearly tore her throat raw, echoing through the little clearing as Po gave a rumbling growl of assent. He threw his whole weight down on his trainer, stomach pressed against her, burying her in the grass as he snarled, drooling a little as his body tensed, balls pulling up tight against his body even as his cockhead finally succeeded in bullying the slut’s cervix open, just enough to peek into that shy little womb - and fire every rope of cum he had into it. 

His hips worked in humping circles as he came, little thrusts that helped fling his thick ropes just a little deeper. Splattering them against the far wall of her womb, splashing thick globs of cum all across her pink walls. His balls churned, working up more and more cum for the Pangoro to pump into his submissive, squealing little breeding slut. She felt her womb ache, bulging under the pressure as he forced more and more into her. Making that stomach swell in a mockery of her pleas, an ample baby bump already ruining the svelte lines of her figure. 

And Po’s hand wrapped itself in her hair, forcing her to stare at her cumgut, eyes wide as she took in a glimpse of the future her partner wanted. Forcing her to stare as he soaked her womb and stewed her very ovaries in his virile, clinging seed. It wasn’t a possible future, but that didn’t mean Po wasn’t going to spend the next four hours trying his damndest to make it happen. 