The cord around Zeiya’s neck chafed, and the Linoone couldn’t help but toss her head this way and that in a fruitless attempt to dislodge it. “What’s the big deal?” she said. “It was just a TM or two. Really, who gives a fuck?” She smirked. “Oh, wait, this is Stormroot Town, the dingiest backwater on the continent. Everyone knows you guys are running out of pokemon to live here.” She eyed the pokemon holding her leash, a stern-looking Cinderace, with smugness. “So how long do you think before Stormroot becomes a ghost town? A generation? Sooner?”

The Cinderace—the town leader—just narrowed his eyes, but his companion, a Weavile, snarled at her. “This bitch has got a real fucking mouth on her,” he said.

“You know it, big boy,” Zeiya said acidly, still shaking her head in a fruitless attempt to throw off the cord. “If I’d known your town was packed full of jackasses, well, I would have stolen way more! And you’re never getting those TMs back. Oh, boo-hoo! Everyone shed a tear for the poor rubes of Stormroot!”

She laughed at the terse grimaces on their face even as the Cinderace yanked her along with more force than necessary. They rounded the corner to the place of her punishment.

“The stocks?” Zeiya said, derision in her voice. “That’s your big punishment? Oh, I’m soooooooo fucking scared! I gotta sit still for a few days while people make fun of me. Oh, woe is me!”

She continued mocking them even as they threw open the stocks. “Get in there, thief,” the Cinderace growled, shoving her inside. Zeiya tried scratching him with one of her digging claws as he shut and locked the stocks around her, but to no avail.

The stocks occupied a space at the edge of the town square, where any pokemon passing could get a good look at her. Stormroot wasn’t all that big, though, so Zeiya didn’t think she’d get too many gawkers.

She wriggled her paws experimentally. The stocks were well-made, the holes just spacious enough for her lower forearms but too slender for her wrists to go through. It was much the same story for her head.

“Yeah, I feel so scared,” she said, still eying the two pokemon. “Couple-a days in the stocks, whatever. Let your townsfolk come and mock me. I can handle it.”

The Cinderace exchanged a glance with the Weavile and then nodded. “Get the sign.” His companion walked over to a small wooden sign that had been laying face down in the dirt, pulling it up.

“You can handle it, huh?” the Weavile said. “You sure about that, you thieving narcissistic dunce?” He spun the sign and—

And Zeiya’s heart was suddenly wrapped in a pearl of ice. There, in plain, blocky letters, the sign read: FOR PUBLIC USE.

“Wh—” Zeiya said, reduced to an incoherent stammer as her measure of the situation suddenly, irrevocably changed. “Wh—you c—”

Any ideas were cut off when the Cinderace walked behind her and grabbed her feet. “Hey!” she protested uselessly as he locked her feet in with straps, keeping her legs in a position that—oh. Oh no. A position that left her pussy almost completely exposed.

“Hey!” she repeated fiercely, trying to turn her head to shout him down—but, of course, she was stuck in the stocks. “Back the fuck up, jackass!” She dropped her tail to cover her cunt, but the Cinderace simply grabbed it and arched it up, keeping it clasped in a holder on the top part of the stocks, right over her head. Zeiya winced—her tail was bending too far, it hurt!

“You can’t—do this!” she said.

“Still talking, huh?” the Weavile drawled. He slowly meandered around the stocks—Zeiya’s heart started hammering away a mile a minute as she lost sight of his grinning face. Maybe she should have been more cautious about a place willing to have a Dark-type as a deputy. “Let’s see if you can keep it up!”

Zeiya gasped as she felt his clawed hands grasping either side of her hips—and then she howled as she felt him roughly force his way inside without any hint of foreplay or easing in. “NO!” she screamed. She wanted to fight back, to race off, to break free—! But she was trapped in the stocks and could only wriggle back and forth in vain. “Get out of me!”

“Make me, bitch” the Weavile snarled, and then he started fucking her full-force right there in front of the town square.

Zeiya half-screamed, half-grunted at each rough intrusion, the Weavile going at her with a regular and ruthless tempo that didn’t give her any time to prepare. Hell, even deriving plain old enjoyment from this was going to be hard, because…

“It hurts!” she wailed. “It—augh, nnnngh, f-fuck¸ it hurts!” She cast her eyes at the Cinderace, still standing there with his arms crossed in front of him. “Make him stop, please!” The deputy thrust into her especially deep and she wailed again. “Please!”

“You sure do love your own voice, don’t you,” the Cinderace said, his words edged with contempt. “You were singing a different tune just a while ago.” He pulled out a device—she recognized it, her heart sinking, as a metal gag that would force her mouth open without letting her speak or bite down.

She knew what he was going to use it for.

“No!” she said, shaking her head to try and stop him from putting it into her. It was hard to do while she was still being rutted from behind by the Weavile. “You can’t do—mmmnghfh!”

He’d forced the gag into her. Zeiya shook her head in a pointless attempt to dislodge it until the Cinderace grabbed either side of her head. She felt the temperature rising where his paws met her skin and started crying from the pain as his Fire-type heat threatened to sear her.

“Now be a good little bitch,” he growled, “and take it.”

Zeiya almost gagged as he forced his cock in. Instinct told her to shut her mouth around it, to bite the bastard, but all she did was hurt herself against the metal gag. Neither the Weavile nor the Cinderace made any attempt to coordinate their thrusts as they spitroasted her, and the result was a maddening double tempo of pushes and thrusts as Zeiya was forced to endure having two foreign cocks in her body.

Before long, she felt the Weavile tense up inside of her. Not inside me, she thought desperately. Not inside! We’re in the same egg group! She tried to protest, but it came out incoherent, and the Dark-type just tightened his thick claws on her rump, squeezing so tight she thought it might leave blisters. She closed her eyes against the pain.

“Just shut up and take it, would you?” he growled before hammering her with a particularly ruthless thrust. Zeiya shook and sobbed, choking around the Cinderace’s cock, as the Weavile pumped her womb full of his seed. He held in her for another minute or so, panting, and then slid out without warning, the sudden emptiness making her shake. Despite how rough it had been, traitorous aftershocks of pleasure were cascading from her pussy out into the rest of her body.

When she opened her eyes, the formerly vacant square of Stormroot Town had filled up with onlookers. Zeiya tried to get their attention, but her desperation morphed to humiliation as she realized none of the townsfolk were going to help her. Instead, they were all watching her getting her face fucked by their leader and taking in the sight of her abused cunt dripping cum down between her legs.

She was a public sex toy and everyone saw.

Cinderace grunted, surging forward in her mouth, deepthroating himself in her—and Zeiya was left gagging as her throat involuntarily tightened around his cock, massaging it as he spurted warm cum down her gullet. She was forced to swallow it and shuddered in self-loathing as she felt its warm and creamy weight settle down into her tummy.

When the Cinderace pulled out, the Linoone coughed a few ragged times, her whole mouth still tasting of cock and cum. The Cinderace left the gag in her, leaving her unable to coherently speak and forcing her to pant for breath, and she panicked as he pulled something else out—a thick black sleeping mask that completely covered her eyes and left her unable to see anything at all.

“Welcome to your sentence,” he said.

---

When Zeiya awoke the following morning—she assumed it was morning because of her sleep cycle and the way her fur felt warm, though the mask still left her unable to see—it was to a sudden, unwanted intrusion.

A pokemon was enjoying himself in her pussy.

She squirmed, wriggled, shrieked, and hollered uselessly as the strange pokemon rutted himself in her. She didn’t think it was either of the two from yesterday—his cock was slender and his pace different. He finished in her and wandered off laughing.

The whole time she never had any idea what the pokemon had even been.

Not long after, another pokemon came to give her breakfast—she meekly swallowed the tart herbs he pushed on her after he threatened to make her. Then, after, the pokemon had walked around to her backside, he’d fucked her as well.

“Niiiiiiiiiice,” he’d grunted, cumming inside of her. “‘Bout time the village got someone like you. Been getting all pent up.” He’d patted her rump. “See you again soon, girl.” As he walked away, Zeiya prayed that this would be the last time she would have to endure such degradation.

In fact, she needn’t have bothered.

Just a few minutes after, another pokemon had arrived, fucking her pussy so thoroughly and so smoothly that she’d found herself cumming despite herself; he’d mocked her for it, leaving her embarrassed, cheeks burning.

The pokemon after that had preferred her mouth to her cunt, and the one after that had teased her orally, torturing her with sensations of wet tongues on her soft folds, dancing the tip of his tongue around her clit.

After that was another pokemon who preferred a good old-fashioned rutting, once again bringing her to shameful orgasm. By now, she could hear the townsfolk in the square going about their day. More than a few tittered at what was happening or laughed under their breaths; she could just imagine the pokemon pointing at her, the captive getting plowed in full view of everyone. But she was still unable to see anything, trapped in a dark world where sound and touch were her only sensations, a place where she might be made to take a stranger’s cock at any moment.

The next was a twofer, another spitroast like yesterday; from the similarity between the cocks’ shape, as well as the voices of her tormentors, she assumed it was a pair of brothers. Not long after them, she shuddered at an unfamiliar touch on her hide: scales.

“Look at you,” came a smooth and mocking voice. “Just look at this sopping cunt.” It was true: Zeiya was fucked so thoroughly that she could still feel juices shuddering out of her. He slid into her without warning and she moaned behind her gag.

“You’re pretty loose,” he said. “You’re a real fucking slut, aren’t you?”

Zeiya wanted to protest, to say that she’d had sex more times today than she’d had in her entire life before then. But the gag prevented her, and a thick buck from the pokemon in her banished any other thoughts. “You’re a real mess,” he noted. “Did you know that someone brought out a chalk plate here for pokemon to tally up when they’ve enjoyed you? I’m the ninth so far today,” he purred, “and it’s not even lunchtime. You’ve got a real fun day ahead of you, girl.” He rutted her so hard that she shook—she heard a slight sloshing sound as all the cum in her jostled around.

“Well, more than a real fun day,” he said, his voice smooth and mocking. “More like a real fun ]life. Did you think we’d ever let you go?” Zeiya sobbed in inarticulate, wordless protest against him. She shook her head. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true!

“Believe it, slut,” he said, leaning down so that his mouth was near to her ear. She felt every whispering word crawling up her neck. “You fucked up colossally, and this is your reward.” He fucked her so hard, so deep, that she yelped. “A whole lifetime of this.”

Reaching up, he yanked the mask off Zeiya’s eyes. She whined at the way the sudden brightness made her eyes lance with brief but thorough pain—but as her vision cleared, she saw Stormroot Square. Pokemon were milling about, going about their daily business, but more than a few were glancing at her. Some were watching with smug looks; others rolled their eyes, and a few mouthed words like slut or whore when they saw she was watching.

The pokemon fucking her picked up his pace and Zeiya responded despite herself, her voice keening high in time with his pushes and thrusts. The resultant sounds drew even more attention to her, making the Stormroot pokemon jeer and mock. Some of them cheered on the pokemon who was forcing himself on her. He finished inside her and, bending over, mocked her one last time: “Bet every pokemon here with a cock is gonna have fun with you at one time or another.” He left after that, and she finally realized what kind of pokemon he was: a Servine.

He’s lying, the Linoone thought desperately. I’m gonna get out of here!

But Servine had only gone a few steps before a Sandslash stepped up, his small yet ridge-lined cock ready at attention. As he picked up the chalk to pre-emptively add another tally to the count, Zeiya’s heart sunk.

This… this was what was in store for her. Forever. And the sobs wracking out of her had nothing to do with the Sandslash being her roughest lover yet.

---

Just as the Servine had predicted, Zeiya wasn’t let go. She was kept in the stocks, day after day and week after week, as the pokemon of Stormroot made her body into their personal sex toy. She had stopped resisting. All she had to do was sit there passively as they fucked her and gulp down the food they gave her (at least one meal a day was those disgustingly tart herbs!) and that was that.

Or so she thought.

She woke up one morning, still trapped in the stocks as always, with a weird, nauseous feeling in her stomach. It had been persistent the last few days, and what’s worse, her tummy was a bit thicker than usual. As she rose (as best she could) this morning, she noted that it seemed to be hanging just a little bit lower—

And the truth struck Zeiya like a thunderclap. Her fear from when the Weavile came in her had come to pass.

She was pregnant.

The thought horrified her. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. She didn’t want to be a mother! She didn’t want to bear the children of this town!

But Stormroot is poor and underpopulated, she realized. They don’t want extra mouths to feed! Maybe—maybe I can use this to get out!

That evening, the town leader—the Cinderace—was the one who was bringing Zeiya her dinner. When he removed the gag to give her the tart herbs, she forced the words out fast before he could cut them off: “I’m pregnant, I have a belly full of eggs.”

The leader blinked and bent over to look at her belly. He whistled. Zeiya had no idea how big she looked, but if it was big enough this early on to be visible, she had to have multiple ones in there.

Just my luck to have multiples, she thought, but that will make it easier to convince them!

“Let me go,” she pleaded. “I won’t bother you with the offspring or make you feed them. I’ll take care of them on my own. I’ll raise them good. Y-you don’t want them to be mine. I’m just a—a thief and a harlot and a whore and a s-stupid slut. So please. Please let me go!”

The Cinderace looked at Zeiya’s belly, then at her face, then back at her belly, and finally at her face one last time.

“You really don’t get it, do you,” he said. “You think we didn’t plan this?”

The words hit her like a tidal wave. “You—h-huh?”

“Don’t you remember what you said the day we put you in here?” he said. “That Stormroot is running out of pokemon? Well, you’re our solution.” He held up the basket of tart herbs. “You think it’s an accident that your first pregnancy resulted in multiple eggs? These are fertility herbs.”

A cold claw grasped Zeiya’s heart. “No,” she realized.

“Oh yes,” the Cinderace said, smugly. “You’re going to give us lots of eggs, and then we’re going to take those eggs and hatch them and raise them as our own children. This,” and he leaned in to rub his paw along the curve of her belly, “is only the first. You’re going to bear so many of our children.” Zeiya winced from stimulation as his digits brushed over the teats buried in her fur. They were already puffy and tender.

“You can’t,” she choked out as he withdrew his paw. “You can’t do this, I don’t want to be a mother!”

“You? A mother?” he scoffed. “As if. You’d only be a ‘mother’ in the most technical sense. You’re not going to raise those kids—a thieving, whiny, entitled bitch like you, entrusted with childrearing? Come on, now. They’ll consider the matriarch of whatever family we give them to as their mother, not you. At best, they’ll see you as we do—nothing more than a convenient source of extra pokemon to help the village grow. Our own personal little egg factory.”

As Zeiya listened to his words, his form got mistier and more distinct—she was tearing up with desperation. By the time he finished, she was full-on sobbing. “Please,” she hiccupped through it. She saw his indistinct shape reaching to put the mask over her eyes. “Please, no more!”

He put the mask on, blinding her again; the gag followed, although she hadn’t eaten yet.

She heard the smugness in his voice. “Now that you’re already pregnant, these greens are useless. I think I want you to swallow something else tonight.”

And she did, the tears rolling out from under the mask and down her cheeks.

---

“Look at how big her belly is, mommy!”

“Don’t look at her, sweetheart. She’s dirty.”

Still gagged and masked, Zeiya rolled at the sound. In many ways, being left alone, blinded and gagged for hours or days at a time was worse than when they forced themselves on her. She thought she could hear the little pokemon being led away by her mother. She wondered what species it might have been; Cyndaquil? Eevee?

The realization that just a few months from now it would be little Zigzagoon being led about and told to ignore her was something she was trying to avoid facing.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, the males of the village had stopped paying her attention lately. Maybe they were busy, maybe they just didn’t want to damage the goods—she didn’t know. Normally, Zeiya wouldn’t have minded, except that her pregnancy was making her super horny—and she literally had nothing to else to do to pass the time in these stocks, and what was worse, she had spent… how many days, now, without light?

She’d sworn to herself not to act on her impulses, that this was one line she absolutely wouldn’t cross; but today was worse than usual, and she finally broke down. As she heard the heavy steps and rumbling voices of passing males, Zeiya grunted to get their attention and then wiggled her hips, cognizant of how her big belly must have looked while shaking.

“Damn, look at that,” said a passing voice. She recognized it as a pokemon who was one of her most reliable ‘customers’—a Donphan. “The breeding bitch still isn’t satiated. You hungry for cock, bitch?”

Zeiya could only groan in response, and then winced as he yanked the mask off. Even the pale grey light of the day was painful given how long she’d been masked. As her vision slowly normalized, she saw that behind the Donphan, a number of passing pokemon were judging her, many of them wearing looks that screamed I knew it.

The way they eyed her was humiliating, but not enough to stop Zeiya from wiggling her hips again, desperate, and the Donphan laughed. “Yeah, I can make time for you,” he said, trundling around to her sopping cunt. As he mounted her, she grunted as she took his weight, and trembled with bliss as his cock sunk into her hungry, horny muff.

To think she had been reduced to this… once a smart-talking, roguish thief who delighted in scamming pokemon for their goods, she was now a borderline sessile, fat-bellied breeding bitch, useful only for pumping out eggs and slaking the animalistic needs of Stormroot’s citizens.

But don’t act all high and mighty, she spat at herself amidst her blissful haze of getting pounded. She could only imagine how she looked to pokemon passing by, imprisoned and knocked up, yet with an openly blissful look of need on her face as she was taken. You have your own animalistic needs, don’t you?

“You know,” grunted the Donphan as he rutted her, “I wonder if any of those are mine.” Zeiya didn’t bother responding. “Ah well,” he mused, “if they aren’t, I suppose this isn’t exactly my last chance, hmmm?”

He was right, of course. He was right.

They were going to breed her for as long as they could.

---

The day finally came, and Zeiya was so pregnant she could barely walk—but they made her do it anyway.

“Come on,” Cinderace growled, a cord wrapped around her neck just as before. She stepped along on toddling feet. Walking was immensely difficult—not just because of her newfound weight, but also because of how long she’d spent in the stocks. Every step was like relearning how to move.

The town leader led the gravid Linoone to a hut at the edge of town where an Indeedee was waiting. “We had to get him here from another village,” he told her. “Thankfully, we promised payment.”

“What… are you… paying…” Zeiya said, forcing each word out between breaths. The Cinderace just smirked in the direction of her much-abused cunt, and resignation weighed down her soul. Of course.

The Indeedee was firm and insistent, caring more about the eggs than about the comfort of the pokemon laying them. Her laying was long and miserable, and every time an egg came out, Cinderace cleaned it off and picked it up to deliver it to the family who would raise her offspring.

“Please…” she called after him as he was about to leave. “Just let me cradle them… at least once…”

He shot her a look of purest contempt and walked out without a word, leaving her to sob alone with the Indeedee.

Eventually, all her eggs were laid—seven total, a number that impressed the doctor. “She’s quite fertile,” he said, telling the Cinderace without regards to Zeiya. It was like she wasn’t even there. “Those herbs are going to keep her pumping out eggs for as long as you keep breeding her. I see a very productive future for her.” The doctor smiled and rubbed his hands together. “And speaking of breeding…”

Cinderace nodded at her. “Go right ahead.”

“Wait…” Zeiya forced out, so weary from laying her eggs that she could barely fight to stay awake, must less shut her legs to this pokemon. He parted them with as much effort as a Taillow plucking a berry. “I just… gave birth…” She shook. She was as miserable as any pokemon had ever been. “Let me… rest… please…”

The Indeedee shot a look at Cinderace. “You weren’t lying,” he said contemptuously. “She really doesn’t know when to shut up, does she?”

And then he pushed his cock into her raw pussy.

The sensation was unreal; laying the eggs had left her so worn, so ragged, that despite his modest equipment, it was one of the most painful fuckings she had ever endured. Zeiya was left to lay there, choking on overstimulation, as the Indeedee plundered her pussy as Cinderace looked on.

She could already imagine what the future had in store for her. They would drag her back to the stocks. Lock her up. Add the fertility herbs to her diet again. And day in and day out… more and more and more breeding. She’d take so many cocks. She’d swell up with eggs, deliver them, never even get a chance to cradle her own young, and then they’d do it all over again. And again.

And again.

“Hah… hhah…” she forced out, her breath ragged. This wasn’t the future she wanted. But it was the one she was going to get.

As the doctor continued fucking her, and pokemon throughout Stormroot Town collected her children to raise as their own and repopulate the town, Zeiya realized that for her, this really was the end of her story.

And she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.