The Cruel Fable of the Good Greninja
-a grrside story-
I’m contractually obligated to warn you, anonymous online reader, that the following tale is not a piece of romantic fan fiction based on a certain famous franchise marketed primarily to little children. If you’re expecting some hot Charizard-on-Mewtwo action to happen here, you’d better brace yourself for disappointment.
However, if you’re searching for something much more intellectually-challenging and are delighted at the idea of reading a peculiar fable that coincidentally happens to use some of that franchise’s charismatic characters then please, go ahead and keep reading.
The following story takes place in a picturesque lake colloquially known by its poetic nickname, ‘Route 666-A’. Greninja, our titular hero, was reading fairy tales to the ninety-nine orphan Froakies he had adopted when suddenly the eldest of his sons, Frogadier, jumped towards his father in a hurry.
“Daddy Gre! Daddy Gre! This is terrible!” He cried with tears on his eyes. “Farfetch’d and Spearrow are...FIGHTING!”
The ninety-nine Froakies gasped in horror. They weren’t used to hearing the F-word in the perpetually peaceful Route 666-A.
Greninja ordered his children to hide in the meadow while he took care of the problematic pokémon.
“Daddy Gre isn’t gonna f-f-fight, isn’t he?” Asked one of the younger frogs.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think it’ll come to that.” Answered one of his older brothers. “Daddy never resorts to violence.”
And it was true. You see, this particular Greninja was a pacifist monk. He became skilled in the ninja arts during his training, but he swore he’d never use any attack moves for his personal gain. He didn’t even use them for self-defense, rather preferring his mastery of dialoguing with his enemies until they saw how futile their own violent ways were.
Being a pacifist monk from the Church of Illuminated Pokémon didn’t just meant never resorting to violence, either. He also maintained a firm chastity vow, as in his belief masturbation and procreation had absolutely no use for a humble servant of God. He also wore a tunic at all times, not to remind everyone he was a monk but because as an Illuminated Pokémon he had been taught how shameful was to have your genitals exposed to the public.
When Greninja found Fartech’d and Spearrow thankfully they had barely scratched each other, but they were still spewing out obscenities so Greninja had better act fast.
“Oh... My handsome feathery friends, why are you two wasting so much of your energy at each other?” Greninja said calmly.
“That fatass bird ate my leek!” Said Farfetch’d pointing his wing at Spearrow accusingly.
“I swear it’s not true!” Was Spearrow’s reply. “I didn’t touch that smelly vegetable, you jerk! And I’m not a fat-*BURP*!”
“A-ha! That burp is all the evidence I need! Get ready for the beating of your life, sucker!”
“Oh, but my dear Farfetch’d, a timely burp doesn’t constitute decisive evidence...” Said Greninja closing his eyes and adopting a meditative stance with his body. “...Besides, even if Spearrow was our culprit, would beating him give you your leek back?”
“Well...No it wouldn’t...” Farfetch’d said starting to doubt his own actions. “But still, my leek...He surely took it...It was my  lucky self-defense weapon...”
Greninja twisted his body some more without opening his eyes. “Why do you think your leek was stolen in the first place? Isn’t it much better to presume it missing? It could still be intact, just lost somewhere...”
“What?! It could still be alive and kicking?! And feeling alone without ME?!!! I’ve gotta go search for it!...” The bird was about to leave and look for it, but turned around to look at Spearrow. “I’m so sorry Spearrow! I was so angry about losing my leek that I let my rage control my emotions...!”
“No problem, buddy.” Replied Spearrow. “I know how important your leek is for you. If you want I can help you look for it...”
“No, I’ve already caused you enough trouble, man...”
The Farfetch’d and the Spearrow shaked their wings in a mutual gesture of mutual understanding.
“And thanks to you too, Greninja...Uh?” Farfetch’d looked around, but Greninja had already disappeared. After all, a true servant of God doesn’t need to rejoice himself with people’s gratitude, helping pokémon get along was the reward itself.
After Greninja came back to the meadow and personally kissed every single one of his 100 children on his forehead to wish them sweet dreams like he did nightly he headed to his meditation spot, a small shrine he had built in honor of Arceus, that is, God Himself.
It was a humble shrine, it was constituted mostly by a circle of rocks and a small portrait of Arceus in the center. It had no ceiling whatsoever, but Greninja spent each night there, meditating in the open cold air of the night until dawn.
Greninja had mastered the art of sleep-meditating. It was similar to sleepwalking, except he remained on the same spot, changing his meditating posture now and then during his sleep.
When he closed his eyes, the only way to tell whatever Greninja was meditating or sleep-meditating was to listen to his breathing. When he sleep-meditated you could hear a very faint, sweet snoring sound.
He sat on the ground in front of the portrait of Arceus and smiled. “Today has been a gift from you as well, may your one thousand arms be blessed.” Greninja said with a slight blush. He loved dedicating his humble life to Arceus. Sure, he wasn’t allowed to find a mate, but that was fine, this way it was kind of like being married to Arceus. And sure, the lack of any sort of sexual relief was quite frustrating at times, but he got used to it, masturbation is immoral anyway. And yeah, it was a pain to have a sense of modesty when every other pokémon ran around in the nude, frolicking through the grass as their genitals swayed and flopped, the youngest and more innocent ones comparing penis sizes and making pissing contest in the rivers, the more mature and developed ones enjoying the bodies of their partners and...
Greninja slapped himself. What was he thinking? He was a servant of Arceus, that was the point of his life. He couldn’t let himself to be taken away by carnal desires.
As self-punishment for his unholy thoughts, Greninja made a point to meditate in the most uncomfortable of positions tonight, lest Arceus be pissed.
After three hours of aching limbs, Greninja finally entered his sleep-meditating state. The tall blue frog-like pokémon’s gentle snoring filling the air.
At this point of the story I have ask you, the reader, to ponder about the following existential question: ‘Why does bad stuff happen to good people?’ Unfortunately you may not be able to find the real answer to that question in this particular fable, no matter how hard the titular Good Greninja tried and tried to find a convincing explanation to the terrible misfortune that happened next. Ironically, a certain orange lizard was well aware of the facts that lead to the Good Greninja’s demise but unfortunately he had no way to tell them to our protagonist because he doesn’t even star in this story.
While Greninja sleep-meditated, not far away two large white appendages came down all the way from the sky. One of the sentient arms looked at a dirty and crusty signpost that read the route’s name and slapped the other arm which had been acting quite lazily.
“This is the place, you fool.” Communicated the limb telepathically.
The other limb yawned. “Are you sure? Sigh...I hate night shifts...Is this gonna take too long?”
“Hopefully. A guy carrying a one hundred inch you-know-what around is gotta be noticeable. You brought the measuring tape?”
“No.” Communicated the other limb. “But I can make one.” The limb snapped its fingers and a measuring tape magically appeared from thin air.
The other limb got pissed off. “What did I told you about wasting Lord Arceus’ power like that?”
“But He’s God. You’d figure he’d have unlimited magic.” The dumber limb groaned.
The brightest of the two angelical limbs decided that arguing with this simpleton wasn’t worth its time. They both looked around but at this time of the night there weren’t that many pokémon around, and the ones they did found were too small. Eventually they found Greninja’s shrine.
“What the hell is he doing?” Said the less bright of the limbs.
“Apparently he’s sleeping... Standing up...” Answered the other.
“He must be dumb.”
“That must be true, since you’re an expert on dumbness.”
The limb ignored that comment. “And what’s that thing covering his body? Clothes? Does he seriously believe he’s a human? He has to be nuts!”
“Yeah, he’s quite suspicious. We’d better make sure...”
Greninja was having a wonderful dream where Arceus hugged him tightly. “Oh, lord...” Mumbed Greninja on his sleep. “I’m so happy you finally recognized me as one of your servants...” Greninja was enjoying this dream so much that his tongue was hanging out with an immense amount of drooling.
But then suddenly Greninja felt his tongue being grabbed and stretched.
“Uh? Wha’?!” He woke up startled. What he saw just then was quite the creepy sight. There were two white hands in front of him. One of them was grabbing his tongue and stretching it as much as it could. The other one was... measuring it with a measuring tape? The most frightening part was that both arms seemed to come from the sky. It was as if the arms of God Himself had came down to take him by the tongue.
“One hundred inches of pink flesh.” Communicated the limb to the other, which didn’t need to respond. Both arms looked at each other and nodded, knowing very well what happened next.
“Ah, ah, ah, wha’ are ya’?” Greninja struggled to ask.
The hand grabbing his tongue squeezed the muscle with brute force. The other arm creeped toward Greninja’s eyes like a tentacle about to probe its prey.
“SILENCE YOU SINFUL CREATURE!” A voice louder than thunder came from the arm. “YOU’VE AWOKEN ARCEUS’ IRE, YOU’VE TAKEN HIS GIFT OF LIFE FOR GRANTED AND BLASPHEMED IT IN THE MOST GRUESOME OF WAYS. AS HUMBLE SERVANTS OF ARCEUS, WE’LL RECLAIM YOUR LIFE.”
Greninja’s eyes were wide open. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“BUT AS ARCEUS’ IRE IS SO STRONG AGAINST YOUR VILE EXISTENCE, YOU WON’T BE ACCEPTED IN HIS REALM. INSTEAD, YOU’LL REMAIN ON THE MORTAL REALM, FOREVER SERVING OTHERS IN THE MOST USEFUL OF WAYS.”
Greninja wanted to protest, to scream, to object to such a harsh punishment, but his whole body was frozen in fear.
“MAY YOUR PUNISHMENT MAKE YOU REFLECT ABOUT THE SINS YOU COMMITTED, YOU LOWLY BEAST.”
“Nooooooooooooooooo!!!” Yelled Greninja. He realized nobody was squeezing his tongue anymore, and the two limbs were nowhere to be seen.
“What the...What in the heavens happened?” Greninja had been so startled he felt tears forming on his eyes. “That had to be the most horrible nightmare I could’ve dreamt of. Me? A sinful and lowly beast to Arceus’ eyes...?” Greninja remembered the carnal thoughts he’d fantasized about just before his meditation. “Could it be a warning about those...?”
It could be a possibility. He needed to consult this with someone. His good old friend Abra could be of assistance, the little psychic was a much higher level monk than him.
Greninja settled for that idea and left the shrine with haste. It was still barely dawn but the sooner Greninja could talk to Abra the better. He really needed a rite of purification. Or even an exorcism.
The froggy monk didn’t expect to bump into anyone this early, but as he hurried along the fields he ran into Farfetch’d. The bird was searching through a patch of onions with a frown on his face. He picked up one of them and threw it as if it were a grenade. Obviously the plant didn’t explode.
“Damn, these vegetables are useless as self-defense weapons. Why did I have to lose my trusty leek?”
Farfetch’d seemed to be in a bad mood. It would have been wiser to just ignore him and continue his way, but our humble monk was too nice to just forget about his manners.
“Good morning, Farfetch’d.” Said Greninja with a serene smile. “Such a fine day to be looking for a new vegan companion. May I recommend a pumpkin? You could pretend they are bombs.”
The bird glared at Greninja’s eyes intensely. Greninja felt uncomfortable, had it been something he said?
Farfetch’d walked towards the giant frog and examined him closely, studying him like a fine piece of art.
“You’re the weirdest-looking vegetable I’ve ever seen.” Was the bird’s conclusion.
“Excuse me?” Greninja was confused by the sudden rudeness.
“But you’re inside a sack, so maybe you belong to someone else...” The Fartech’d pondered as he tugged at Greninja’s raggedy tunic.
Greninja wondered if ‘being inside a sack’ was some kind of hip new expression that was popular among today’s youth. He really needed to get on with the times.
“Oh well, must be karmic retribution to compensate for my lost leek.” Farfetch’d shrugged. “Let’s take a closer look at ya...”
Greninja leaned in so he were at eye-level with the bird. “What do you mean? I-” Greninja’s answer was cut short when without warning Farfetch’d grabbed Greninja’s face with his wing.
It was the weirdest sensation Greninja had ever felt. Just like grabbing a sculpture made of fresh clay directly by its head, when Farfetch’d grabbed his face all of Greninja’s facial features were squashed together in the bird’s feathery fingers.
“Mmmmph!” Shrieked the disjointed mess that was Greninja’s face at the moment. His whole body felt squiggly and rubbery like gelatin at the bird’s touch. Greninja’s arms and legs flopped down and stopped responding to his orders, as if they belonged to an humanoid robot who had been suddenly turned off. His entire body felt very light, completely at the mercy of the small Farfetch’d.
Farfetch’d plucked out Greninja’s whole putty-like body from inside his raggy monk robes and threw the immobile frog away into the dirt head-first. The impact against the ground caused Greninja’s body to deform even further. His blue skin started sweating and shaking in fear, and that was the only thing Greninja could manage to do.
As he stood on the ground, Greninja could feel his deformed body regaining his original form and features extremely slowly... Greninja noticed that he could even make his fingers twitch... Until Farfetch’d touched him again, and he became as helpless as before. The bird had pushed the frog’s body with his feet, making it roll over until the frog’s front side was visible.
Greninja’s heart was truly racing. And although he had dozens of questions to ask about this scary phenomenon he was experiencing right now, at this point in time he couldn’t think about anything else than his exposed body.
The frog had never been naked in front of anyone for as long as he remembered, and here he was, completely naked and immobile at the feet of a small bird. He wanted to cover up his genitals, but his arms didn’t respond as long as the small bird stood on top of him.
He was so terribly embarrassed of himself that he wished and hoped Arceus wasn’t looking at this sinful act.
Farfetch’d was examining Greninja very closely. He could perfectly see Greninja’s tears and his hands probed the frog’s bellybutton. However, the bird seemed completely oblivious to the frog’s suffering. In fact, he didn’t look at him any differently than he did to the other vegetables.
“You’re too large...But maybe if we roll you up a bit...” Farfetch’d said thoughtfully.
The bird’s feet pressed down hard on Greninja’s belly and it became so flattened it almost seemed two dimensional. Then the feet did the same to his arms and head. The dirty bird feet smelled horrible, but smelling them was undoubtedly less painful than when they crushed his cock and balls right after.
When the bird finished flattening Greninja’s legs he grabbed the two-dimensional Greninja and rolled it up like an old newspaper.
The bird swung the rolled up Greninja at the air and smiled. “Yes, this weird blue vegetable will make an excellent addition to my arsenal.” He did a few more practice swings with his living ‘sword’.
Greninja could only see darkness, as his face was buried somewhere behind his flattened limbs and right in front of his own blue butt. He cried out for help but his buttcheeks muffled his cries and screams, not that Farfetch’d seemed very open to listen to what he considered was just a weird-looking vegetable.
Had Farfetch’d gone mad after losing his leek? How had he managed to transform him into a putty-like state just like that? Is this some sort of trial by Arceus? Those were all questions Greninja was asking himself as he felt feathery fingers squeezing his rolled-up body.
The bird looked at the sun using his new sword as a sun shield. “Mmmm...0900 hours, time to report to base.” The bird took flight at full speed by flapping his wings and the blue mass on his fingers in the process. The duck-like pokémon took off, leaving the smelly and raggy tunic from the Greninja that had been there a minute ago behind. 
It indeed wasn’t a good day for Greninja to be afraid of heights. Greninja screamed when he felt himself taking off but that only made his lips taste a blue anus that hadn’t been washed in ages. (“Me? Take a bath? And risk seeing my own willy like a sinner? Never!”, the monk would say.)
Greninja somehow managed to not puke up his own rectum during the flight. The ‘base’ the Farfetch’d had been referring to was just a fancy way to refer to a small nest perched on top of a pine tree that served as the bird’s home. Farfetch’d lived there with his mother, who hated when her son referred to her as his ‘lieutenant’. She just wanted him to grow out of his war games and get a friggin’ job already.
“Private Farfetch’d reporting for duty!” Said the bird when he landed home. “And breakfast.” He quickly added.
“...Seriously?” His mother replied. “Are you still a fledgling? When are you gonna start hunting your own breakfast like an adult?”
“But...Nobody makes breakfast like you do, Lieutenant Mom...” Farfetch’d said with puppy eyes.
“Awww, how can I say no to that cutie face...” His mother was so moved that she puked some regurgitated Caterpies into his son’s mouth.
“Delicious!” Farfetch’d burped. “And look, Mom! I’ve acquitted myself a new weapon to defend our base with!” Farfetched presented the squashed blue mess that once been a Greninja to his mother.
“Hewwwlp...mwee...” The transformed monk tried to say.
...But she didn’t seem to hear him. “What is that piece of rotten crap?” She said taking a whiff from Greninja’s body odor. “I told you not to bring any more foul-smelling vegetables to my home!”
“But they make the perfect weapons!” Farfetch’d protested.
To demonstrate this, Farfetch’d grabbed the Greninja-sword tightly by his unmentionable lower parts and started swinging it around.
If his butt wasn’t squishing against Greninja’s face, you could have seen it was deep red right now. “(This is so wrong...!)” He thought. “(I haven’t touched my balls in decades and certainly never like this!)”
The flying-type pokémon continued his practice swings, having no idea he was holding another sentient being by its genitals. It got much worse when he tried to use Greninja as a hammer against the nest’s floor.
“(Ow! My head! Stop it-OWWW!)”
For the young duck, Greninja was a weapon, a tool for the protection of the country. It had been built to defend the well-being of his loved ones, there was no reason at all to be worried about its own well-being,
However, his mother didn’t share her son’s childish military ambitions. She was tired of cleaning up the messes his son made whenever he found another pretend weapon.
“I just cleaned the nest, your stinky toys have no place here!” His mother slapped her son’s wing, and the rolled-up blue frog launched spinning into the air.
“(What the...Everything’s spinning! What happened?!)”
“Noooooo!” Screamed Farfetch’d, but his mother held him in place so he wouldn’t go after his stupid toy.
“I’m only doing this for your own good.”
Now, if you threw yourself from the top of a pine tree, you’d probably end up breaking all your bones or even dying. But that’s not what happened to Greninja. Instead, when he impacted against the ground his body reacted like a rotten vegetable would in that same situation: smash itself into an unrecognizable mess.
“You smashed it! You’re evil, you’re...!” Cried Farfetch’d incredulously, but then he had a revelation. “My mother’s not a lieutenant, she’s a drill sergeant!” He told himself in utter happiness, his whole life making sense now.
Greninja had gone through a real rollercoaster of emotions, but they all settled into one: acceptance. Yes, his death may not have been as dignified and painless as he expected, but that didn’t matter anymore. He was just a bunch of blue, yellow and pink colors smashed into the ground. He was dead. Soon, he would be one with Arceus. It had been a life worth living...
...Except that his life didn’t end. The mass of blue, yellow and very sensitive pink slowly and oh-so-painfully started regaining a more consistent and recognizable form. Just like smashing a piece of paper on your hand into a ball and then waiting for it slowly unfold into a very wrinkly version of its original form, after a few hours the smashed remains of Greninja started to look more and more like a proper Greninja.
“Wh...What in the world?” Greninja said examining his hands. “I’m...in one piece again?...” The frog pondered about this. “This must be a miracle! Arceus has healed me to give me a second chance!” Greninja struggled to stand up, his whole body aching from his slow and painful recomposition. “Ugh... He should have healed me in a less painful way... Oh! Not that I’m not thankful for your gift, my Lord!” He quickly apologized to the skies. “I promise I’ll make the most of it!”
It was so ironic how Greninja thought of his new cursed existence as a blessing at first. Oh, how wrong he was.
The first thing Greninja had to do was to hide his shame. He instinctively cupped his genitals, then screamed in surprise when the touch of his fingers made his cock twitch. He wasn’t used to the touch of his own blue fingers on it, so he had to take another approach. There were some bushes and broken tree branches around, so he took the time to make himself a makeshift loincloth.
The next thing to do was to trace a course of action. He really had to see Abra to ask him about the recent events that had happened to know whichever they had been caused by an evil force or were a trial made by Arceus... But on the other hand he was worried about his 100 children. They must have been wondering where his Daddy Gre had gone all day...
He meditated for a bit, but in the end his fatherly instincts won over. He’d go to check on his children first, hopefully finding something more proper to wear along the way, and then he’d visit Abra.
That sounded like a good plan to him, so the very modest and humble Greninja made his way back home through the dense forest of Route 666-A hoping not to find more trouble along the way.
But unfortunately his fatherly instincts would betray him just like his trust in God had.
Frogadier felt stressed as hell after bathing his ninety-nine Froakie younger brothers in the pond. It was such a long and tiring task drying them up one by one and worst of all he had to do this every single night. As the eldest of the 100 orphan pokémon it was his duty to be the paternal figure and to take care of all his younger brothers.
But then... Why did Frogadier felt like it was his first time taking care of the kids? They’d always lived by themselves near the pond of Route 666-A and it’s not like Frogadier had become the eldest all of a sudden... How had he managed to live like this until now?
Frogadier’s little blue head hurt from thinking about this. He had the impression he was forgetting about someone or something very important.
And he was certainly right. The will of Arceus had banished the existence of a certain Greninja from everyone’s memories. A Good Greninja who didn’t deserve such a harsh punishment but that he would happily endure if this was really a trial of his omnipotent and all-knowing god.
When Frogadier had finished with his brothers he realized he hadn’t bathed the stinkiest pokémon around: himself. He was ashamed of his repugnant B.O. and always tried to hide it the smell from his younger brothers (something quite complicated to do when your stinking blue dick is exposed all the time) but it was a natural thing. After all, Frogadier was becoming a fully-evolved pokémon. He was going through a strange phase filled with internal urges and really awkward boners popping up at the most inappropriate of times.
The stinky frog hopped into the pond and started washing himself. He was annoyed to find his blue dick spontaneously becoming erect once again.
“Aww, c’mon, I’ve already jacked off five times today...Must’ve been the sight of 99 small dicks jumping around all afternoon...”
Frogadier had an embarrassing secret. He was a gay pokémon, and in the conservative Route 666-A he was better off keeping it a secret.
With a reluctant sigh, Frogadier began jerking off his sausage underwater. At least he had privacy at this time of the night.
“I’m so sick of cleaning up those little dicks though... I’d rather clean up fully-evolved pokémon cock... With my tongue, hehehe...”
Frogadier kept on swimming around the pond, with small pauses to jack off a little more now and then. Damn, what he’d give to find a nice buffy Incineroar desperately needing his colossal kitty cock sucked by a subby water-type...
But Frogadier was too scared of hooking up with someone. If anyone were to find out he liked guys his reputation was ruined. He wouldn’t be allowed to keep living with his brothers anymore.
As Frogadier felt himself close to orgasm, he looked at the stars shining in the dark of the night and told them his extremely carnal wish:
“Sigh... I just wish I could fuck with a stud pokémon anytime I wanted without fear that he’d tell anyone about it afterwards...”
Unbeknown to Frogadier, a shadowy figure behind a tree had been observing him for a long while. The figure was tall, reeked of sweat and musky body odor, not a single stitch of clothing covered his lean and muscular frame and it was panting excitedly at the sight of the masturbating Frogadier.
“Puff... Uff... Finally I’m back home!” Said the exhausted Greninja. Traversing the way back from the forest without being seen by anyone hadn’t been easy, but here he was now at his dearly beloved pond. “And Frogadier’s still up I see. That’s great news, he’ll surely be able to fetch me some clothes. I wonder why he’s taking this long to wash his weewee though...” He pondered as the red-faced Frogadier kept beating off. “He must be a clean freak, nothing wrong with that.”
After making sure none of the Froakies were around, Greninja sneaked up to Frogadier and called out to him.
“Uh?! Is someone there?!” Frogadier asked and immediately covered his boner with his hands. The blue frog swam out from the pond and looked behind the tree where Greninja was hiding.
“What the...?” Frogadier exclaimed in surprise.
Greninja blushed and readjusted his poorly-made loincloth, it was so embarrassing to be seen like this... How could he explain his pitiful state?
“Frogadier...I’m sorry you had to see me like this, but- PFFFFFFT!”
Greninja covered his mouth. What the hell had that been?
“PFFFFFT! PFFFFFT! PFFFFFFT!” Greninja tried and tried to formulate his words, but only short bursts of air came out from his mouth. It felt like his insides were changing into air and everything tried to get out whenever he opened his mouth.
It was a crazy thought. Greninja wondered if he’d rather keep his mouth closed. Not that he had a choice because soon after his lips became sealed in a puckered up position. As if he was asking for a kiss.
“Is this what I think it is?” Said Frogadier to himself, ignoring his father’s distress completely.
The sorry excuse for a monk tried to ask his son for help but even pantomimes didn’t work... because his blue arms became completely rigid!
They became stuck in place in a strange position. Greninja’s arms were reaching forward, as if he were asking for a warm hug, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t move them from that position.
Of course, nobody would want a hug from a dirty and half-naked Greninja whose lips looked like they were ready to suck the biggest cock.
Greninja’s behind was the next to change. His buttcheeks swelled in size at the same time as his deep blue asshole did, causing his loincloth to rip into pieces in the process.
The monk wanted to scream in utter embarrassment as his pink cock came into the view of his eldest son. This was wrong, oh so wrong, he couldn’t help thinking. He wanted to close his eyes but they stayed permanently open, looking at Frogadier’s own with what could only be described as lust. 
He felt a raging boner coming up. Greninja never knew if it was because of his own deepest desires or because of his strange transformation, but he surely knew he hadn’t been this hard since he was a teenager.
Finally, his legs went rigid just like his arms had done, but they felt weak and practically weightless so Greninja’s entire body fell backwards into the ground but his stance didn’t change a bit. He couldn’t move at all, not even his eyes which now where literally staring into space. He was like a giant action figure of himself. Or a doll. A doll with sexual parts...
“I can’t believe it!” Said the excited Frogadier as he prodded his father’s immobile body as if he were an illusion. “A full-sized Greninja sexdoll!” Frogadier glanced at his father’s permanently erected dick and balls and his expression of surprised turned into a manic grin. “And it’s clearly a MALE! Dear sweet Arceus, you gave me just I wanted!”
“(I’m just what he wanted?! Oh dear... That’s not how I raised my son at all...!)” Lamented Greninja. Frogadier couldn’t be a gay pokémon!
Dammit! This certainly wasn’t Greninja’s day. First that Farfetch’d uses him like a weapon and now his own son thinks he’s a sexdoll of himself!
There seemed to be a connection between two cases, however. In both occasions the other pokémon didn’t recognize Greninja as a pokémon at all. They just saw him as some object that they desperately wanted. Were they both going mad? No, that wouldn’t explain why his body seemed to accommodate to every situation accordingly...
But there were more important things to worry about now. For starters, his son’s apparent gayness.
Even knowing his son couldn’t really hear him, Greninja said: “(Frogadier, you’re just confu- AAAAAH!)”
“Dang! Its penis is so realistic!” Frogadier croaked happily. “And its ballsack as well! They even put some sort of vulnerable nut-like thingies inside it so it feels more like actual testicles!” He said as he squashed the orbs.
Greninja’s body temperature raised dramatically, which was now his only way to express himself. “(Please, there’s no need to test their durability! You’re gonna crush your father’s balls!”)
“Let’s check your backside...” Frogadier flipped his inert father over to take a look at his bulbous buttcheeks. Greninja’s face couldn’t do anything else than kiss the ground retaining the same seductive expression in his eyes.
Frogadier took a quick whiff of his father’s deep blue anus. “Yuck! It smells gross! But it’s extremely tight, so I guess nobody has used it yet...”
“(Of course it hasn’t!”) His father thought with pride. “(My anus is sacred, I always make sure I don’t directly touch it when I wipe and...W-wait what are you...AAAAHH! No, son! That’s disgusting!”)
Greninja couldn’t believe when his son teased his hole with his little fingers. Of course, our chaste and benevolent hero wasn’t still aware of how truly fucked he was. Or more accurately should I say, will be. So when Frogadier next gave his anus a careful lick with his long frog tongue his father thought that he had already hit rock bottom.
“(O...okay...So my son likes to lick men’s anuses. That’s completely gross, but he’s just confused, it doesn’t necessarily make him gay...right? With proper counseling, he’ll be married to a beautiful female in no time... I bet he’s shivering with disgust right now.”) Greninja could only look at the dirt below, so he didn’t see Frogadier’s face melting with pleasure at the taste of his butthole nor the way he was jerking his cock dangerously close to his rectum.
After shyly making sure one more time that they were alone, Frogadier looked at the exposed asshole but hesitated for a bit. “Why am I so nervous? It’s not like I’m gonna lose my virginity, it’s just a sexdoll. But...it looks so real. It feels like it’s my actual first time...”
“(Wait...Are you gonna actually fuck me?!! No, son...I’m not a sexdoll, I’m your father!)”
“Oh, well. It’s not like the doll’s gonna judge me...” Frogadier said to himself.
“(Noooo! Son, hear me out! You have to hear me out...! What is this thing...No! NO! NOOOOOOO!!!)”
In the woods near the pond, a single pokémon could be heard whimpering faintly with pleasure.
If you had good hearing, you could also hear some squeaking sounds, like a balloon being squished with the help of something long and hard.
But you’d never been able to hear the screams. The screams of pain, of horror, of humiliation and of despair that Greninja tried and tried so hard to cry out.
That was it. Greninja was being fucked by his son. How could everything have ended this way? Greninja had just wanted to be the best example for his children, not...this! A fucking living sexdoll! Everything Greninja had fought for was ruined. His son was a perverted gay sinner!...No...It wasn’t Frogadier’s fault... It was all his own fault! He was the one who came here naked and transformed into the damned sexdoll that had awakened his son’s deviant sexuality!
Greninja didn’t want to be there anymore. No, not because he was still being fiercely fucked by his son’s huge member. He just wanted to vanish. To stop existing. If he did that, then maybe he wouldn’t bring more pain and suffering to his loved ones.
“I’ve never been more satisfied and happier!” Cried out Frogadier. “But...Why didn’t I cum...? Wait...maybe...”
But Greninja’s wish wasn’t conceded. In fact, if we were to summarize all the events that have happened up to this point in the story and converted them into a phrase that compared it to the rest of what was to come we’d discover Greninja’s current despair was ‘just the tip’. Whatever you want to express it as “the tip of the iceberg” or “the tip of the pretty long shaft that was currently fucking his ass” it’s up to you.
Frogadier flipped his father over once again. His face was exactly the same as before. Not a single teardrop of pain or sadness on it.
“I’ve always been wondering...Maybe I’m actually a bottom...” Frogadier said to himself.
Greninja wasn’t well-versed in gay slang so he had no idea what he meant. But he had the impression he wasn’t gonna like it.
Frogadier looked at his father’s face and got close to it. His son’s face was beautiful for a Frogadier, although for his father he’ll always be the little Froakie he adopted all those years ago.
Frogadier’s and Greninja’s plastic eyes were making eye-contact. Greninja focused hard, as if to trying to communicate telepathically to his son the true identity of the doll he had just fucked.
Greninja focused...
“(C’mon son! You have to recognize me! It’s me! Your dad!)” Greninja said over and over. He was so focused looking at his son’s eyes that he didn’t notice Frogadier lowering his butthole.
“(Uh?!)” Greninja felt a pleasurable sensation on his dick. His dick was now permanently rock-hard, but it had been stuck in his underbelly until now so the sudden feeling surprised him.
“(Wait...NO! FROGADIER, DON’T!)”
Being fucked by Frogadier had been the worst thing that had ever happened to Greninja, but that accomplishment was about to be broken in record time.
“(NOOO! DON’T MAKE ME FUCK YOU!)”
Greninja didn’t want to fuck his own son. And he certainly didn’t want to look at him in the eyes as he did so. Frogadier, his eldest son, so mature and well-behaved for his age. He just couldn’t penetrate his son... But the sexdoll’s boner showed no objections. It hadn’t had proper release in ages, if ever.
Greninja looked at his son seductively as his rock-hard boner fucked his asshole. His son panted and puffed as he rode his cock and in the heat of the moment he kissed Greninja in his puckered up lips, imagining in his head that the doll was alive and eager.
But the real Greninja behind those plastic eyes was crying. He certainly wasn’t enjoying this but his body temperature was becoming warmer and warmer as he felt something on his balls. Oh god...He needed to cum...He didn’t want to, but it’s not like he had any say in the matter. He was just a sexdoll.
Greninja felt in heaven for an instant. He felt a glorious pleasurable and alien sensation he hadn’t feel for a long time. And this just traumatized him even more.
Frogadier felt the liquid in his rectum, but thought nothing of it, probably some synthetic liquid made to resemble real cum. Besides, he was about to shoot a puddle of his own.
“Ohh! I’m...I’m about to...Ah!”
Greninja felt something warm hitting his face.
“Uh...wow...Ha...Hahaha! That was so fun!” Frogadier hugged his sexdoll, as if to thank it for a work well done.
Greninja’s plastic face covered in his son’s semen looked happy, and, for a split second, the actual Greninja was happy too. He wished the hug would last forever. No sins, no gods, no curses, no forced anal sex, just a loving hug between father and son. His exhausted mind just wanted to think about how much he loved his son and nothing else. He knew it was futile, that the actual weight of the situation would fall in and despair would ultimately continue but for a few seconds everything seemed to look right in the world.