No Catching A Break
By Limewah
Patron Reward for Moggers (July 2023)

Most people, after being attacked and nearly devoured by a creature while on a holiday, would probably spend the rest of their time in their hotel rooms, or pulling the plug on the trip early.
Sascha was not most people.
The giant, voluptuous tigress had spent a huge chunk of her previous day buried in a pile of sentient slime ; it turned out the beach she’d been trespassing on had been closed for a very good reason. Someone much smaller than her might have been in some serious danger.
But her size, her stature, and her excellent breath control eventually lead to her would-be devourer giving up and letting her go, and a long, shameful walk back to the resort with sticky fur, her tail between her legs, and an abiding sense of humiliation.
She never was really afraid for her life. She’d been ‘eaten’ enough times to find the experience annoying and unpleasant. 
She was thankful that the Muk that swallowed her didn’t smell like year-old trash, at least… even so, she’d been up most of the night scrubbing and drying and scrubbing and drying her fur over and over to get the smell out.
She might have ended up losing all the day to catching up on sleep, but through sheer bloody-minded determination (and a couple of energy drinks) she had forced herself out of her room and into the open. She was going to enjoy her holiday, even if she had lost a day, dammit!

She wasn’t down by the beach this time, though. She left the Malie City resort and headed towards the gardens. The sprawling park surrounding a massive lake was verdant, beautiful, and - most importantly - was mostly wide open. She wasn’t going to get surprised or dragged off by anything. 
Now the only thing she had to worry about was the other tourists or locals eyeing her up. That was far more manageable - honestly, she was happy to let them look. Her fears that her bathing hadn’t been thorough enough were gone once she passed by a couple of older men and saw no signs of them turning their noses up or grimacing. 
Later that afternoon she would have a proper spa treatment at the hotel; one she was very much in the mood for. Killing time was the order for the morning.

She felt a slight twinge of trepidation whenever she passed by tall grass or between trees, though. Her fur bristling, her eyes dilating unwittingly as she scanned for anything that might leap out at her.
It wasn’t unfounded - a little purple Ekans slithered into view, mouth wide open as it went towards her foot.
“Shoo! Shoo!” Sascha snarled, kicking out at it and watching it scurry back into the brush. She caught a glimpse of a little collar around its neck - it must have been an escaped pet. A pet with eyes far bigger than its stomach.
She would have found it endearing, if she wasn’t already fed up with Pokémon trying to sneak a bite.
Otherwise it was an uneventful meander through the massive park, plenty of time for her to reflect and relax - as well as tire herself out to enjoy her spa treatment that much more.

That wasn’t happening, unfortunately for her.

When she first felt the cool, rough tendril wrap around her ankle, she tried to kick it away, thinking the Ekans had come back for a second attempt. It didn’t let go; in fact, it tightened.
“Hey!” she snapped, looking down only to find a light brown, vine-like appendage with a leaf-like spade at the end. It tugged at her again, more insistently than last time.
Another, sharper tug made her stumble, and the vine got tighter still. Sascha’s eyes followed the length of the tendril, and saw it was connected to a large, speckled yellow, pitcher-like shape. Two green leaves at the base, teeth around the pink lipped rim at the top, and two beady, scowling eyes.

A Victreebel. A rather large one, too, large enough to fit her inside.
It definitely must have also been owned by someone - it was both not native to the area, but it was massive. Clearly well-fed, too.
Sascha groaned. She could see where this was going. But she reached down to grab at the vine nonetheless - she could probably pull the feeler off her leg
Another, far sharper yank made her stumble and lose her grip, the vine grappling her arms next. It wound up her body and reeling her in like a fish on a line. The vine-tentacle was insistently pressing into the tigress’ flesh, and she started to snarl.
“I really am not in the mood for this…!” 
The Victreebel didn’t seem to be deterred. In fact, as Sascha was pulled closer, and the vine pulled her arms down by her sides, the plant pokemon relaxed its grip on her legs while tightening around her torso. 
It tightened around her neck, and tugged twice, sharply, like a leash.
A familiar feeling washed over Sascha. A feeling of resignation and frustration.
Yes, this was happening, whether she wanted it to or not. As the tugs forced her to walk and follow the huge, shuffling pitcher-plant, she could see the dense corpse of trees that it was very clearly leading her towards, clearly so it could devour her in peace.
“Here we go,” she sighed, as they led her deep into the dark shade.

As soon as they were out of sight, the grip tightened again, forcing a grunt out of her and holding her very still. The Victreebel lazily floated down towards the ground, soft of crumpling down a little bit like a plastic bag. With an insistent tug, Sascha got the gist of what the creature wanted for her, and at this point she was looking to just get it over with. 
She looked over the rim into the dark insides of the plant pokemon - she could see some shimmering purple goop at the bottom, most likely its digestive fluids. 
She knew it wasn’t going to do much, but she really wasn’t relishing it.
The vine tugged her again.
“All right, all right! Calm down.” Sascha sighed.
She stepped over the lip of the Victreebel’s body and trepidatiously placed her foot inside it. The fluid was warm, sort of sticky, with a very slight fizzy tingle to it. More like soda water than acid. She took another step over the rim next, and felt the creature quiver around her with excitement. It seemed like it liked her taste. Rolling her eyes, she remained perfectly still.As the vine finally released from her, she folded her arms and lifted her legs, confirming that - yep - there was a stickiness to the inside of the Victreebel that made it basically impossible for her to escape on her own. 
There wasn’t much else to do aside from just… wait it out. She couldn’t tap her foot, but she looked down impatiently at the Victreebel. It looked like it was in heaven, its eyes watery with apparent tears. 
“Well, glad you’re having fun,” Sascha sniped.
It looked up at her with a confused glare, and it warbled and shuddered before it finally began to work its way up to engulf her. Her thighs were quite thick, to the point that she got slightly lodged, her muscles squeezed against the struggling, gulping lips. She waited for the Vicreebel to continue, having no interest in squeezing or helping out. The fibrous insides of the Pokémon eventually got past her thighs and her butt, squeezing with form-fitting tightness. The stickiness was starting to rise up, too, clearly it was making more of its enzymes to get to the impossible task of digesting her. It started to feel like a slightly fizzy bath, like the worst spa treatment she ever had.
Oh yeah, right… she was almost certainly going to miss her spa appointment. And while the sticky sap felt strangely nice against her now-matted fur. This was hardly a good substitute.
When the Victreebel had almost entirely consumed her, the purple fluid had made it all the way up to her lips and lower jaw. She puckered her lips, trying to make sure none of that gunk got in. She snorted, blowing bubbles along the surface of the purple pool.
At least she wasn’t completely engulfed and got at least a bit of the air - though most of it was tinged with the cloying floral scent of the Victreebel’s insides.
The Victreebel gurgled and groaned, lifting its long tendril up to a nearby branch and hoisting itself upwards - slowly and shakily. 
Sascha rolled her eyes as she was jostled back and forth, and the single vine slowly lifted the pair up to swing in mid-air.
As she swung inside the pitcher, she felt the Victreebel sag under her weight. She already had her doubts that it’d be able to keep her aloft forever. It was a pointless exercise - not that she could tell it to see reason. Hopefully its trainer would come by at some point.
The sticky purple enzymes would take ages to even start to digest her. By the time the plant gave up, she’d have lost some of her fur - not enough for most people to notice, but definitely enough for her to hyperfixate on for the next week at least.
Plus, no spa treatment.
…Maybe she wouldn’t stay the rest of the week after all. She wasn’t exactly going to quit while she was ahead… but she’d had enough embarrassment to give up on this holiday.
As soon as she was free from this thing, and gave its owner a very stern talking to.

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