Path of Least Resistance

               Alright, I've got myself another story now. I still have to finish my HP story, "Party at the Weasley's," but I caught a bit of inspiration for this. It's all kinda leading into an even more controversial story that I'm going to do eventually. Hope you enjoy this. Should be a few chapters long in the end. Be sure to review it and tell me what you think, and don't forget to check out my other story too! :)

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               The Veridian Forest was quiet that night. Every bit of the dense foliage seemed as though it was breathing, eager to draw in an unsuspecting wanderer and devour her whole. Moonlight filtered in through one gap in the treetops just above the clearing. It was here that Misty had decided to make camp, tired from a day’s hike from Cerulean City. Despite her exhaustion, she was still excited to be starting her journey as a Pokemon trainer, having turned ten years old the week prior and registering for her Trainer’s license.

                Her only protection was the Starmie, resting soundly in his Pokeball. He had been injured today, and Misty was headed for a Pokemon Center, but simply could not go any farther without rest, so she erected her tent and began work starting a fire. As she searched the surrounding underbrush for firewood, Misty heard a faint scuttling sound, and what she thought was a growl. Calm down, Misty, she thought in her growing panic, the worst this forest has to offer are Beedrill, and they aren’t nocturnal.

                Though she continued to reassure herself, her fear only grew as, strike after strike, she failed to ignite the fire. After about thirty minutes of fruitless attempts, she gave up and chose, instead, to get ready for bed. Her left arm slipped out from beneath the red suspenders that chaffed her shoulder, soon followed by the other so that the suspenders hung limp at her waist. Next, she removed the thin, buttercup half-shirt and tossed it to the ground. She always slept in the nude, which she attributed to her love of swimming, and desire to be unencumbered. Certainly, she was free enough to move now that her chest was bare, and, as if to demonstrate her range of mobility, she arched her back, stretching both arms behind her, fingers interlaced and letting out small pops as the tingling sensation spread through her torso. A great yawn accompanied the stretch, bring her mouth open wide into an “O,” framed by her glistening, infantile lips.

                Once she felt limber and relaxed, her thumbs hooked the inside of her tiny denim shorts and lowered them to her ankles. Then the same with her frilly, Dratini-print panties. It was a strange idiosyncrasy of hers, but she always removed her shorts, then her panties, never both simultaneously. Her sisters always teased her about it, claiming that she just liked showing off when she undressed, which was completely untrue, no matter how much she prided herself in the smooth, prominent curve of her butt. The same butt that was now exposed to the cold night air, just like the rest of her. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her chest, noting that her nipples, which poked out from her flat chest, were rather hard.

                Misty folded her clothes and set them inside her tent, before turning back, intending to work on starting the fire once more. However, before she could move, she felt warm air across her backside, causing her to squirm involuntarily at the sensation. When she did look back, the fire was high and bright, as if it had been burning for hours. Misty was scared. How did this happen? She wondered. There wasn’t much time to ponder the mystery, though: at that moment, a pack of Houndoom filled the clearing, all of them growling in a low rumble that shook Misty’s core. Their teeth were long and pointed, dripping the dogs’ slobber onto the already moist grass.

                The head of the pack put one paw forward, frightening Misty, who took a step back. In doing so, Misty tripped over a fallen branch and lay sprawled on her stomach. In her attempt to stand up, her hindquarters lifted into the air, which was enough to provoke the Alpha.

                He pounced on Misty, mounting her haunches and digging his claws into the soil just above her shoulders for support. At first, Misty thought the dogs had intended to eat her, but, without any mitigation of her horror, Misty realized that they had different intentions when something warm and slimy began to press at the opening to her vagina. And if there had been any doubt in that moment, it was gone in the next when the Alpha of the pack began to rape her.

                Unfamiliar and confusing sensations erupted within Misty as she lay there, helpless to resist against the snarling creature above her. She could only bite down on her lip and thrust after thrust bruised her innards, her hymen torn away after the first insertion. Between whimpers, she found herself giving tiny moans in time with the beast’s thrusts because, despite herself, she was filled with a strange pleasure both from being penetrated, and from being so completely helpless.

                The Alpha’s motions became more erratic as it sprayed its seed deep into Misty’s body, which she felt pooling over her cervix. She thought, with relief, and also the faintest twinge of disappointment, that it was over, only to be filled again by ne next dog. It seemed that the entire pack was to have their way with her. Misty realized that things would become much easier if she simply gave in to what was happening, so she relaxed her body, which had been tense until now, and bucked her hips as the dog assaulted her. 

                Misty was unashamedly crying out in pleasure as the third beast entered her, its cock shorter, but much thicker than the others. She was so caught up in bliss that she failed to notice the two passersby who came across the clearing.

                It was a woman, whose belly was slightly swollen in a way that showed she had been pregnant for several months, and her young daughter. The girl could only have been about 6, hardly reaching her mother’s hip. Her dirty blond hair fell loose over her shoulders, accenting her bright green eyes. The short sundress she wore flared up with each step she took, flashing her pale, slender thighs, and the tiny white cotton panties that separated them.

                The mother was a gorgeous woman. The kind who only became more beautiful with pregnancy, giving off a warm aura around her. Her hair was short and dark, and her eyes matched her daughter’s.

                It was the daughter who saw the scene first. She squealed and pulled at her mother’s skirt, terrified of the snarling dogs that appeared to be hurting the girl in the clearing. Her mother, however, realized what was really going on, having once been in Misty’s position herself as a young trainer, and reached for her pokeballs. Before she had even managed to open her bag, though, a Houndoom was aat her throat, sinking his teeth into her flesh. He tore away through muscle and bone, completely beheading the woman. The daughter shrieked to no avail as the dog picked her up by her ankle in his blood covered muzzle and dragged her next to where Misty was still being raped.