“Kyaaaaah!” Braixen let out a squeal he made another big push, starting to expel a third grimer from his body, which had become an unwilling home and breeding ground to the foul things. He could feel the slime that made up its belly shifting through his guts, moving from deep inside him all the way down to his tailhole, where it was beginning to flow out of him over the base of his tail—slowly, all too slowly, the stuff thicker than molasses as it trickled through his insides. His pushing didn’t even seem to affect its progress that much; Braixen was doing it mostly out of instinct. Regardless of whether he pushed, did nothing, or even tried to resist its progress, the grimer moved at the same steady rate, its body too slippery and malleable for his inner muscles to get a grip on. It moved at its own comfortable pace. Comfortable for it, at any rate. It certainly wasn’t comfortable for him. Though that fact didn’t show in his body’s reaction to its passage. Although he didn’t have an erection, the grimer seemed to almost intentionally grind against Braixen’s prostate as it passed by, and the fox’s cock was leaking a steady stream of fluid as it went. It welled inside his sheath, dribbling out from its furry lips to leak out over his balls. His fat, grotesquely swollen balls. The grimer hadn’t stopped at monopolizing his guts; one of the things had taken up rent inside his testicles, as well. The precum dribbling out of him was tinted a deep purple by its presence, though it remained runny and transparent, merely tainted by the grimer rather than turned into its characteristic slime. Braixen assumed that the creature was biding its time, waiting for something. Not that such was the focus of his attention at that moment. After all, the grimer percolating through his intestines had yet to make its exit. Its slimy body pooled over top of his tail, a growing heap of sludge that was watched with delight by the two other grimer Braixen had already passed, who flanked him on either side as they watched the proceedings. Braixen wished they’d go away, but at the same time, where was there for them to go to? Him—all four, soon to be five of them—were trapped at the bottom of the vat. The same vat which Braixen had gotten into this whole mess by falling into in the first place. He supposed he was at least grateful that the grimer seemed intent on staying out of him, and hadn’t crawled out of his ass merely to plunge back into some other orifice. With another yip and an accompanying whine, Braixen managed to pass the last of the latest grimer out of his body. Or, depending on perspective, managed to survive it squishing and oozing out of his insides. It slid off of his tail to join the rest of its fellows. Braixen laid there on the ground in the wake of its exit, exhausted, his fur caked in globs of thick, colourful purple sludge from the grimer along with the thinner and slightly more clear slime of his own creation. His balls were especially soaked, the bottom half with grimer slime, the top his own pre. Every bit of slime that was drying into his fur or standing around him in heaps was that much less that was [i]inside[/i] of him, at the very least. Braixen’s belly, which had earlier been so absurdly distended that he couldn’t even stand due to its weight, was now shrunk down to a far more reasonable size. Not flat, but only as big as a female about halfway to laying. In comparison to earlier, he felt positively weightless. Even as drained as he was, Braixen still found the energy to push himself up into a sitting position, happy to finally be able to do so after what had to be hours of laying about unconscious with grimer multiplying inside of him, followed by the labour of... well, labour. His grimer stood around, examining him with—what, curiosity? Amusement? Perhaps dimwitted ambivalence. Either way, Braixen paid them no mind as he caught his breath. Eventually, he felt daring enough to try to stand. That was a much taller order than just sitting up. Obviously, his own weakness was a factor in that, but the biggest problem was his new weight distribution. Braixen’s legs shook as he tried to pull himself up to his feet, straining under the pull of gravity on his sizable belly, but even more so under the enormous mass of his balls. They were so big he had to splay his feet wide just to fit them between his thighs, every movement sending their liquid contents sloshing. Braixen groaned and staggered over to the side of the vat, planting his hands against it to steady himself. He stared up at the metal platform standing at its edge, a few feet above his head. If he jumped up, he’d be able to grab it and pull himself up, but that plan obviously hinged on his legs being able to muster the strength for a jump to even start. And the idea of pulling himself up afterwards, weighed down by his unwanted guests as he was? No-go. He pressed his forehead against the side of the vat and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. So this was how it was gonna end, then? Finally having gotten the Thunder Stone, stashed safely in the fluff of his tail, only to meet his end at the bottom of a vat a few mere feet away from freedom? And with only grimer around to see him out. What a way to go. Those moping thoughts had so consumed Braixen’s attention that he failed to notice the slime that was pooling around his feet. There was more than enough slime in and around him, after all, he couldn’t notice every little glob of it. But he definitely noticed when it slid under his pawpads and, securing a grip around his ankles with its tendrils, began to [i]push.[/i] Braixen’s eyes shot open, and his head whipped down. Gathered underneath him in a big semisolid pile were all three of the grimer he’d just birthed, having wrapped themselves around his paws. Instantly, dread rose up, thoughts that they’d decided to violate him once again coming to his mind—but he quickly realised that they weren’t tormenting him, but were actually helping him. They were pushing him higher, towards the platform! His hands scrambled to grab hold of the edge of the platform above. As soon as he managed to get a grip on it, Braixen started pulling himself upwards with as much strength as he could muster. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to help the grimer in their efforts to lift him higher, stretching themselves out into a slimy column as they tried to hoist his legs up parallel to the platform. It was working! Once he was level with the floor of the platform, Braixen started pulling himself forward instead of up, paws gripping the holes in the latticework as he crawled. His belly snagged on its edge for a minute, but with a bit of effort, he managed to pull it up and onto the surface. His balls were another matter. They caught and hung over the edge, too heavy for him to lift, threatening to drag him right back down into the vat. Braixen felt horror rising up in his chest as his grip started to slip under their weight, but the grimer came to the rescue once again. Two tendrils reached out and grabbed a hold of both of his fat nuts, pushing them up and over onto the platform, completing his escape. Braixen laid there on his front for a minute, catching his breath after the sudden exertion, before finally standing up and looking back into the vat. The three grimer looked back up at him, smiling, apparently pleased to have been of use. Braixen stared back at them, unsure of how to feel. They were the ones who’d gotten him into this mess, after all, even if they’d helped him out of it. Or were they different grimer, split off from the ones inside him? Did he even have a right to hold a grudge? In the end, right didn’t much factor into it. Regardless of what they did or didn’t do, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at them after how they’d helped him. “Thank you,” Braixen said, smiling despite himself and giving the three of them a parting wave. They each waved back with hastily formed, goopy arms. Shortly after, Braixen made his way out of the factory, and then to a small river that ran through just behind it. Most pokémon avoided it; having been used to dump waste in the factory’s heyday, it still reeked of the chemicals that had polluted it so long ago. Braixen, however, found the stink of muk too deeply burned into his nose for him to even notice the scent. To him, it was as pure as a mountain stream—and besides, he was too eager for an opportunity to scrub the slime out of his fur to care. --- Braixen hadn’t bothered heading back the way he’d come in. His approach along the highway had been the quickest route, but had also hinged upon him being quick and able to avoid detection by passing humans. With the swollen sack between his legs, just a few inches short of dragging along the ground, speed was out of the question. He’d be easy pickings for any trainer that laid eyes on him. So he was staggering through the forest instead in a far longer, far more roundabout route, but one that was the only option left to him. After all, he [i]had[/i] to deliver that Thunder Stone. It seemed a little silly, but really, the whole grimer problem was of less significance than the one that had brought him to the factory in the first place. After all, in his current condition, he was even more ripe to be squashed flat by an angry seismitoad debt collector. The delivery had to come first. The journey was exhausting. Carving a path through the forest was brisk work in the best of conditions, and he was definitely not in the best of conditions. Braixen had to make every step carefully to avoid catching his [i]precious cargo[/i] on a stray branch or thorny plant. If there was something in his way, like a log that he’d usually be able to hop right over, he instead had to walk all the way around it. His swollen sac permitted no climbing or clambering. Braixen estimated he’d gotten maybe a quarter of the way there before he was forced to stop. He sat down heavily against the side of a tree—most heavily between his legs, his balls rolling out over his knees as he set himself down—and let his head rest against it, eyes slipping shut as he panted. He stayed there catching his breath for a long time. Long enough for him to realise that ever since leaving the factory, he hadn’t sneezed once. Losing his allergies in exchange for everything that had happened was [i]not[/i] an even trade. At the end of however long a stretch of time that was, he heard a voice: feminine, high, borderline squeaky. “Hi!” Braixen opened his eyes. Standing just beside him, leaning over to stare into his face, was a small, brown, and exceptionally fluffy pokémon. “I’m Eevee. Can I have that Thunder Stone?” He blinked. Then, he looked over to his tail, where he saw that the Thunder Stone was poking out slightly from its fluffy mass. He was lucky the Eevee hadn’t just taken it and run off while his eyes were closed. He bent down and snatched it up, holding it close to his chest. “Nope, no, sorry,” Braixen said, pushing himself up to his feet with a struggle and a grunt of effort. “Out of the question. Bye now, have a nice day!” Braixen turned and started walking off immediately, not sparing Eevee a second glance as he took his long, bowlegged steps. She was quick to follow. “Aw, c’mon, pleeeease?” Eevee whined, easily keeping pace with him and walking alongside him, staring up at Braixen while he refused to meet her gaze. “I really wanna evolve! I’m tired of gettin’ shoved around all the time by bigger pokémon!” “Yeah, yeah, I really feel for ya,” Braixen said. “I’m sure if you try real hard and believe in yourself or whatever you’ll be able to solve that problem on your own.” “Don’t be like that,” Eevee huffed, puffing out her cheeks. “What do you want it for, anyway? You can’t even use it!” “Don’t worry about it.” “I [i]am[/i] worrying about it,” Eevee said, walking around from his side to directly in front of him. He kept moving, not letting her impede his progress, but she just backpedalled, easily able to keep pace while walking backwards and staring up at him. “What do you want for it? I’ll trade ya.” “You don’t have anything I want,” Braixen said, a tone of annoyance making itself increasingly present in his voice. “I don’t need things, I got [i]services,[/i]” Eevee said, putting a great flourish on that last word. “For example, how about I drain those fat balls of yours?” Braixen stumbled a step, almost tripping over the balls in question. He looked down at Eevee with wide eyes, shocked to hear such crude language coming out of the mouth of something so small and cute. “What, you think I didn’t notice?” Eevee said, delighting in having finally caught his attention and looking up at him with a lecherous grin. “Those things are almost the size of me, which means I’m a perfect place for you to unload ‘em! How’d you let them get so big? You gotta be dyin’ for some relief.” “You do [i]not[/i] want me to do that,” Braixen said, shaking his head. “Oh, I know exactly what I want,” Eevee said, having shifted her gaze from his face down to his balls, licking her chops at the sight of them. “C’mooooon. I get a Thunder Stone, you get to drain your nuts into a cute little thing like me. Everyone wins!” Braixen could feel a twinge from down below at those words, but it wasn’t one of arousal, and it hadn’t come from him—rather, it had come from [i]inside[/i] him. There was a shifting, a squirming coming from inside his balls, the eevee’s proposition serving to excite what was inside them. If she knew, she’d back off in an instant, but it wasn’t as if he could just tell her. Braixen was hardly eager to ruin his reputation by letting everyone know what had taken up lodging inside his... sensitive regions. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Braixen said, turning his nose up at her and marching off in the same direction he’d been going, intent on ignoring her the rest of the way until she finally gave up and buzzed off. Unfortunately, Eevee did not resume her earlier backpedalling, nor did she move to the side. Averting his eyes from her as he was, Braixen didn’t realise how firmly Eevee was standing her ground—up until a few steps in, when he felt himself walk right into her and found that she stood at exactly the right height to stick her little wet nose directly into his sheath. “Oh, I’m going to get a response,” Eevee said, taking a step forward to better bury her muzzle into the folds of his sheath. “Maybe a little demonstration will convince ya?” Braixen felt her breath washing over his junk as she spoke, hot and wet. Hotter and wetter still was her tongue, which invaded the inside of his sheath the moment that she finished speaking. It drilled deep inside, seeking out the tip of his cock. Once it found it, started lavishing it with affection, lapping at it from underneath, twisting around to lick at it from the sides Looking down, Braixen could see his sheath actually wrapping around her muzzle as she sought out his dick inside. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, and if it had been in any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the opportunity to get blown by someone as small and cute as she was. In that moment, though, he felt only a sense of growing horror at what was about to happen, even as the excitement roiling in his balls started to grow to a fever pitch. The sludge in his belly rolled over once, and Braixen felt an immediate weakness in his legs, shaking for a moment before they gave out he was forced down to his knees. The Thunder Stone slipped from his hands and tumbled to the grass beside him, but neither of them noticed, their attentions fixed firmly elsewhere. “Stop,” Braixen pleaded, panting and feeling his face starting to flush. “Don’t be such a prude,” Eevee said, moving even closer to his now kneeling form. She had to plant her front paws on his swollen balls to keep her muzzle buried in his sheath, and the feel of her weight against them, kneading at his sludge-packed nuts, made him shudder. “You decide if you wanna give me the Thunder Stone or not, but I’m not leaving until you empty these inside me, got it?” Braixen definitely got it, but he doubted that Eevee knew exactly what it was she was asking for. But there was no way he could explain it to her, or do anything but moan as her tongue continued to lick and slurp at the head of his cock. The muk in his belly and the grimer in his balls were writhing about inside him, and Braixen knew they had something to do with the sudden surge of sensitivity he felt in his sheath, his shaft, his balls, everything that Eevee could get her paws and mouth on. There was nothing he could do to stop, or even slow himself from getting hard. He practically sprang from his sheath, suddenly possessed of a need greater than anything he’d ever felt before, deeper than anything the scent of a horny female in heat could ever impart. Braixen needed to cum, needed to let out the load of toxic sludge boiling away inside his balls, and no matter how much he wished it were otherwise, he knew it was going to be inside of this unsuspecting little eevee. She licked up and down the underside of his shaft, kissing at the bulge of his knot when it finally emerged, digging her tongue inside of his sheath to lap at the root of his cock. The purple tinge of the pre he was drooling stood out clearly to Braixen, but apparently not to Eevee; she licked it up and swallowed it down just as quick as he could produce it, not bothering to examine it beforehand. “You taste funny,” Eevee said, though that didn’t stop her from breaking up her sentence by lapping and sucking at the tip of his cock, gulping down every drop of his tainted fluids. “Not spicy, but kinda tingly? Not bad, though.” With visible reluctance, she finally pulled her face away from his cock, purely so that she could climb up on top of him—hindpaws stepping on his balls, churning up the slime inside, drawing a gasp from Braixen’s lips—where she then laid down against his pudgy belly. Her legs were on either side of his cock. He could feel the puffy bulge of her spade pressing against him. “You feel how wet I am?” Eevee said, planting her paws on his shoulders as she pressed herself down, grinding the folds of her cookie against the underside of his dick. He could; he could feel her juices dripping down the sides of his cock, soaking into the fur of his balls, and the feeling of such a needy female against him had him panting with ever-mounting desire. Yet by some miracle, Braixen held out, biting his lip. He knew not a single drop of his seed would ever reach her womb if he mated with her, just a deluge of thick, poisonous sludge. “Grab me and fuck me alreadyyyy,” Eevee whined, humping against him. He could feel her spade burning with need, juicing itself against him. That request was what finally broke his resolve. Letting out a whine as the last of his inhibition was washed away under a wave of both natural and induced need, Braixen grabbed a hold of Eevee’s hips and lifted her up, aligning the tip of his cock with her entrance. “In, in, in,” Eevee whispered excitedly under her breath. Knowing the awful fate he’d be consigning her to by doing so, Braixen conceded to her will, pushing her down and finally sinking himself inside of her. Both let out gasping moans in unison as Eevee was split open and the folds of her spade parted, wrapping around the first third of Braixen’s cock. For Eevee, it was because he was big, the biggest male she’d taken. That size was what had drawn him to her, of course. Mostly those gargantuan, irresistible balls, the mark of a true breeder. For Braixen, it was different. Sure, she was hot, tight, the best he’d ever had. While the feel of her was part of the reason for his reaction, it was mostly due to a sudden, primal need surging within him, unlike anything he’d felt before. More than anything, he needed to [i]seed[/i] this eevee—in spite of the fact that he knew it wasn’t his offspring she’d be pumped full of. He pushed down harder on her hips, sinking even more of his cock inside of her at a rapid pace. Eevee let out a yip as he felt herself split open around him, stretching faster, further, and deeper than she’d ever been before, and he was going deeper still at an accelerating rate. “S-slow down!” Eevee whined, shuddering as she was filled so quickly, so thoroughly, that it was on the verge of being downright painful. Though a good part of her hoped he wouldn’t listen, that he’d go even faster. Which was precisely what Braixen had in mind. Acting with a sudden surge of strength that flew in the face of the weakness he’d felt for so long, Braixen threw himself forward, pinning Eevee on the ground under his body. He threw himself forward, using the new position to drive himself even deeper inside of her, until the bulge of his knot was kissing the lips of her spade. Eevee gasped. She could feel the tip of his dick drive itself against her cervix, threatening entry, demanding access to her deepest reaches. She started to shake, and when he pulled back and gave another thrust, once again [i]slamming[/i] against that final barrier to his progress, she let out a high keen. “Ah, Braixen, please!” Eevee said, forelegs wrapping around his back. “Please, pluh— nngh...” It was unclear as to whether she was begging him to stop or keep going, but it didn’t matter to Braixen. Her desires were irrelevant, all that mattered was that he kept fucking her, kept pushing forward towards that inevitable breeding. He fucked her with short, hard thrusts, panting and grunting atop her while she whined and moaned beneath him. But something occurred to him. A thought and urge, utterly alien, but irresistible, demanding he obey. Braixen slowed his thrusting for a moment, though didn’t stop—he didn’t know if there was a force on the planet that could make him stop completely—and raised himself up slightly, grabbing a hold of Eevee’s chin and tilting it up so he could look into her face. Her cheeks burned with a flush. Her eyes had gone bleary from the force of the fucking she was receiving, and her mouth hung open slightly as she tried to focus on his face. “Whuh...?” Before Eevee could get out a word proper, Braixen pushed forward and locked his muzzle with hers in a kiss. That was an odd thing; kisses weren’t especially common among pokémon, especially among ferals, doubly so among those who weren’t even proper mates. Her eyes widened in surprise. Though that wasn’t from the kiss. That was from the awful tasting sludge that Eevee felt pouring across her tongue, forcing its way up Braixen’s throat and into her mouth. Eevee did a heel turn from eager acceptance into active resistance. She thrashed against the press of Braixen’s body, trying to squirm out from under him, but she was trapped. Her tail was caught under his weighty balls, her hips were kept pinned to the ground by the pound of his own, and his hands had planted themselves on her shoulders. His lips were the last fetter holding her in place, Braixen’s muzzle pushing hard against hers to maintain the kiss and keep the back of her head pinned against the grass. There was more and more slime. Eevee could feel how thick it felt in her mouth, leaving a residue over everything it touched and assaulting her taste buds with the acrid, stinging flavour of chemicals. And more was coming; she didn’t swallow it, refused to swallow it, but it came with a pressure and will of its own, continuing to pack itself into her mouth. Eventually, even her refusing to swallow it didn’t matter. It [i]squirmed[/i] like a living thing and pushed forward, overwhelming her muscles and pushing into her throat. “Mmhhmph!” Eevee tried to let out a noise of protest, but it was completely muffled, and in a few moments, she lost the ability to do even that. It would be hard enough to even breathe with the flood of sludge pouring down her throat, leaving stinging discomfort in every inch of flesh it rolled over, much less make any noise. That stinging quickly faded into nothing, which all the more concerning, as if the stuff were numbing her nerves as it passed, leaving her all the more unable to tell what it was doing to her. All the while, Braixen kept thrusting. He was frantic, knot pounding against her spade, starting to swell as he approached his orgasm. Even as the slime finally reached her stomach and Eevee felt it dropping into her belly in great globs, a steady stream that would no doubt keep filling her and filling her until she was fit to burst, it was clear that all Braixen cared about was mating. Braixen gave one last roll of his hips before his thrusting gave way to a constant pressure, his knot demanding entry at last. Battered into submission, there was no way Eevee could keep it out; her spade began to stretch even wider around the huge bulge at the base of his cock, so it could lock inside her and tie her to this monster that she’d thought a stud. It wound up being how Eevee had one of the worst and most powerful orgasms of her life. Braixen’s knot slid inside her, the puffy folds of her cookie wrapping around the root of his cock. The tip of his dick, having battered her cervix for so long, finally speared through it, coming to rest just inside her womb. She came. Not even all the sludge continuing to pour down her throat, distending her belly, could hold back her release. Her body shook and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her cunt sprayed juices over Braixen’s sheath, muscles milking his cock for everything it was worth. That was enough to set Braixen off as well. His eyes rolled back just the same as hers, and the two of them laid there, utterly lost to pleasure. His knot swelled up, doubling in size and tying them firmly together, before his orgasm finally came. His cock throbbed, internal muscles trying to draw up the seed to pack her womb full, fill her with his eggs. Of course, that seed didn’t come. Instead, the workings of his muscles alerted the grimer inside his balls that it was finally time to mobilize. Rushing up through his internal plumbing, Braixen’s inner workings were suddenly alive with the motions of living slime. He shook like a leaf in the wind; the feeling of such thick slime rushing through him, vas deferens visibly swelling with its passage, would’ve been enough to drive him mad if it wasn’t accompanied by such intense pleasure. It rushed through his cock, stretching it plenty as it passed, before finally exiting him and entering into its final destination. Eevee felt it, the first gout of hot, thick slime bursting forth into her womb, far thicker than any pokémon’s cum ought to have been. And the next throb of his cock, another gush of the stuff. It stung only for the first little bit, then there was nothing but the feeling of pressure building as more and more of that awful slime was packed into her most fertile and precious area. Braixen’s balls were shrinking with each gush of the stuff inside her, a visual indicator of just how much was being pumped inside of her. Dimly, Eevee wondered if she would ever be able to carry eggs again, or if her womb was now fit only for holding toxic sludge. Even though there was still more of the muk remaining inside his belly, the flow of slime through Braixen’s mouth suddenly cut itself short. That was all that was needed, he knew instinctively. Another bit of knowledge was revealed to him alongside that: he wasn’t done. He’d finally stopped cumming, having packed Eevee’s womb so full of slime that it could be seen bulging through her belly, though it was difficult to distinguish from her swollen stomach in much the same condition—but there was still more to do. A sense of urgency began to set in. Even having just cum, a need to mate just as strong as what Braixen had experienced before suddenly burned in his veins, as if a switch had been flicked inside him. He tugged at the knot lodged in Eevee’s cunt, trying to free it. More! More! His balls were still the size of melons, he needed more! With no more slime to deliver, Braixen allowed the kiss to break. If she’d been able to, Eevee would’ve taken the opportunity to scream, but the last of the sludge still travelling down her throat reduced that to a strange gurgle. The feel of him trying to yank his knot free [i]hurt[/i]. It was meant to tie them together, was bigger than a fist; trying to pry it free so early was insanity. It hurt Braixen just as much, but he was motivated by a desire far greater than any pain could suppress. He kept tugging, and against all odds, started to see results. Eevee’s spade was spread wide, looking ridiculous as it was split around the huge bulge of Braixen’s knot. A fully inflated knot—a rare sight, given they were typically lodged in a female. It looked absurdly large at the base of his cock, bigger than anything that ought to be taken. The rest of Braixen’s cock slipped free without effort. Eevee’s cunt was left gaping in the wake of his exit, a trickle of purple slime beginning to drool out of her, as slow and thick as honey. The first drop hadn’t rolled out of her before Braixen positioned the tip of his cock against her tailhole and slammed forward. Both of them screamed together, Eevee out of pain and Braixen just as much so, but his was cut with ecstasy. His refractory period hadn’t been annulled, but rather, it was just being ignored. The tight grip of Eevee’s ass around his shaft was agonizing in its intensity, but he [i]needed[/i] it. It needed to be filled. His cock was slick with Eevee’s juices and the slime he’d just finished pumping into her womb. While the lubrication did nothing to dull the pain of his rapid entry, it did make it go quickly and smoothly. Braixen slid himself into Eevee’s tailhole as quickly as it could stretch to admit him, already feeling the rest of the sludge starting to rise up inside his balls. The bulge of his knot squished against Eevee’s ass, but there was no way it would possibly be able to fit. Thankfully, Braixen didn’t even try. He just laid there against her and let out a loud moan, mingling with a scream from Eevee, as slime surged through him once again and shot into her guts. Eevee had never taken anything in that hole before, and there was no adequate word to describe how utterly alien it felt to not only have someone insert themselves into it, but to have thick sludge pumped into it not a second later. Tears streamed down both of their faces. Braixen shook with such delight that it looked like he was on the cusp of seizure, and his balls began to shrink down at the same time as Eevee’s belly rounded with its new poisonous payload. Eventually, his balls dwindled down to their natural size, and as soon as they did, Braixen felt the artificial pleasure the muk had been pumping into him disappear in an instant. He was himself again, all those unnatural urges having dispersed the moment they’d served their purpose. Clearheaded again, Braixen became keenly aware of just what he had done to the poor eevee underneath him. He stood up in a panic, disgust and horror at what he’d done surging through his mind. Braixen stared down at her. Her belly had swollen to a size that rivalled the rest of her body, almost spherical, packed taut with slime. Twin floods of purple sludge poured out of her gaping cunt and ass, and stains of the stuff were smeared into the fur around her mouth. Her eyes were lidded and vacant. Braixen’s eyes swung from side to side, scanning the treeline, making sure nobody was around to see what he’d just done. Nobody but Eevee, anyway, but Braixen was sure she wouldn’t say anything. A horny thing like her, telling all her potential mates that she’d become a toxic waste dump? She’d wouldn’t tell. He hoped. As he was throwing his head every which way, his eyes glanced across something shiny sitting in the grass. The Thunder Stone, still lying where he’d dropped it, almost completely forgotten in the aftermath of their little tryst. He rushed over and snatched it up, clutching it to his chest. No point in agonizing over what was already done. He had to make the delivery. Not giving Eevee’s bloated form a parting glance, Braixen rushed off, moving far faster now that he’d shed the weight of at least one of his [i]occupants,[/i] and disappeared into the trees. --- Braixen was making much faster progress now, but for as much physical weight as he’d shed, now it was replaced by an even greater mental burden. What was going to become of that eevee, now that he’d turned her into a breeding ground for muk and grimer? What was going to become of him, still serving that same purpose? He placed a hand over his stomach. The grimer that had been in his balls was gone, that much he was sure of. Its telltale writhing was completely absent, the only remaining trace of its presence being the purple tint to all his fluids—something he hoped would eventually fade as his system cleansed itself, and wasn’t a permanent sign of just how thoroughly his body had been tainted. Inside his belly, however, was a different story. There had been two of the things that had taken up residence there, the muk through his mouth, the grimer through the [i]alternative[/i] entrance. The latter was gone, having seen fit to use his guts to multiply before making its exit back at the vat, along with its two new friends. But the muk. Most of it had forced its way up his throat and down Eevee’s throat—most of it. Even with his flat belly, appearing completely normal to even the closest scrutiny, Braixen knew that it wasn’t all. He could still feel some small remainder of it inside, writhing in his insides, occasionally squirming up and down through his guts to different parts of him. What was it doing? Gorging itself, sapping his energy and feeding on his waste—or changing him, warping his body to be more suitable to its own interests and desires? Braixen didn’t want to think about it. Whatever it was doing, it wouldn’t be doing it for long. He’d drop off the Thunder Stone, and then it was right to a pokémon who would be able to purge his body of the foulness that had infected it. As soon as he figured out what sort of pokémon that would be. Hopefully it would all be quick. Braixen didn’t want to give the muk any more time inside his body than it’d already had. He swore he could almost sense its thoughts, biding time and planning its next move. Braixen shuddered to think of what those plans could possibly be.