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Hypnorgasm
>> #381327
Posted on 2020-08-10 08:01:11
Score: 2 (vote Up)
Story by commissioner KoalaRobot:
The two heroes had a gravely important task. One that was desperately forced onto them. A prophecy sort of task.

Once the Celebi spoke of a future where the Dewott and the Quilava triumphed over the dark lord Giratina and returned peace to the ravaged lands of the Tirano region, the two heroes-to-be had been sent off on a perilous journey to save the world. With the promise of salvation lying in two earnest, brave adventurers, hope was returning to the world.

Needless to say, the expectations were intense. The fate of the Pokemon world rested on their shoulders like an iron press. The rest of history would be doomed to darkness if a simple Dewott and Quilava could not manage to take down this despicable evil.

For several months, the two trained their hardest. Every day, and every night. Preparing their meager little bodies for the coming storm. Saving up money to buy the finest of equipment and instructors. Starting their practice simplest of enemies, working their way up to harder, and harder foes. Gathering intel about the dark lord’s generals, and the weaknesses of each. They were prepared. They were ready.

They learned of a very minor general in the dark lord’s army. A demonic, red Gengar with a slight influence over the mind and a fear of swords. After deliberating about it for about half an hour, the two agreed to make the devil their first target. They searched for him over the course of several days, through empty valleys and tainted swamplands, finally discovering him in the middle of a dead, hollow forest, much akin to a witch.

He was a bright, glowing, shiny red. With a giant, shitfaced grin and a confident, domineering gait to him. Unphased by the presence of Dewott’s sword. He seemed rather eager to be in the presence of such valiant heroes. The first thing Quilava noticed was how fuzzy he felt, staring at the creature’s belly. The way it would just jiggle, and bounce around, glimmering against the moonlight. That thick, stretchy, wide open monster of a cock.

It intrigued him so much, he didn’t even notice that his partner was already in a heated bout with the demon, aggressively striking at the incredibly hot, evil beast of a Pokemon. What are you doing?! Shouted the Dewott. Help me, Quilava!

But Quilava was distracted. All of his focus had loaded onto that dirty, open armpit. How easily he could fall to the ground and rest his eyes into that fat, open hole on the Gengar’s arm. As Dewott’s blade was broken into a million pieces, the Quilava thought about how easy it would be to just stroke his dick as he worshipped the devil as his evil master. But… he couldn’t. He had such an important quest. And the weight of the world was on him.

And it’s just so much weight, isn’t it?

Quilava agreed. It really was a lot of weight.

Don’t you want to let it go?

But he couldn’t. That would be wrong.

But you want to.

…

It would be so easy. Just try resting your head against it.

Quilava gazed into that armpit with starstruck wonder. It was so close to his head. If he pressed even a little bit, he’d be damning himself.

And freeing yourself from your burden.

...The desire was so powerful. It pushed him forward. Through the regret. The shame. The pure degeneracy he felt as the wet, slick, smelly meat wrapped around his face, his cock so sensitive to the firm grim of his fuzzy hand. Completely dominated. Made a fool of. His heroic qualities completely stripped away from him as Dewott watched in astonishment.

It’s okay. Submitting to the darkness takes bravery, my minion.

Submitting… to the darkness… but he wasn’t a minion. He was a hero. The hero. But it gave him comfort knowing he could so easily forgo his quest for the sake of servitude. He didn’t have to save the world. He could just give up, right here.

Give into evil.

The Dewott was feverishly shouting at him. But he wasn’t listening. He was too focused on the voice in his head. And the voice in his head whispered such sweet, calming suggestions. Suggestions that he couldn’t help but comply with.

Evil is really hot.

“Evil… hot…” he muttered. It felt so good to give up his responsibility to the demon. Suddenly, it felt so good that the world was steeped in darkness. It was right. How boring would it be to get rid of this… this wonderful, corrupt, wasteland, filled with dark, brooding forests, and heavy, mucky swamplands? A world ridden with powerful, confident, shadowy masters, having lowly creatures such as himself to do their every bidding, completely submissive, free of responsibility.

Worship your master.

The Gengar was so irresistibly, moaningly desirable. His sense of dominance, his confidence, his gaze of superiority made Quilava feel a certain kind of warm and happy on the inside, the way he hadn’t felt since he was a child. And spilling his seed all over his master’s legs felt so relaxing. He was in his rightful place. And this was his way of showing his lovely, sexy, powerful master his affection. His inclination to servitude. Because he was going to behave. He was an obedient little minion.

---

There was still hope left! Dewott hadn’t given in! He just... had to ignore the way his pants had unapologetically tightened around his dick. It shouldn’t have been doing that! This was wrong. This was horrible. This was catastrophic. He didn’t belong to this midboss of a general! He wasn’t like his partner, and he wouldn’t give in so easily! He had a duty! To submit! No!

As he glanced at his eager partner, his eyes glazed to the cum, which led him to that monster of a cock. He did not have carnal feelings. He was raised right. Always behaving, doing the right thing, acting as he was told. So it would be okay for him to give in, just a little bit, just once, wouldn’t it? It’s not like it would ruin his quest! Just a taste, a taste of the darkness, that’s it!

It would be so easy, just a little taste.
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