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That’s it, good boy!” Aldith’s voice was distant, muffled, but dripping with encouragement. “Take your time. Feel her struggle.”
Cynthia kicked wildly, her leather boots scrabbling against the forest floor, digging up moss and dirt. It was futile. Another swallow, a deep, convulsive gulp that pulled her deeper. Her chest was compressed, her breasts flattened against the tight, pulsating esophageal tunnel. Her arms, trapped behind her back, were pressed into the slick walls, completely immobile. She was a prisoner in a living, swallowing tube.
Aldith was helping, guiding. Cynthia could feel hands on her hips, pushing, aligning her body for easier consumption. “Head first, that’s the way,” Aldith cooed to her Pokémon. “A little twist… there. Now, another big gulp for me, Seviper. Let’s see those lovely legs.”
The humiliation was as acute as the fear. She, Cynthia, Champion of Sinnoh, was being hand-fed to a monster like a piece of meat. She pleaded to her god, her mind screaming into the stifling darkness. Arceus! Why?! Why such indignity?! What did I do to deserve this fate?!
Another massive swallow. Her waist was engulfed, the pressure making her gasp. Her pants, another fine garment, strained and soaked. She felt the distinct, heavy lump of her family heirloom necklace—the one passed down from her Celestic ancestors—press painfully into her collarbone.
“Garchomp… Lucario… Spiritomb… Grandma! Steven! Professor Rowan! Dawn!” her mind chanted, a litany of desperation. “Iris! Diantha! Leon! Please, ANYONE?! Gira— ARCEUS!!!”
Outside, Aldith watched with rapturous delight as the champion’s form was steadily consumed. Only Cynthia’s thighs, hips, and legs remained outside, kicking feebly in the cool open air. The sight of those powerful, elegant legs, now reduced to helpless twitching, sent a thrill of power through the grunt.
“Look at you,” Aldith mocked, running a hand over the growing, human-shaped bulge in Seviper’s throat.
