It's back is turned! Charge an Ice Punch!

Got a little cocky...

The shock of the sudden appearance of this beast is slow to abate, your twitching legs frozen to the boardwalk. The vibrations from another heavy step reach you as another pitiful groan emanates from the shattered door. Your will returns as that last cry from Arro shakes you from your stress induced stupor. As you think of what this infected has planned for him, your fear is burned away with a building anger. What’s more, that stupid feral thinks so little of you that it dares turn it’s back on you? You grit your teeth, sucking in air between your fangs, and begin to funnel your rage toward the knuckles of your right hand.
The Quagsire, completely oblivious to anything other than its whining snack, continues to stalk toward the fallen Vaporeon. It has gotten worryingly close to Arro now and still your friend seems unable to free himself of the wood scraps. Despite these fears screaming at you to act, you’re able to **** them aside and focus on the bitter cold growing within your clenched fist. Jagged ice begins to crystalize, quickly hardening over your bristling fur. Just as the infected stops before the pile of lumber fragments, you feel the new weight encasing your paw and lunge forward.

You close the gap separating you from your target in less than 2 seconds, releasing a heavy right hook at the Quagsire as it bends to grasp at Arro. So focused on it’s soon to be morsel, it never even notices your approach. Your frosted fist lands a clean strike across its exposed cheek, shattering and sending the ice particles scattering across the pier. The **** of the hit is enough to stagger the Quagsire, causing it to stumble a few steps to the right of the trapped Vaporeon.

You press the attack, keeping step with your quarry all the while, and follow your punch with a kick as you jump the door. Your second blow finds its mark, sinking into the feral’s generous gut and earning a pained growl from it as you land squarely between the infected and Arro. Those soulless eyes, now burning with rage, slowly rise to meet your hazel glare. Standing to it’s full height once more, the Quagsire easily towers over you. With the element of surprise lost, you decide brute **** has had its moment, instead choosing to prepare for the ferals expected rebuttal.

The sound of shifting wood from behind tells you that Arro’s begun to free himself. Armed with the knowledge that you’d soon have an ally in this fight, you allow yourself a small grin, your eyes never leaving the Quagsire. This slight gesture is not lost on your opponent as he releases a furious roar, obviously irked by your newfound confidence. The predictable charge comes and you ready yourself for the dodge.

Knowing that you’ve more than enough time to avoid the tackle, you shoot a wry wink at the enraged feral as it nears. It’s not a moment later that you jump to the side, daring the slow water-type to give chase. You are indeed quite puzzled when the mammoth pokemon continues right by you, completely ignoring the bait. It then heaves its bulk into the air, limbs spread wide. Your horrible mistake is realized all too late.

Just as Arro manages one last shove against the shattered debris, fully freeing himself as last, his vision is eclipsed by the airborne mass of blubber falling toward him. “Wha-!!”, is all he manages before the sickening impact buries the poor Vaporeon beneath the wobbly belly flesh. The shock of the body slam is enough to shake the nearby boards violently, causing you to lose your footing, and leaving you prone.

You don’t take much damage from the fall, but as your eyes come upon the result of your arrogance, you grimace all the same. Before you lay splayed out across the boardwalk is the Quagsire, With only Arro’s tail frantically thrashing up between the infects legs. The feral happily wobbles side to side You scrabble to your feet as you witness a change in the Quagsire’s smug expression. It would appear that Arro’s flailing appendage has done little more than to amuse the overgrown fish, as indicated by a low, pleasured exhale. To your horror, you see the feral begin to rock back and forth atop your struggling friend, each dry hump punctuated by a lustful moan.

Sickened by the thought of what might be pinning the Vaporeon to the pier, you begin a reckless sprint toward the Quagsire, intent on ending its vile play. As you draw near from the left, you jump into the air, thinking to land a staggering blow to the side of the deviant infected. The Quagsire has other plans. With surprising agility, it rolls off a mortified looking Vaporeon, now laying on its side with its foot and a half long member throbbing and its smooth, blue cheeks bulging.

With no way to alter your course in midair, you take the water blast straight to the chin, its **** flipping you before having you crash to the wood. With what little momentum remains of your lunge, you skid forward on your back toward Arro, coming to a shaky halt just inches before colliding with him. Through black splotches, you peer at the aforementioned Vaporeon and are dismayed to find him weakly gasping for air. Knowing he’ll be of no use for this fight, you begin to struggle to your knees.

The Quagsire proves to be the quicker, simply reaching over Arro’s groaning, ‘Fluid’ smeared form and locking a tight hand paw around one of your wrists. The realization that you’ve been caught by this lewd creature reignites your struggles as you feel yourself being pulled closer to it. Your meager efforts are in vain, however, as the much stronger feral easily drags you over the incapacitated body of your friend, bringing you face to face with that thick, pink cock.

Instinctively you try to use your free hand to push the musky flesh away as it flops about in front of you. Unfortunately, this only serves to allow the feral a chance at grasping your other wrist before pulling you tight against the pre-spewing rod. You cringe as you are **** against the slickened erection, your whimpers serving only to amuse the Quagsire as he begins to hump himself across your chest and face. As you are thoroughly coated with the thick fluid, you desperately look back to Arro, disheartened to see he hasn’t budged from the crater this ferals belly flop had created.

At last, you feel the torturous thrusting halt and one of the grasping hands leave your wrist before immediately finding a new hold atop your head. Opening your eyes to see what fresh humiliation awaits, you are similarly disgusted to find the tip of the cockhead twitching just inches from your muzzle. Looking up to the infected water-type, you see that smug grin once again, angering you further.

Defiantly, you cry out, “I’m not going to suck your dick!” Pulling hard at the ferals iron grip. “You can just forg-Ggghhmm!” Your protests are ignored by your captor as the sudden pressure on the back of your head plunges your face right into the pre soaked hole of the cock tip. A long, breathy moan is heard from above as another push has you shutting your eyes as your muzzle is taken in its entirety. You thrash violently with all of your free limbs, the thought of what’s to come sends waves of dread crashing over you.

This matters little to the far more powerful Quagsire, a pleasurable thrust stealing your light and fully encompassing your head. “Mmm! Mmmrrrpphh!!” Is all you can manage against the vicelike grip of the cockflesh as it slurps up your neck and shoulders. It’s not long before your arms are pressed tight to your sides, leaving only your torso and legs kicking pathetically. The pressure on your head lessens as you feel your face pop into a larger chamber, allowing you to take a miserable gasp of musky air. Your waist slips into the cockhead, briefly tickling your sheath, before it hungrily claims your hips, thighs, and then legs, leaving only your wiggling paws on display at the end of the bulging penis.

Eager to be done with the minor annoyance your disruption had caused, the tapered penis pulls hard one last time, claiming your footpaws and forcing you to curl up in the cramped chamber. The air, already heavy with musk, provides your weakening struggles with little oxygen. Dizziness begins to steal your perception, only allowing you to feel the smooth walls of your prison and the ever growing pool of cum churning below you. It’s not long before you feel your muscles go limp and your mind begins to numb, allowing you some measure of escape from your troubles. The gentle swaying of the heavy sack lulls you into unconsciousness, a satisfied exhale reverberating around you.

Unbeknownst to your limp form, the Quagsire revels in its most recent capture. The feral eagerly rubs at its erection, drunk on its own lurid thoughts of what its now low hanging balls have in store for you. Though you’ve no wherewithal to notice it, the rising pool of jizz begins to claim your submerged bits, only hastening its rise. Within moments, your head dips below the surface of white essence, fated to become nothing more than an addition to its brewers next load…

Having felt the churning of its foolish prey slow, the Quagsire begins to work at its drooling length in earnest. He’d likely have finished with its business in short order had it not been for another pained groan to his side stealing his attention. There the infected spies the battered Vaporeon on all fours, futilely attempting to drag itself to safety. That unsteady pair of hips unintentionally sway before the Quagsire, a depraved smirk crossing his face as another idea of where to send his cock snack forms.

Arro, winded and broken from witnessing the demise of his latest guest, thinks only to put some distance between himself as the vile infected, perhaps giving him the slightest of chances to recover. This hope is dashed when he feels the tight grip of a slimy handpaw lock around the tip of his tail. Looking back, the Quagsire's schemes made plain by the dripping member it has lined up with the Vaporeon's backside. As the slow but deliberate pull on his appendage begins, Arro is horrified to feel himself slipping back toward that perverted feral and its devious intent. Whatever thoughts of escape he held are lost as his pre-coated limbs can’t find purchase against the unforgivingly smooth boardwalk. His last **** attempt and freeing his tail takes the form of weakly swatting at the iron grip, the sensation of that warm flesh making contact with his deep blue pucker spurring him on all the harder.

The corrupted fish, tired of the ceaseless resistance to its desire, roughly grabs the offending hand of the Vaporeon, and in one powerful motion, topples forward. This effectively pins Arro's hand behind his back and has the added result of forcing him into an embarrassing position, rump **** up high and left exposed to the dark whims of his aggressor. With no room to budge and little energy left to tap, the aquatic eeveelution pitifully ends his struggles with a whimper.

Content with his newfound toy going limp in his hands, the cruel Quagsire leans forward, fully coated member easily slipping into the tight entrance of the smaller male. In no mood for further delay, he thrusts powerfully, nearly burying all 18 inches of himself into the mewling pokemon beneath him. Paying the cries of protest from the object of his affection no mind, the feral begins to work his throbbing shaft back and forth, eager to put his Sneasel imbued seed to good use.

Arro can do naught but whine and beg for mercy as the thrusts begin to pick up in pace as well as ferocity. The shame of being taken so off guard coupled with the utter humiliation of his current state might be enough to draw tears had it not been for a third emotion slowly eclipsing the others. It started as the feeling of weakness, of being unable to affect the outcome of his miserable situation. It was then one of acceptance, of simply allowing his tired body a modicum of rest by letting the perverted feral use him as it saw fit. Finally, with those last few ball slapping humps stealing lewd gasps from his lips, it was one of pure bliss.

Arro tried to deny it at first, the shock of his realization being almost too much to bare. However, the stiffened member swinging below him with abandon did little to assuage his worries. It was only after that final, violent thrust locked him hip to hip with his violator that he knew the truth, his own desire to let go…

The orgasm hit hard, causing a growing bulge to form in the Vaporeon's hanging stomach, his own cries of ecstasy drowned out by the roar of the one who claimed him. The sensation of the filling was enough to send him over his own peak, a far smaller spew to be lost within the stream now pouring from his abused backside. As the moments ticked by, the flow eventually subsiding, Arro was released and allowed to plop down atop his engorged belly. He barely registered the last few lines shot across his back, the thoroughly satisfied feral rolling to the side and enjoying its own afterglow. The last coherent thought that passed within Arro’s quickly succumbing mind was the ironic realization that Kale had just wound up in the same place he very narrowly avoided just a day prior…