Kale the Sneasel

(Content Warning! This first chapter contains a scene. While the rest of the story is less intense, This could be a bit much for some. Feel free to skip ahead if need be.)
(P.S. Thanks to CasketCat for saving this old storyline from the bowels of Writing.com and allowing me to continue it all these years later! Thanks bud~)

It's purple needles glisten in the dew brought on by a new morning. The stem strong and defiant of the breeze that causes it to waves before your eyes. As you stare at the thistle through teary eyes, your share with it a calming, though brief, silence. The peaceful moment is shattered as another vicious thrust elicits a yelp from your lips. You look through one eye to the left to see your shoulder still pinned to the ground underneath the Weavile's clawed hand. You feel his other clamped at your side, holding you still for his pleasures. His hips drive hard into yours, stealing another pained groan from your battered form.

"Hah... hnngg... ahhh..." You hear your assailant pant, lacking any form of sympathy or grace. You close your eyes, prompting the tears collected, to stream down your face. The Weavile notices your pitiful demeanor and gives you another hard pump before halting his , still deep inside your abused rump.

"Come now, "Kale"..." the Vile Pokémon hisses in your ear, "I thought you would enjoy losing your innocence to a strapping male like myself!"

"S-stop... Please, Rahk... Let me..", You sob.

"Not a chance, slut!", He interrupts wickedly. You feel his sharp razor clawed fingers slide up your torso as he continues, "You will please me...", The claw scraps under your form and up your chest, "... Or you will feel no more..." As he finishes, he firmly holds your neck with his hand, gently squeezing the tips of his clawed digits against your flesh. You whimper under the dominant male and rest your wet gaze back on the lone thistle, forcing yourself to focus on nothing else. It dances before you in the wind as you feel the pulsing tool inside you begin to slide back out.

"It's time to finished what I started." Rahk says, more to himself than to you. You aren't listening, however, paying attention only to the swaying flower. The sudden shock of Rahk's brutal thrust steals your breathe and causes you to cry out.