Running and reflecting

You run for a good three or four minutes, sailing past the T junction and heading East, before you allow yourself to slow down and consider yourself safe. That was terrifying! You had no doubt that this man could have easily defeated your Charmander and turned you into a shudder human urinal for his girlfriend. Or sister. Or whoever she is.

You don't want to lose your anal virginity today, but with your extra clean and lubricated asshole, you're prepared for it if it comes to that. However getting pissed on is something else entirely. You cringe just thinking about anyone's urine getting involved in their sexual pleasure.

When you start to think about what **** extents the trainers who defeat women are allowed to **** and mistreat them, you feel angry and frustrated. This is why there are so few female Pokemon trainers. Even if only 5% of the trainers who defeat you decide to be extra-nasty, that's still a one in twenty chance of an awful and potentially distressing time each time you're defeated. And then add on to that the compounding issue that once you're defeated, you're free fuckmeat for any trainer who encounters you before you can revive your Pokemon or return to civilization. And they might not need to stumble upon you. They might be part of a group, and already be patiently waiting in line for their turn.

You've always known you want to be a Pokemon Trainer. Ever since you learned about your father's dreams, tragically cut short, you knew you want to make them your own. And you were of course warned by your mother about the forfeits. But... Your mother is a shy, reserved soul, and so your warnings were very sugar-coated and never explicit. Rather than being told in no uncertain terms that there would be a real possibility of unkind men forcing you to take part in all-night hardcore gangbangs with little to no regards for your comfort or happiness, you instead just listened to awkward mutterings about how being a female Pokemon trainer meant dealing with 'overexcited young men' who 'only want one thing' from you, which 'sometimes might not be so fun'.

But you'd seen porn, so you had been able to put two and two together and conclude that men would be claiming sex from you when you lost. You'd even seen, over the shoulder of male classmates, a couple of videos that were circulating between male social groups, of defeated female trainers squealing with shame as they were recorded engaging in their forfeit sex. It's just been particularly bad luck for you, and the women a couple of years older than you, that technology has recently advanced to the point where everyone's portable devices are capable of capturing high quality video, and some new networking technology has been implemented that allows people to effortlessly share the videos they take with their contacts.

When the rules and laws surrounding the defeat of female Pokemon trainers were established, it was assumed that the humiliating sessions would only be witnessed by those there at the time - which unless it was a gym leader challenge or large tournament, usually wasn't too many people, since battles aren't allowed in towns and cities outside of specially designated zones. But over the last decade, we've gone from singular printouts of grainy photos of battle forfeits that are owned by a single person, to instantly sharable, high-definition video footage of a female Pokemon trainer's most shameful and often most distressing moments. You feel like it's been bad for trainers like yourself, who in an ideal world would not have your lowest moments so crisply immortalized and shared around, and also it's been bad for men's attitudes towards women in general.

You don't have a huge problem with mainstream porn that you buy in the shop - there's porn of guys being dominated available as well, so it doesn't singularly sexualize women in the same way - but all this new quasi-involuntary porn of female Pokemon trainers' defeats is completely focused on the degradation of women. And since the direct messages people are sending each other are completely unmoderated, it's just a filthy breeding ground of further unfiltered sexism. Young men around the region, and probably around the world, are able to digitally validate each other's most **** views about how women should be viewed and treated.

The irony is, of course, that as trainers become more and more emboldened to be cruel to the female trainers, they inadvertently discourage more and more women from becoming trainers, making them even more rare. There's definitely less female trainers around today than there were 10 years ago, you reflect.

Your heart is pulled in two different directions - you want to be a role model for future prospective female trainers, and prove that they can still make it from the bottom to the top in this big bad world. But you also don't know if you are prepared for what that likely entails will happen before you get there. Or rather, if you get there. You might get knocked up, or lose all will to continue, before that happens.

In any case, the threat of that awful mutual degradation video you made with Belle being shared around makes retirement not an option for now. You'd rather have 20 videos of you being fucked into submission get sent directly to your mother, rather than people see that one video of you being so twisted and perverse with a fellow young woman, and pretending to love it.

Bo and Baz have really got exactly what they wanted after all.

You shiver, hoping you'll never meet them again.

And then to your dismay, your pussy tingles, as if to gently remind you of the euphoric delight you experienced thank to Baz's magnificent cock.

Perhaps there is one tiny small part of you that hopes to meet them again.

You wonder if Belle feels the same way.

It's that this moment that you realize that it's been at least a couple of minutes that you've been standing here, thinking about things, and Belle still hasn't caught up.

What if...

You quickly hustle back towards the west. As much as you don't want to be a urinal today, you're not leaving your friend behind.

As you progress back towards the crossroads, you can start to hear faint noises. You can't tell what they are, but they're loud and far away. Perhaps a battle. You take Charmander's Pokeball into your hand, ready for anything.

Ten seconds later, you can hear that there's definitely a Pokemon battle happening to the west. Ten seconds closer, and you can hear the sound of a Pikachu... And yes there's Belle's voice shouting "Thundershock!"

You're back at the crossroads now, and about to keep going, when you're interrupted by a voice from the south - a man is calling out to you from the path you first came up.

You turn and look to see who's there.

The man is young, but chubby and scruffy. He is wearing a plain white top and three-quarter-length shorts that both are covered with food stains and look like he hasn't washed or changed in days. He's hot-footing it up to your location... Which isn't actually very fast. He's clearly not the athletic type. But still, he's not too far away, and his calls of "Hey! Wait!" seem pretty urgent, so you find yourself waiting awkwardly for the fifteen seconds it takes him to reach you.

"What? What is it?!" You ask impatiently, the sounds of Belle's Pokemon battle still sounding loudly down the western path.

He's panting heavily - it takes him several moments to gather enough oxygen in his lungs to get any words out. This gives you plenty of time to look him up and down - he looks like a typical nerd - thick unfashionable classes, no interest in self-care, hygiene, or grooming, and painfully unfit. All in all, a total loser, from your perspective.

"I, I, um, you know." He gestures towards one hand repeatedly towards you and then back towards him.

"You WHAT?" You are **** to go catch up to your friend, and this is taking way too long.

"You've got to, um, yeah." He offers, uselessly.

"WHAT IS IT?!" At this point you don't think it's a problem with how much he's out of breath - he just seems so socially incompetent that he's struggling to bring himself to communicate clearly.

"Sorry, it's just that you're so... uh... pretty, and..." He very clearly eyes up the condoms dangling from your shorts. "And so experienced... And... er... this is gulp my first time. With a lady."

Wait... Does he...

"So, um, yeah."

Is the urgent thing he was trying to get your attention for... That you STOPPED and allowed him to catch up to you for... Is it...

"I, um, I challenge you to a Pokemon Battle."

Oh fuck.