Team Galactic Grunts

Out came two Team Galactic Grunts, their eyes scanning the room with a mixture of confusion and alarm. They were dressed in their standard black uniforms, their faces obscured by their helmets. The young trainer's eyes snapped towards them, his penis still lodged in Cynthia's mouth. He froze, his body tense with surprise and fear.

Cynthia's eyes locked onto the Grunts, a surge of hope rising up in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, these newcomers could save her from this nightmare. She tried to pull away from the young trainer, but his grip on her head remained firm.

The Grunts took a step forward, their eyes fixed on the young trainer.

The young trainer's eyes darted wildly between the two Grunts, his mind racing with panic. He knew he had to act fast, or risk being caught in the act. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he yanked his penis out of Cynthia's mouth and turned to make a hasty retreat. Cynthia's eyes followed him, her gaze filled with a mix of relief and disgust.

The young trainer's feet pounded against the floor as he sprinted towards the nearest hiding spot, a small alcove in the wall just a few feet away. He dove into the shadows, his chest heaving with exertion, and held perfectly still, hoping to remain unnoticed.

The Grunts' eyes widened in surprise as they took in the sight of Cynthia's naked body, their gazes lingering on her curves before snapping back to her face. One of them, seemingly the leader, cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice firm but laced with a hint of uncertainty. "What are we going to do with the naked Champion?" he asked, his eyes darting towards the alcove where the young trainer had hidden.

The other Grunt shrugged, his helmet glinting in the dim light of the room. "I don't know, but we can't just leave her here like this." He glanced around the room, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger or witnesses.

The Grunt's gaze lingered on Cynthia's body, his eyes scanning her curves before finally coming to rest on the apex of her thighs. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of her wet pussy, a look of surprise crossing his face. He seemed to be frozen in place, his gaze fixed on her most intimate area.

The other Grunt followed his gaze, his eyes also widening in surprise. "Looks like she enjoyed it," he said, his voice low and gravelly. The leader Grunt shot him a warning glance, but the other Grunt just shrugged.

Cynthia's face burned with shame and humiliation as she realized what the Grunts were looking at.

The Grunt's eyes seemed to gleam with a newfound excitement as he took a step closer to Cynthia, his gaze still fixed on her wet pussy. His hand instinctively went to his crotch, and he began to fumble with his pants, his fingers working to undo the zipper. The sound of the zipper sliding down seemed to echo through the room, and Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen.

The Grunt's pants fell to the ground, revealing his erect penis, which seemed to be straining with anticipation. He took another step closer to Cynthia, his eyes locked onto hers, and his hands reached out to grab her hips.

The Grunt's hands closed around Cynthia's hips like a vice, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer. She tried to struggle, but her body felt heavy and unresponsive, as if it was trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn't awaken. The Grunt's penis bobbed up and down, its tip grazing her stomach as he positioned himself for entry. Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she realized she was about to be fuck by this stranger.

The Grunt's face was inches from hers, his breath hot and rank as he panted with excitement.

The Grunt's lips curled into a cruel smile as he pushed himself forward, his penis entering Cynthia's body with a sudden, violent thrust. Cynthia's eyes widened in pain and shock, her body stiffening as she felt him fill her up.

The Grunt's thrusts were rough and unyielding, his body slamming into hers with a **** that made her gasp for breath. She could feel him deep inside her, his penis rubbing against her most sensitive spots, and she hated it.

The Grunt':s thrusts became more frantic, his body slamming into hers with increased intensity. He let out a low grunt, his face reddening as he strained towards his orgasm. Cynthia felt a surge of revulsion as she realized he cum inside her.

And then, without warning, he pulled out, his penis slipping out of her with a wet, slick sound. Cynthia's body felt empty, and she couldn't help but feel a momentary sense of relief.

Cynthia's momentary sense of relief was short-lived, as the Grunt's hands closed around her wrists like a vice. He pulled her arms behind her back, and she felt a cold, metallic object being wrapped around her wrists. The sound of clicking metal echoed through the room as the Grunt secured the handcuffs, the chains biting into her skin.

Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she realized she was now completely at the Grunt's mercy. She tried to struggle, but her arms were pinned behind her back, leaving her helpless. The Grunt's face was inches from hers, his breath hot and rank as he panted with excitement.

The Grunt's hands closed around Cynthia's hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, and whispered, "You're going to be our little champion slut, aren't you?" His voice sent shivers down her spine, and she felt a wave of revulsion wash over her.

The Grunt's hands moved to her back, and she felt a cold, metallic object being pressed against her skin. She realized, with a start, that it was a marker, and the Grunt was writing on her back. The sensation was strange, the marker gliding smoothly over her skin as the Grunt wrote out the words "Champion Slut" As the Grunt finished writing, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, a cruel smile spreading across his face. Cynthia felt a surge of humiliation and shame as she realized she was now branded with a degrading label. The Grunt's eyes seemed to gleam with excitement as he took in the sight of the words scrawled across her back.

The Grunt's gaze lingered on the words for a moment before he reached out and grasped Cynthia's hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer. She tried to struggle, but her arms were still pinned behind her back by the handcuffs, leaving her helpless.

The Grunt's marker glided across Cynthia's skin, the cool ink leaving a trail of humiliation as he wrote out the words "Spank me!" on her left buttock. The marker strokes were bold and confident, the letters sprawling across her skin like a brand. Cynthia felt a surge of shame as she realized the Grunt was marking her like a piece of property.

The Grunt's hand moved to her right buttock, the marker poised over her skin as he wrote out the words "Free Use!" in bold letters. An arrow pointed towards her pussy, the ink glistening in the light as the Grunt finished his handiwork.

The Grunt's eyes seemed to gleam with excitement as he took in the sight of the words scrawled across Cynthia's back. He reached out and grasped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her closer. She tried to struggle, but her arms were still pinned behind her back by the handcuffs, leaving her helpless.

The Grunt's hand moved to her mouth, his fingers closing around her jaw like a vice. He **** her mouth open, his thumb pressing against her tongue as he pushed a ball gag into her mouth. The rubber was cool and smooth against her tongue, and Cynthia felt a surge of panic as she realized she was being silenced.

The Grunt's grip on Cynthia's hips tightened as he pulled her towards the door, his fingers digging deep into her skin. She stumbled forward, her legs struggling to keep up with the Grunt's pace. The ball gag in her mouth made her feel like an animal, and she couldn't help but wonder what other humiliations lay in store for her.

As they reached the door, the Grunt pushed it open with a flourish, revealing the bright sunlight and bustling streets of the Pokémon Center. Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she realized she was about to be paraded in front of the very people she had sworn to protect.

The Grunt's hand closed around her wrist, pulling her out into the sunlight.

As the Grunt pulled Cynthia out into the sunlight, she felt a wave of heat wash over her, making her skin prickle with sweat. The bright light was almost blinding, and she squinted, trying to shield her eyes with her shoulder. But it was no use - she was completely at the mercy of the Grunt, who was now dragging her across the crowded plaza outside the Pokémon Center.

People of all ages and species milled about, going about their daily business, completely oblivious to Cynthia's humiliation. The Grunt seemed to be savoring every moment of this, his grip on her wrist tightening as he pulled her through the throngs of people.

As the Grunt dragged Cynthia through the crowded plaza, she stumbled, her bare feet scraping against the rough stone pavement. The Grunt's grip on her wrist tightened, his fingers digging deep into her skin as he pulled her upright. Cynthia's eyes darted wildly around, taking in the faces of the people passing by. Some of them glanced at her, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and disdain, while others looked away, pretending not to see the naked, handcuffed woman being paraded through the streets.

As Cynthia is being dragged through the crowded plaza, she sees that people are starting to take notice of her. Some of them are whispering to each other, pointing and laughing at her naked, handcuffed form. Others are taking out their phones, recording her humiliation.

One person, a young woman with long, dark hair, stops in her tracks as she sees Cynthia being paraded through the plaza. She looks at Cynthia with a mixture of shock and pity, and Cynthia feels a surge of gratitude towards her. But then the woman pulls out her phone, holding it up to record the scene.

The woman's eyes locked onto Cynthia's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Cynthia felt a pang of desperation, hoping that this stranger would somehow intervene, would somehow put an end to this humiliation. But the woman's expression didn't change, and she continued to record the scene, her phone held up like a tiny, unblinking eye.

The Grunt pulled Cynthia forward, his grip on her wrist tightening as he dragged her through the crowd. People parted to let them through, their faces a blur of curiosity and disgust. Cynthia's bare feet scraped against the pavement, her legs trembling with fear and exhaustion.

As the Grunt pulled Cynthia forward, she heard the first whisper. It was a soft, mocking voice, but it was loud enough for her to make out the words. "Champion Slut," the voice said, the words dripping with malice. Cynthia's heart sank, and she felt a surge of shame wash over her. She tried to look around, to see who had spoken, but the Grunt's grip on her wrist was too tight, and she was **** to keep moving.

The whisper seemed to be the spark that ignited the crowd. More and more people began to call out, their voices growing louder and more confident. "Champion Slut!" they chanted, the words echoing off the buildings.

As they moved through the crowd, Cynthia saw more and more people recording her humiliation, their phones held up like tiny, unblinking eyes. She felt like an animal in a zoo, a specimen on display for the amusement of the crowd.

The Grunt's voice boomed through the crowded plaza, echoing off the buildings as he pulled Cynthia to a stop in front of a makeshift stage. "You, Champion Slut, wants you!" he bellowed, his words dripping with malice. "Who wants to take on her? 150 Pokémon Dollars, a small price to pay for infamous Cynthia!"

The Grunt's words hung heavy in the air, and Cynthia felt a chill run down her spine. She looked around, her eyes pleading with the crowd for help, but all she saw were faces twisted in cruel delight. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. She had been a champion, a hero to these people, and now she was being paraded around like a piece of meat.

The Grunt's words seemed to spark a frenzy in the crowd, as people began to surge forward, eager to take advantage of the offer. A queue quickly formed, with men and women alike clamoring to get to the front. Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she watched, her mind struggling to comprehend the depravity of the scene unfolding before her.

The first person in line, a burly man with a cruel grin spreading across his face, stepped forward and handed the Grunt a wad of cash. The Grunt took the money, his eyes glinting with greed, and nodded to the man. "You can have five minutes with her," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

The burly man's eyes lit up with excitement as he stepped forward, his massive paws of hands reaching out to claim his prize. Cynthia's eyes widened in terror as she realized what was about to happen, her mind racing with **** thoughts of escape. But it was too late, the man's hands closed around her breasts like vice grips, his fingers digging deep into her tender flesh.

Cynthia's body arched back in agony as the man's fingers pinched and twisted her nipples, his cruel grin spreading even wider across his face. She tried to cry out, but the ball gag in her mouth muffled her screams, reducing them to mere muffled whimpers.

The man's fingers continued to twist and pinch Cynthia's nipples, sending waves of agony coursing through her body. She tried to squirm away, but the Grunt's grip on her wrist remained firm, holding her in place. The man's grin grew even wider as he leaned in, his hot breath washing over Cynthia's face. She could smell the stench of his sweat and the faint tang of Pokémon food on his breath.

As the man's fingers continued to torment her, Cynthia felt a warm trickle of urine spreading down her leg. She was mortified, but she couldn't help it. The pain and humiliation were too much to bear.

The man's fingers finally released their grip on Cynthia's nipples, and he stepped back, a satisfied smirk still plastered on his face. The Grunt, who had been watching the scene with great interest, nodded in approval and held up his hand, signaling the next person in line to step forward.

As the next person, a scrawny-looking man with a nervous expression, hesitantly approached Cynthia, the Grunt turned to the crowd and boomed out, "We've made a total of 5450 Pokémon Dollars so far, and we're not even halfway through the line! Who's next?"

The crowd erupted into cheers and chants, with some people shouting out bids and others calling out insults at Cynthia.

The Grunt's voice boomed through the crowded plaza once again, "Whos next?!" he shouted, his eyes scanning the crowd. A few people stepped forward, eager to take their turn with Cynthia. The Grunt pointed to a tall, muscular man with a mean-looking scar running down his cheek. The man stepped forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

The Grunt took the money, his eyes glinting with greed, and nodded to the man. "You can have five minutes with her," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

The muscular man's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as he stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Cynthia's battered body. He reached out a hand and grasped a black marker that the Grunt handed him, its tip glinting in the sunlight. With a flourish, he began to write on Cynthia's stomach, the ink flowing smoothly across her skin.

The crowd watched in rapt attention as the man wrote, their faces twisted with cruel grins. Cynthia's eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening, her mind racing with despair. The man finished writing and stepped back, admiring his handiwork.

The muscular man with the scar stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Cynthia's naked body. He cracked his knuckles, a cruel smile spreading across his face. The Grunt handed him the leash attached to Cynthia's handcuffs, and the man gave it a rough tug, making Cynthia stumble forward.

As the man reached out to claim his prize, the Grunt held up a marker and wrote on Cynthia's forehead in bold, black letters: "Slut" . The crowd erupted into cheers and jeers, and Cynthia felt a wave of shame wash over her. She tried to struggle, but the man's grip on the leash was too strong.

The muscular man with the scar stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Cynthia's naked body. He cracked his knuckles, a cruel smile spreading across his face. The Grunt handed him the leash attached to Cynthia's handcuffs, and the man gave it a rough tug, making Cynthia stumble forward. She tried to resist, but her body was too weak from the two hours of **** she had endured.

The man's grip on the leash was strong, and he led Cynthia over to a nearby bench. He pushed her down onto it, her body splayed out for all to see.

The muscular man with the scar tied Cynthia's wrists to the bench, his rough hands brushing against her skin as he worked. He then moved down to her ankles, binding them to the legs of the bench with a length of rope. Cynthia's legs were **** apart, her body splayed out for all to see. The man stepped back, admiring his handiwork, as the crowd erupted into cheers and catcalls.

Cynthia's face burned with shame as she realized the extent of her exposure. She was completely at the mercy of this stranger, with no way to defend herself or cover her naked body.

The Grunt turned his back on the scene, seemingly satisfied with the proceedings, and began to walk away. His heavy boots echoed off the surrounding buildings as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Cynthia to the mercy of the muscular man with the scar. The man, still admiring his handiwork, didn't seem to notice the Grunt's departure, his eyes fixed intently on Cynthia's exposed body.

As the Grunt walked away, the crowd's attention remained fixed on Cynthia, their jeers and catcalls growing louder and more intense. The muscular man with the scar, still standing over Cynthia, cracked his knuckles again, a cruel smile spreading across his face.