The first thing you notice is a light tugging on your feet. As you groggily blink awake, you feel a warm tightness climb your shins. You try to pull them apart and kick off the strange blanket, but they refuse to move. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you stare down your body, taking a second for your eyes to adjust. In the dim light, you can make out a long, green form draping off your bed. Your feet are obscured by a Serperior's head and "ears," as it rests its length along your legs and stares intently at you. It moves forward, as does the strange, wet feeling on your legs, and your brain finally makes the connection.
In a panic, you reach out wih a hand, grabbing blindly at your bedside for your phone, a light, anything, but the Serperior is faster. A dark green vine lashes out from its collar and ensnares your wrist, yanking it back down against your leg. You try to pull your arm back, but the Pokemon simply relaxes its throat and, to your horror, you pull yourself deeper into its slick, tight throat. Eyes wide, you reach up behind you with your remaining hand, grabbing hold of the headboard to anchor you. The Serperior doesn't stop you, and its eyes appear to light up as though smiling. A shudder runs through your body, and then the stealthy predator makes things worse.
With another gulp from its undulating body, the Serperior tucks your hand securely in its mouth. Its red eyes gleam in the darkness, a fearsome Glare directed at the human who dared to wake up and resist its claim over your body. Unable to tear your own gaze from those powerful, crimson eyes, you barely even struggle as its mouth stretches wide around your hips, over half your body now snugly within its hot, rippling body. A whimper escapes your mouth while the serpent casually climbs your chest, the strength of its jaws and gullet making it harder to breathe. A few light kicks barely phase the Serperior, and its snout soon bumps against your chin, the pokemon now having effectively pinned one arm over your head as well as the othe is still stuck to your side, deep in its body now.
It blinks slowly, then starts to raise its head, powerful muscles tightening around your body to lift its prey - and by now, what more are you than prey - off the bed. You clench your one free hand, hanging onto the headboard as best you can, and for a moment, you stop the predator. There's a blur of dark green in the corner of your eye, and a sudden sharp pain burns your forearm. You cry out in pain and instinctively recoil, pulling your hand and arm away.
And that's all the Serperior needs.
In one motion, it lifts its head up and swallows. Its scaly lips slip over your own softer ones, its slimy mouth engulfing yours in a strange mockery of a kiss. The next moment, your world goes a deep red, then black, leaving only your hand in the cool, dry air of your bedroom. You thrash, kick, and squirm, getting your energy at just the wrong time but hoping to still discourage the Serperior. Unfortunately, another wave of squeezing flesh rolls down your body, and your hand joins the rest of you in the hot, drool-soaked world of your predator's body. To make matters worse, the warmth and pressure start to lure your body to sleep, to finish what the pokemon had so rudely interrupted. The Serperior slithers off your bed and moves on, and its steady, undulating body, to your increasingly passive worry, gently convinces your eyes to close, your heart to steady and slow, and your mind to surrender to the darkness deep within the Pokemon's stomach...


Nonfatal bonus bit:
Vivian draped herself around Char's shoulders, making sure to balance the Trainer-sized lump across the Fire-type's back. <Out like a light. What do you think, five more hours? Six?>
The Charizard grumbled about the added weight, but only lightheartedly. <I think six lines up better for humans. Gives us time to sleep, too.> He looks warily at his teammate. <Surely there's a better way to get him a healthy minimum amount of sleep?>
Vivian just smiled and gave him a quick, friendly squeeze. <Possibly, but nowhere near as fun. I'm sure he'll forgive me in the morning.>
<...you didn't tell him beforehand?>
<Don't have hands to tell him before, my dear. Oh, you should try this sometime.>

Also, bonus points to anyone who can identify which Rene Magritte painting is crudely imitated on the wall!

Posted using PostyBirb

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