Maybe Ryou should have walked into the nearest patch of tall grass and tried his luck with whatever bug-type or Pidgey-clone that popped up first. But how could he, when the local haunted mansion stood within shouting distance, and ghost-types were that much cooler? Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try doing things right: if the Professor hadn’t been such a jerk as to hand off all his starters to the kids who got there first, then maybe Ryou wouldn’t have had to snag an empty pokéball from his lab and run off to capture one himself.

Tough shit that it was an important prototype or something like that.

Though solid walls towered around the estate while a robust set of padlock and chains held its gate shut tight, a convenient assortment of holes and cracks, each well-spaced from the other and deep enough to offer purchase for hands and feet, made it a cakewalk to break into the property. Ryou briefly wondered whether it was serendipity or the handiwork of a fellow interloper before beginning his ascent, the thought all but forgotten by the time he heaved himself over the ledge and sat on top.

From there, a dreary landscape greeted him. The courtyard lay completely derelict; its passageways littered in dead undergrowth, its structures dilapidated and toppled by the untended growth of roots and branches. Not an ounce of green in sight. Every tree stood naked and dead vines crept over every stone as if decay itself thrived in this place. The crushed remains of a fountain beneath an uprooted tree rounded out the scene.

Without a matching set of holes on the inner side, Ryou leaned his chest and arms on the ledge, lowered himself as much as possible, and released. Though he aimed to land on his feet, he lost balance and fell flat on his ass. Wincing, he got up and dusted himself before heading towards the porch.

With the pokéball firm in his clutch, Ryou gently pushed the front door, gritting his teeth as it practically wailed on its hinges. He slipped in as soon as the gap allowed, praying he hadn’t already alerted every ghostly denizen in the enclosure to his presence.

Inside, the air felt dry and stale, and dust wafted like fog across the hallway. Boarded windows, tattered curtains, and empty sconces lined the walls. A thick layer of dust and disuse covered the floor and each ruined piece of furniture. The faded portrait of a victorian-looking gentleman hung across the hall. Probably the once lord of the mansion, Ryou figured.

With excitement bubbling in his chest, Ryou took a deep breath and pushed onwards. The wood board floor creaked like an old ship as each step lead him closer to having his very own ghost. His skin broke into gooseflesh as he wondered which one he’d find. Taking his chances against an unweakened Gastly with nothing but an empty pokéball to throw at it could be a bit scary, but one of the small and cute ones like Shuppet, Litwick, or even Misdreavus would be perfect for him. He kept his eyes peeled for those.

He was so caught up while scanning every nook and cranny for them, that he failed to notice as a pitch-black shadow, thick as sludge, with two glowing eyes and a wide, sinister grin, came sweeping across the floor and merged with his own.

A cold chill ran through the air and, by the time he’d reached the dining room, Ryou rubbed his forearms together and saw his breath rise in white puffs. Highly unusual for a late summer evening.

The dining table lay draped in a silken tablecloth, with chairs, plates, and cutlery neatly arranged and lined on both sides as if it were ready to hold a feast. Intrigued, Ryou approached. The tablecloth swished by his ankles as he picked up a fork and plate to examine. It didn’t make sense—antique china and silverware should have been amongst the first items to get looted; what on earth were these still doing here?

A sudden gust of wind hit him in the back as a small shadow skittered between his feet, breaking his reverie as it brushed against his leg and hid beneath the table. Startled, Ryou dropped the plate in his hand. The sound of fine porcelain shattering into a hundred tiny pieces broke the stillness before the silence returned. The cold got worse and Ryou had to stop his teeth from chattering as he squeezed the pokéball in his hand.

This was it. His heart raced and pounded in his chest as he lowered himself on one knee and lifted the tablecloth by the fringe, thumb sliding over the trigger as he peered into the shrouding darkness, ready to fling the ball at the first thing that moved.

His eyes adjusted. Nothing. He kept looking, carefully surveying between the legs of each chair and the table for something he could have missed. Still nothing. He sighed as the last of his anticipation fizzled out. But just as he readied himself to get back on his feet, the table thumped loudly above him as if a sack of potatoes dropped from the ceiling.

He had company.

Ryou lurched back, scrambling to his feet as he looked over the table. His blood turned cold as he saw not one of the more innocuous little ghosts or even a deadlier—but possibly still manageable—Gastly, but a fully evolved Gengar instead.

Ryou stammered in shock as the creature spread its grin and unrolled its massive tongue at him. The pink flesh stretched like bubblegum, thick as a duvet and dripping with drool as it weaved almost cartoonishly. The sight of it sent shivers down the boy’s spine.

Trembling from head to toe, Ryou fell on his back and let his pokéball slip from his grasp. Scrambling, he lurched himself at it, falling flat on his stomach as he caught the ball just before it escaped his reach. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, the tongue loomed just above him, casting its shadow as if to remind him of his predicament.

Ryou steeled his grip and took a deep breath to stop from shaking. His chances stood somewhere between less than stellar and fucking abysmal, but he wasn’t about to go without even trying. With a sharp push, he rolled to the side, dodging the tongue by a hair's breadth as he flipped on his back. With its tongue flat against the dusty floor instead of on the aspiring trainer, the Gengar stood like a sitting duck as its would-be prey hurled the pokéball at it.

It hit the ghost pokémon square in the face, swallowing it in a crimson flash before falling to the floor. Ryou stared incredulously, still sprawled on the floor as the pokéball wiggled once and stopped. He curled up and shielded his face behind his palms as it wiggled again, shivering as he slowly peeked between his fingers when the Gengar failed to break free.

A third wiggle made him dare to hope.

The world went stock still as Ryou rose to a sitting position, tingling all over as he felt his insides go hollow and flutter. Each second dragged longer than the last as he waited and prayed for the ball to click shut, clenching every muscle as he bounced on the balls of his feet and jittered from each bead of sweat that crawled across his skin.

But at the last possible moment, when Ryou could almost hear the sweet sound of success clicking in his ears, the pokéball snapped in two as it failed to contain its occupant. The temperature plunged by several degrees as the ruined contraption released a now very displeased Gengar, which for some reason suddenly reminded Ryou that it was high time he was in bed.

Ryou made to turn tail and run, only to stop dead on the spot when a second Gengar cut off his path as it emerged out of his shadow as if climbing from a hole on the floor. Before he could even think of another way to run off to, a sticky mass of flesh pressed against his back, sliding under his shirt and slathering him in its thick saliva as it ran from the small of his back to his shoulder blades.

Its touch made his skin crawl. Ryou shuddered in disgust as the soaked fabric clung to his back. Though he wanted to run more than anything right now, he simply couldn’t move; his body held frozen in place, stiff as stone, as all heat seeped out of him.

With every muscle from his head to the tips of his toes completely paralyzed, Ryou could only watch as the tongue wrapped around his body and tightened like a snare, pinning his arms to his sides before hoisting him into the air. His teeth chattered and his skin broke out in prickles as a mind-numbing fear took hold of him.

With each breath turning shallower and shallower and his heart beating so fast it hurt, Ryou felt as if about to faint. Things happened faster than his mind could process; before he knew it, the second Gengar floated right beside his shoulder, cackling by his ear as a cluster of glowing red eyes lit up in quiet spectation from every hole and dark corner in the room.

The utter sense of dread, coupled with his helplessness and the friction of a giant, squishy tongue wriggling and squeezing around his body, drove Ryou into a raging hard-on. His cock throbbed in his pants as he squirmed, feverish and needy as he fought the paralysis to try and rub his legs together. Then, as if sensing the boy’s unhinged lust, a third Gengar emerged, rubbing itself like a cat against Ryou’s thigh as it grabbed his shorts by the waist and yanked them down.

His cock sprang free from the garment, gleaming with pre-cum and twitching as it gushed out more. Ryou tensed his hips, arching his back and closing his eyes as he all but forgot his current predicament. His toes curled so hard one of his shoes fell off his foot as the third Gengar stuck out its tongue and nearly pushed the boy over the edge as it licked his cock from base to tip.

But before Ryou could reach sweet release, the first Gengar decided to claim its prize. With a sudden pull, it retracted its tongue, hauling the hapless boy ass first into the drooling abyss of its maw. A shudder ran down Ryou’s spine as he opened his eyes and turned his head to see himself half-swallowed by the ghost pokémon. He babbled in stunned disbelief, trying to pray or beg or maybe scream for help. But his voice caught in his throat as the Gengar gulped down, nearly doubling him over as it dragged him deeper into its gullet.

With its prey now constricted by the tight aperture of its throat, the Gengar finally released its tongue, letting it unfurl back into place as Ryou slowly slid down towards the yearning void of its stomach.

Staggered beyond belief, and with his achingly erect cock thrusting against his belly, Ryou could do naught but buck his hips before disappearing completely. His cock slid against the soft warmth of his belly in short, steady thrusts as he contracted and released every muscle he could. Heat and tension swelled in his loins as ghostly lips crept over his thighs and elbows, then knees and arms, and lastly, over his ankles and shoulders.

At the last possible moment, when his face stood framed between his soles—one still inside its shoe, the other fully contracted and wrinkled—Ryou cried out as he finally came, splurting his release so far as to reach his chin. His toes relaxed and his tongue lolled out as he sighed out a moan, a blissed-out expression on his face as the last of him sunk out of view.

There, twisted into an ungodly position, with loins aching from the recent release, and cramped walls squashing him from all sides, Ryou sat unsure of what came next. Was this really it? Would he be stuck here forever? He tried to calm down, figuring that sooner or later the professor would show up to retrieve his prized prototype.

Some good it did!

He huffed in frustration; his back and neck hurt badly from sitting folded in half like that. How long would it be until that stupid professor showed up?! Ryou could only hope the haunted mansion wouldn’t be the last place he’d check—his muscles were already cramping, for crying out loud!

He breathed a sigh of relief when his surroundings loosened up a little. He unrolled and stretched himself out only to realize in horror that his hands and feet were gone. His confines hadn’t grown more spacious; he was dissipating into the darkness, melting off into ectoplasmic goop. And by the looks of it, no professor would show up in time to rescue him.

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By the morning, when the sun peeked in from the holes in the ceiling, the stillness broke as a lone man walked into the dining room. The place lay completely trashed, the table splintered and upturned, and ruined dinnerware littered all over. It looked as if a drunken frat party had recently taken place there.

He rolled his eyes and groaned when he spotted his ruined prototype. It had been smashed in two, likely from a failed capture attempt, he noted. He dusted it and slipped it into his pocket; some of it could still be salvaged, maybe.

Just before he left, something caught his eyes. He pushed aside a piece of broken furniture to find a single discarded shoe. He picked it up to further inspect; clearly a boy’s shoe. His heart skipped a beat when he realized it was the same model that thieving little would-be trainer wore. A gust of wind blew on his back, and the professor turned around to see a plump figure with two glowing eyes and a smiling face appear in the shadows, skipping and giggling like a mischievous child.

He stared again at the empty shoe, then back at the mirthful ghost, and, with a knowing smile on his lips, he returned it a wink before dropping the shoe and taking his leave.

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Yet another amazing commission from the one and only Cookiepearl! Go check their art out, it's absolutely amazing!

Also, special thanks to crystalcorvuwuf for betaing, encouragement, and for being a wonderful human being. :)

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