Could you write something with pokemon eating their trainers?
I would like to do that. As someone who is really into P.okemon vore, I have not done nearly enough with the actual P.okemon as preds.
Late at night, the L.ucario slips into his trainer's tent with a devious glint in his eyes and a slurp of his muzzle. They were well into their journey, and the F.ighting type had been biding his time for this moment. His trainer is fast asleep, the rest of the team in their P.okeballs, and he was left out to keep watch for the night. It was the perfect time to strike. In all honesty, he didn't dislike his trainer or anything of the sort. But the young man wasn't very good at his job. He made sloppy mistakes in battle, got his team unnecessarily injured, and overall was just barely scraping by. Lucario was sick of it. The whole team was, of course, but he's the only one willing to do anything about it. So, with their trainer sleeping, the L.ucario finally makes his move--he lifts the young man's feet up, opens his drooling maw wide, and shovels them in. He works slowly and carefully, trying to be quiet as he lets thick gulps slurp his trainer deeper. He's happy that the human likes to sleep in only his boxers since it allows the L.ucario to enjoy every inch of flesh his tongue can reach. His trainer shifts slightly and giggles in his sleep feeling the slick tongue running along his legs, but it doesn't stir him, and he continues to sink deeper down the jackal's gullet with each thick, wet gulp. His hands are put to his side and slurped up as the L.ucario reaches his waist, then his torso is sliding down. The yellow-furred gut is really starting to bulge out now as the human slips inside and it gurgles in anticipation for its midnight snack. Before long, the L.ucarion's maw is sealing shut over his trainer's head. He gives the sleeping face a final lick goodbye before sending it down with a gulp. The L.ucario's gut sloshes out in front of him, now with the distinct shape of a human curled up inside. The L.ucario lays back on his trainer's sleeping mat with a content sigh, rubbing both paws along his gurgling guts. He really did it; he packed his entire trainer away with ease! And he didn't even wake up! In fact, his trainer seems pretty happy like this, if the L.ucario's aura reading is accurate. The thought that his trainer, even subconsciously, is content with being food makes the jackal smile slightly. A soft belch escapes his muzzle and he closes his eyes to sleep. Come morning, his trainer will be little more than a few inches on his gut and he'll be a free 'mon. So will the rest of the team...though, the L.ucario side-eyes the nearby P.okeballs with a slight smirk and another slurp of his muzzle. He'll need breakfast in the morning...and it would be a shame to break up the team, right? The L.ucario could keep them all together, their auras joining his, the weight hanging off his middle. They wouldn't mind that fate...would they?
Having just turned eighteen, the young trainer was finally allowed to claim his first P.okemon and go on a journey like so many youth before him. He'd gotten his starter and ran off in excitement, barely taking time to heed the warning of the professor. "Don't overlevel your P.okemon too much or he might stop listening to you!" It was a warning plenty of trainers got--a reminder that what they're doing is dangerous and that these creatures will prove it if they think they're stronger than their trainer. But he didn't heed that warning, and before even making it to the first town, the trainer had let his C.harmander fight everything he could, wanting to grow strong fast and prove his strength. That hubris would put an end to his journey. After snacking on so many P.okemon, and even a trainer, the C.harmander had gotten big and chubby. And it was eyeing up its trainer slowly, slurping along its lips as its belly gurgled. It didn't need this kid to grow strong, right? No way...he'd be much better as some extra experience points! So the trainer, too excited to watch his P.okemon's shifting behavior, let out a cry as he's tackled from behind by the smaller lizard. The sudden attack and its weight knocks him over, and he soon find the C.harmander sitting on his chest, drooling and licking its lips. The wet slurps he got along his face made him laugh nervously--surely it's just his starter showing him some praise for being such a good trainer, right? But when that slick maw opened wide, showing the same dark gullet a few dozen P.okemon had already faced...the trainer was in too deep to go back. The C.harmander didn't listen to a word its trainer said as it engulfed his head and began to guzzle him down. Commands, threats, desperate pleas--they all fell on deaf ears as the starter effortlessly packs away his overzealous trainer. Having a meal over twice his size leaves the little lizard stranded on the side of the route, but he's perfectly content like this, a fiery belch escaping his grinning face. Other trainers would pass by, noticing the screaming bulge of a human stretching out that orange belly, and the dangerous look in the C.harmander's eyes just begging for those passersby to try and play hero...in the end, nobody stopped to help the trainer. They'd all heard the same warning, after all--it's not their fault if someone else didn't listen. As time goes on, the human-shaped bulge would steadily soften up and shrink down, the boiling guts of the overpowered starter effortlessly pumping its trainer away like any other piece of food. If things turn out well, the C.harmander will be picked up by a stronger and more experienced trainer that can tame it. If they don't...then newbie trainers will have to be careful of the greedy C.harizard that lurks on Route 1, waiting for its chance to have an easy snack. Whatever the outcome is doesn't matter, though. With a final wet belch and a few pats to his fatter gut, it's the end of the story for the trainer whose journey never truly began.
G.engar has had enough. His old trainer traded him away to a new one, letting him evolve in the process, all because this prick convinced his old trainer that he was too weak to handle the ghost. And sure, maybe he'd been a bit of a handful, but he liked his old trainer! This one? He's a ruthless authoritarian, commanding P.okemon like objects rather than living creatures. Anything that doesn't make the cut gets tossed away, either used in trades like the one that got G.engar stuck here, or worse yet, used as fodder to feed other P.okemon on the team. Either way, they're always made into 'examples' to keep the rest of the team in line. It's worked pretty well, too. This trainer's P.okemon are all completely subservient to him out of fear of what happens should they fail. But the G.engar isn't. He's still too fresh to the team, and unlike most of the rest, he's had enough time with his last trainer to know what a good one looks like. The rest of them were caught or bred or traded in at weaker levels, making it easy for them to be controlled. But the trainer got too cocky, too greedy, and G.engar plans to make him pay for that mistake. Turning another round of ruthless, agonizing training, G.engar makes his move with the trainer is berating someone else for failing to be perfect. His long tongue lashes out, slurping up over the trainer's back and coating it in thick slime. The man shudders and his entire body goes rigid. Just as the ghost hoped, paralysis set in fast, and the trainer falls onto his back. The ghost floats over him, grinning wide, red eyes shining deviously. He really likes the look of fear etched into the trainer's face, that realization that he's truly messed up. But the G.engar knows a better look for him. The ghost's mighty jaws open incredibly wide, his thick tongue snaking out again to wrap around the frozen trainer and hoist him into the air. With a maw like his, the human is just a nice mouthful for the G.engar, the ghost's teeth clacking shut behind the man and his purple cheeks bulging out. He slurps and gnaws on the human, snickering to himself as he hears the little cries and whimpers of his meal. Finally, he tips his head back, using one massive gulp to move the human from his maw and down to his gut, which sags low in the air as the weight quickly drops in. G.engar belches thickly and pats his gut a few times. Yeah...this human will look much better as nothing but ghost chub. The rest of the P.okemon seem surprised by how easily and quickly their nightmare trainer had been disposed of, but really, the G.engar didn't care much. He grabs his P.okeball and floats off. Time to find his old trainer--that kid was always fun to spook. Maybe belching up some human bones will be a fun way to reintroduce himself!
