A Raid Gone Wrong 2 (Patron Reward)

[The following story is a reward for a patron. Thank you so much for your support!

The following is a Pokemon fanfiction, featuring a gigantic Lopunny rampaging in a city, as less-giant pokemon and their trainers attempt to restrain him. The story contains themes of male and female giants; furry; growth/ungrowth/multiple giants+sizes; rampage/destruction/crush; feet/paws/stomping; ass/tail; vore/almost-vore/spit; masturbation/cum; humiliation.]

A roar of screams filled the air as the ground trembled under an immense weight. The sky went dark as all attention aimed onto the massive creature – and then the other, surging in height, becoming just as big as its opponent. The crowds went wild over the two dynamaxed pokemon: a Cinderace and Gengar, having reached titanic proportions, as their trainers square off in that final bout within a sold-out stadium.

A woman hopped and cheered for the action, but she was far from the live event happening downtown. She watched the broadcast from the cafe she worked at, unwilling to miss a beat of the battle; she was shushed by her fellow waitresses, all dressed in fine black dresses, tending to guests and their pokemon partners. They could only budge her during commercial breaks and time-outs, and her Tsareena was of no help either, equally enthused with the competition and cheering beside her trainer. The Waitress kicked at the air in front of her, mimicking the attack on screen, so immersed that she failed to notice the real rumbling happening across the cafe floor.

Teaspoons shivered and beverages bounced. Patrons of the cafe looked to the wait staff, as did they look at each other, just as confused. Some dumbstruck faces pointed into their phones as worry spread across the cutesy atmosphere of the cafe; the Waitress and her Tsareena ignored it all, until it flashed on the screen in front of them. The live broadcast was interrupted at its peak hype, taken over by an emergency signal. All of the televisions displayed the same warning – everywhere across the Galarian city, alerts sprung up of an approaching danger, thundering closer and closer to the urban heart.

“What? For real?” the Waitress bemoaned. Her Tsareena’s concern turned to the windows, catching glimpses of pedestrians rushing by. Yet the Waitress glared at the television, “Come on… Is this some kind of announcement? What about the batt– h-huh?”

There was no more ignoring the pattern of rumbling, having grown from subtle tremors into powerful shockwaves. As if a pokemon battle was happening outside the cafe, the rattling effects put the restaurant into disarray, with dishes and meals falling off tables and onto the floor. Some took to hiding under counters while others dashed outside, converging with crowds that were just as anxious to find somewhere safe. Another quake came and stumbled the Waitress onto her rear; when she next looked up, the emergency broadcast on screen showed live footage, revealing the lone pokemon which was responsible.

“...Lopunny?” the Waitress scoffed. “Th-That’s what’s doing thi– iieeeehh!!”

A tremendous quake jostled the building, jumping the Waitress and falling her back to the floor. Indeed, it was a Lopunny displayed on the screen, depicted at a gigantic height – though assumed to be dynamaxed, the scale of the creature was a league beyond that. The radio tower camera from which the footage came from could not capture his entire image, too huge to fit and only growing larger as he approached. Like any Lopunny would, he moved in sprightly skips with both legs hugged together, leaping over ankle-high skyscrapers and subsequently crashing into some others within the city. The shockwaves were because of that playful jumping, a harsh rhythm that continuously surprised the population, if they were not outright victims to wherever the gigantic pokemon landed. Plumes of smoke geysered into the air wherever he went, signals of incomprehensible destruction that he would happily leave behind.

After only so many jumps, the camera jittered and collapsed, recording an image of brown fur before losing connection. Another boom bellowed through the streets outside the cafe. Panic beset the remaining customers as it became understood that it was not simply a dynamaxed pokemon on the loose, but something worse – something far bigger and more intimidating, despite the cuddly-soft exterior and happy-go-lucky grin.

Tsareena helped her trainer back onto her feet as the rumbling echoed back. The Waitress staggered to leave, the last of the wait staff to exit, the lot of them leaving in their dress uniforms. She remembered a recent story from the news, but never expected the issue would unfold in such a way. There was much intrigue earlier around a wild Lopunny that would not end its dynamaxed state, existing in the wilds outside and conquering a canyon as its den. A strike team of trainers was sent out to battle it into submission, but clearly, something had gone wrong with the raid. Not only was the Lopunny there upon human civilization as healthy as ever, but he was enormous, the equivalent of a dynamaxed pokemon dynamaxing again – a phenomenon never before seen, with estimates going above 1,600 feet tall.

The Waitress had no plan, none more than any other evacuee that poured into the streets. Everyone sought shelter, hoping to find somewhere to hide before finding the Lopunny itself. The dense array of buildings and billboards so far concealed any image of the pokemon, but that only made the suspense more terrifying, that between every earth-pounding hop was the possibility they would be the next landing zone. The Waitress was frozen with that exact fear as crowds pushed past her and her pokemon, her gaze straying to the rooftops above as she looked ahead for where the Lopunny would be.

A shadow pooled over the stressed streets. The sun was eclipsed, overtaken by a staring expression that consumed the Waitress’s own. Those huge, red-colored eyes shimmered with interest over the cityscape they loomed above; floppy, fluffy ears dangled over the area, reaching longer than the skyscrapers were tall, heavy enough to bludgeon the buildings they careened into. The horrifying threat had arrived, sooner than any civilian had prayed, and he bore the same endearing smile his species was recognized for, sporting an elegant coat of fur that would charm spectators at a normal scale. It was as the broadcast had shown: a double-dynamaxed Lopunny, gleefully exploring a toy-like city.

Lopunny had arrived and found himself surrounded by squares of curiosities – that much was surely expressed from his wandering eyes. Leaned sharply forward with his pom-pom hands on his knees, he examined the bustling activity below, spying on the businesses that were blocks away from where his paws were planted. His initial scan counted the Waitress among the hundreds that were evacuating, but there were thousands more deeper within the city pulling for his attention. With so much to see, Lopunny crept onward, taking a single step that sunk slowly into place – a speed that savored the sand-like destruction of buildings crumbling underfoot.

That one footstep hailed close to the Waitress, who was stunned against the wall as she watched it rise and fall– Thooo-ooooo-oooom!! Her own shriek went unheard beneath the blast of noise, the explosion that was a paw crunching straight through a grouping of nearby structures. The wind pushed away that which was narrowly missed, including the Waitress and her pokemon, flung to the pavement along with dozens more. When they flinched from the ground, they were greeted by an alien picture – an obelisk of cream-colored fur, replacing where an assortment of buildings once stood. The Waitress was stunned anew by that image, coughing on the smoke of ruins that rung around the Lopunny’s paw. Total devastation had occurred because of the pokemon’s one idling step, and subsequently did the tragedy repeat itself when he followed through with another footfall.

Miraculously, the Waitress and the cafe were missed underfoot. Though not crushed into a crater, she yet faced the challenges of ripple effects, abandoned in the uneasy situation of shambling structures and fissuring pathways. Most daunting of all was the sky, or rather what censored it: directly above the Waitress was an arch of furry legs, and where they met was a plump ass, a cotton ball tail, and the shadowy details of a giant-scaled cock. The view of the Lopunny’s perineum was humiliating to the cast of survivors he ignored, yet none could look away either, their eyes hooked onto the impressive image as it lingered hauntingly above.

Like a satellite dropping out of the sky, that very underside was then plunging upon the audience it had enthralled, falling faster than screams could crop up. Lopunny’s shadow grew dense and dark, convincing the crowds that all underneath it would be crushed – even after it stalled in the sky, stopping just above rooftops instead of landing flat. The Waitress was among those that thought it was the end, and among the first to open her eyes and see Lopunny’s ass and cock hanging overhead, taunting them with its closeness. Indeed, Lopunny’s tiny puffball tail – that which was bigger than a two-story house – seemed to shake almost insultingly, expressing delight and interest over what truly had earned his attention: an airplane in the clouds, soaring high and far from the giant’s romp…

Or so the pilots and passengers had assumed, that they would be safe in the sky, tens of thousands of feet into the air. Faces pressed against the windows as uncertainty swirled in the cabin; they looked sharply down below at where the giant monster was reported, barely able to locate where he was directly underneath their flight, even less could they understand why he had crouched.

Turbulence rattled the plane, jolting fast into unbearable tremors that staggered passengers – the winds became unstable, responding to the huge mass that was rushing towards them from below. Lopunny had sprung from the cityscape and into the sky, launched as dramatically as a rocket, but with a playful poise, happy to be hopping high into the air. He left the city blocks in ruins from where he leapt, expertly reaching the exact height he required. At the peak of his jump, he had the airplane level with his face – red eyes blinked into the windows after flashing into view, creeping the passengers inside with a scan that valued their lives as cheap toys.

The plane was claimed by pom-pom hands, stolen right out of its trajectory. Passengers and crew alike were harshly thrown against the walls as the vehicle was crudely tilted and angled, aimed so that its nose pointed into Lopunny’s face. He took a look inside at the panicked pilots, little as they were to distinguish; his own nose touched the plane’s, brought up to his gaze so that his amusement might resonate inside, or that his remarkable ears might hear the squeaks of peril from within.

But for only so long could Lopunny’s one jump keep him in the air. It was a blissful consequence to him that he would inevitably come crashing back to the earth with the plane in tow, his smile maintained as he glanced below at wherever part of the city would become his landing. Unlike his crouch before, which stopped short of crushing into anything, his sky-high butt-drop roared with powerful intent towards some unfortunate zone, ceaseless in its speed – time warped around his massiveness, a second slowed down into an eternity as the earth braced for impact–

B-b-b-booo-oooohhm! A ceiling of chocolate fur consumed an entire district – every building and citizen, disappeared beneath a meteoritic ass. Waves more of disasters unfolded in a radius around Lopunny’s landing, where his titanic self smashed open a crater in the middle of the city, causing pulses of tremors that rumbled for miles. Debris and dust shot up like geysers around him, highlighting his location with a surrounding of smoke clouds; survivors suffocated on that foul air as they stumbled out of the wreckage, slowly realizing the depth of destruction around them – soon to realize as well that their toppled apartments and offices were splayed across the Lopunny’s lap, heaps of ruins that sifted into fleshy crevices, if they did not sooner sink into fields of fluffy fur. What few walls and floors held together yet crumbled when the giant pokemon began to move again, recovering from his own daze as though he had played too rough – but the fun was only just starting, his prize from the sky yet to be opened.

All had gone black inside the airplane after a harsh shockwave knocked out power in the cabins, leaving only dim emergency lights that did little to illuminate the chaos. Piles of people were passed out on the floor, while most others thrashed through the aisles towards exits that would not open – not within the grasp of Lopunny paws. A terrible metallic sound ripped above them with deafening quickness, the noise of the plane’s roof being peeled apart; wind flushed inside, debuting the most full picture the passengers would witness of the monster that had stolen them. The expression they were exposed to was as daunting as it was adorable, an obnoxious combination that stirred conflicted feelings – could something so cute actually be so harmful?

Hidden behind his hugeness, however, was Lopunny’s hunger. Satisfied with the collection he had won, Lopunny took the broken plane and titled it into his mouth. The humans inside poured out exactly as he desired; stragglers clung to upside-down seats and storage bins, but a few firm shakes was all it took to dislodge them from such corners. He felt the people only as much as powder along his tongue, his saliva instantly slathering his victims and preparing them for a smooth trip – a whirl of his tongue and one soft swallow sentenced those hundreds of passengers to the bowels of his stomach. The most stubborn might have endured by sticking to his gums or cheeks, but enough had been eaten to deserve a hum of delight and a stroke across his stomach. After dully double-checking the plane for leftovers, he next discarded the aircraft behind him like a thing of garbage, devilishly pleased to hear it burst and boom somewhere out of sight.

Lopunny’s feasting spree had become the heaviest headline to scroll alongside the emergency broadcasts, featuring graphic views from news helicopters capturing the horrid scene, but down below at the pokemon’s sides, the situation was too volatile to comprehend the violence happening above. Survivors awoke from the shockwave to find themselves thrown in wild places, from cobbled structures to fissured streets, strewn haphazardly over and around the seated giant, but it was one inconspicuous position that the Waitress was entangled within. A blast of ruptured earth had hurled her and her Tsareena through the air by Lopunny’s butt-drop, and where they fell was unique and alone – knotted in the coffee-colored furs that were welcomingly warm and huggably soft, in contrast to the danger of being anywhere else. The Waitress’s head popped up from the fluff, searching first for her Tsareena, then for an answer: “What’s this?! Wh-Where… are we…?!”

The evidence soon explained the Waitress’s whereabouts as she understood the roundness of where she was, from which she then inferred the imposing wall nearby as the backside it was: of all places any survivors could have been scattered, she and her Tsareena had been tossed into Lopunny’s iconic cotton ball tail, entangled alongside street lights and other stray debris. Understanding as much brought to light that she was at Loppuny’s ass, which loomed over a devastated plaza, passively rocking in response to his handling of the airplane. The Waitress struggled to move freely in the growth of fur, as did her pokemon partner, but both shrunk into stillness when the tail twitched with amusement over a tragedy they could not comprehend; while debating what to do, the choice was suddenly taken from them, held hostage in the cotton ball tail when Lopunny stood up and out of his crater. They were lifted hundreds of feet up in an elevator of fur in a matter of seconds, but no matter how high they were taken, they were ever aware that they were accessories to the giant pokemon’s ass, hanging to his tail furs as he looked to enjoy himself elsewhere.

Images of destruction and terror were played across the four separate jumbo-screens, depicting the Lopunny’s path of craters from a helicopter’s point of view. The startling news of the double-dynamaxed pokemon’s debut had spun the sold-out stadium into distress, inciting a stampede towards all exits that resulted in a slow, chaotic evacuation. People were packed at the stairwells and parking lot exits as players, enthusiasts, and staff alike sensed the tremors of bunny hops coming closer. The jumbo-screens underrepresented the actual size of the oncoming threat, that despite their huge screens displaying the Lopunny’s mischief, it failed to capture his true scale – a total height that terrified the tens of thousands inside the stadium as the peak of the monster gradually dawned in the distance, revealing an adorably grinning expression as it approached the activity.

“Keep the cameras rolling!! Are you getting this?! Look!!” Amidst the chaos that had spread out into the greentop, a Sportscaster on the sidelines encouraged her film crew to hold their ground and record the action. She clutched a microphone to her beating heart, staring up at the Loppuny’s arrival and subsequent stop outside the stadium. Only minutes ago, the stadium was hyped for an intense pokemon battle – a showdown between Galarian trainers that would surely have shown the most out of their dynamaxed pokemon. That excitement was twisted into anxiety when the giant Lopunny appeared, disrupting the entire event and forcing the messy evacuation. The Sportscaster persisted, however, and so did her crew, taking shelter by a dugout while they recorded the Lopunny looming over the stadium walls. She stood forward, barely in the bottom of the camera, as people from the audience shoved past behind her; “Th-The giant Lopunny is here, live at the stadium…!” she stuttered into the mic, pointing up at the massive beast. “It’s madness here! B-But no one knows what this pokemon wants o-or what it’ll do next! People a-are trying to get out, but– Oh, no, wh-what is it doing now…?”

The Lopunny’s smile had become sly as he stomped into position, seemingly amused with how humanity sprawled in and out of the ring-shaped structure. The sports stadium was designed wide and spacious as to host incredible dynamax battles between trainers, but to something as gigantic as the roaming Lopunny, the entire place was more like a shin-high basket in proportion to him – a nook to lounge and kick up his legs, if it could even contain him. He was gleeful to test that possibility with his legs on either side of the stadium, his fluffy butt taking aim at the home side before he teasingly lowered himself into a seat.

There was first a frightening flash and snap as the Lopunny’s ass descended, the effect of that side’s jumbo-screen being pushed out of its way. The screen cracked and flared with electricity as it became part of his seat, collapsing into the bleachers below just before the butt began sinking into the plentiful rows of seating. The upper level quickly caved under the pressure, allowing Lopunny’s hips to break through them and into the seats below; the stadium bent to his presence, the cacophony of his sitting made muffled by his fur as it leaked past him and into the ears of those running away. Though much of the crowds had turned to run away from where Lopunny approached from, his decision to sit so spontaneously overwhelmed those chances of escape, his butt more quickly crushing down over top of those than they could flee. The few survivors that rose from the wreckage were greeted by Lopunny’s immenseness as it shifted into a comfortable place, having discovered that he was too big for the stadium and that the corner he chose was being widened with every twist of his hips.

A race of explosive consequences riddled around the stadium. Walls collapsed upon walls, seats fell onto seats; with each destructive effect was an aftershock that caused more to fall apart, wreaking havoc upon evacuees wherever they were. Rather than risk being inside under unstable ceilings, much of the crowds poured back into the stadium, pooling into the visitor side of the field away from the Lopunny, but not far enough to escape his interest. After settling his butt into place, Lopunny looked to his prey, licking his lips at how easily they were within his reach.

The news crew had tried resisting the stream of mobs moving to the other half of the stadium, but as the devastation neared them, they became scattered and disorganized. The Sportscaster’s report was interrupted with a shriek when she saw a scoreboard falling forward from its high perch, slowly tilting then crashing down all at once onto the upper level of seats. It tore through it and continued through the lower level, right over the dugout. In a split-second decision, the Sportscaster threw herself out of the scoreboard’s path, dodging into the bunker where the huge screen careened past, slamming hard into the field.

The Sportscaster found herself sealed in darkness, trapped in the dugout as the world continued to rumble and buzz. She gasped, realizing her mistake; she pushed against the scoreboard, but it was futile to try and budge something so big, even enough to squeeze through. “No, no…! D-Don’t leave me! Hey!!” she shouted to her crew, but they were already gone, swept up with the rest of the crowds. “C-Come on…! I’m going to die down here…!”

Surrounded in crumbling darkness, the Sportscaster sought some way to escape, but in her search, she stumbled over rubble and fell into a corner. Whimpering from the fall, she found herself shoving aside a bag of sports equipment, which spilled over to reveal a glowing light – a fully-charged dynamax bracelet, left behind by one of trainers competing that day. She held it and looked it over, shuddering when she heard another crack in the structure around her; though she was no professional trainer, she did have a pokemon of her own, and so she hurriedly donned the bracelet and retrieved her pokeball.

Lopunny had since reclined in his makeshift den, an adjustment that made more of the stadium walls burst apart with an overflow of fluff, and that made his crotch ever more prominent on the ground level. His cock pushed forward relentlessly, overtaking anyone in his way underneath it; the pool of people had been pressed into the visitor end of the field, only a short distance from the testicles that had swamped several already. Coaxed by the texture of squirming survivors, Lopunny’s dick progressively extended, bobbing with firmness as it grew erect – pointing forward like a menacing machine, thicker than a stack of city buses yet ultimately petite in proportion to the whole pokemon. That made it no less threatening to the crowds in front of him, as it was their very worry that stirred Lopunny’s arousal and earned the focus of his red-colored eyes.

As one paw stroked and swirled his rod, another was on the hunt for playthings, targeting first those closest to him. Lopunny’s fingers scooped through the crowds, abducting several at a time regardless of how they tried to duck or dodge; they were reeled directly to his dick and deposited there, lazily added to his sexuality by being dropped across his lap. Whether they fell onto the cock itself or ended up somewhere in the fur of his thighs, their addition brought that extra tingle of sensation Lopunny desired, spurring a tickle that coursed through his hugeness and rattled the stadium more. In a huff of heat, Lopunny gripped his erection more tightly, his tongue poking playfully from his wry smile as he watched humans writhing in the grasp. Yet even more were shoveled out from the crowds and placed over his crotch, never enough to completely satisfy him – but enough to get started.

His entertainment, however, was interrupted by a tremor not of his own. Lopunny felt a pressure rising from under his leg, a force that drove against the weight of stadium debris, pushing diligently towards daylight. He blinked in surprise when there was a breakthrough from below the bleachers, an eruption of light and energy that charmed Lopunny immediately. To the crowds, it was yet another explosion to look out for, but they soon realized it was a different pokemon that was rising and lifting the collapsed scoreboard: a curtain of rubble gave way to reveal the colorful beak and feathers of a Hawlucha, dynamaxed to a size that could toss the destruction aside with ease. Heavy talons crashed into the greentop as she debuted into the center of the field with a showy personality, announcing herself like a hero arriving just in time.

But that flare quickly faded in the face of the threat she was brought against, chilled by the shadow of her enormous enemy. Her confidence quaked as she gawked at her foe’s crotch, an oppressive wall of fluff and genitalia that was speckled with squirming people; she had barely outgrown the size of the cock in front of her, still only a fraction of the double-dynamazed Lopunny – as though she had not been giganticized at all. Lopunny’s gaze lazily lingered on her while he continued to stroke himself, expressing curiosity with his perked ears that struck Hawlucha into a defensive stance.

An actual battle had not been intended from the Sportscaster when she summoned her Hawlucha to the stadium, but it seemed to be inevitable to her as she scrambled out of the ruined dugout. She dashed around debris and between her pokemon’s talons, taking a position to hide behind her – yet Hawlucha herself seemed ready to hide, evidently intimidated by the looming Lopunny. The Sportscaster stuttered with uncertainty, “H-H-Hold ‘em off, Hawlucha! Y-You can do it…!” Hawlucha, however, crowed nervously, but her trainer insisted – she was everyone’s only hope. “G-Go on! Hit him with your, uhm… High-Jump Kick!”

After steeling herself for an attempt, Hawlucha obeyed and executed a flight-like jump into the air, a launch that rocked the ground as she took off to the sky – a leap yet dwarfed by the sitting Lopunny. Nonetheless did Hawlucha commit to the attack, raising a leg for a vertical cut that would strike her opponent’s cock in a swift descent. It could have been a formidable blow, but the kick was caught mid-air by a net of fingers; Hawlucha had been snatched into Lopunny’s possession, taken by him like a toy and choked by his grip. She squawked weakly while being turned around and looked over, desperately trying to pry herself free from the humiliating position as she was lifted up and out of the stadium, held as high as Lopunny could reach. From that height, she then came plummeting down in a whip of motion– booooom! Lopunny punched Hawlucha into the greentop, a heavyweight slam that cratered the field and pinned his challenger under his palm.

That effortless counter-maneuver nearly included the Sportscaster, though the collateral of the attack quickly caught up to her. She had dashed away from the expected impact, but a wave of turf yet rolled into her and flipped her off her feet; she was flung amidst a web of fissures that staggered the terrain, hazards that she tripped over while trying to make distance from the scene. When she was finally far enough to turn around and review the battle, the tides had only grown worse: Lopunny leaned inward with both hands flat over Hawlucha, crushing down on her with pulses of weight, giggling at how she strained and spasmed. The Sportscaster was hollowed to witness her beloved partner be belittled and overwhelmed, an embarrassment amplified by their tremendous scale and that was surely being broadcasted to the world at large.

“H-Hawlucha…! Hang in there…!” the Sportscaster called out, panicking to think of a better direction for her pinned pokemon. She felt the field buzz from Hawlucha’s efforts to escape, but anything she tried was to no avail; she soon exhausted herself, seemingly according to Lopunny’s plan. The Sportscaster winced, having to accept defeat for the sake of her partner – but when she reached for her pokeball, she was stopped by the sudden crunch and groan of metal, caused by Lopunny’s legs curling through the stadium walls. An avalanche of debris chased after her, forcing her inward before she could recall her pokemon; Lopunny was changing his posture, bending forward onto his hands and knees, becoming a bridge that hung dauntingly over the stadium. As the Sportscaster stabilized, her eyes went wide, agasp at how Lopunny readied himself with his cock pointed at a downward angle.

Hawlucha was in a struggle to crawl away when she was suddenly struck from above by a log of weight – she was overrun by the length of Lopunny’s dick, a train that plowed over her back and pushed her into the turf. Its hardness bulldozed her forward, then backward, as Lopunny rubbed himself against her in a steady rhythm of rotation, closing his eyes as he let instinct take control. Hawlucha crowed and squirmed as she was bludgeoned against her back; with a speedy twist, she successfully grappled the cock and attempted to wrestle it into submission, but the speed and strength was too much to overtake. It instead dragged her back and forth as she hugged onto it, a tightness that only exhilarated Lopunny into a boastful moan. Indeed, he felt encouraged and empowered to apply more of his sexuality onto Hawlucha, deciding then to drop the weight of his crotch onto her – disappearing her under his balls and fur, where her resistance was dulled to pleasant pulses beneath his crotch.

The Sportscaster saw as well as every panicked person behind her how her dynamaxed Hawlucha was smothered into defeat. The fight was perversely one-sided, and for all of Hawlucha’s suffering, she had only bought a minute of delay for evacuations – a minute that would mean nothing, not according to the suspense being built within Lopunny’s cock. The Sportscaster stared into the one-eyed behemoth as it plowed her pokemon, piecing together the unfortunate inevitability, the logical conclusion that would soon be unleashed. Accounting for how the titanic dick was angled, she made a desperate maneuver – a dash to safety, which was in fact a leap closer to the gigantic terror’s crotch, throwing herself face-down in front of it. It was a move made in just the knick of time, for only a moment later did a burst of white shoot over her head and into a pile-up of people. Cries of humiliation and pain rang from where it splashed, but it was only a prelude to Lopunny’s pleasure.

They all could hear his grunts of tension, a faint and breathy signal of culmination. His grinding atop Hawlucha hastened into fast-paced thrusts, until– thoooooosh! With a yelp of delight, Lopunny pulsated forward in climax, releasing a load that instantly flooded the visitor side of the stadium. The fluid, thick and odorous, rushed through every corridor, crevice, and fissure; it spread over the seats and filled inside, grabbing people and pooling them into a viscous mess that continuously seeped outward. From her lowly proximity to the Lopunny, the Sportscaster saw the hose-like effect of his orgasm, herself speckled by some stray excess – she went overlooked, too unimportant to the Lopunny, yet she was only so secure for the time being. After awing at the fountain of cum and its trembling conclusion, she gawked up at his sighed expression, sensing then a ping of his destructive appetite – a dismissive smile, as if a toy had run out of purpose.

Relieved from that pressure, Lopunny cooed and looked over his results within the stadium, seemingly satisfied with the range of devastation his orgasm was responsible for. He admired where his beam of cum had drilled through levels of seats, creating cracks and gaps that the fluid then filled inside, swamping those that had mistakenly thought themselves far enough away from the danger. Some survivors could even be identified as tiny dots, trudging or even swimming through his load – a perfectly miserable sight that Lopunny cherished with mocking giggles as his posture relaxed and his legs came closing together for an afterglow squeeze. The ripping, clunking sound of the metal structure being crushed by his thighs was music to his oversized ears, but a cacophony of disaster crashing down on Hawlucha and her trainer.

Shadows darkened as the walls of the stadium were broken down and replaced by the hills of Lopunny’s legs; the Sportscaster looked each way, comprehending the hopelessness of her position and the little time she had to act. She shivered into a sprint across the tremoring greentop, running to where her pokemon lay pinned under Lopunny’s sack. Hawlucha was called back into her pokeball before she could be squished any tighter under the megaton cock, but with her dynamaxed partner removed, she was left alone – abandoned at a crotch of fur, trapped in a valley of thighs that soon hugged together in a plush bumf of impact.

Lopunny was thrilled to feel the location be crushed between his legs, the remains of which were flattened vertically and piled over his lap. Like a victory banner above the destruction, his boner stood proud and unwavering, leaking with cum that trickled into the ruins. It was additionally fun for him to then open his legs apart, allowing the junked structure to stand on its own, so tightly clenched together – until enough metal came undone, collapsing into indistinguishable remnants, segments, and rubble.

Miraculously, the Sportscaster survived the crunch of destruction, despite her most perilous position as it occurred. By shoving herself deep into a soft, fluffy crevice of Lopunny’s crotch, she managed to successfully take shelter from the worst of the disaster; she was not immune, however, to sheer tightness of where she put herself, nearly suffocating in the knot of pubic fur as everything closed around her. There was no relief from the pressure for her, not until the gigantic pokemon had risen from the ruins, towering tall in a radius of debris – at which point it was too late to squirm free, not at the risk of falling loose and plummeting to the pavement. Clinging to hairs with both arms and legs, the Sportscaster gawked directly below at the faraway scenery, flushed with dizziness as she comprehend the harrowing height, nowhere else to hide.

Lopunny, of course, had no grasp of the Sportscaster’s situation, recognizing her as nothing more than another itch, made irritated by his lewd performances. Beyond a scratch at his crotch, he overlooked such minor feelings entirely, already pining to go somewhere else; his mischievous expression pointed to such a location, deciding on a long suspension bridge that was congested with traffic. He immediately made hops towards it, bouncing across the city – every leap emphasized with an eruption of gray haze, the geysers of urban architecture blowing up into the air around his ankles.

The best vacation had suddenly turned into the most tragic. The Tourist had her face pressed to the glass of her window, just as every other passenger did on that double-decker bus, gazing out and back to the skyline behind them. Outstanding from that once-iconic horizon of rooftops was the double-dynamaxed Lopunny, far bigger than any feature of the Galarian city, the likes of which the Tourist had become familiar with over the past several days; she was in disbelief that the very locations she had been exploring and enjoying were now a playground for one tremendous pokemon, romping around with an unabashed smile on his face. Many of the pictures she took on her trip would, in fact, be the last ever photos of such places. She intended to treasure those pictures, but only if she survived, a future that was still uncertain, given that her evacuation was currently stalled in a cluster of traffic on an outbound bridge.

“Why today…? Wh-Why now…?” the Tourist whimpered, her voice lost under the commotion of worry around her. “One more day– Just one more day! A-And I’d be flying back home to Paldea…!” She closed her eyes and reminisced the tranquility of a normal flight – a fantasy that was cracked apart by the imagery recently witnessed, when the Lopunny stole a plane right out of the sky. Her complexion went pale and her heart sank, dimly hoping she would make it to safety before being caught by the rampaging pokemon.

But when the Tourist heard every voice on the bus pipe up like an alert, she sensed the worst – looking out the window again, she saw what everyone else was reacting to, that the Lopunny was storming in their direction, one seismic hop at a time. The power of each tremor doubled with each leap, a crescendo of earthquakes that was soon warbling the suspension bridge and jumping cars off the pavement. A cacophony of sirens responded to the mayhem, but traffic was still only itching forward, every driver fighting to pull ahead of another.

From her seat on the upper floor, the Tourist’s eyes grew wider, matching the approach of the Lopunny. After a few hops closer, his scale could not be contained in the bus windows, too huge to be seen all at once – another few hops, and only his paws remained visible, obelisks of fur that eclipsed high rises. Another hop– Krr-aaaash! Where he landed next created a splash of debris that swept out around his feet like dust, a mess of concrete, steel, and glass that sprayed out everywhere – whole chunks of streets and buildings rocketed far due to the force, propelled like pellets that went crashing at random. That included the bridge, where pieces of destruction crashed all around them, hitting the structure or striking the river below like a hail storm of impossible proportions.

If the Lopunny had hopped that distance once more, the whole bridge would have collapsed under his paws, his shins above the river’s surface where it once stood. Instead, he stopped where he was, looming above his target with a confident smile. While he focused on just the bridge, which continued to shake and rattle in the aftershock of his arrival, there were mobs of other victims directly beneath him, scrambled survivors that were weaving around his stance and across wastelands of what he destroyed. Screaming and shrieking, if any stopped to look up at the living disaster, they were humiliated to see his perineum – a canopy of fur that was his crotch and ass, where his plush thighs almost met. They might have seen glimpses of stomach, a feature only barely forward enough to obstruct sight of his chest or his smile – until he began leaning forward, revealing his cocky expression to those crowds, as he knelt down to investigate the bridge. He was oblivious that simply squatting down would spur new quakes of consequences, causing more buildings to topple and more fissures to crack open – to him, the cityscape crumbled under him like the tall grasses of his normal-sized life, unremarkable to him when there was so much visible excitement boiling over at the river.

Panic spilled out of the double-decker bus. The Tourist clung to her bag as her fellow passengers became rowdier and pushier, shoving one another in a conflict to either evacuate the bus or remain sheltered inside. For her own self, the Tourist hesitated to act one way or the other, unconvinced either option was better than the next. More important than escaping the bus was that she not lose her most precious souvenir: an Ultra Ball that she kept clutched in both hands, containing the one pokemon she caught on her vacation.

It would be the case that no choice was best for any of the evacuees on the bridge, a fate revealed when two hands of great size reached beneath them. There was a sudden steadiness to the structure when it became grabbed on either side, no longer wobbling like it was, but instead taken into the firm grasp of the pokemon. That uneasy peace dissolved a moment later when the Lopunny lifted the bridge up out of the river, ripping the street away from the lands it connected; a terrible shake disrupted the crowds, tripping those that had exited the bus while those inside were thrashed back into their seats. The Tourist skipped a breath when the jolt occurred, frozen in fear while the bridge ascended.

Then, a woman’s voice sprang loudly– “It’s going to eat us!!” And like a trigger, both floors of the double-decker devolved into an uproar. It was deathly true what she shrieked, that the bridge was being tilted towards the Lopunny’s face, his mouth widening to expose the tunnel of a throat they would all be dumped into. A few at a time, vehicles dropped over the edge and spiraled miserably into his mouth; his tongue extended outward, curved like a net so it would catch any stragglers and then reel them away. Trucks and cars fell in sequence, and the drivers that abandoned them were soon stumbling in that direction, if not washed down by the rest of the traffic sliding down the incline. If ever there was a clog that prevented the automobiles from pouring out, the Lopunny could simply shake the bridge until it was loosened, allowing a satisfying heap of civilization to crumble all at once into his maw. His teeth made quick work of the metal and machinery, effortlessly crunching those various vehicles into bunches of scrap that could be more easily swallowed – swallowed alongside strings of people, those desperately navigating the swampy, humid atmosphere of a cavernous mouth.

The double-decker bus dragged down the slope, heavier and slower than most other vehicles, but still steadily on its way to becoming a serving to the Lopunny. While the rioting inside increased, the Tourist kept huddled in her corner, turned facing out the window – staring at where the cars cascaded past the ripped edge of the bridge, down into the abyss of a mouth. Mesmerized by its depth, she was blindsided by a sudden slam against the bus, struck by an abandoned car that had been ahead of it. The steep angle of the bridge caused it to capsize – tilting slowly at first, then taken by gravity and toppled onto its side. The Tourist gasped as her wall of the bus fell to the pavement– Krrrsh! All at once, the tinted windows shattered, but fortunately, the Tourist had lunged aside at the last second, tossing herself into the thicket of other stumbled passengers – and a storm of loose luggage, briefcases and bags and all of their contents spilling everywhere. That impact commanded silence out of the people, if only briefly, before their shrieking rang again, hearing the grinding sound of the bus continuing to slide towards its doom.

Next, a sensation of weightlessness – the plummet. The grinding ceased; the bus flipped in midair, falling from the bridge with a wave of other vehicles and people. There was no more scattered commotion, but a unified groan of despair, the voices between both floors of the bus joining into a horrible shout. The Tourist was among them, squealing her loudest, wrestling her way out from a squeeze of other passengers; it was then, in a crawl-dash along the floor, that she came across a particular item, glowing with energy that was ready to be used. She only recognized it from her visit to an athlete’s museum: a dynamax band, lost from someone else’s luggage. It practically fitted itself onto her when her hand fell upon it, striking her eye with a brilliant gleam – and the inspiration to possibly save herself.

Lopunny’s hips rocked side to side in a rhythm only he heard, joyfully devouring the contents of the bridge one mouthful at a time. The double-decker bus, despite its signature height and width, was no more of a crumb than anything else poured onto his tongue, earning only as much interest as it was flavorful. The contents were then swirled in his mouth, which had prepared a generous pool of saliva that entombed everything in a viscous glob. He savored the terrified and wild emotions of his victims like sugar, and so once the reactions became less lively, he bent his head back, happy to swallow it all.

But, while some of the contents went to his throat, there was an amount that refused – a swelling of something in his mouth, too big to casually gulp down. In his surprise, he gagged and staggered forward; his hands released the bridge all at once, forgoing the rest of his meal and allowing it to crumble and rain down into the river below. His cheeks eventually bulged with fullness, to the point it could no longer be contained – with a cringed expression, Lopunny buckled forward and spat the mouthful out, gracelessly removing what had spontaneously grown and put a distaste over his tongue. What he had ejected in a long thread of saliva was a gigantamax pokemon – a G-Max Hatterene, the Tourist’s precious treasure that she captured on her vacation.

The elegance associated with that rare pokemon, however, was entirely subdued by the situation she was released into. With little warning, she had been dynamaxed into her alternative form, summoned so that she might save the Tourist. Though successful in preventing them both from being swallowed, the rest of the bus and its passengers were left abandoned to the throat; Hatterene had used her newfound size to fork herself in the mouth, one tentacle pushed to the roof, the other diligently wrapped around her trainer. The next moment, they were plunged in the other direction – catapulted from the tongue and shot from the Lopunny’s lips, they were spat out together, dropped from that height back down to the river. Hatterene bombed into the water with a mighty geyser, her massiveness not to be underestimated; though pint-sized compared to the Lopunny, the G-Max Hatterene was still a titan as tall as some buildings, crashed into the earth as though she were a plane fallen out of the sky.

Despite that meteoric drop into the river, it took only a few moments for Hatterene to recover, craning up from the water and into standing position. She had kept her trainer safe throughout the ordeal by keeping her inside her cockpit-like head of hair, where she could use her own arms to embrace the Tourist safely. Their dazed expressions met each other, but they had not yet escaped – a churning of earth behind them meant the Lopunny was kneeling towards them, impatiently glaring at the morsel that had forced itself from his mouth.

“H-Hatterene…! Wh-What do we do?!” the Tourist stammered to her pokemon, sizing up the double-dynamaxed threat with no doubt of its sheer power. Hatterene similarly staggered and waded in the river, inching away while the Lopunny rested his grumpy expression into a palm, taking his time to retaliate. The Tourist felt a pang of trainer instincts – she knew she had to fight, even if she had little experience. A shaky hand pointed upward, “G-Get him, Hatterene! Use D-Dazzling Gleam!”

Hatterene braced herself defensively, standing steady while the water rocked with boats and debris beside her. Her tentacles slithered in sync to harness psychic energy into being; with a wave forward, she unleashed a bright attack of sharp, glittering projectiles. The Dazzling Gleam struck the squatting Lopunny directly in his chest, each needle detonating upon impact, but despite the gigantamax boost, the power of Hatterene’s move proved too little to do more beyond frizzing his fluff. Indeed, the attack irritated Lopunny more than he already was – his glare twitching, restraining a smile from being tickled onto his upset visage. When the effect faded and Hatterene’s tentacles went down to her side, the results were painfully poor, and worse yet was that it was then Lopunny’s chance to counter.

A paw curled into a fist and was lifted over Lopunny’s shoulder, aimed like a missile ready to launch. His pouting did not change, his cheek still plush into his other paw while preparing to strike back. Hatterene shivered with a forewarning of the power of that punch, but her low mobility in G-Max form made her an easy target; rather than retreat, she concentrated her psychic power to produce a round, glass-like barrier around herself, fortifying it with all of her energy. To the wayside of the battle, citizens with a sightline of both pokemon were captivated by the suspense of an upcoming clash, but no one was more tense than the Tourist, seated dangerously close to the titanic action, trembling with wide-open eyes as Lopunny’s fist came rushing down.

Crrrr-aaaasssshhhhkkk!! Lopunny’s punch met with Hatterene’s shield in an explosive impact, hit hard enough to break a shockwave that briefly changed the tide of the river. After nearly a full second of having withheld against the attack, however, the barrier shattered – hundreds of psychic shards gave way, successfully mitigating most of the blast, but unable to absorb it all. Hatterene squeaked, blown backwards when her barrier broke, timbering into the river almost unconscious. The Tourist yelled as her building-height pokemon collapsed, grappling her main body as they both splashed down.

Lopunny smirked victoriously, amused by how the G-Max pokemon had fallen despite so much effort. He decided to celebrate with a conclusive attack against Hatterene, leaning forward into a crawled posture, making himself a mighty bridge over the river with an arm and leg each supporting his arch. A dark shadow claimed the water above where he loomed, including Hatterene and her trainer; between two bobbing boats, Hatterene slowly rose with her tentacles, glancing upwards then to see the overwhelming ceiling that was Lopunny’s torso. The fluff of his chest was precisely positioned – prepared to drop out of the sky into an earth-shattering body-slam.

The Tourist pulled on Hatterene to urge her into moving more quickly, but exhausted as she was, it was miraculous she could slither at all through the river. The pressure above was increasing quickly, the wind splitting against Lopunny’s descent, the fluff above rushing closer and closer– Phwoooomphh-sshhh! Lopunny winked and laughed as his bosom smashed down, the water and ground both geysering outwards in a wave of demolition that flooded the nearby lanes in the city. Little of the river’s depth remained, made shallow after the crash; boats that had not been launched away were left wrecked on watery rocks, a scene of devastation that surrounded Hatterene, her tall form left thrown in those puddles. She had escaped the direct impact, but only barely, close enough that the subsequent wave was still very well an attack that brought her down to her final stretch of stamina.

The Tourist, meanwhile, was flushed out from Hatterene’s cockpit-like head, carried farther into the dried river, where she was washed-up on a muddy stone. From that place, she was stirred by huffing winds, chased after by Lopunny’s beating breaths of excitement – his expression, wider and more alive than anything the Tourist had ever witnessed, was an overbearing smile that made clear how much fun he was having, and that he was eager to have more. While enthralled with studying every close-up detail – the gloss of his eyes, his forest of fur, the weight of his floppy ears – the Tourist realized that Lopunny’s head was sinking low, laid level with what remained of the river. His lips curled outward, shaped for suction – to drink from the water and the debris afloat within it, including the stragglers within. The Tourist held her position as winds whipped at her, but it was the reversed flow of the river that snagged her off her rock and into the current, bound for the gigantic mouth that her G-Max Hatterene was also adrift towards.

But before the Tourist could be swept into that gateway of lips, Lopunny stopped his drinking with clenched teeth, lifting his head up from the river with a grimace. An itch of disturbance had pulled his attention behind himself; turning his head and tilting, he saw past his hips to the other end of the river, where a team of two pokemon had dynamaxed against his round ass and crotch, framed perfectly to be attacked. Opposing Lopunny was a giant Tsareena and a giant Hawlucha, the latter of which Lopunny recognized from before at the stadium, having since been restored back to fighting condition. Though still only ankle-high in their empowered states, the duo had made their opening move, a combination of feather-and-leaf projectiles that pelted Lopunny’s underside – to the effect of making him twinge in discomfort.

The surprise ambush had been commanded from two trainers, united by the tragic situation, having found each other in the sprawl of fur that was Lopunny’s nether regions. The Waitress and the Newscaster were still there, in fact, peering down from the peak-like peach beneath his cotton ball tail; both had weathered a storm to survive so long, but had recuperated enough to heal their pokemon partners and send them into battle, to do whatever could be done to weaken Lopunny’s rampage and put him in a position to then escape from his fluff.

“Ts-Tsareena…! H-Hu-Huge…!” the Waitress babbled aloud, eyes wide as she watched her pokemon grow like never before. She had been a die-hard fan of competitive dynamax battles, but never thought she would see the day she would be dynamaxing her own partner – certainly she never imagined a scenario like she was in. She saw how her grass-type compared to nearby buildings, some not even as tall as her legs were long; Tsareneea appeared especially dignified at that height, firmly posed to use another move, even if it were aimed at a gigantic rear-end. The Waitress, still in disbelief, looked at the dynamax band on her hand – “I-I thought this was just a souvenir…! I had no idea it worked!”

The Newscaster next to her was only marginally more concentrated, tightly grasping the bushy hairs around her to maintain balance against the ship-like swaying of Lopunny’s ass. While the Waitress was impressed with the dynamax transformation, the Newscaster was skeptic of their struggles, discouraged by the dynamaxing when she saw how lowly her Hawlucha compared to Lopunny once again. Indeed, the wrestling pokemon revealed unusual hesitation for her kind, still sore from the humiliation of their previous encounter, yet determined to fight and save her trainer. The Newscaster similarly resolved herself; “Like we planned,” she told the Waitress, “we attack together!”

“R-Right! T-Together!” the Waitress shivered, nearly rocked off-balance as Lopunny’s body began to curve – turning to face his pint-sized opponents. The Waitress shouted her command, “Tsareena! Hit him with your Trop-Kick!”

“Hawlucha, quick! High-Jump Kick!”

The pokemon pair leaped in sync, each charging illuminated energy into one of their legs, ironing themselves for a critical joint attack. High in the air, they each took aim at a different cheek of Lopunny’s ass, whipping their own style of kicks into the bouncy flesh – dynamaxed moves that could have toppled skyscrapers. That dual maneuver drilled into the fluffy hills, impacting the flesh with such power, yet relative to the double-dynamaxed Lopunny, it was only as effective as an equally-sized spank – far weaker than what either trainer had hoped for, yet still sudden and stinging, enough to electrify Lopunny’s expression and send a shiver rolling up his spine.

As they had expected, the Waitress and Newscaster then endured the shockwave that bobbed up the wavering ass, straining through the consequences of their own strategy. As Lopunny recoiled and spasmed, the two trainers were at risk of being thrown away, but their own pokemon were in the right position to rescue them. The Newscaster broke out of the fur, dragging the Waitress forward by the hand – “Jump! Now!” was as much as she could explain before she pulled both of them over the round edge, tumbling fast down the fluffy field of Lopunny’s ass, then exited out of the fur and into a freefall. The height was more extreme than either predicted, underestimating just how huge the colossal they had been clinging to truly was; they flailed in the open air, two specks shaken loose from a pokemon’s behind.

Tsareena and Hawlucha, however, were on point to save their respective trainers. After landing from their jump kicks, both thundered around the river into positions to catch the two mid-fall. The Newscaster landed safely in a net of wings, looked after by Hawlucha’s looming concern for her; the Waitress was wrapped by vine-like hands and immediately squeezed into a celebratory hug, nearly strangled by her overloving Tsareena.

A literal shadow was then cast over their reunion. The ass they had bombarded had risen higher, pointed as upwards as it could be, hoisted like a hammer ready to pound down. Lopunny had lifted his derriere to that supreme height with legs as stretched as they could be; a mean grin was nestled in his arms on the ground as he discerned the general location of the enemies behind him, taking aim to slam his weight over top of them both.

The dynamaxed duo reacted in time, dashing aside in opposite directions to dodge the giant butt-drop. As fast as they were to respond, the subsequent shockwave tripped both titans in their steps, flinging them forward into barrel-rolls of destruction; Hawlucha fell into a forested region where her crash-path created a streak of snapped trees and exposed earth, while Tsareena stumbled into the city, collapsing into a row of buildings that crumbled under her. A second later came the rest of the tremors, branches of fissures that divided roads and broke open buildings, all the result of Lopunny’s singular attack. Debris blanketed the ground and smog filled the air, an atmosphere of demolition that encircled Lopunny, who sat smugly in the now-emptied river, satisfied with what his unorthodox move had achieved.

Beams of psychic energy then zapped against his chest and stomach, reeling his attention forward again. Though unphased by the multicolored blasts, Lopunny was still surprised that the G-Max Hatterene had withstood the shockwaves and with enough spirit to keep fighting. She remained committed to the battle, one tentacle used to lash out attacks, the other wrapped around her exhausted trainer. Lopunny may have been under attack, but he grinned with inspiration, shifting excitedly in his crater as he decided how to use his feisty opponent.

Lopunny’s legs spread apart from how they had been kneeled, making a wide window of view to his crotch – soaked wet from his splashing in the river, the fur tangled and thick around the base of his cock. His erection pointed forward from his middle, aimed down the river trail where Hatterene stood her ground; his paws squeezed playfully into his plentiful thighs, inviting Hatterene closer – or perhaps beckoning her, his glare greedy and teetering into impatience.

Of course, Hatterene did not approach, instead firing another beam of psychic energy. It made little difference to Lopunny, who ignored the attack like before while reaching forward, claiming Hatterene in a fist and lifting her. She squirmed furiously between his fingers, proving lively for the exact purpose Lopunny had intended; not long did he admire her before wedging her into his groin, her struggles muffled into fluff and musk. Hatterene squealed uncharacteristically for her kind as her head was dragged up the length of Lopunny’s dick, her whole body stroked against the rod before being lowered and used again, and again. At dynamaxed scale, she was unfortunately perfectly sized for his pleasure, her slick and bendable features used to accentuate his enjoyment. The effect was as dizzying as it was disgusting, especially so for the tiny Tourist that had been brought along, trapped in her own Hatterene’s grasp and forced through the same ordeal – at an even smaller status compared to the double-dynamaxed pokemon, a perspective that saw the cock as tall as a signal tower.

After several pumps with Hatterene, a preemptive leak began, just as Lopunny’s smile shivered. Drops of his fluid boiled over from the head, dribbling down the underside and spilling over top of Hatterene. She thrashed as much as she could to keep the precum off of her, but her flailing attempts only included the Tourist into the mess, slinging her through long dribbles of white that were almost viscous enough to snatch her outright. Yet neither of their despairing was of interest to Lopunny, who was rather enthralled with the physical immersion – panting and chuckling, his mind was lost to lewdness, rapidly beating up and down in a haste towards release. The faster he went, the more violently Hatterene and her trainer were shaken, and thus the less lively they became, a consequence Lopunny begrudged as he hurried eagerly.

Since one toy was seemingly not enough to satisfy, Lopunny then looked for other sufficient playthings to add. Aroused to his limits, he drudged around and hungrily sought anything to electrify his experience. He clenched a building between his legs, crushing it and its contents flat; he stole handfuls of survivors from the wreckage, massaging them immediately into his chest fur; after rolling through the ruins, he lapped a crowd right off the street and into his mouth, feasting while maintaining his masturbating rhythm. Yet these tragedies were only dimly entertaining, the victims too small to be appreciated – unlike his earlier opponents, still dynamaxed where they had been subsided after his butt-drop.

Tsareena had just begun peeling herself off the fallen walls of an office complex when Lopunny’s rumbling reared onto her. On her hands and knees, she meekly looked up and around; Lopunny was upon her, his expression restrained in an attempt to keep his cheeks full with an unswallowed crowd. Her priority, even as weary as she was, was to protect her trainer, shielding the dazed Waitress with an arm crossed over her chest. She tried to stand with the last of her stamina, but fainted backwards when Lopunny’s nose suddenly got near – he sniffed her, an inhale that pulled at her leaf-hair, an adequate taste of her famously delicious aroma. Indeed, Tsareena recognized the shimmer of a predator’s instincts in Lopunny’s stare, but before she could dart away and flee, his mouth opened and lunged, biting her by the legs and dragging her up from the city debris.

From the waist down, Tsareena was engulfed into his maw, where the dozens of tinier people stored inside were splashed and slathered all around her lower body; the sprinkle-like citizens sprung her into tickled kicks and laughter, but far more punishing was the tongue itself, adept at exploring all of her crevices. Her flavor was inevitably released, an intoxicatingly sweet taste that enlightened both Lopunny and the many humans he swished cheek to cheek, prompting a hungrier response from all. Lopunny sucked on Tsareena like a candy while the crowds within clung and claimed any other part of her, up until they were chugged to the back of his abyssal throat.

The Waitress might have been spared a fate of being swallowed, but in the grasp of her struggling Tsareena, she was only inches from danger, swung back and forth by her own pokemon’s panicking. The commotion was too boisterous to give any commands to her Tsareena, try as she might to get her to listen and perform an attack; her voice was lost when she was suddenly pounded against Lopunny’s muzzle, an effort of Tsareena’s to dislodge herself from the mouth, pushing in vain against his lips. A hard wind began tugging at the Waitress, like a tornado wanting to take her – it was Lopunny’s breathing, her body pressed under one of his nostrils, every inhale a mighty gale as he continuously pumped at his cock and devoured more people. He was obsessed with Tsareena’s powerful aroma, unaware of her trainer’s placement, ever oblivious as he continued to suck and lick. The Waitress resisted with every fiber of her being, but the stormy breaths were too powerful, too persistent– “Nnnh…! N-Nooo! Tsareena, help me…!!”

Lopunny huffed and wrinkled his nose – a brief pause to his ritual, never realizing the itch in his nostril was an entire pokemon trainer. He proceeded as he had, urging Tsareena’s waist deeper into his mouth so that he could suck completely on her bulb-shaped dress. While drinking her juices addictively, his motions with Hatterene went uninterrupted, closer than ever to climax. Erotic twitches rolled down his tremendous shape, jitters and kicks that made half-toppled buildings shiver smaller around him; he found it fun to deliberately crash his feet through whatever structures were still standing, tickled by how the ruins and stragglers spilled between his toes, all a consequence of his sexual appetite. But after grinding away a radius of the city around him, Lopunny raised his heated head, seeking out some other toy to keep his feet entertained.

It was by scanning back around the river that he found an ideal subject. Nearly forgotten about, the dynamaxed Hawlucha was still laid out in the forest she had been thrown aside to, wearily lifting herself from a mound of devastated nature. She sifted through the woodland debris, pushing away piles of snapped logs, searching carefully for her trainer – the Newscaster had been dislodged from her pokemon’s grasp during the crash, fallen somewhere amidst the destruction. Hawlucha finally found her, dangling by a branch, only half-conscious; she took her trainer into her wing, but at the same time, they were remembered by Lopunny, who turned towards them legs-forward. Looming above were two paws with stamps of cityscape caked into the soles, ready to spring like twin serpents arching over the river.

Hawlucha dared to assume a fighting pose despite her exhaustion. She thought to defend herself honorably against the feet, but her preparation was justification for Lopunny to immediately strike. Though she braced for an attack, Hawlucha was yet overwhelmed when both paws clapped her on either side, smothering her into submission. She squirmed and squawked as she was lifted off the ground, held in the air by Lopunny’s feet; any looseness she achieved was aptly undone as the paws rolled around her, always asserting a grip that was unable to be broken from. Humiliated, Hawlucha glared at her opponent – yet even that sight was an insult, having an unobstructed view of Lopunny’s masturbating performance, to which the double-dynamaxed pokemon was pleased to have witnessed. No matter how Hawlucha reacted, it would always be in service of Lopunny’s sexuality.

It went unnoticed by either giant pokemon when the Newscaster slipped from her Hawlucha’s possession. She was accidentally released during one of Hawlucha’s struggles to escape, tumbling out of her wing and landing precariously elsewhere – that elsewhere was a bush of fur that welcomed her as it had with chunks and shards of city rubble, dropped in the obtuse area that was Lopunny’s toes. The knotted hairs tangled around her weakened form, locking her in place as the digits squeezed and curled her into a dark dankness. The same as her pokemon partner, the Newscaster was in an unforgiving bind, only except of being embraced between Lopunny’s paws, she was embarrassingly caught between just two of his toes, her plight passed over as an unrecognized itch lost in a ticklish dance.

With all three dynamaxed pokemon belonging to his whims, Lopunny reclined fully back into the buildings behind him, making a bed out of the survivor-riddled wreckage. Panting at his peak, his dick strokes evolved into hefty pumps and his paws pressed together more compactly, earning squeaks of agony from the appropriate playthings; while Hatterene and Hawlucha were nearly crushed where they were, Tsareena was made limp between his lips, drained of both her stamina and her flavorful juices, a snack waiting to be devoured. Before that, however, Lopunny dedicated himself to his climax – wriggling side to side, his shivers of suspense running through the landscape, his thrusts generating earthquakes like a wicked machine. A moan purred from him as he approached his conclusion, his ears listening well to the cacophony surrounding him as he escalated further and further–

Guuoooosh! It was a momentous eruption, an ejaculation into the sky that traveled slowly, thick and heavy like a fluid cloud, floating in the air before dully roaring downwards. Splaaaaaasshh! A flood was thus dropped over that spread of the city, trailing as far as through the forest and onto the roads beyond it. Viscous white slathered over everything in that direction, hitting the world with an audible smack and followed after with an oozing, flowing noise. Between buildings, traffic, and trees, Lopunny’s cum seeped – his emission overtook all passages, becoming streams that ran livelier than the natural river, gushing outward and taking all matters of property and people with it. Its salty aroma traveled in the air beyond the splash zone, reeking across the region, hazardously potent for anyone to try and breathe. Lopunny was agasp with pleasure as he admired his production, lurking forward from his bed with a wry smile and glowing eyes.

Only after enjoying his ecstasy did Lopunny begin to think about the toys that had rewarded him such relief. He first noticed Hawlucha, regarding her only because his spray had included his clapped-together paws, and thus her as well. Fatigued from all the ordeals, the bird-pokemon no longer had any fight; hung-up between Lopunny’s toes, she laid lifelessly, drenched under a coat of cum that discouraged her from moving. Similarly had Hatterene been punished by the orgasm, left in a ragdoll state collapsed over his cock, beaten down by having been used so vigorously. She barely had the energy to curl her tentacles, vaguely reaching for something to support herself with, but only able to grapple more of the dick’s length. The last to be recognized was Tsareena, still lodged into his mouth, most of her torso having been suckled inside – undetected for so long because of how limp she had become, her thin arms dangling outside the lips and her leaf-hair a saliva-slicked mess. Lopunny tickled her legs with his tongue, but despite his prodding, Tsareena was unresponsive, half-conscious in her half-eaten position.

Their states of despair were well-savored by their tormentor, celebrating his victory with a smug chuckle as he looked across the devastated cityscape. For a mile around him, civilization was in ruins – what had not been trampled existed in a clearly defined border outside the destruction, where buildings and bridges still stood, waiting to be used for his entertainment in a moment’s notice. That very fact dwelled deeply in the fears of evacuating citizens, those that were safe for the time being, but could instantly be involved once Lopunny had the will to play again. It was a bitter respite that they had any chance at all to make distance from the double-dynamaxed terror while he lounged in his afterglow, the sight of his faraway smile striking any onlookers back into fleeing.

However, soon after his release, a strange sensation overcame Lopunny, causing him to twitch and shudder in his crater. At the same time, an energy was exhaled from his three playthings – the exhaust of their dynamax power, exiting their enlarged bodies after having been defeated. Yet when the three pokemon began deflating to their normal sizes, they involuntarily sparked a phenomenon within Lopunny, triggering a tremor through his body that made him suddenly sit up onto his knees, convulsing as though he were pushed to his edge once more. He groaned, remembering the experience, feeling a warmth flow through his veins; as the others shrunk down, Lopunny sapped their lost mass, surging upwards to an even greater height.

Crowds at the outskirts of the city were in awe of the chocolate-brown fluff that was expanding into the atmosphere, so stunned by his swelling scale that all evacuations were paused under his stretching shadow. His own surprised expression turned in all directions, wide-eyed as the world around him dwindled – buildings that were ankle-high diminished to his paws, distances once out of reach became nearer. Soon was his waist growing into the undemolished, his fluff of fur overtaking the cityline surrounding him, catching structures into the fibers if they were not outright overrun by his expansion. His butt was particularly pushy, forcing room open for his seat to claim, quickly surpassing the crater he was previously able to lay in. Even the earth itself was strained under so much weight, breaking underneath him, shaped into a pit that appeared peachy when he later lifted his ass. Lopunny hobbled as he continued to pulsate bigger and bigger, rubble dusting off his magnificent form as he rose and looked over the city – a carpet of urban civilization compared to his multi-dynamaxed transformation.

With just a lick of his tongue, the crumb-sized Tsareena was swallowed, so insignificant that Lopunny never acknowledged her disappearance, nor had he any consideration for the others that had opposed him. Haterene vanished as a speck somewhere in the jungle of fur around his genitals; Hawlucha was unrecognizable, mired in a swamp of cum that pooled pitifully in a paw print crater. Though they had tried valiantly to restrain the loose Lopunny, their efforts had only amplified his rampage – just as the raid before against him had concluded, resulting in yet another boom of growth that spelled doom for Galar. A prelude of the region’s fate was about to unfold, as threatened by Lopunny’s looming stance, a suspense that stoked the fire of the crowds once again as he laughed excitedly, a wiggle in his cotton ball tail teasing his next intention.

The city that had entertained him had been outgrown, and thus outlived its usefulness to him. Under his grinning gaze, he scanned the lowly location from border to border, a distance he could then cross in just two steps. His feet were tempted to trample that short span in front of him, but he had a more effective idea than having to walk – and after a long day of apocalyptic playing and masturbating, Lopunny smugly decided that a rest was well-deserved. In the wave of his newfound scale, panic started up once again as his feet rose and fell, minor adjustments to him but that had massive consequences to the outskirts beneath him; he had simply turned around and restarted mayhem, but his rear-end pointing outward promised much wider devastation. He looked down over his shoulder, a paw pulling at either ass cheek, determining and assuring that his butt was large enough to overtake the entire city in one foul sit.

Whether or not that would be the case, Lopunny happily descended, curious to find out. It was a butt-drop of divine magnitudes, falling from the sky and breaking the cloud barrier. Helicopters and planes with evacuees were completely outmatched by its size; no aerial maneuver could escape such a massive ceiling of furry plumpness, and so they were the first victims of the attack, exploding like dust without at all staggering the meteoric movement. Pitch darkness took over in the final moments before touchdown, a night of no return, cast upon the city as it became a singular seat for the gigantic Lopunny. Next to be crushed were the tips of skyscrapers, crumbling faster than they could collapse, equally disintegrated as the aircrafts before them – level by level, his ass defeated all architecture, succumbing to his impossible weight like a cushion contorting to the shape, a cacophony of concrete that played out ominously in the few-seconds length of time it took for Lopunny to be seated–

Thooo-ooooo-ooosssshhhh!! A crushing of celestial proportions, announced to the greater world for hundreds of kilometers out, an impact that rattled a far-reaching radius with radical results. The city had disappeared under the fluff of Lopunny’s derriere, which had proven, indeed, to be obnoxiously big enough to conquer its entire map. Beyond its borders, however, were subsequent rings of destruction, geysering outwards around him as the earth fissured and sank beneath his bottom. Landmasses were melted down and forestscapes were swept away; suburbs suffered an unbearable hurricane of effects, caught in a cloud of earthen dust, houses and cars blown back and crashing into anything that withstood the wild winds; humans and pokemon stood no chance in that storm, buried under rubble or whipped into the sky, all life scattered by the tremendous boom of Lopunny’s landing.

And he had the gall to giggle at those tragedies, watching them unfold from his highly perspective, amused at how so much of the terrain was reformed just because he sat down. It was a consequence he would gladly adapt to, recognizing his latest transformation as a new size he would remain in, so titanic that the earth itself was going to continuously struggle to withstand his footfalls. No amount of grace would spare civilization – not that he had any intention of acting tenderly yet, even then still causing mayhem by brushing his paw through dusty ruins and knocking down any landmark that remained. Chaos reigned again whenever he adjusted his seat, stretching out his legs and reclining on the support of his arms, finally sighing with satisfaction when he was settled.

Only for so long would he stay still, however, as the sun setting before him made him aware of how weary he had become. While tens of thousands of civilians fled from his circle of destruction, Lopunny yawned epicly into the atmosphere – a cute noise of vocalization, amplified to supersonic status, trembling the air with its loudness. It left any survivors in the city deafened as they resurfaced to a world of debris and wreckage, numbing their senses as the massive pokemon shifted and curled, causing the landscape once again to split and stagger. It was no attack – he was merely laying down, smiling contently as his body overtook the bombarded setting, the remnants of the city and its fractioned population becoming his bed.

From afar, Lopunny could appear as adorable as any other of his kind cozying into their nest, but the up-close reality was grim and despairing. Webbed into his boundless fur were shards of civilization – strips of roads, sides of buildings; cars, trees, and even surviving citizens – a detail that he would also notice before falling into slumber. Beginning with his blanket-like ears, Lopunny combed through his fluff with his tongue, grooming himself clean of debris and anything else stuck to him, licking through knots of twisted structures with absolute ease. All had been made speck-sized to him, nothing outstanding enough to deserve his attention, even as he cleaned away locations and landmarks he could have recognized; segments of the sports stadium, one-half of a bridge, bits of the airplane he had toyed with – all the same gritty crumbs to the multi-dynamaxed Lopunny, undeserving of anything else except the cruel grasp of his tongue and the depths within him that followed.

The world was left bewildered as the Lopunny snoozed in his crater of a den. News of the catastrophe was declared internationally, the scope of danger beyond the realms of mythical pokemon or the plots of evil teams, embodied embarrassingly by the bunny pokemon. Asleep on his side, he laid as a snoring mountain – inevitably bound to reawaken and hop abound his newly-dwindled land. No longer was Galar alone in having to address the phenomenal situation, as all regions were coming together, deciding how to respond to such a global threat.

He had the world’s focus, and yet Lopunny slept soundly, pleasantly dreaming of destruction, domination, and dynamaxing again and again.