Chapter Text
Tighter and tighter the Arbok coiled, but his numb, paralyzed body could barely feel it. His limbs were pinned to his sides by the scaled muscles of the serpent, but even if they were free, he would have had no hope of escaping a Pokémon's far superior bodily strength. The fire of arrogant indignation and disgust he always carried warred against the deep cold of terror now forming in his mind. Shattered, suppressed memories he refused to acknowledge were being brought to the surface, their shards helping to smother his struggle.
The serpentine predator met his gaze, sharp and hungry glare drilling into his eyes, before continuing its weaving path upward. It wielded its hood like a cloak, clamping down over Arlo's head, shrouding him in complete darkness. Now, even if he broke through Paralysis to scream, no one would hear him.
There had briefly been the hope that the Pokémon was constricting just to eat him. But now, with the hood patterns beaming directly into his vision, that hope was fading, along with his inner flame. Against his will his body was going limp, leaving him soft, meek, and docile, the screams in his mind unable to reach the outside world.
Sensing the human's resistance slip away, the Arbok unclasped its hood and slightly loosened its coils, reaching its long neck back over their bound bodies. With its fangs it pierced the cuffs of his pants, making sure to not bite him in a surprising display of dexterity. Said dexterity stopped there, though, as it had to begin yanking and twisting its head around until the garments finally tore free. Now, with just a little shimmy from the snake, the last trapped fragments of fabric fell away from between their bodies, leaving the human's genitalia open and exposed.
As Arbok scented the air again, it drew in the stench of Arlo's fear, but more importantly, a second scent from between his legs - the intoxicating aroma of raw, heightened fertility. It was a pheromone that communicated directly to a Pokémon's instincts: this human was marked by Mew, ancestor of all Pokémon, and it invited- nay, commanded - all Pokémon who were capable, to rape and impregnate this human as many times as possible. While most Pokémon would have no desire to force themselves on humans, this pheromone was a mark of revenge, telling them all that Arlo had abused and murdered hundreds of Pokémon, and now it was time he re-contributed all of the lives he had taken. By Mew's law, Arlo MUST be bred.
The Arbok's heartrate quickened and it clamped its hood down over him again, the pheromone's command rapidly exciting its body. Arlo was nudged around and readjusted in its surrounding grip as it coiled its length to properly align with its much smaller partner. The slit in its scales already beginning to self-lubricate as it finally brushed against his cunt, the two pairs of lips meeting in a faux cloacal kiss.
Arlo could only sit there and take it. His body remained a motionless doll even as his mind screamed out in agony. This couldn't be happening again. Not again. The cacophany in his head was rapidly becoming a static that drowned out any coherent thought. Mind numb but screaming, paralyzed body submitting, ready to accept his fate.
The Arbok's hemipenes emerged from its slit, spines prickling at the one spot on his body still able to perfectly feel. With only a little grunt from the human, the twin cocks slipped in, almost laughably easily, their organs locking together as snug as a hand in a glove. It felt like the wet cavity was made just for the Arbok, the perfect receptacle for its pleasure and its seed. And by Mew's design, it would feel just as perfect for every other Pokémon that took him.
Arbok began jerking back and forth, the spines on its hemipenes scratching at his inner walls. Each thrust brought it a little deeper, and the spines prevented its backward motions from losing any conquered ground. Instead of in, out, in, out, the action was now in, in, in, IN.
Arlo finally cried out, but it was merely a weakling's whimper, a mewl that did nothing but arouse his mate further. His body had begun to heat despite the rejection of his mind, making his body a wonderful warming pad for the cold-blooded Pokémon. The steam of his breath was becoming trapped in the stifling cobra hood, only further clouding his head and making his little gasps and whines tingle pleasurably on the Arbok's chest.
Arlo felt no pain, save for the unwillingly erotic stings of the hemipenal spikes against his soft inner walls, and the terrible internal din of his soul being rent asunder. He knew that he would be seeded by this Pokémon, and a wombful of Ekans would soon be gestating inside him, unless someone came to his aid.
But the only one coming was Arbok.
In one great final heave, it thrust in and hooked against some inner edge deep inside him, and Arlo moaned feebly as the hot rush erupted into his depths. He could feel the Pokémon cum fill him like a flash flood, painting every bit of surface inside. Jet after jet plunged deeper and deeper from the little twin fountains. Mew's curse of fertility made his womb drink up all the seed like a starving sponge, but the volume and speed of the hot liquid the serpent was pumping in was outpacing the rate of absorption. By the time Arbok began to slow down, Arlo felt quite full in such a horrible, disgustingly wonderful way, and he knew fertilized eggs were likely already snuggling down into his supple uterine lining.
The Arbok held there, still locked inside to ensure every single little spurt and trickle it held would be deposited inside. At last it lifted its hood up, looking off into the distance as it listened to the human's steamed panting begin to warp into muffled sobs. A tiny bit of hesitation and regret flickered in its heart, knowing what it had done was unequivocally evil. But it was at the will of the great ancestor, Mew, a god among gods, so it would have been far more immoral to not obey... right?
Scenting the air again proved it was far too late for Arbok to change its mind, as the pheromone marker shifted from one of command to one of warning. It identified the human as pregnant with Pokémon offspring, and for him to be treated gently, not for his own health, but for the health of the far more precious life he now carried within.
Of course, this was never the end. As soon as the human gave birth, the pheromone would switch back to one of demanding his impregnation, and the cycle would begin all over again. But this Arbok felt it had done its part in Mew's will. It had forced itself upon the human against its own better judgement, and knew from his scent that he was now carrying at least one of its future offspring. With one last stinging internal kiss of its hemipenes, the serpent withdrew, uncoiling from the paralyzed human. Thanks to the curse, all of its seed would be absorbed, meaning none leaked out even as the Pokémon withdrew and slithered away. Nay, the only signs of what had happened here were the torn clothes, constriction bruises, chafing from scales...
...and of course, the new little weight already beginning to settle.