Dream Eater ~ Johto Adventures [Lady Grimoire x Viktoff Samson]

[Lady Grimoire]

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Dream Eater ~ Johto Adventures
Blake Black Klayton & Samantha Cross​

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Crackle, pop, pop. Bubblebubblebubble. A small flame flickered and danced beneath a squat silver pot, within which a broth bubbled, and rolled, making the occasional vegetable peek up from below. The scent wafted up into the air and permeated the area, and would likely be one of the first signs of people being present if one didn't notice the smoke from the flame. Rustling from the nearby tall grasses to either side of the road hinted that the scent had drawn the attention of some nearby Pokémon, the movements of the critters distinct from the rustle of grasses and trees due to the light breeze. A breeze which also helped the cooking meal's odour travel. An odour which, while not absolutely foul, did hint the cook could use a few... dozen lessons, and that anyone who might come to join them consider wisely the value of their tastebuds.

Just beyond the tall grasses lay numerous trees, though a fair few here and there rose up from the grass to partially shadow the road from the sinking sun. It wasn't quite yet night, but it was certainly only a few hours away, and the cool air had already settled in. The road itself was route 38, heading west out of Ecruteak town, towards Olivine City. That was where Samantha was headed: not for any particular reason beyond it was close to the ocean, and she was certain the lighthouse would provide quite the view. However, one unfortunate incident halted her progress and that was why she now found herself setting up camp several hours out from Ecruteak. Too far to walk back before the night set in when it was always more dangerous, especially with the rumours of ghosts about.

Her legs flanked either side of the fire, spread apart and stretched out leaving her black leggings hugging tight to her body. The heels of her bare feet rested on a pair of unworn sandals to keep them out of the dirt, and her knees were bent up to keep her bare, smooth legs off the dirt as well. Samantha had the legs of her bottoms rolled up to mid thigh, and it wasn't to make some lewd display. Anyone drawing close would see a fair few scrapes and cuts, like she'd been running through a thorned brush. There weren't more than a dozen or so, but that didn't make them sting any less! Regardless. The first aid kit she used to clean the wounds was open beside her, and she was occasionally grabbing bandages from it to place over the larger cuts in between stirring her meal and reading the book open to her opposite side.

"Ow! Ssss!" she hissed as an absentminded reach for the spoon in the pot made her fingers brush the burning hot metal exterior. She yanked her hand back and flinched, shaking her hand out in the air before more cautiously returning, stirring, and grabbing her fourth bandage. Her expression turning grumpy -- Samantha was not having a good day - her blue eyes kept that awful pot in the corner of them as she proceeded. The last thing she needed or wanted after earlier was a burn. Short, blonde hair spilled down around her face she leaned over, and inspected her toned, and slightly tanned skin for the next largest cut.

As one can expect of someone on a Pokémon adventure, the blonde was rather fit. Thin, but with toned muscles in her legs and arms that hinted at more than just someone who excercised--an athlete. Keen eyes spotting the one-piece bikini sticking out of the open knapsack leaning against the tree a few feet to her left might have a good idea what sport. Next to the knapsack was a smaller carry bag and purse, and next to those a drenched pair of purple sneakers. They were absolutely drenched and still wet, and if one wanted to know the depth of the puddle that was responsible for that they need only look up and to the right at the jeans hanging from a low branch. From knee-down they were dark and wet, and from knee-down torn and frayed in places. A bundled bedroll completed the gathering of Samantha's belongings, leaned against the tree to the other side of the knapsack.

Samantha shivered, and lifted her head to glance about. A sudden chill through her spine, and she considered grabbing her jacket. The violet halter top she wore left her arms and shoulders exposed to the crisp air, and any who might approach given she was camped out right beside the path. She was fortunate to find the small clearing for her little fire, and fortunate still that anyone approaching would see her from the side. The girl was quite oblivious to the way she sat, and the view anyone standing in front of her would see even with the fire and cookware in the way.

While she didn't appear to have a Pokémon with her at first glance, a close inspection of the first aid kit would show a miniaturized Pokéball resting in one of the open spaces, within easy reach. What Samantha Cross did appear to be was all on her own.

 

[Viktoff Samson]

A man with long dark hair and a silvery lab coat had traversed the dark and cold night forest. Without a light, he made casual steps forward and weaved between trees when neccesary. Like those dark pictures with a strange figure barely visible, at every angle, this man didn't shiver or pull out a phone for a light. As if he were comfortable moving from the couch to the kitchen in his own home, foot after foot, nothing slowed him down. Tall like a christmas tree and on the thin side, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for a child to mistake him for the well-dressed and faceless urban legend. Except for his long labcoat and flowing coal-like hair. To his amusement, the cold air had introduced a satisfying crunch in the grass with each of his steps.

The rustlings of wild pokemon seemed to grow as he moved closer and Closer to the next town. Without a phone light, or a flashlight, or the burning candle or a Charzard's tale, the man in the labcoat knew he wouldn't put off the tell-tale signs of being a human trainer. With this decision, he greatly reduced the chance of inviting wild pokemon encounters. The sounds he gave off with each step, his height, these were the only details that those wild pokemon had to measure how much of a threat he would be. Since wild pokemon don't tend to carry lights, and it's human nature to know where they might be stepping by using a flashlight, it wasn't too much of a stretch for these pokemon to be wary of approaching him.

Though outside observation might lead one to the idea that his decision to go without a light was directly related to keeping a low profile. This couldn't be entirely true. As the rustling subsided in some fashion, the young man had fished a candy cane from his coat pocket. His fingers worked the plastic wrapping over the craned end before he stuck the top of it in his mouth. The corners of his lips lifting as enjoyed the peppermint treat, absentmindedly allowing the scent of his treat to fill the air around him. His identity as a human, and possibly a pokemon trainer, now vividly obvious to the hoards of wild pokemon that surrounded him. Pokemon began to approach him from behind, a small one, he didn't care to identify it.

Becoming close enough for a vine whip, or a bubble attack, the small pokemon paused as if to ready for an attack. A tongue had grown to cartoonish size from nowhere before running straight up the face of the wild pokemon. That large tongue vanished as quickly as it appeared before the wild pokemon seemed to stiffen and fall over. Like a small toy being left behind, the man in the lab coat didn't look back or try to defeat or capture the paralyzed pokemon. None of the casual trainer pleasures to be had, the man in the lab coat had his eyes focused on a different set of pleasures as he continued moving forward. His curiosities pulling him in that direction as his pleasure was founded in answering the questions that spawned that curiosity.

"Good job, Ghastly." He mumbled flatly around his candy cane. The sound of a low cackle enchanting the air behind him.

Before long, the light of a fire caught this young man's attention as he previously traveled strictly in the moonlight. The fire glow was easy to discern, even with his distance. His steps grew in pace as he weaved around the nearby trees until he could see into the clearing, standing behind a single tree as his left eye peered through his glasses toward a beautiful young blonde. She was still so far away, his vision blured between her legs and her fire. Suddenly, his psuedo-romantic desire to study her would grow, and the physical contact required to adequitely pursue that studying would captivate his imagination. An invisible orb-like shape had brushed against his midsection, gathering his attention in an oddly pet-like way. Glancing to the side that was brushed, the young man let a warm smile grow as he removed the candy cane from his lips. Removing the plasting completely, the man dangled the treat in the air near him before releasing it. Immediatly, the treat would vanish.

The air around the young man now taking an intoxicatingly peppermint scent and flavor, he stepped out from around the tree and began his casual stride toward the woman. His height might have been intimidating, but his labcoat and relatively thin frame with glasses could be fairly disengaging. However, behind the rim of his glasses had set a cool set of facial features. Absent of color, minus the redness around the bridge of his nose, he would seem cold and yet darkly handsome. The paleness of his skin paired with his handsome features would certainly set him apart from the nerdy young pokemon trainers that would positively screech to catch a magnemite. He grew closer and closer as his eyes ran over the young woman, inevitably catching her attention as his steps would cause sounds that would grow louder than the flickers of her fire.

 

[Lady Grimoire]

Samantha continued her work--a bandage here, and a bandage there. Once the majority of the larger scrapes were covered up and protected, she leaned back, looking over her handiwork. She twisted her legs back and forth, half-lifting the side of her body opposite the one she twisted toward in order to get as good a look at the rest of her legs that she could. Nodding her head, satisfied, she took the Pokeball out of the medical kit, clicked it closed, and... paused. "Um."

In the end, she set the Pokeball down in the fold of the open book, then leaned in toward her food. She stirred it some more, then scooped up a little and brought it to her lips, slurping loudly as she gave it a try. Suddenly, her face contorted and scrunched up, her nose wrinkling, and she turned her head away, mouth wide, and tongue out. "Blech!" She dropped the spoon back into the pot, and was about to reach up to wipe her tongue off with her hand when the crack of the branches, and growing rustling in the grasses finally caught her attention.

Casually, Samantha looked over her shoulder, as though the expectation of it just being her imagination. When she saw the tall, labcoat-clad man not just there, but also approaching her. At first, her reaction was to just stare, then, her mind kicking in, she scrambled to her feet. The hurried motion kicks one of her sandals close to the fire, where the flames reached out toward it, starting to lap at the heel. Samantha stepped back, scrunching the pages of her book as her bare feet walked over it, then back further into the dirt, her heel knocking the Pokeball that was there off somewhere.

"... Hello." she uttered, while she bristled. Her face scrunched up again as she tried to figure out what else to say. 'Come on, you're being awkward again, Sam!' she thought. "Um." She glanced around her little camp, and her eyes settled on the putrid mash of vegetables, and broth bubbling away in her little pot. "Do you want some stew!?" she said. Her words not only sounded forced--from her pushing herself--but also, forceful. Like she was demanding an answer to that question. Which gave her pause, and made her hand snap up to her lips, uttering one final: "Um... " She didn't yet notice the smell of peppermint in the air, nor did she seem to be aware of the little pet with the man, she merely stared at him after that, a fairly wide mix of emotions playing across her features.

 

[Viktoff Samson]

Blake did notice her bandaging of her legs from afar. She seemed so deeply consumed in her bandaging, and he couldn't tell if she was in a deeper sort of pain as she didn't seem to being complaining. Most people he knew would cry out, especially if they were making contact with the area, if they were in a deeper sort of pain. As an assistant to many professors of the pokemon world, Blake wasn't unused to watching non-medical professionals dealing with wounds of the children who misuse their pokemon or underestimated wild pokemon. While one would be quick to point out that most of these victims were children, Blake's assumptions are not as flimsy as his sample variety is quite wide. One time, he even had to help a professor nurse a wound from a wild pokemon. Even old men cry, and that's one of the facts of life that has balanced Blake's expectations of humans.

As she noticed him, shortly after her cartoonish tasting of her food, he tilted his head a bit to the right. His curious eyes behind his glasses moving over her face to her eyes respectively. For ghost type pokemon, fueled by dark thoughts and intent, the aura that Blake gave off was more than potent. Sadly, humans possessed no such sense and the blonde wasn't likely to pick up on his evil heart before she'd become all too familiar with it in a much too personal and physical way. Her feet were bare and she was a rudimentary type of person, from what he could tell. A more down to earth, whimsical type. He was so sure that was a core factor in her personality before she really spoke up about her soup.

His smile grew soft as his features shifted just a bit as he looked to her preparing food. Ghastly remaining invisible to her as humans can't see ghosts by normal means, the pokemon levitated over her stew and took a whiff. The reaction on Ghastly's face was quite adorable, but quite illustrative of the the experience he'd be signing up for if he agreed to have some of her stew. "Sorry, no. I ate already." He declined her with a lie as easily as rain drops fall. His strength in deception was more potent than chronic liars as he could demonstrate an ungodly restraint in telling fibs when it was in his best interest. "Are your thighs okay? You don't think you were attacked by an ekans or an unclean rattatta, were you?" He asked in a mock of kindness, though the gentle wisps of firelight that flicked over his features would fail to give this away. He reached up to his glasses and lifted them gently up his nose before taking another step closer to her, his eyes falling to her bandages.

"What I mean to say is, are you okay?"

 

[Lady Grimoire]

The look that the man before her gave was somewhat unnerving. Samantha just filed that away in her mind as not being used to people, and the surprise though, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. That and he wore a labcoat, which made him some kind of scientist, she reasoned. Scientists were weird, or so the gossip she'd picked up in her younger days told her. Having no real basis for comparison, it was a thing that had stuck with her for some time. "Oh... Alright." she answered to his declining her foot, leaving her defensive, surprised posture to deflate some. "My thighs?"

She glanced down, then winced, dancing in place some as she shifted her weight from foot to foot before finding a stance with most of her weight on her left leg which made the stinging minimal. Her other foot mostly lifted from the ground, resting only lightly up on her toes. "Oh. Um. Yes. I'm fine, I'm alright," Samantha said, nodding her head to go along with her answer. "Just stings a bit. The... whatcha callit... " A brow quirked as she thought for a moment. "Disinfectant. Probably. The reason, I mean."

Then, she shrugged, and awkwardly glanced down to her feet. A few questions ran through her mind. Why are you out here? What do you want? Are you sure you don't want any stew? Samantha thought some sounded accusitory, others just plain stupid to ask. "Um... " she uttered to fill her silence, then she looked back up before starting over toward her little fire. She was clearly starting to relax some, partly due to her own preconceptions, partly due to the tone the other man took.

"I'm Samantha!" she said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. She slumped and softly sighed after, deciding she should maybe explain? "I dunno what it was. Me and Setchi were just b... SETCHI!" Samantha spun around in place, looking for the Pokeball she clearly hadn't noticed she kicked with her heel. Then, she paused, looking to the man before her. She clenched her teeth nervously, one of her fists balling up, and coming open a few times, making her knuckles pop. Then, a smile, unable to bring herself to ask for help, she just turned back around and dropped to her hands and knees in the dirt, feeling, and looking around for that errant Pokeball. Which is a bit counter-productive to the care she'd taken while bandaging her legs, which she was now scuffing about in the dirt, and it left her form-hugging pants-covered rear aimed in her guest's direction, her oblivious of the sight it must have provided.

 

[Viktoff Samson]

Blake watched as the young woman danced about on her feet until her left leg bore the brunt of her weight and her right foot was on it's toes. She was such a physical creature, and he adored this aspect. She communicated in ways beyond words and tone as her body seemed proficient in a language all of it's own. This was a sign to Blake that his potential prey wasn't anything like himself. A world existed in Blake's head. Curiosities and his imagination drove him to learn through experimentation. The only exercise he would get, which was plenty, would be chasing after pokemon to learn their habits or playing with the numerous Ghost pokemon that used to cling to him. A fond warmth entered Blake as he let the memories of the Ghosts playing tag and such child games wash over him.

And that warmth was suffocated as he remembered the once failing health of his previous professor, how that professor's Daughter must have been a woman more like this one before him. Science was clearly beyond their interests, Blake couldn't find a trace of deep critical query with this woman's actions. As though the goodness of humanity was some general benefit of doubt that she had granted unto him, or if she were truly oblivious to the physical needs of a man, her reaction to his presence was simply as innocent as could be. That both entertained and disappointed Blake in one swoop. "So you are taking proper care, then? That's good." He sounded genuine, which was simply his power of lying being flaunted. Blake simply didn't have a functioning human 'heart' in the aspect that others refer to. His bumped blood, and that was just about it.

As appropriate for whatever social disorder Blake possessed, he simply didn't require the attention or desire of his partner to foster lust for them. Nothing is a two way street by design for Blake. He tried to pay attention to her words as she began to run on about something as he watched her eyes closely. Her sudden raising voice and turn to search had proven to be quite the jolt that delivered alertness throughout Blake's body. A sudden sense of truly being awake had gripped him in time to see the form-fitting pants hugging her bootiliciousness. In this precise moment, her prey status was fully established. What laid in wait for him beneath those form hugging pants had simply ignited his passion for discovery in a way that the study of pokemon never ever would.

With a creeping, wintery smile inking across his lips, Blake stepped closer and closer to her. Each step felt like it took forever and though she was only a few feet away, he wondered if he was making any progress at all with his approach. Maybe it was the sugar from his treat just prior or perhaps his boundless, boyish glee, but Blake felt the fluttering of evil bat wings from within his cold chest. "Gastly, Lick." He commanded casually. His life long pokemon companion knew well that Blake was both intelligent and possessed endless mutual interests for their partnership, so he simply never disobeyed. The purple and black gas ball pokemon solidified right in Samantha's face. Few humans run into a Ghost pokemon so suddenly like this without being caught in frigid horror. The pokemon's large eyes and mouth opened wide with exaggerated chuckles as his candy scented breathe escaped him like a cloud to surround her face. Just as the scent would overpower her, the Gastly's tongue grew in size and ran directly up her chest, neck and face. A trail of slobber being left on her top, her neck and the skin of her face, ending before her eyes. This lick was powerful enough to paralyze a snorlax, at times. Surely a human like Samantha would fall victim to this.

 

[Lady Grimoire]

The distressed young adult ignored the ache in her legs as she searched about in the dirt for her partner. Scuffing it up to her left, the to her right, as her hands made broad, sweeping motions, seeking out that errant, tiny Pokéball. The look on Samantha's face betrayed the thoughts running through her head. 'Where is it, where is it, where is it!?' It isn't until Blake spoke that the frantic blonde's searching came to a pause, a little, "Uh-... " escaping from her lips as she twisted some to peer around behind herself at him. "... What was that?" The slight tinge of hopefulness in her voice, genuinely looking like she had misheard him, and that he had just pointed out where what she was searching for was... despite the fact she'd never actually even stated what the fuss was about, nevermind asking for the help.

Then, she made perhaps what was a mistake of looking back to the area she'd been searching. The realisation that perhaps what she was doing wasn't the best way of going about it dawning on her as she fell back to her hands and knees to continue the search. 'Don't I have a flashlight?' Samantha's head perked up at the thought, blue eyes focused on her bag, and she took a 'step' toward it -- not noticing the steps that had drawn Blake closer -- when the... well, her mind hadn't had the time necessary to process what it was, nor did she much have the time to react, even, call out. Her face winkled up instinctively from the scent, eyes widening in a combination of shock and horror, but that was all before the tongue touched her skin.

What felt like a thundershock from a Mareep ran through her whole body, just without the pain, and it made all the muscles in her body tense, and seize -- from her fingers suddenly clenching into the dirt, to her toes curling and scrunching up, both quite visible thanks to the lack of footwear. "Nnngh!" she cried finally from that surprise, through a clenched-shut and seized jaw, teeth softly grinding together as she tried to part her lips once more. Even her rear tensed up, clenching some in those pants, whether this made the sight of it more, or less appealing to the man behind her is anyone's guess.

With eyes half-closed, forcing her to squint as she struggled to keep them open, Samantha's whole body trembled, and shook. Part from the effect of the paralysis, part from her those same struggles to regain some semblence of control over her own body. Panic swelled up inside her mind, and for the moment, Blake was entirely forgotten. Her left hand jutted foward sharply, digging so deeply into the dirt it left a trail, but the action only made her wince. The effect was more massively uncomfortable than painful, but forcing movement seemed to make pain shoot up the affected limb, like cramps she'd gotten from swimming. "Mmmmp!" She grimaced, as if this all wasn't bad enough, her mind finally registered the wet, slobbery trail running up a chunk of her body, which likely would have drawn another 'blech' of disapproval had she the motor function to be capable of it.

'I-I can't move! What's.. happening!?' A good look into Samantha's blue eyes would tell anyone that's what she was thinking in that moment. As she rested there and hands and knees, frozen in place and unable to move behind some twitching, shaking, and short, sharp pained bursts of movement; she was helpless, vulnerable, and probably in exactly the position Blake had been hoping for.

 

[Viktoff Samson]

A pleased smile rippled over his face. How could a woman let her guard down so utterly and completely right in front of a big sex hungry man like this? Of course she wasn't a kind reader and Blake didn't exactly run right at her shouting about how he was going to introduce her womb to an avalanche of virile stinky cum- Or anything. Surely, whatever she was hoping to find must have been more important to her than her own safety. Blake wouldn't doubt that this young woman possessed something that valuable to her. It was unmistakably human to apply completely warped values to various objects. Going so far as to carve a shape in disposable wood and worshiping as a symbol of their imagined creator diety. Either way, Blake smiled upon his properly paralyzed fuck pet that was clenched into her hands and knees with her rear towards him. What a good girl, already prepared for her first time and with her new master. Blake smiled to himself, mentally accepting his own label of being a delusional bastard.

With a whistle, he closed the distance between them and kneeled down behind her. "What a pretty little blonde pet. Sorry, but I have tricked you. Don't linger on thst regret too long, I want your full attention back here." His groin pressed to her back side. "Gastly, go find our flying friend and return them with my bag to this location." Blake instructed, and the ghost pokemon quickly flew off into the trees. "Based on the potency of this condition inflicted by a pokemon's attack, factoring your apparent body mass, I estimate that you'll experience this gruesome state for a good hour." He bucked his hips to shove her ass with his groin, forcing her to feel the jolt of discomfort thst was just so powerful. "I've been hit by this condition before. The sensation of a stepping on a sleeping limb, but millions of times worse. I wondered to myself in that prolonged moment of helplessness... How long could a woman's psyche withstand a good ass raping with every motion was just so magified? You'll be a masochist before long, love. Don't be afraid."

He was aware that his words simply were not comforting, she would most likely still be afraid or upset. Humans don't generally enjoy losing their agency. Without his bag of goodies, Blake would have too stave his hunger in smaller ways. He didn't intend to fuck her ass raw as that would only cause pain. As a bit of a sadist, that may be a little fun, but he wanted to invite a duality into her heart and cunt that would forever plague her. Igniting a masochistic streak inside her would be ideal, he wanted her to grow to love and admit to herself that she was a little piggy for his cock and cum and punishments. While it was likely that she would tell herself to hate all of it, if she could excuse the fact that he might make her orgasm, then her heart may be his sooner than she'd expect. It took a certain kind of sick puppy like Blake to want this enslaved obedience from a woman. Healthy guys never dreamed of breaking a woman down like this, raping her until she loves it. Of course, Blake had his research to entertain as well.

"Here, while we wait, how about I keep you warm, hmm?" He grinned wide with his sly muse in his voice, knowing it would be almost painfully uncomfortable for her to muster up even a single grunt of disapproval. His hands snaked into her pants and panties, peeling them down over her thighs. Before moving on, his hands took her ass cheeks and played with them. Her soft skin and shapely booty was quite a majestic experience for Blake. "You have such a fuckable ass, pet. You must work very hard to let your peers see this wonderful ass and play with it. You want some whimsical boy to play with you, that's why you work out so much. What a pervert." He makes assumptions and declares them to her, enjoying the fact that she was his puppet now and she was in an impossible state to form a disagreement.

Leaning over her, his hands left her ass while she was forced to feel her groped buns press against his pants and large bulge. His hands now slid up her shirt and removed any sort of bra she might wear. His greedy, energetic but clever and careful hands both unveiled and took her breasts into his cupped palms. The tips of his fingers rounded her soft breasts as he guided her hair away from her ear with his nose and licked at the folds in the top of her left ear. His breath, touch, tongue and body would continue harassing her like this. A low groan left his lips for her ear as he had her rear's warmth soak over his bulge through his pants. As though she were the dog to breed and he was a big prized beast, her once humble little makeshift camp was their pin and he was messing with her good. As the soaring wings of his second pokemon partner sounded off, he stood on his knees again and caught sight of his Noctowl and the duffel bag of toys and goodies.

"Atta boy!" Blake spoke as the duffel bag dropped right infront of Samantha's face. Leaning over his paralyzed little fuck pet, Blake unzipped the bag as he somewhat cuddled over her like this. The sight of a few varying sized vibrating dildos, condoms, lubricants and many other toys would be completely visible to the sexually abused girly. With glee, a pair of padded cuffs were dug out from the bag as Blake clasped them around Samantha's ankles before pulling out another pair and a pillow. It wasn't the softest, but it was better than getting his fresh new doll's face all filthy with dirt. Setting it before her, he pulled out her hands from beneath her to get her head on the pillow. He slapped the second pair of cuffs on her wrists, now set over her tail bone. "Whew. We are not even done preparing yet." He remarkes with glee, pulling out a ball gag and forcing it between her teeth, fastening the leather straps behind her head. Surely, the pain of grinding her teeth together would be relieved and add to that sense of duality he was hoping for. However, Blake couldn't be entirely sure.

"Now I have you all wrapped up, but I bet you're still cramping and aching with that condition. Time to test my theory!" He proclaimed happily, warmly. With a quck grab of a tube of lube, he stood up on hus knees to read it. Delighted he managed to grab a lube with an icy than hot sensation that was sure to light her insides up nice and juicy, he squirted a whole bunch over her ass cheeks. Sure, it wasn't an oil to make her ass all slippery, or that wasn't it's intended purpose, he wanted to soak that potentially aphrodisiac effect into her skin as well. Taking his middle finger, he swabed up a goop of the lube and than rubbed it into her tight asshole. Just running this lubed finger over her asshole was quite a happy moment for Blake, he smiled wide as he tortured her like this. With an occasional hard sloppy spank to make her ass nice and red, and quick probing to pressure her anal resistance, Blake continued to fuck with her without penetrating her.

 

[Lady Grimoire]

If Samantha could read minds, the thoughts going through the head of the man to her back would have, without a doubt, made her livid. At least, a short time before his words did the same; she might have even had a warning. Regardless, the whistle reminded her she wasn't alone and her head turned slightly, accompanied by a groan of pain. "Mmm-rrrrrr!" An awkward growl escaped her clenched jaw, as she bristled from the touch and realization the scientist was responsible. 'Back where? What!?'

The young trainer tried to turn her head more as confusion grew. Was she being robbed!? Kidnapped!? That she might be stuck like this made her leg sharply move a few inches back, digging into the dirt as she tried to instinctively kick her assailant. On one hand: she quickly learned her mistake as pain shot right up her leg from the forced movement and left her stifling a cry of pain. The bump broke the silence and she did cry out at the horrible feeling. If the man could only see her face, he'd see the growing anger in a pained, dagger-filled glare. "Unnngh!?" she cried when he stated his intent. 'He's going to--what!?'

The real terror of it all only set in when the blonde felt the hands slip inside her clothing. Her eyes squeezed shut, the opened, again, as though trying to wake up from a bad dream. Her stomach knotted up, and she let out a cry from the combination of trying to shake the hands away from her body, trying to clench her thighs to keep hold of her pants, d trying to crawl forward. The moment his hands touched her bare cheeks she shuddered from both the cool air, and disgust. He wasn't really going to do this, was he!? He wasn't actually going to do anything to her there!? Difficult to object, sure, but not impossible. Another struggled growl came to his words.

A simple sports bra was under her top, and with no clasp to speak of the white garment was easily pulled up as the matching panties were pulled down. "Nnnnngh!!" she cried out her objection right before those hands sent her into a fit of pained whimpers, twitches and convulsions. Her body wanted to double over and curl up at the same time it wouldn't let her, and paralysis coupled with having such a sensitive place touched for the moment robbed her mind of conscious thought. Samantha's head yanked an inch or two to the side st the feel of the tongue, accompanied by more pained whimpers. When he leaned over, her back arched slightly, trying to minimize the contact. Blue eyes reappeared as she struggled to open them some at the noise. Catching sight of what was open inside made them open more. What are those!? What's that for!? He's not going to put those--!? Whether it was the sight, the feeling of what was brushing against her from behind, or something else her cheeks had flushed red. Likely a combination of anger and the humiliation... But she didn't have long to think.

Samantha's hands being taken and pulled out from under her forced her eyes wide and she let out the loudest cry of pain and discomfort yet, a garbled scream from in her throat at the sensations shooting up both her arms at once. What resistance she offered was little more than a token effort; reflexive tugs to regain the use of her arms. Then, they were trapped behind her back, and she was settled flat on her stomach, body giving the appearance that she was spasming from sharp pains to her midsection as she jutted from aide to side over the actual struggling she was doing. The gag was actually the hardest of all to take care of, her jaw sealed shut from her tensed and seized body, and her wanting to keep it that way. But there was nothing she could do once the fingers got passed her teeth and pried her mouth open like some kind of hunting trap beyond yell out her anger right before that trap snapped shut around the red and white ball.

For a brief moment Samantha wanted nothing more than to yell "I'm not some experiment for you to test theories on!" But all she could muster was a little whimper, and blinking back the water that had swelled up in her eyes. A little trickle running down from the far corner of each blue orb as she took in sharp, huffing breaths as someone would while absolutely livid. A ... somewhat pleasant sensation on her rear made her force her head to turn, landing on the pillow on her left ear, then struggling to lift up so she could peer over her shoulder. "Oppppfffffiiiit!!" she yelled into the gag, her best pronunciation of the words "Stop it," each brush of that finger that came close to penetrating making her clench sharply. And each spank drawing a grunt as her fingers stretched out in some pathetic attempt to stop it herself.