The first reflection of the day was at 5 in the morning, every day. Reflections happen three times a day - each consists of about an hour of meditation for the entire covenant of the Temple. Autumn shifted in her seat next to you, unable to concentrate, trying to distract herself from her utter boredom. Being young, she of course hated long, quiet ceremonies like these, and you could never get her to sit still during the meditations, much to everyone else’s annoyance. You found meditation similarly boring and pointless, of course, but you had gotten used to the reflections over the years. The second Ecclestar announces the reflection is over, Autumn immediately bounds up onto her paws. While the rest of the monks are wrapping up, she practically drags you into the hallway by your scruff. “Come on, come on!” She says. “I gotta show you how good I am at battling!”
“Hold on now,” you chuckle as you lightly push her away. “I have to go hunt first. Why don’t you just practice a bit for now?” Satisfied, Autumn nods eagerly at this proposition and scampered down the hallway to the training grounds. You watched her as she went, smiling, before making your own way out the front entrance. Even living at the temple, you had some… predatory urges you had to satisfy. This kind of thing tends to make the herbivores living at the Temple uncomfortable, so you had to hunt among the steppes far away from the main building. The Pokémon there tended to be small and weak, and weren’t nearly as nutritious as what you used to eat, but you found that if you swallow them whole, a single Rattata could keep your hunger satiated for a day or two. You emerged outside just as the sun was rising, illuminating the miles upon miles of beautiful wilderness stretching out beneath the mountain. You skipped along the mountainside, making your way along the side of the slopes for about half an hour until you reached the hilly field covered mostly in grass and snow that you were looking for. As you slinked through the grass, you made out a blurry brown shape in the distance. As you closed in, taking cover behind the trees, you laid eyes on an inattentive small Pokémon - a Linoone. It wasn’t much, but it was much better than the Rattattas and Swinubs you would normally eat. As he seemed to be too preoccupied trying to burrow through the permafrost to pay attention to his surroundings, you managed to sneak close enough to pounce, pinning the smaller rodent to the ground.
You reached your head down and pressed your teeth against his throat, as if going in for the kill. Instinctively, the Linoone tensed up, preparing for oblivion. But instead of ripping his throat out, you simply withdrew and lifted your head once again. This disoriented the Linoone, and for a second he had a glimpse of hope in his eyes as if he thought you were planning to spare him. But he had no such luck; before he could figure out what you were really trying to do, you had already wrapped your jaws around his head. Your throat muscles clamped around his snout immediately, preventing him from screaming as his head was lodged in your wet, waiting maw. Now that his fate was sealed, you took a moment to wipe away any hesitation in your heart. He may have a life, a family… but to you, he was food now, made for your enjoyment and nothing else. You wiped away all the extraneous details from your mind. After all, what more honorable way to die is there than serving to prolong the life of another?
Your prey was immediately overcome by terror once the disorientation wore off and he realized what kind of grisly fate awaited him, and pushed against the sides of your maw. This worked, for a few seconds- but suddenly, his paws slipped, and he accidentally wedged them into your throat. You mewed in amusement at you took advantage of his mistake, pulling your head back and lifting his lower body up in the air. He kicked his paws futilely as you bobbed your head back and forth, bringing him deeper with every movement. The effect was exponential- the more of the Linoone that was enwrapped by your throat muscles, the more you brought him inside with every gulp. Now that his chest had entered your throat and his paws were pressed against his sides, his movements slowed as the sheer tightness of your throat disoriented him. He could barely breathe as your throat muscles squeezed and masticated his small, fragile form. You even heard a CRACK and a yelp as some of his ribs caved in. Hold in there, little guy, you think to yourself, intoxicated by your own power and cruelty. You haven’t even reached the best part yet.
You hurried up in your swallowing, trying to pull him in your belly before he could suffocate in your tight throat. Within seconds, his snout pushed through the sphincter and into the malleable sac hidden within your gut. You finally wrapped your tongue around his hind paws, trying to pull them inside and close your mouth around them. Eventually, you managed to close your snout, and his entire body was wrapped in your unbearably warm, wet insides. Your throat bulged to seemingly impossible degrees, shifting and undulating as your prey struggle within. It was so tight, it was possible to make out every detail of the Linoone’s body through your thick skin, and he could hardly move a muscle. Hope you aren’t claustrophobic, you think with a chuckle. The bulge in your throat shrunk as your belly expanded in turn, and your stomach was filled with the Linoone’s crumpled, wriggling form. You cough up a few tufts of his fur as you roll over onto your back, relaxing, kneading your gut with your paws. Something about swallowing prey whole and alive was exhausting, but somehow deeply satisfying. It was like being pregnant again.
Eventually, you were content with your breakfast, and trekked back up the mountain to the Temple. You stumble a little bit as step inside, as your prey begins struggling with renewed vigor as digestion starts to take effect. Some of the newcomers to the Temple looked terrified at the sight of your distended belly, tiny paws making an imprint in the sides. You give them a sly, taunting smirk before walking off, letting your belly swing to and fro under you, showing it off to other members of the Temple. Most of them simply rolled their eyes at the display, as they were used to it by now, but some of the newbies ran away or hid. You eventually find Autumn clawing at a torn-up punching bag on the training ground. She turns to smile at you before you even announced your presence. “You’re back already?” She asks, before seeing your distended gut. “Whoa! He’s still squirming in there!” You smile as she hopped forward, pressing her forepaws against your bulging stomach, curiously rubbing and inspecting it. You didn’t stop her. She had to get used to this kind of thing, considering she was going to be a predator someday. Besides, getting your belly rubbed while someone’s wriggling inside is one of the best possible feelings.
“Just a little Linoone,” you smile, leaning back in relaxation as small paws kneaded your sensitive stomach.
“What’s it like for him, to be in there?” She asks, absentmindedly. You grimaced. You hated when she asks questions like that. How do you explain the fate of your prey to a child?
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” you reassure her, simply. “Now, why don’t you show me what you’ve been practicing?”
“Oh, yeah! Check this out!” She says, turning her attention away from your gut and rushing back to the punching bag. She demonstrates the four moves you taught he on the target, and you were immediately impressed by her progress. She used to be incredibly clumsy with her attacks, but in the past few months, her dedication to her training had increased, and it had apparently paid off. But your excitement fades, and as you watch her, doubt starts to creep in as an epiphany reaches you. Had you been being overprotective all this time? Her training was going well, but beating up a punching bag was nothing compared to real combat. When you were her age, you had already been in dozens of battles. By keeping her at the Temple for so long, had you kept her from getting vital, real experience? “So? What do you think? How am I doing?” She turned to you after finishing her demonstration, wiping the sweat from her brow, though your attention had turned from her a while ago.
“Oh, uh… you're doing great, sweet,” you say, snapping out of your worrying. “In fact… I think you’re ready to go to the forest.” Immediately upon hearing these words, her eyes lit up with more excitement than they had in years.
“I’m going to the forest! I’m going to the forest!” She immediately stood up and sung, dancing in a little circle.
“Now, now, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you laugh. “You’ll still need Ecclestar’s permission, too.” But your words of reason don’t seem to deflate her youthful optimism in the slightest. She continues chattering about the possibilities, the boundless adventures she could have in the great forests. Her naiveté was charming, but it was also slightly worrying. In reality, there was nothing “fun” or “adventurous” about the wilds. It was a savage and heartless place, and you’d hate to see it crush her innocence. Ugh, why did parenting have to be so difficult?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
