It was all dark and he was falling. His body felt light, like he was only an outline of himself drifting through some void. His head felt soupy, like he was fresh from delirious sleep. He could feel his limbs, outstretched, but found he couldn't move them. He fell for what seemed to be an eternity before it came to an end in what felt like sitting in a mostly uncomfortable chair. He tried to adjust, to find a comfortable spot, and still found he had no control over his own body.
Well, this fucking sucked.
He stared off into the featureless dark, trying to perceive any possible shape, anything recognizable. But there was nothing. So he must be dead, then. That could be the only logical conclusion, right? He was dead and, given the looks of things, hadn't ended up in a very good place. Was this meant to be eternity? He tried to move again and found it a complete impossibility. Well, he couldn't help but to admit that maybe he deserved it, but that didn't make him feel better about the situation.
There was a building sound, like wind whipping together, and a loud pop and before him was a chair, and a women sitting in it. She had short pink hair and wide, expressive blue eyes. She wore a similarly pink dress that went to mid-thigh. In her hands she held a clipboard and a pink pen, which he thought was sort of excessive. “Sorry for the wait,” the woman sighed. “There was a... mix-up that we were trying to get sorted out.”
He tried to speak and nothing came out.
“Well, I suppose I should start with the basics. You're dead. Maybe you figured that out, already. You're currently in what we call a nexus, some place in between worlds. Normally we would have shipped you off already, but like I said, there's been a bit of a clerical error,” she flipped through some pages on the clipboard. “Before I get much more into that, I'd like to ask how much you can remember. Anything at all that comes to mind.”
He found feeling returning to his throat, his jaw, and he could feel his tongue press around his mouth. He tried to speak again and there was a dusty croak, a click from somewhere deep in his throat. Just that simple act seemed to exhaust him and he sunk (as much as he could with no apparent body) into the chair. “You're probably still tired from dying. Seems here like it was quite traumatic! That's okay. You won't need to know anything where you're going,” she cleared her throat, flipped more pages. “So, you see, originally your soul was destined for Hell. But I'm afraid that your name was quite similar to another person's, you see, and the two of you were mixed up.
“Now, we've already shipped the other one off to Hell, and there's so take backs,” she said. “Lucky for you! Looks like you've avoided eternal punishment despite all your heinous crimes. Now, we must still fulfill this order for a soul, so you'll be taking their place. Do you understand? You're going to be reincarnated into another world. Is this all making sense to you?”
He gave his best shrug. The woman seemed to accept that as an answer. “You'll be, let's see here... an eighteen year old boy from the Kanto region by the name of 'Red.' Today is the day you and two others will be receiving your first pokemon. Well, isn't that special.”
He tried talking again and realized that he could make sounds, but now it seemed like he had forgotten what words were. That's what it felt like, anyway. And none of the things this woman was saying seemed to be real words. What the hell was a Kanto? “Okay, you should be able to get a handle on things from there. It's a simple world, so you should be able to adjust without ostracizing yourself,” the woman set the clipboard aside. “You'll be waking up in bed, and things might hit you all at once, so if you feel a sense of dread and rising panic, just know that is completely normal. Expected, even.”
If any of this was supposed to be comforting, it was not.
“I suppose we should get you out of here,” she smiled. “Are there any last questions you'd like to ask before you go?”
He rallied himself together and forced the words out of his throat. “You... have nice... tits.”
She looked down at her ample breasts, pressing against the fabric of her dress. “Well. Thank you.”
She snapped her fingers and the world exploded with light.
He woke up in bed, staring at a soft blue ceiling illuminated by gentle morning light, repossessed of mortal flesh. His vision was sleep bleary and he rubbed at his eyes. What the fuck had that been all about? He pushed himself to a sitting position. It all seemed like a distant dream, the woman in pink, and yet here he was... somewhere that seemed distinctly not where he had been before, though he couldn't really recall his world of origin, either.
He looked around the room. It was decorated with posters, stuffed toys, all of a large variety of creatures. There was only one he really recognized, a yellow mouse looking thing with red cheeks. “Pikachu,” he muttered, and nearly jumped at his own voice. Rather, he jumped because the voice coming out of him wasn't his own. He got out of bed and went to the mirror. The face looking back wasn't his own, or at least he knew it wasn't his... but he couldn't remember his old face, either. The person he was now at least seemed handsome. He ran his hand through his hair, brown and messy from bed. Then he paused, and tugged at the waist of his pants.
Oh, thank God. At least he was hung.
He went to the window and peered out it. Where ever he was seemed like a pleasant little village with rolling green hills and several windmills dotting the landscape. He watched a flock of birds fly through the air, small brown and white things. They almost seemed like normal birds, “almost” being the operative word. There was something off about them. He rubbed his chin, stalking back to his bed and taking a seat. What were those things called?
He looked again at the Pikachu poster.
“Holy shit,” his eyes widened. All the puzzle pieces seemed to click into place then. “Pokemon. I'm in fucking Pokemon!” He fell back onto the bed, a grin plastered across his face. So that whole thing with the woman in pink had been real. It hadn't been some hallucination, some strange fever dream. He'd really been born into a new world... one ripe to take advantage of. Right? What would the consequences be? The woman had said it was a simple world to the point that he wouldn't have to remember that he was “really” some kid named Red. All at once his mind was reeling from the possibilities.
Anything he wanted.
From downstairs, a woman's voice called, “Red! Sweetie, are you up? It's time for breakfast!”
He took a minute to compose himself, to tamp down the welling excitement, and walked down the stairs. There came drifting the smell of cooking bacon, eggs, and it made his mouth water. As he came to the bottom of the steps he froze in place. A woman, his mother presumably, flitted about the kitchen. She wore a robe and slippers, and she had maybe the fattest ass he'd ever seen in person. She turned around and smiled at him when she noticed he was standing there. A set of full, round tits were somehow stuffed away behind that robe. “Motherfuck you're thick,” he muttered.
“Hm?” she asked, busying herself with her cooking.
“Uh, nothing,” he shook his head and took a seat at the dining room table. It was a little house but it was cozy. It was an open kitchen that led directly to the living area, with the table he was sitting at now, and a couch situated in front of a television. It had women like that, and modern amenities? He smiled to himself. He really had hit the jackpot.
His mom came over with a plate stacked with eggs, bacon, and toast, setting it on the table in front of him. “Happy birthday, honey,” she said, tousling his hair. “I can't believe you're such a grown man, now.”
He hugged her, his face at just the right height from where he was sitting to bury into her chest. “This is the best birthday ever, Mom.”
After breakfast he found himself pushed out the door with just his backpack. He was wearing now a red jacket with matching hat, a black shirt, and blue jeans. It seemed maybe a little dorky to him, but he supposed it could have been worse. What was a problem was that he was supposed to be heading to Professor Oak's lab. He, of course, had no earthly idea where that would be. He began to trudge along the road that led away from his house. It was paved, but was just earth, not concrete or anything.
As he walked he tried to remember anything he could about Pokemon. It had never been his thing (not that he could really remember, but that felt true), and most of his information on it had come from just seeing it around. At least he knew what a Pikachu was. Oh, well. It didn't seem like he'd be required to have such a depth of knowledge. He soon came into town proper, his house having been a bit outside of the main cluster of homes. People were walking around, going about their day, and they waved or said hello as they passed. It was quaint in a nice way.
“There you are, loser! We've been looking everywhere for you.”
Red whirled around.
Standing there was a boy and a girl, his age it looked like.
The boy had a shock of brown hair and a baggy blue sweater. He had otherwise dark pants and some strange boots with straps. There was a smug look on his face that rubbed Red the wrong way near instantly.
The girl had long brown hair and wore a simple black dress and black shoes, with white gloves. She had little in the way of a chest, but the curve of her hips made that dress strain in a way pleasing to the eye. She smiled almost apologetically. “It wasn't everywhere, don't worry,” she waved a hand dismissively at the boy. “You know how Blue gets.”
Blue. That was the name of the boy, then. “Uh, yeah. My mom made a big breakfast, wouldn't let me go until I was finished,” Red shrugged. “So, why don't we get to the... lab?”
The three of them began to walk. “I'm gonna pick my starter first,” Blue said. “He's my grandpa after all, so I should get first dibs.”
“That's okay with me,” the girl said. “I don't mind who my pokemon is. I think they're all cool. What about you, Red?”
“Uh, I don't know,” he shrugged. “I can work with whatever, y'know?” He wracked his brain trying to recall exactly what the starter pokemon were. He knew the basics, that there was one fire-type, one water-type, and one grass-type. Bulbasaur... Charmander, definitely. Squirtle was the last one? He was pretty sure about that. He found that trying to recall anything from the old world made his head swim a bit.
It didn't take them long to arrive at the lab, a larger and more elaborate looking building than the rest in town. Blue led them inside. It was full of bookshelves that were stuffed with books, and various aides ran around getting vague things done. Red barely paid any of this attention, because the girl was walking in front of him and he had become entranced by the sway of her ass. It was full and round, perfectly slappable. And the sway of her hips as she walked... he could feel himself twitch against his pants.
They walked towards the back, which was up a small set of stairs to a raised area that overlooked the rest of the lab. Here there was a lot of machinery hooked up to various computers. In the center was a table bearing three Poke Balls, which Red assumed held the starters inside. Standing beside the table was the professor, engrossed in some research before he noticed the three of them. “Oh! There you are,” he said, setting the papers down. He was an older man, with lighter hair that was almost graying. He had kind eyes set beneath thick eyebrows. He had on a lab coat, beneath which he wore a purple collared shirt and slacks. Red also couldn't help but notice the slippers he wore, too. “I'm sure the three of you are very excited to be receiving your pokemon today!”
The three of them stood together, Red in the middle, Blue on his left side and the girl on his right. He glanced at her. He felt like he should probably find a way to learn her name. The professor was talking, droning on about responsibility or something. Red was sure it was all very inspiring, but it was hard for anything to take his attention off the bountiful ass standing right next to him. He kept sneaking peeks at it, and if anyone had been paying attention it surely would have been obvious. But no one was saying anything.
He glanced at Professor Oak, who was holding up some red devices (PokeDex?) and saying something about the importance of befriending pokemon. All very interesting, Red was sure. He reached a hand over and rested it on the shelf of the girl's ass. He could feel her tense up, and she looked at him... but didn't say anything. Didn't move, or stop him. Red kept his gaze very fixed upon the talking professor. His hand ran down the curve of her butt, feeling the soft fabric, and came to where the hem of her dress met her thighs.
Her thighs were plush, soft, and he ran his fingers long them before snaking his hand beneath the dress. Blue was saying something now to his grandfather, gesturing to the table, and Red was sure the professor replied, but he didn't catch it. His hand cupped one fat cheek of the girl's ass, squeezing it hard. It was yielding, like grabbing a handful of pillow. She let out a shuddered breath and steadied herself. He traced along the outline of her panties, every so often slipping his fingers beneath them a little.
Now he could feel his dick straining against the constraints of his jeans. He was so hard it nearly hurt, and he bit down on his lips as his hand worked. He jerked the back of her dress up, exposing her to anyone who would be behind her, and slipped his hand fully down her panties. Her hands pressed against the front of her dress, trying to keep that side down. There was a pink tint to her face now, and he could tell she was struggling to pay attention.
His middle finger slid until he found her asshole. It winked against his touch, and he ran a little circle around it. She let out another little breath and raised a hand to her mouth, trying to keep silent. He pressed, gently, until he felt the tip of his finger gain entrance into her ass. It was warm, tight around where it gripped his finger. He held it there for a moment, letting her ass get used to being stretched before he pushed in farther. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks fully flushed now, and the hand over her mouth almost trembled.
“Well, I suppose I've been talking long enough,” Professor Oak said, smiling at himself. “Now, which of you would like to pick your pokemon first?”
Red began to slide his finger out of her before plunging it back in, slow, hard thrusts. “Ah!” she moaned, finally losing her composure. She quickly tried to regain herself. “I really think that Blue should pick first! He was the first to call dibs, I mean...”
“Very kind of you, Green,” the professor said. He looked at Red. “Is that alright with you?”
“Sure is,” Red nodded. His finger was pistoning in and out of her. He could see her legs shaking as she struggled to stand. He could feel her trying to buck back against his hand as he fingerfucked her. “Go ahead, Blue.”
Blue stepped forward, looking over all three Poke Balls. Red leaned over and whispered into Green's ear, “you're a little ass slut, aren't you?”
She bit down on her hand, suppressing another moan, as the other grabbed onto Red's shoulder for support. With a grin, he pulled his finger out of her and gave her ass a soft smack, before tugging the dress back into place. He jammed his hands into his pockets. Green wobbled as she steadied herself, adjusting her dress, trying to slow her breathing. He gave her one last glance, and saw a wet trail running down the inside of a thigh.
“I think I'll pick this one,” Blue said, snatching up a Poke Ball. “You can go next, Red. I'm just that kind!”
“Don't mind if I do,” Red said, smirking.
He was going to like it here, he thought.