The Chesnaught EXPerience: Part 1

Gravel crunched beneath Creo's otter feet as he approached the remote building of the Pokemon EXPerience. He had to weave through the crowds around the shops in the city center, navigate dark alleyways, and dodge some shady characters. But despite its secluded location, Creo, like other people, knew where to find it through his foxy friend. The stark white building rose multiple floors into the air, offering services unlike any other else: the opportunity to become a pokemon.

Two electronic doors parted as a relaxing bossa nova greeted the mustelid in the lobby. The otter shuffled over to the counter, greeted by a receptionist.

"Welcome to the Pokemon EXPerience! How may I help you?"

"I'm here for the main event: I want to experience being a Chesnaught."

"Interesting choice! I'd expected an otter to go for a 'mon from the Oshawott or Buizel family. But a Chesnaught, that's quite the contrast to a cute little otter like you." The otter blushed in response, "I've got uh, reasons." Creo replied.

A bemused little laugh answered his behavior: "Well, reasons are enough for me to give you the

liability waiver."

Creo intently read the document, but the otter's eyes glazed over time with all the legalese thrown at him. The first two pages of the stack of papers detailed the terms used later on. Opting not to scrutinize it, he skimmed it instead. Things like bodily harm from battling and the risk of blacking out were very much expected. Just like non-fatal and easily healed burning and poisoning. The document made it sound very scary, but the battles on TV were much milder than that.

"Ah, you're a very diligent little otter!" The receptionist seemed a little too enthusiastic. Creo wasn't as diligent as she made it appear. In fact, he raced through the later pages!

"Please give me a moment while I enter your information."

She tapped away at her computer, with Creo giving information when prompted. With a hearty clunk from the enter key, the label printer on the desk came to life and spat out a name tag for Creo to wear.

---

Creo ?

LV. 24 otter

Registered at reception desk @ 10:29

TL1-BASC-WCHWC-2FCW

---

Creo tried to decipher the code on the sticker, idly flicking at the label. Pulling it off would take a lot of fur with it, and he wasn't keen on getting teary-eyed in a public lobby.

"Don't go pulling it off now! We need that info to decipher where you're going off to and what we'll do with you!"

"Uh, yeah. Are you sure I'll be able to find the place? This is a large building. I'm trying to figure out where to go based on this, but the code got me stomped."

"No worries! You will need to go to the second floor conversion wing. You'll need to go through the big double doors behind me, then you take an immediate left turn. After that, you take the third staircase to your right. The conversion wing is signposted on the proper floor. If you follow the route, there will be a waiting area where you will be picked up."

The little otter put a hand to his face and swished his tail. "Immediate left, third staircase right, follow the signs and wait there."

"Exactly! If you do that, you'll get there in no-time!"

With excitement, but also slight unease, the otter thanked the receptionist and made his way to the waiting area. With the doors clappering behind the otter, the receptionist dialed her phone. "Got some fresh meat coming your way, Henk. It's one of those willing suckers." She snickered at the answer she got from the other end, curling the cord around her finger as she elaborated: "Yeah, really easy even, he got all blushy when I asked him what he wanted to be, he was so excited, he skimmed the form. I think he popped a boner right here in the lobby. This guy should be golden."

Unlike the decorated lobby, the halls in between the rooms were barren. A stark white hallway illuminated by fluorescent lighting. The warm tones of the bossa nova tune gave way to silence, only occasionally pierced by the footsteps of another, or the beeping of equipment. It was a utilitarian space to ferry people from one place to the other. With more and more distance from the entryway, the signs of life became sparser too. Creo diligently followed the instructions, taking an immediate left from the doors and then taking the stairs up to the second floor and following the signs saying "conversion wing".

Before he got acquainted with the waiting area, a woman with brown hair and hazel hair introduced herself. It was the doctor's assistant, coming to pick him up. The room he was led to looked like a standard dentist's office. A large operating chair took up most of the space, with machines hanging overhead. Off to the side was a computer, probably to monitor the progress and record data.

"Please take a seat, doctor Henk will be with you shortly." She didn't sound excited about the job, probably because she wasn't the one who would perform the conversion.

Creo did as he was told, even discovering that the operating chair had a hole in it to accommodate his tail. He was certainly not the first anthro to undergo the conversion. Overhead was a TV showing some kind of sports game. Before he could delve into the finer mechanics of the game, he was interrupted.

"Ah, you must be Creo!" A man in a lab coat came into the room. The assistant from before was following him close behind, taking a seat behind the computer.

"Yeah, that's right!" chirped Creo.

The doctor looked at his clipboard. "So you're here for the conversion into a Chesnaught I'm reading here… Is that correct?"

"Exactly!"

"Ok! The procedure will take about forty minutes. The conversion should be painless, but it will feel kind of weird." Henk remarked.

"Oh, how so?"

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret." Henk moved in and pointed at the instruments on the ceiling.

"Do you see that hose over there?"

"The big rubber one?"

"We use that to apply transformative liquid to our subjects."

"Wait, you guys use liquid rubber?! I love the stuff! It works so well when it's just that slight bit of runny, but it's especially good if it makes a thick coat which immobilizes someone. Tell me, what kind of material do you guys use?"

"Oh, you'll see." With a big grin on his face, the doctor pulled a remote and pressed a conspicuous red button on it.

*Ca-clunk!*

Metal clamps shut tight around Creo's arm and legs. Not even his tail was safe, as Henk ducked under the chair and clasped a metal band around the otter's thick tail as well. The doctor, if he even was one, laughed as he rose over the little otter. He seemed well practiced in this, as his face was now filled with dark intent. He began to recite his evil motto:

"To give you your full pokemon immersion." A silence hung as Henk's face dropped. He was waiting for something.

"Do we really have to do this?" His assistant didn't sound too pleased.

"Look, most patients are unconscious while we go through the procedure. Let me have this."

She sighs. "Team Rocket will handle your conversion."

Henk's enthusiasm returned as he could resume his routine: "Because in the end, evil always wins!"

"And this is where your nightmare begins…"

"Henk!"

"Armelia…"

Creo sighed, "are you guys done yet? This is boring."

"Shut uuuuuuup! I rehearsed this for so long! It's got to be my assistant, right? She didn't put her mind to it!"

"No, it's just lame," Creo quipped. "Look, I just want to get this over with, so please make it quick."

Henk gave out a cry of frustration: "It's no fun if you aren't scared out of your wits! Give me something to work with!" Armelia turned away to laugh. "Not you too, Armelia! I'm surrounded by

Philistines!"

"Look Henk, we're on the clock here. The boss will grill us with potatoes if he sees us wasting

time."

Henk's face turned all kinds of different emotions, before he settled on a poker face. With a press of a different button, Henk lowered the rubber hose. His assistant brought it in position as he remotely controlled the flow. With a low whirr, white goo came out of the pipe and spread all over Creo's chest, his blue fur drowning under the substance. The liquid had a mind of its own, tightly adhering to the otter's skin. Instead of feeling like a cold splash of rubber, the substance actually felt really nice, like a warm blanket pulling over him.

The goo massaged his chest as more and more liquid piled on. It kneaded and stretched his body. Creo groaned and moaned, struggling at his bindings as the goo shaped itself. He yanked his body left and right, but he couldn't get out. Tired, he looked down at himself between gasping breaths. Below him he saw a pair of cream pecs and a pack of six abs beyond that. They rose and fell with his breath. He tightened his core and felt the new muscles contract in response, sending a wave of pleasure back to his head. He moaned in ecstasy. Audience be damned.

Creo pushed and pulled at his metal binds, but they didn't budge. He had core strength, but not the strength in any of his otter limbs. The heat in his groin became unbearable as the goo found its way lower down his body. But instead of continuing farther down, it piled on and on. It did not adhere to the shape of his body, instead; it smoothed over, becoming rounder and rounder.

"What's happeninggggg?"

"Pokemon should be chaste. So we have taken measures to ensure that no naughty bits show in battle. But don't worry, we have everything under control."

Panic was settling in, as Henk was having way too much fun with this. If he could smile any harder, his mouth would fall off his face. Creo didn't like the sound of that. And with a distinct beep, he discovered why.

The goo around his crotch contracted. "AAAaaahhh!" Creo screamed out. The goo pushed itself into his dick, sounding him with the force of a Blaziken. His balls were in the vice grip of a Kingler. Firmly within the goo's grasp. Henk cackled in glee, only to be shut up by Armelia scraping her throat. He grumbled in response and changed the settings.

The tears in Creo's eyes were drying up when he could feel the goo relent. He took a relaxed breath, but it hitched as the assault on his dick and balls came back in full force. Ramming and squeezing him farther and harder. Armelia snuck in a chuckle in response. She wasn't immune to the appeal of this situation.

With each wave of pain, the goo propagated further down his body. Coating his legs in changing goo. Creo couldn't fight his body from jolting with each pang of pain. Power was building in the otter's lower body as the muscles in his legs were addressed. The muscles bulked and the strain on the lower clamps was audible.

"Everything still nominal? I'm hearing quite some creaking from those clamps now."

"Computer says they're holding. Just focus on your job. I'll tell you when something's off."

The arousal was too distracting. Creo's abused genitals screamed for release, anything to take the pressure away. But his arms and legs were still bound. As if in answer, the good crept up, bulking his shoulders, burying his head in more and more muscles as they rose to claim more of his sight. The goo flowed down his arms like a river of strength.

Now he could see what had happened to his legs. His arms rose with power, tripling in size, all thanks to the transformative goo. They pulsed and bulged with each pang of pain from his blanked crotch. The abuse below distracting him still.

The bindings creaked as the otter's strength built and built. But he wasn't expecting the next step. Behind his shoulder blades, the goo piled up and hardened. More and more piled on as the substance hardened into a shell, pushing Creo's chest out from under him, bulging his well-defined pecs and abs. He would've looked incredibly silly. From the neck down he was now a Chesnaught, but instead of a bearded, helmeted face, his innocent little otter head was drowned out by the juggernaut body.

Creo got used to the rhythm of the attack on his nethers, breathing deep while he had the chance to keep his sanity. With more cognitive space available, it was his time to strike. The bindings were already protesting with his increased bulk, and with ease, he got his arms free. Sirens blared as his lower bindings failed too. In response, the hose jammed itself onto Creo's face, creating a seal, pumping goo straight into him.

"What are you doing to- Gurk!"

"I can't let you have second thoughts now." Henk beeps a button on his remote. Latex streamed into the Chesnaught's mouth, changing his insides to match the outside. As if it wasn't possible anymore, he could feel even more power building inside of him, occupying him long enough for the nefarious team member to elaborate uninterrupted.

"We're going to sell you to the highest bidder. You may look a bit… different from normal mons, but kids these days are so occupied with getting a pokemon that they don't question it."

Done with its job, the hose rose up, revealing a massive Chesnaught's head, matching the rest of his mountain of a body.

"CHES!" the gargantuan mon rumbled, taken aback by his new voice.

"Yeah, you won't be much for conversation. Can't have you blabbing on us now. And with that…"

As a last act of defiance, Creo rushed up to the foolish human who gave him all this power. His arm swung back and when he got closer to the smug person's face, his arm swung down.

But before he could connect, he lost all will to do so. He couldn't attack his master. His creator. The one who would know what would be best for him. Before he knew it, a red light took him , and all he could see was darkness.

Without as much of a wobble, the pokeball laid on the floor. The one who threw it was rightfully angry at Henk.

"You just couldn't help yourself! You almost landed yourself in the hospital!"

"Come on, even you should see the fun in seeing a person break. We're both fiiiine!"

"... But I'm not cackling like a kid in a candy store. Show some professionalism."

"I'll make it up to you. I know a good place, and you're allowed to order anything, my treat." "Lobster."