{"sf1_id":2044931,"sf2_id":"A1pEKx0e","title":"[p] Show of the Century","author":"FestivalGrey","words":2470,"posted_at":"2023-09-02T02:37:18.000Z","tags":["Exhibitionism","Female","Female/Female","Human","Impregnation","Interspecies","Oviposition","Pokemon","Pokephilia","Public","public sex","scolipede"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2044931-p-show-of-the-century","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/A1pEKx0e","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/07/0b/070be303-d560-44e6-8d3d-f4465f1d8b67","description":"Gym Leader Roxie is no stranger to performances, but the show she's got prepared tonight is unlike any other. It starts with her coming onto stage naked, but that's far from the only thing she has planned. Her egg-heavy Scolipede needs somewhere to lay...  \n  \nThis fic was voted on by my exclusive poll (available to $10 and higher tiers) for April 2021 over on my patreon. Thanks to everyone who participated!","content":"Roxie’s heart was pounding. She thought she was over this. Years of performing on stages big and small should have cured her of anything resembling stage fright. She was the face of her band—the bassist with the toxic touch who loved going wild on stage for her fans! She should have been well beyond this sort of intimidation!  \n  \n But then, this was going to be far from a normal show. A chittering sound from behind her jerked Virbank’s leader out of her reverie. Cymbal, her much-loved Scolipede, was there, casting a worried gaze at her trainer.  \n  \n “Don’t worry,” Roxie said with a smile, patting her pokemon on her chitinous snout, “we’ve got this, girl.” Cymbal shook her head with a rolling clack, and Roxie smiled—though she couldn’t help but notice that Cymbal had been a bit more laborious than usual. Well, tonight was supposed to fix that… and turn a tidy profit on top.  \n  \n Out front, the emcee was winding down his introduction. Roxie would have to take the stage soon. She breathed in. She had this. She had it!  \n  \n “—and we all know you’re not here for\u0026nbsp;_me,”_\u0026nbsp;came the man’s jocular voice. “Ladies and germs, I give you the woman you’ve been waiting for—the best bassist this side of Lacunosa—the woman who walks through poison days—Virbank’s very own Gym Leader, Roxie!”  \n  \n And that was her cue. Banishing any reservations, Roxie swaggered out onto stage, the lights of the venue searing down on her.  \n  \n “‘Sup, fuckers?” she yelled, gripping a microphone tightly, her voice reverberating through the club. “You like what you see?”  \n  \n The crowd erupted in joy and appreciation, and Roxie smiled.  \n  \n After all, she’d walked out almost completely naked. Oh, she still wore her punk-rock boots, the laces done tight, with striped stockings that made their way to mid-thigh, artfully torn and ripped in places. Her hair was pulled up, same as always. But the rest was utterly on display. Her pert, modest breasts; her lean body; the tuft of hair, pale and snowy just like its counterpart atop her head, atop her otherwise smooth cleft.  \n  \n Roxie was no voluptuous vixen, but that didn’t matter for shit. It was all about rocking what you had. About\u0026nbsp;_confidence_. And if being a Gym Leader and a famous musician was good for anything, it was how to seize that confidence.  \n  \n Hell, she actually felt\u0026nbsp;_more_\u0026nbsp;comfortable out here than she had been working herself up backstage.  \n  \n “Y’all paid for a good show, didn’t ya?” she demanded, the mic amplifying her voice. The crowd exploded into cheers and hoots; she saw more than a few had decided to embrace the moment, as it were. A man and a woman were up against the wall, lips locked, grinding against each other as the lady threaded her fingers through his hair. In the front row, one woman had ripped off another’s top, kneading and caressing the exposed tit, making her counterpart moan with sapphic bliss as she flicked her thumb over her nipple. Their eyes met in mutual blushes.  \n  \n “Let’s not waste any more fuckin’ time!” Roxie bellowed, and then she led her band into a blistering set of high-tempo punk rock. Her fingers danced down the strings of her bass, playing as well as she ever had, the music reverberating like echoes down her calloused fingertips. The key to being a good bassist wasn’t to dominate or stay in control. Done well, a solid bass was the counterpoint to a kicking melody, the garnish on an already-excellent meal. Roxie may have been the face of the band, but she wasn’t arrogant enough to try to control their sound. She let them lead while she followed, and their music was all the better for it.  \n  \n They moved from song to song, their music pumping and smoky, Roxie herself adding in her voice to the lyrics when the song called for it. She could feel sweat starting to collect where the strap was resting on her bare shoulder; she knew that her breasts were gleaming under the shining spotlights. More than a few of the audience, men and women both, were looking at her with faces of allure. Roxie smirked even as her fingers flew down the bass. Well, her body wasn’t for\u0026nbsp;_them_.  \n  \n The after-hours, adults-only show had quickly devolved into a predictable spate of sex. More than a few people were moaning as they were taken up against the walls or made out passionately, fingers and tongues coursing. The rock music was a throbbing heartbeat that spurred them all forward. Even more obscenely, some of the attendees were trainers, and they’d released their pokemon to get in on the action. One man’s eyelids fluttered with bliss as his friend’s Blaziken fucked his throat, the circle of people around him all recording with their phones, and a young woman squealed as her Buizel hammered into her.  \n  \n The moment seemed right to take the next step.  \n  \n “Right,” Roxie called out as they finished their current song, her voice already breathy and weary from the energy of keeping up so many songs. “I see y’all have decided to\u0026nbsp;_celebrate_\u0026nbsp;tonight’s special show. Maybe I should show ya how it’s\u0026nbsp;_really_\u0026nbsp;done?”  \n  \n The crowd rose into a deluge of pleading encouragement.  \n  \n “Who do ya wanna see?” Roxie pressed.  \n  \n “CYM-BAL! CYM-BAL! CYM-BAL!” they bellowed, stamping their feet in time.  \n  \n Flipping her head, a few loose hairs tickling her neck, Roxie cast a gaze over her shoulder even as she unstrapped her bass and set it aside. “You heard ‘em, girl! Get out here!”  \n  \n The crowd’s roars when Roxie had strolled in in her boots and stockings and nothing else were\u0026nbsp;_nothing_\u0026nbsp;compared to the sound they unleashed when the Scolipede strutted on stage. The centipede pokemon was towering, far bigger than any human, and she moved with purpose—and laboriousness. It was impossible not to notice how the normally-quick Bug-type was slow and ponderous. She was gravid; eggbound.  \n  \n Like many bugs, she needed a place to lay them.  \n  \n “We all know what you came here for!” Roxie said as the crowd went wild around them. Her eyes were fixed between Cymbal’s legs. The pokemon’s ovipositor—easily mistaken for a penis by anyone who didn’t know that much about anatomy—was already thick and at the ready between the Bug-type’s legs. “So let’s get to it! I promised y’all a show, and everyone here paid good money—so now it’s time!” Heart fluttering with anticipation, her pussy already wet just from the thought about what was about to happen to her, Roxie strode to the metalwork ringing the side of her stage. Gripping it tight, she leaned against it in a half-standing, half-sagging position, spreading her legs and presenting herself to Cymbal. “Cymbal, my oldest and dearest partner—put your\u0026nbsp;_eggs_\u0026nbsp;in me!”  \n  \n The crowed boomed with fervor as the Scolipede trotted over, her chitinous feet clacking against the wood floor of the stage. The rest of Roxie’s band had done as they’d rehearsed; they picked up the\u0026nbsp;_perfect_\u0026nbsp;background music, the sound low and instrumental and sensual. Despite the noise of the crowd and the music playing, Roxie was able to tune it all out. She only cared about Cymbal.  \n  \n Her back to the pokemon, Roxie gasped as she felt Cymbal mount her, the Scolipede’s weight pressing down. The metalwork bore most of the brunt, but she was still good and pinned—and as the stage spotlights swiveled to zero in on her, the band’s music crafting a hypnotic tempo, almost everything seemed to fade away.  \n  \n Chirruping, Cymbal leaned low, resting her chin on her trainer’s shoulder. She clacked once in query and Roxie nodded once for consent, breaths shallow with anticipation. The musician felt the shifting weight as Cymbal adjusted her weight, and then she moaned as she felt the Scolipede’s ovipositor drag along the mound of her sex.  \n  \n Cymbal sawed her hips back and forth to a slow tempo, perfectly in time with the pace of the music set by the band. The crowd was murmuring, but Roxie didn’t care. All that mattered was the comforting pressure of Cymbal atop her and the strumming strokes of the bug pokemon’s equipment against her womanhood.  \n  \n Finally, when Roxie was good and slick, the telltale burn of arousal swaddling her cheeks, Cymbal swung her hips back further than usual. When she arched forward, it was at a new angle—one that brought her ovipositor\u0026nbsp;_right_\u0026nbsp;into Roxie’s waiting pussy.  \n  \n The Gym Leader curled her back, throwing her head back as her voice rose in a wordless song. It somehow sounded the perfect accompaniment to the music cresting over the hall. The crowd screamed with pleasure as she was penetrated.  \n  \n Cymbal held in her, chittering, while Roxie caught her breath. The Scolipede was\u0026nbsp;_big_, far bigger than any human could have been, the sort of size that made your eyebrows climb when you saw it on toys. Finally, her voice stumbling out of her in staccato bursts, Roxie managed to say more: “Oh—okay, Cymbal, I’m r-ready…”  \n  \n With an affirmative chirr, the\u0026nbsp;_real_\u0026nbsp;show began.  \n  \n The Scolipede’s forelegs tightened on Roxie’s shoulders and she started rutting her trainer proper. Any hope of Roxie being coherent died; she keened and writhed wordlessly as she was speared over and over by her own pokemon. Cymbal started slow, but before long the gravid pokemon had surrendered to her instincts. She needed to\u0026nbsp;_lay,_\u0026nbsp;and so she quickly picked up the pace, climbing further and further into her trainer’s pussy. The tempo was matched by the band, whose music sparked higher and higher and faster and faster, and the crowd rose in adulation, their voices high and appreciative. Spurred on by the show on stage, even more lewdness had broken out amongst the watchers; one man was sobbing with bliss as his Mightyena knotted his ass, and a trio of sorority sisters were drunkenly making out and feeling each other up, one of them with two fingers knuckle-deep in another’s snatch. Phones were out everywhere, recording\u0026nbsp;_everything,_\u0026nbsp;from the debauchery in the crowd to the eye-catching show on stage.  \n  \n For Roxie, the feeling was\u0026nbsp;_incredible_. Cymbal was caring, her oldest and trustiest partner, but she was also a beast in the throes of sexual fervor, and by now the Scolipede was furiously hammering her trainer’s pussy. As she was made to part around Cymbal’s hugeness, Roxie was rewarded with wave upon wave of pleasure, each thrust compounding on the prior one and leaving her rocking with reward. Her legs were jelly; were it not for the metalwork she was slumped against (and Cymbal’s tight grip keeping her firmly in place) she would have collapsed. She had lost the capability to support herself long ago; now, she was merely a vessel to be fucked.  \n  \n …well, not\u0026nbsp;_only_\u0026nbsp;to be fucked. After minutes of lovemaking, Cymbal’s massive equipment finally made its way to Roxie’s innermost reaches, the tip of it meeting her womb. Crooning with a triumphant cry, the Bug-type hitched her hips forward, her ovipositor breaching into Roxie’s most intimate area—and then things got\u0026nbsp;_really_\u0026nbsp;interesting.  \n  \n She began to lay.  \n  \n Roxie couldn’t see Cymbal’s ovipositor from her position, and she lacked even the energy to turn her head. But she could imagine the sight: Cymbal’s already-formidable ovipositor swelling up even larger as a bulge bigger than a fist originated at her loins. The bulge traveled down, meeting Roxie’s pussy lips, and—  \n  \n And_—_  \n  \n _“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”_\u0026nbsp;Roxie screamed with orgasmic bliss as the first of many eggs shouldered its way into her. If she’d thought Cymbal on her own had been big, the egg was\u0026nbsp;_incredible,_\u0026nbsp;spreading her so far and so intensely that she was on the precipice of blacking out. The impossible bounty pushed\u0026nbsp;_deeper_\u0026nbsp;into her, Roxie feeling every grinding centimeter as it spread into her, until it finally met her womb…  \n  \n And squeezed inside.  \n  \n The voice of the crowd crescendoed as they went absolutely wild. Roxie, Gym Leader of Unova, one of the most famous musicians in the world, was being\u0026nbsp;_knocked up_\u0026nbsp;by her own pokemon before their very eyes, and it was a show unlike any of them had ever seen. Roxie barely had a moment to register the incredible weight in her tummy before\u0026nbsp;_another_\u0026nbsp;egg was pressuring against her pussy lips, and though she was still dizzy-minded with orgasm, she focused and tried to ease its passage as much as she could. The egg pressed into her, making her oversensitive walls tingle with orgasmic bliss, and she sobbed as the second egg plopped right inside of her womb, nestling against the first. Only two eggs down and her trim, flat stomach had already visibly changed, rounding into a small yet noticeable paunch that would only increase as the night marched on.  \n  \n “L-love you,” Roxie whispered, her voice nearly broken. Sweat dripped down her forehead to spatter against the metalwork and the stage. God, it was so\u0026nbsp;_straining_.  \n  \n And a third egg was already pressing against her.  \n  \n “C-Cymbal…” she moaned as it nudged inside of her, another orgasm already cresting. “I love you_… so much…”_  \n  \n The Scolipede chittered happily, and then the bug’s voice broke into a hiss as she focused, clenched—  \n  \n Another egg pushed into Roxie, and she came.  \n  \n The night dragged on, the Gym Leader helplessly draped against the metalwork, alternately sobbing, keening, and just taking the eggs in blissful silence, as her ace pokemon stuffed her full of young. The crowd was consistent in their applause and hoots and cheers, and down below, some of them were mimicking her example, people and pokemon fucking everywhere.  \n  \n Finally, after what felt like ages, Roxie cooed as the delectable drag of Cymbal sliding out of her tickled her body. With a wet sound, the ovipositor\u0026nbsp;_popped_\u0026nbsp;free, and slick juices seeped out of Roxie to splash into a lewd puddle on the stage. The band, sensing the show was winding down, adjusted their music to a low, dreamy, repetitive pace.  \n  \n Roxie sagged downwards gratefully, not believing it was finally over, until she was curled against herself on the stage floor. Cymbal leaned over, the Scolipede no longer gravid and weighty, and nosed at her inquisitively.  \n  \n “‘M alright, girl,” Roxie murmured, her voice so hoarse and low as to almost not be heard at all. “Just needta… rest a bit…”  \n  \n With sleepy eyes, she glanced down at her stomach, swollen obscenely with pokemon eggs. Her normally-pale skin burned pink in places from the stretch of being filled so full so fast, and her bellybutton had popped out. She would have to spend the next few weeks getting used to this.  \n  \n Behind the globe of her belly was the crowd, their voices still roaring and praising, the lights of cameras and phones shining down on her. But despite all the lights, all the sound, despite\u0026nbsp;_everything_, Roxie knew her job was finally done. Secure that Cymbal and her band would take care of the rest, Roxie let her eyes drift shut as she stumbled off to sleep, sore and aching and full and motherly and as satisfied as she had ever been."}