There were two places Michael hated going above all else. The first was the deeperpart of his garden, where his two largest pokemon roamed. The second was the cotton feild.
It doesn't take a scientist to figure out what pokemon hid out among the cotton, and once he was there, it was usually impossible to get away. Unfortunately, Michael grew excellent cotton, and people paid good money for it.
So, Michael was left with no choice but to make regular trips to the feild. His Whimsicott almost never had to leave her little territory to get what she wanted, unlike the pokemon in the deeper garden.
Whimsicott wasn't as dangerous as Roserade, but what she lacked in lethality she made up for in cruelty.
Michael walked calmly through the cotton feild, trying to look around the feild for movement without looking like he was doing so as he gathered the cotton.
Michael managed to fill the basket and make it halfway out of the feild before he was pulled down. Whimsicott was only slightly taller than Michael himself, and due to the good care, had a more human-like body than Whimsicotts normally had.
Though most of the cotton on her body appeared as though it were a sweater, her leaf-like ears gave her away; and though her upper body was covered in cotton, her lower body had none, giving the appearance of her being half naked.
Michael wasn't sure why, perhaps it was Whimsicott's more humanoid form, but he'd always thought that the appearance of clothes on her made her look more, for lack of a better word, naughty.
Whimsicott grinned down at Michael. To anyone else it would've looked adorable, but Michael knew what was coming. Whimsicott stripped Michael quickly, then took several puffs of cotton, and put them to work on Michael, binding his arms behind his back and his legs together.
Finally Whimsicott placed her cotton around Michael's member. It latched on tightly, squeezing painfully on him. The cotton became practically skin tight, so Michael's member could be seen clearly through the cotton.
Whimsicott sat on Michael's face, making him eat her out as she started sucking him off. He'd harder feel any of it. He'd feel just enough to make the inability to cum make him wish he wasn't feeling anything. Whimsicott was a master with her mouth, using her tongue to get Michael ready to beg for release, but he knew it would never come.
Whimsicott kept Michael like that for nearly an hour. By the end, she'd cum ten times and Michael's entire lower body was burning.
Whimsicott pulled herself off Michael's face, filling his mouth with cotton. There was no point to gagging him. There wasn't anyone around for Michael to call to. Just the other pokemon, who'd either cheer Whimsicott on or, more likely, join in. Perhaps she just liked looking at Michael completely helpless in her cotton.
Whimsicott lowered herself slowly down Michael's member, taking him inch by inch. She exaggerated her moans to torture Michael with her releases. She every time she came, her body squeezed Michael's shaft, but the cotton stopped him from cumming.
Another hour passed, during which Whimsicott came another fifteen times. After she was done, it took no time at all for her to remove all the cotton, accept the cotton around his length.
Whimsicott re-clothed Michael, handing him the basket and vanishing into the cotton field. Michael made his way out, and headed back to his room, the one place his pokemon never attacked him.
Michael set the basket of cotton down on a desk and laid down on the bed. Normally after getting jumped by one of his pokemon, he'd try to get himself off, desperate for a release that his pokemon denied him. But he couldn't do that after Whimsicott had her fun.
The cotton on him was sealed tight. He couldn't remove it himself, no one could but Whimsicott. He'd have to wait for morning when it loosened by itself and he could pull it off. For now, he wouldn't be able to touch himself, as the cotton would still be squeezing him to the point of restricting his climax.
Sometimes Michael thought about getting another pokemon, one who wouldn't try to tease or kill him. Or hell, even just a girlfriend. He shook his head with a sigh as he left his room to get a drink; he'd never be able to handle it, not after everything he'd been through.
He still wondered why all his pokemon loved hurting him so much, but he couldn't remember which one had started it, or when the others had joined in.
Michael's thoughts were cut off as he was ensnared in vines and pulled into the closet, which shut and locked behind him.