Little time remained and the Pinsir was gaining on you quickly. It was dire to act fast. You bound forward at the tree, hopefully able to climb it to escape the oncoming infected crustacean instead of ending up as its furry wiggling meal. But once your forepaws touch the barked surface of the tree, they instantly slip from the water, causing you to collide into it face first! Slamming into the tree trunk, the force of the impact sends you back to where you had jumped, miraculously landing on your feet for an awkward stance.
However, your mind twists your world in a mad spiral while your eyes struggle to focus. You feel your head give out and grow light headed to the point where you begin to stagger around, striving to keep your balance from the pain of running into the tree. The entire environment swirls as your muscles ache in malaise. Inevitably groaning in defeat, you faint, falling downward to the muddy ground on your back, unconscious. The ramming Pinsir behind you skids to a halt in front your body, surprised yet purely satisfied that its meal knocked itself out. It listened to your subconscious whines of anguish, pleasured that it has so easily conquered you. It lowers down to inhale your scent, breathing the aroma of your delicious canine body. Its impatient tongue disperses from its toothy maw and slides over your muzzle, taking your flavor with a menacing swipe. Retracting back the tongue, the Pinsir murrs at your taste, however finds your body to not be at the best of conditions seeing that you were slathered in mud. Yet, the infected knew a better way to take in your faint form.
Twisting around, the Pinsir crouches its waist downward, placing its clawed hands over its butt cheeks in a tight grasp. Squeezing them apart, the Pinsir's pulsating pucker opens up slightly as it bends down to touch your footpaws. With a little suction motion, the paws slowly gulp up into the Pinsir's rump, stretching around your legs as they're pulled upward into the murky sanctum. The brown shelled anthro growls in pleasure as your waist suck up into the musty hole. It makes quick progress on your hips, easing your furry chest up as your head approach its demise. And after swallowing your muzzle in, the Pinsir stands back up, removing his hands from his rump and onto the jiggling belly.
----|----
After a few minutes of pleasuring massages on its shelled belly, the infected Pinsir lays on its back with its arms and legs spread wide open for the feral's protruding gut to sag out, dozing off into a deep slumber in the soft forest rain. It was an excellent vanquished meal, and the infected Pinsir wishes that all of its prey were just as foolish as the Lucario was. In fact, muffled bubbling noises squelched deep inside its stomach, pacting together to turn the idiotic dog into belly fat. It was the easiest meal of all to capture.
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