Doing something different here too, why not.

This one's got a story too, also written by thatguywholikesfood

Higher resolution version here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/2hxdve0qp.....riel4.png?dl=0

Adventure, travel, exploration...

Words an enterprising Pokemon trainer thoroughly knows, on their quest to discover new types of creatures, places, and become the very best.

For many, it was a matter of necessity.

To others, a matter of fun...

Tyson viewed it as a way of relieving boredom.

And, of course, to train his Pokemon.

Long walks for weeks, hikes up mountains with small kits of supplies, he frequently had his Pokemon scavenge food for him, in order to 'train them' in critical thinking skills.

Of course, with only one Pokemon, Riolu, this was quite a hard task.

It certainly held some results, though - He'd only had to make one or two yells in even the worst of battles, Riolu usually fending for themself excellently.

When, one day, Tyson camped out in some mountain-side cave, Riolu having gone off to gather supplies, he hadn't particularly expected there to be a large hole.

Nor a well-placed stick that sent him tumbling inside, body falling down below, panic coursing through his system as he loudly screamed out.

Continuing to fall, hands reaching out as he desperately tried to find anything to grip on, an immense heat rose into his body, eyes slamming shut, drifting into unconsciousness before hitting the floor below...

Waking up could only be summarised in one word:

Shock.

Tyson awoke to the jiggling of his own breasts, the rush of pleasure, and the tightness of his old outfit, a new robe on top.

Hat discarded, the former he, now she, slowly struggled onto her paws, red eyes staring inquisitively.

Every part of her body had more 'thiccness' then even the most well-endowed of porn stars.

Thighs massive, her new chest beyond any letter she could think of...

It was impossible not to blush as she slowly shoved her shoes off, shirt, trousers, then everything bar the robe going soon after.

Everything else was far, far too tight for proper use.

Travelling around in search of others came next, robe tight enough to leave little to the imagination, pulling tightly against her jiggling rear, breasts repeating the asses' example.

Hours of searching, looking around, yelling, desperately trying to find someone, anyone...

To no avail.

By all accounts, the Ruins were completely, utterly empty.

That is, at least, until arriving at the first home she'd seen.

One relatively nice, comfy house, with ample bedrooms, spare clothing and sheets, with a few spare books on the relatively sparse shelves.

Travelling past it, down the stairs, to the exit, filled her with a strange sense of trepidation.

Then, unease.

Soon, hoor.

One sudden reminder made her run, muzzle coated in an intense, red blush, as she sprinted up the stairs and into the hall, remembering she'd forgotten her backpack.

Yet, before she could set off back towards the entrance, her stomach grumbled in hunger.

Unable to contain a sigh, she slowly made her way towards the kitchen area, eying up the recipes and looking through a nearby book.

Countless complex, strange and mind-numbingly boring recipes were on full display before her, slowly turning the pages as her eyes closed.

Slowly, she fell asleep.

Eyes opening up to the soft, gentle strings of a new day, Tyson was more then confused at the music, something he was now starting to notice playing wherever she went.

Yet, strangely enough, when she tried to search for the source, it stopped, leaving pure, uneasy silence in it's place.

As the second day passed, stomach soon grumbling in need of a meal, she put her questioning aside, moving to glance at the recipe book.

Looking through it, it was a wonder why she found it boring in the first place.

On the front was emblazoned 'Ye Guide To Thine Olden Pie Recipes'.

While worded like a strange out of touch recipe guide, the instructions were far from difficult.

Just requiring Goat Milk and Fire Magic, it was incredibly simple in both recipe and execution:

Simply fill the glass up to a certain size, pour it into the tray and bowl, then place it in the marked section of the oven after filling the undersection with Fire Magic.

Every recipe involved the same simple ingredients, though completely down to the time, amounts, and area in the oven.

To make a Cinnamon and Butterscotch pie, you merely had to place it in the middle. For one or the other, you just had to put it on the correct side.

Sure, fire magic was complex, though strangely enough, a quick glance at the living-room shelf yielded great results.

'Goat's Guide To Fire Magic'.

It was so simple, that she'd mastered it in an hour.

Though, admittedly, that might've been due to the intense encouragement of her stomach.

Marching over towards the table, she swiftly got to work, pausing briefly as she finally re-read the instructions.

Goat milk.

She did not have any milk in the fridge and-

...With a pause, she wordlessly walked over towards the mirror, looked towards herself, and moved towards the counter once more.

It was admittedly the hunger that led her to continue, picking up a glass and slowly holding it near her teat, as she began to gently squeeze her breasts.

Muzzle bright red, embarrassment rising, she tried to focus on the task at hand, pouring glass after glass into the bowl, and following the recipe...

Before she knew it, moving as if having done it her entire life, the pie was ready, the warm, delicious, butterscotch and cinnamon with the perfect amount of squish, pie eaten and swallowed within minutes.

She'd never eaten anything so delicious, mouth-wateringly perfect in every single bite.

The mere memory of eating some of her pie already made her drool at the memory, even after having just finished the entire thing...

Glancing over towards the recipe book, she soon picked it up and got to work reading every single word...

Eventually, the second day came to a close.

Marching through the house as a yawn left her mouth, closing the book, before setting it down gently, she slowly began to look through the various rooms.

Arriving at the end, she moved inside and sat down on the table, briefly pausing despite the yawn and reaching for the empty, open book left on the table.

Starting to write, she catalogued the day's contents.

The taps, of course, didn't work. Her only source of hydration was her own milk, though strangely enough, it quenched her thirst with ease.

It was better not to question it, though, as she idly sketches a poke ball, drawing up a separator line, intent on continuing the next day.

Soon, though, the days began to pass faster then she could properly keep track of, diary forgotten with the morning grumble.

After a while, she began to work on improving her way writing, her speech, along with beginning to patrol the ruins.

While loneliness began to creep in, the countless recipes, along with the occasional new, albeit it tattered, book she found doing searches of the ruins kept her going.

Eventually, after fourteen days, she remembered the diary.

Writing in it her experiences, she only managed the next, before skipping a day once more.

That missing day had been quite the experience, coming to terms with her arousal, her lust...

Her intense desire to constantly milk herself.

Using her wits, she merely referred to it in polite terms in the diary, beginning research on making the perfect dildo for her body and form, sketching an idle pie in between the line separator.

More days passed, ruin searches continuing, as she put her plan together.

Using it felt amazing.

Loneliness seemed to nearly disappear at first, pleasure flooding the hours, every moment she felt even the slightest bit down, was soon filled the noisy, wet sounds of a horny goat.

Of course, she had to use her own warm milk as lube, not that she complained much - It felt as perfect as ever.

As time passed, she soon forgot her identity, as anything other then a horny, female, well-endowed goat.

By chance, as she wandered into her room, her eyes glanced towards the book, as the memories flooded back!

There was no horror, nor fear, of course. It was merely a joke, something to chuckle at as she put up some notes, and more indication around the house.

Her memory just being a little bit silly, though of course, with all this extra stuff, it should help her out plenty.

Despite the fun, the pleasure, the lust...

She did feel quite lonely, despite how much she enjoyed herself, trainer-past a distant memory, despite her focus on remembering it.

Luckily for her, someone would soon arrive...