Warning: This short story contains extreme violence and snuff! Do NOT view if this material offends or if this material is not safe to view! The author does NOT in any way, shape or form promote or support these actions in real life! This is a fictional story and the events are meant to remain as fiction for this story! 





Mixes of Pokemon lined the wall with various expressions. Each of them had their paws unbound; free to make any movement they pleased, but they were too drained by the Miltanks that occupied the barn. Most of them had some form of bruises while others were scratched, even burned. 

The double doors opened as two Miltank entered the hay ridden barn, one named Betsy and the other Trish. With each step their udders wobbled and their teats flopped lewdly, a sight that made the males and even some females blush despite their situation. Their teat piercings glowed in the sunlight that peeked in through the opened doors. One carried a bag that clattered along the ground.

They looked at the Pokemon in front of them and smirked. Without a word both of them reached into the bag and pulled out a pistol each. Some of the Pokemon visibly trembled while most just looked down at the ground or straight ahead in numbness. 

The girl's teats were beginning to drip with rich milk. "Let's go with that one first" said Trish, having Betsy agree with delight as they walked over to a Pikachu who had his eyes fixated forward. Even when they were right in front of him he just stared in the distance. Giggling, Trish grabbed him with her forearm and lifted him up slightly; a small grunting sound being heard from the broken 'chu. With a smile to one another they aimed their pistols, both Deagles, at his eyes.

*DSH-DSH-DSH-DSH-DSH-DSH-DSH-DSH...*

One after the other they fired, watching the elecrtic-type's eyes pop and vanish while his head retracted inwards and turned to chunks deflated flesh. The bullets punched through the other side of the barn and out into the field while the bovine that held him steady felt the heat from their muzzles on her arm. His body violently spasmed for a few seconds until his brain was nothing more than mush with what little remained; the rest now on the floor and other Pokemon. 

He fell to the ground with a wet thud when they pulled away. "Mh... check if he's got a pulse will you?" After Betsy checked for a moment she shook her head. Both girls giggled as if they had been told a juicy rumor. Then the whimpering of a Ratticate caused them to perk their ears. 

Without hesitation she was grabbed by the paws and dragged forward. "N-NO PLEASE!" She'd squeak out, teeth chattering loudly. Both bovines stood on opposite sides with the hot barrels pressed to the rodent's temples. "Hey... think she'd survive this?" Asked Betsy with a delighted tone of voice. "I dunno... let's see!" The rat continued pleading and sought help from the others. "PLE-" *DSH-DSH...* "Hey, can you hear me!? Hello?!" "Hello!? Helloooo?!" Both girls shouted to her as two large holes now replaced her temples. The Pokemon's mouth hung wide and her eyes lazily went back into her head while the girls effortlessly, almost mockingly, tried to get a reply from her faded consciousness. 

Another dull thump on the floor as another Pokemon faded from the group. 

They reached into their bag and pulled out new weaponry, this time a sword and double barreled shotgun. "Eeee~!" Squeed Betsy who was now holding the thick barrels. Her teats jiggled as she ran to two Pokemon, a blank-staring Squirtle and a defeated and bruised Snivy, who she made follow her to a pillar out of sight for some privacy. With a smile Trish's sword was unsheathed; a slick katana that looked as intimidating as it was beautiful. She walked up to a terrified Bunneary and pointed the blade at her belly, but she didn't proceed as expected. Instead, she took multiple steps backwards and motioned for the Farfetch'd next to her to hold her in place with his wing. He obliged with a heavy sigh, holding her head against the wooden wall. 

"M-MMPH!!" She'd struggle, trying to get away from the surprisingly firm grip of being pinned by the bird. Suddenly she heard pounding steps in a charge. They were getting closer and the feeling of powerful hooves shook the boards under her feet. "HYAAA~" A massive impact hit her right in the stomach. Another sigh sounded from the Farfetch'd just before he let his wing rest at his side. The Miltank was now in front of the rabbit, holding the hilt of the sword in her hooves. It was then that the shock began to ware off and sharp pain radiated from head to toe. She had been stabbed with a foot of steel.

Behind the pillar the Pokemon could hear what had happened along with the now pained groans of the Bunneary. "Ooo, good charge~" Complimented Betsy under her breath. She had both the Squirtle and Snivy side by side with a little space in between. She had both large barrels aimed right at the grass-type who looked up at the bovine with tired, half-lidded eyes. Like many of the others in the group he just didn't care anymore; their cruel acts had broken any and all desire from him to be released. He had just given in to it all. Betsy now turned her attention to him. "Put your snout in the left barrel~" She'd smile and let out a little moo in delight. He simply sighed and obeyed. The barrel was just large enough for him to comfortably fit his entire snout inside with ease. 

Her hoof began wrapping around the trigger that attached to the barrel and angled the barrels slightly downwards so he had to raise his snout accordingly. "Good... now take a deep breath.... Good... now siiiigh..." The Snivy sighed heavily through his mouth and went slightly limp. Just as he did, she pulled the trigger. *KRK-DOOSH!* A big puff of smoke puffed out of the top of the barrel and away from the Miltank. Hot pellets tore through the lizard with ease; blowing his head to pieces and punching various medium-sized holes in his belly and back. The last thing he saw was his own flesh flying outwords on both sides of his face before everything went black. With a small moan of delight she pulled the gun away from him as blood and chunks fell out onto the floor along with his body. Smirking, she broke the gun open and pulled the hot red shell out; replacing it with a blue one. "Ok buddy... you're next~" 

"Gh... uhhhgh..." groaned the poor bleeding Bunneary while she tried desperately to hold her now flopping  intestines still. The dominate bovine just smirked and expertly flung the blood off her blade. With a smirk she turned her attention to the helpful avian. "Mmm... aren't you a good boy, holding her still while I rammed her through?" She raised his head slowly with the tip of her blade against his beak. He looked to the side to not make eye contact. "Hehe, well..." she'd pause and fling her arm back with speed and then outwards in a slash; the sword vanishing into a silver streak. "You deserve a little mercy." With that the necks of the Farfetch'd and a Machamp next to him both began to gush blood down their chests. Once the Machamp realized what had happened he quickly grasped his throat, only to find that his head had fallen and rolled to Trish's hoof. The Farfetch'd collapsed on his knees and fell forwards, his head detaching from his neck from the impact. 

After a moment of looking over her sword as it dripped with blood, Trish went over to the bag once again and set the blade down on the ground. She knew none of them would dare go for it or anything else inside the bag, especially after her last few kills. She returned to the remaining two Pokemon with a large sledgehammer over her shoulder, looking similar to an oversized cartoon-style mallet. The muscles in her arm could be seen straining to hold it steady. She took her time looking over the remaining Bulbasaur and Oshawot that remained; approaching the shivering Bulbasuar. "Look up..." she'd demand with a grin. Terrified, he obeyed, only to see the large metal dangling over his head. "N-no d- NGHHH!!" He'd plead with her just as she dropped the heavy object intentionally; the metal bashing his wide forehead inwards by the power of gravity alone and causing some pretty intense brain damage from splintering skull that buried itself deep inside his frontal lobe. His forehead now had a slight trickle of blood pouring down to the ground as he stumbled and slumped onto his belly, groaning incoherantly and spasming violently. "Ooo, all that from just dropping it huh?" She'd look over to the Oshawott who had tears streaking down her cheeks while staring ahead. "This'll be fun~" 

Betsy now stood over the Squirtle with both barrels pressed against his forehead who still stared up with wide eyes. One of the Pokemon that they had taken in recently, a Tepig, watched with interest at what she was doing; taking notice of the chunks of Snivy that still laid on the floor. Unlike their victims, the male porcine had yet to experience their cruelty over time. "Hey... what are you doing?" He'd ask cutely, approaching with little fear since they treated him nicely so far. Her head quickly turned to his voice, sighing in relief to know it was their newest capture. She thought to tell him, but remained silent with only a little smile crossing her lips; the bovine now turning her attention again to the Squirtle as she pulled one of the triggers. The loud boom made the Tepig jump a little, though he didn't stop approaching her, even when he saw small drops of blood splatter upwards and to the sides. His eyes examined the water type as he arched his back upwards before his whole body began to convulse harshly; the Squirtle now seeing distorted warm and cool colors surrounding him that nausiated him quickly. Casually, Betsy broke open the gun and pulled out the used shell.

"W-what did you do?" "Oh, I just filled his brain with lead is all." He'd cock his head, wondering why she'd do such a thing. Oddly, he didn't seem bothered by her act either since he walked over to the two. She could tell he was more interested than worried by how he looked at the Squirtle; gawking at the strange bumps and welts that seemed to bulge his forehead upwards. "Is that what you did with the other one there?" She'd look back and smile, closing her gun again. "Kinda... but it was different ammo that I used." She'd smile kindly, holding the gun with one hoof while the Tepig poked at the lumps, causing them to leak blood down the Squirtle's face. "Does it hurt?" "I think it would, yeah." She'd coo, tilting her head a bit. "Do you... actually like this?" She'd ask with genuine curiosity while he continued to torment the poor water type with curious pokes and prods, taking note of one of the steel balls that popped out of the lumpy wound from his curious kneading. "Why don't you help me do it again?" The Tepig's eyes widened a little. "But... I don't have the kind of hooves you do." "That's fine, just hold it steady for me." She'd smile, encouraging him to hold the grip for her. He had no reservations towards the offer and gladly used both hooves to keep the weapon on targe as she did fire another round into the Squirtle's head; killing him and ending his agony. Unknown to the Tepig she would definitely use this method for his own demise... but that was for another time. For now though she let him go on his way back to where they kept him and the others.

"HYA!" Yelled out Trish in time with Betsy's gunshot as she now used a full force swing down onto the Bulbasaur's head, splattering chunks of blood, bone and vicera in all directions; parts of her udder now painted with warm blood. Once she lifted the heavy tool all that was left was the spinal cord that disappeared inside the cave of chunky flesh; the rest all pancaked onto the floor and on her hammer. The Oshawott was naturally mortified. "Phew... alright... you're the last of the bunch hon." The bovine cornered her easily while holding the dripping hammer in both hooves. Suddenly, she began to bring her arms and the hammer back, sending a violent swing right to the water otter's head; she screamed right before it made impact with her temple. She could hear her own skull crunching and caving in to the heavy blow that made one eye pop and the other fly out of it's socket, blood gushing out in one form like jelly as it splattered the support beam next to her. The bovine actually overswung and did a comical spin until she let the hammer go out of her grip, causing it to slam into the wall and dent the wood. "Ngh... I think I pulled something... shit..." She'd grunt and groan, not even paying attention to the brutal sight of the Oshawott's caved-in temple and bloated face.

With their acts accomplished the two cows regrouped to the middle of the barn and looked around to admire the gory sight. "All in a days work~" Chimed Betsy who looked at Trish while she grunted and held her back. "And lemmie guess... you swung too hard again." "Ngh..." She chuckled. "I keep telling you to use guns but you don't listen." "I like using more physical things ok!?" Trish snapped and cringed at the pain in her back while Betsy just sighed and rubbed her shoulder. "C'mon... lemmie give you another massage then. We'll clean this up later... last thing we want are flies to come by."