You’ve just caught Dusty with a Poké Ball in a sandy desert area, the sun beating down as he tumbles out, his sandy orange scales glinting, his massive hips and rounded ass jiggling in his black stockings, his thick thighs wobbling as he stumbles to his feet, a muffin clutched in his tiny claws. His googly yellow eye blinks unevenly, one drifting off as he tilts his head, a derpy grin spreading across his face, completely unaware of the flat metal chastity cage beneath his minimal outfit, the device unnoticed as he sways.

“Ohhh… hi! I’m in a ball now, right? That’s… um… neat!” he says, his voice high-pitched and airy, his single eye blinking as he takes a clumsy step forward, nearly dropping his muffin, his plump ass bouncing as he steadies himself, crumbs falling. “Are we friends? Do you have more muffins? They’re, like, the bestest thing ever!” He giggles, his head tilting as he gets lost in thought, one eye drifting toward the sky, his derpy charm shining through as he waits for your response, oblivious to his caged state.