Dang, these f.naf prompts are super good dude! Any chance we could get more a.nimatronic prey? Could be like a regular person or other a.nimatronics that eat em. G.utcrush and d.isposal if ya could too
I'd like to do that, yeah! Glad you've been enjoying them. I'll do something with the "OG cast" as prey. With a little swap out for someone.
The technician sighs as he looks up at the stage. This old pizza place is getting shut down and the robots gotta go. Apparently, they’re too dangerous, and the company is just going to start over. There’s three of them on the stage—F.reddy, a brown bear with a top hat, B.onnie, a purple rabbit with a bow, and M.onty, a green gator with red hair. There’s a fourth one in the back, F.oxy, a red fox that’s already half broken in the cove. That one will have it be last.
The technician stops in front of the robots. He feels like they’re watching him…but they’re just robots. “Alright, guess we’ll start with the star of the show.” Grabbing onto F.reddy, the technician opens wide. He’s been given permission to scrap them however he wants. And they didn’t give him a lunch break so…
The robot’s head is forced into the technician’s maw. Not bad, kinda tastes like pizza. The man is a bit surprise when the robot seems to come alive and tries to push on his shoulders with its clunky movements. He grunts in surprise and takes a hard swallow, forcing himself down F.reddy’s shoulders. Wouldn’t hear things be turned off? Oh well, they’re not going to be working very well soon anyway.
Getting further down F.reddy’s chest, the robot's arms are forced down finally. The technician starts to move more steadily down the robot’s body. He doesn’t notice the other two watching him on either side, or how nervous the robots seem. F.reddy’s legs start lifting off the ground, kicking awkwardly in the air. The technician’s stomach is bloating out heavily as the bear is shoved in, his face stretching the skin tightly. It doesn’t seem to be causing any discomfort, though.
The technician tips his head back, slurping wetly to send those kicking legs down the hatch. His gut grows bigger until it finally slams into the ground with a thud, F.reddy’s twitching feet disappearing down the hatch. The technician slurps over his lips and pats his gut roughly a few times. “Alright, easy enough. Time for decommissioning.”
The man’s stomach begins to gurgle harshly. He grits his teeth and flexes his stomach. There’s the sound of bending metal, and F.reddy lets out a yell inside. Then the stomach roars out, mixing with the sound of screeching, warping metal. F.reddy’s voice box makes a mangled sound as it’s crushed. The defined bulge of the robotic bear is suddenly reduced to a lumpy, round shape that makes the man’s gut look a third the side. A deep, rumbling belch escapes the technician, F.reddy’s top hat hitting the ground and rolling away. “Woof…alright, one down. You’re next, B.onnie.”
B.onnie shifts slightly when his name is said. Before he can move, the technician grabs him by one of his ears and pulls him down. He starts to wave his arms around in a panic as his head is engulfed and the gulping begins again. He tries to grab onto the technician’s head, ut they’re forced down once a hard gulp gets down over his shoulders and chest. He kicks around, feet slamming into the ground over and over as he’s dragged into the technician’s gut. Boiling metal sludge is waiting for him, parts of endoskeleton and brown casing from F.reddy half melted and icing the rabbit a rough landing as he dives in.
The technician pushes down on B.onnie’s feet, shoving him all the way into his stomach. It sloshes thickly, hitting the ground again as another animatronic is forced in. “Hff…gotta call management after this and figure out who left you guys on. Should’ve been turned off…” Oh well, it’s not stopping his work. It’s barely even slowing him down. B.onnie shifts weakly inside the technician’s stomach, the slop up to his waist and the space groaning deeply.
The technician’s stomach clenches down again, B.onnie’s body folding like wet paper. He’s crushed down with a few screeches of breaking metal. The technician’s gut now hangs down to his knees, bubbling deeply and wetly, starting to pump some of that molten sludge deeper. Another wet belch blasts out of the tech and he rubs his gut slowly.
He hears something moving and looks over to see M.onty trying to stop away. He grabs the gator’s tail and lifts it up. “Nope, show time’s over.” He doesn’t even register the gator as trying to escape him. He sticks the tail in his jaws and slurps it up, dragging the clunky robot back. M.onty starts to thrash around, legs kicking and arms clawing at the ground uselessly. His body folds up with a clunk, knees at his chest.
The tech’s jaws stretch over M.onty’s torso and legs at once. The robot starts sinking down with wet gulps, getting lifted off the ground. When he’s up to his chest and knees, his tail dips into the boiling metal slurry, and the robot starts to move more erratically, jaws snapping at the air.
The tech braves himself on the wall and tips his head back. A wet, hard gulp and M.onty gets slurped down with a cry. His head and feet disappear together and he drops into the tech’s gut, making it slosh deeply and slam into the floor. The tech huffs and rubs his belly over the gator’s face. M.onty gets a few seconds to threads, making all that slop slosh around. Then the ut clenches down, crushing the gator with a roaring Becky out of the technician.
The tech Ian sighs as he starts waddling along, rubbing over his gut. It’s groaning and gurgling deeply, each step making the whole thing slosh like a water balloon. He can feel all that metal scrap shifting around inside and boiling slop pumping deeper. He’s getting fatter form it already, his clothes growing tighter over his form. His gut is hanging halfway down his shins now and each step is slow and awkward. He has one more robot to take care of…
Getting the Pirate’s Cover, the tech moves the sign aside. He pulls the curtains apart and is take by surprise with F.oxy suddenly lunging at him. He tries to scream, but he can’t. His maw is suddenly filled with robot as he’s knocked onto his back. F.oxy dives right down the man’s gullet, sinking in up to his knees. His metal feet kick slightly outside the tech’s jaws, but a gulp and a slurp sucks those down.
The tech gets back to his feet with a slight huff, his gut resting on the ground again. He rubs the back of his head, looking at his stomach as it bulges slightly from F.oxy’s thrashing. “Weird…guess that thing really was malfunctioning. Mmf, well…” He burps into his fist and flexes his gut. F.oxy goes still with a few wet crunches and a deep belch escapes the tech. “That’s the last of them. Decommissioning is going well, too. Mph…better get to the dumpster…”
Dragging himself along, the tech’s gut slowly starts to shrink back. As the animatronics are pumped away through his system, his stomach reduces in size. The rest of him begins to grow, though, more fat heaping onto his form. Even as his gut lifts up and gets easier to manage, he’s still stuck waddling, thighs pressing together as they grow and pants tearing over his expanding ass. His uniform’s shirt never does come down over his gut as it grows thicker and softer and his chest and arms strain it more. Even his face grows rounder and softer as he huffs.
By the time he gets to the dumpster, the man has tripled in size and his gut is groaning harshly. His torn pants means he doesn’t have to undress at least. With a bit of effort, he hears himself up to the side of the dumpster, massive cheeks sitting on the edge. With a grunt and a push, he begins to force the robots out.
A literal ton of shit comes cooking out rapidly. The tech’s immense control of his core goes to his bowels as well, and what light take someone hours to unload only takes a few minutes for him. The dumpster fills to the top fast, the shit two feet thick all around and dense and black. The stink is rotten and strong and little bite of metal and wiring pokes out occasionally. But it’s very little, most of the robots reduced to shit and fat. As soon as the massive log ends, the tech closes the dumpster and gets back to his feet.
“Better let management known the decommissioning is done. Hope that new P.izzaplex thing works out. They’re not getting these guys back…” With a soft burp, the tech heads back inside, leaving the old models as waste waiting to be disposed of.
