#pit vore

With a flick of his head and a wet gulp, M.onty sends the last pair of kicking legs down the hatch. He slurps wetly over his teeth and huffs out a deep, sated sigh. He can feel the human sink into his gut, bulging it out another notch and making his casing groan. He gives his stomach a few harsh pats and lets loose a deep roar of a belch.

“This has gotta be enough,” M.onty rumbles, looking down at his middle. His stomach is hanging down to his knees, sticking out by several feet. It bulges and shifts all on its own, a decent gaggle of humans packed deeply inside. Their muffled screams overlap, making it hard to pick out any particular voices, especially through the thick material of his gut and the harsh gurgles coming out.

M.onty is sick of being anything but top dog. B.onnie and F.reddy are bigger than him. They’re more popular. They’re always calling the shots. But M.onty plans on changing that. He just needs to get bigger. Once he towers over both of them, they won’t dare to say a thing! But to do that, he needs fuel for his mass…easiest way to get a load of that at once? Mulch a few guys! He’s cleared out his golf course completely of drunk college students and bored dads, and it’s gotta give him what he wants.

“Y’all ready for this?” M.onty roars out, smacking his gut again with a laugh. He still can’t understand what anyone in there is saying but he didn’t care. “Time to get mulched! Let's rock and roll!” Baring his teeth, M.onty focuses all of his energy on his middle, flexing down with everything he could muster. And being a robot, his stomach might as well be a trash compactor.

Snaps and crunches and screams ring out in a grisly cacophony of noise. M.onty’s stomach visibly flexes down, crushing the many people inside together. Limbs and terrified faces stretch out his gut as everything is squeezed, only for those shapes to get squished and crushed down into unrecognizable shapes. M.onty roars out as his stomach wobbles and shrinks several inches, then more, and more. Each time more messy squelches and wet crunches echo out as a couple thousand pounds of human meat is puréed and pumped through his system.

M.onty’s entire body groans and vibrates with energy. Then there’s some creaks and whines as he starts to grow, his muscles developing further. His arms bulge and ripple, his pecs swell with strength, and his legs and tail grow thicker and stronger. M.onty’s stomach flattens out with a deep, harsh rumble, showing off far more defined abs than before. A deep, heavy sigh rolls out of M.onty as his body settles. And then he blasts out another meaty belch.

M.onty looks over himself and flexes his arms a bit. He frowns, tail flickering with annoyance. “What the hell?! That was, like, twenty people, and this is all you could do?! I’m not even any taller! Agh, I’m gonna rip you all to…oh, right. Already dead.” He huffs and rubs over his stomach with a frown. He could spend all day snacking on people and not get any bigger. What should he..?

An idea comes to M.onty and he smirks. “If you guys aren’t worth any meat…maybe those other jerks are.” Going right for B.onnie and F.reddy could be a problem. But…there is someone in the band that’s actually smaller than him. That’ll be just the boost he needs. With a grin, M.onty stomps off, already stalking his prey.

F.oxy is easy to find. He’s at the newly installed bar, his favorite place to be since it lets him drink rum and tell his stories to drunkards. Though, right now, the bar is barren other than the fox and the bit serving drinks. It makes it easy for M.onty to stomp in unbothered. F.oxy doesn’t notice until the gator bumps into his back and makes him spill his drink.

“Yarg, watch where yer goin’ ya—“ F.oxy turns around to keep talking, just for M.onty to grab him by the throat. The pirate squeaks as he’s yanked up into the air, seeing M.onty’s wide, toothy grin in his face.

“Hey, Captain,” M.onty rumbles. “I need your drunk ass to help me out for a second. Don’t worry, it’ll be quick.” Before F.oxy can try to respond, M.onty shoves the fox’s muzzle right between his pecs. F.oxy starts to wiggle pathetically, but M.onty keeps him pressed up against the bar. There’s nowhere for him to go other than further in, with the back of his head being pushed down and squeezed further between M.onty’s pecs.

“Aaaah yeah,” M.onty huffs, pulling his fingers out from his own pecs. F.oxy’s neck deep in them now and M.onty can feel his muffled voice vibrating inside of him. “You’re gonna look way better on me, Captain. So you better…nngh…thank me for it!” M.onty cups his hands under F.oxy’s ass and pushes hard, grunting and huffing as he forces even more of the fox into his chest.

F.oxy’s arms get pinned down fast, his shoulders, chest, and stomach all squeezing into M.onty’s chest with ease. It makes the gator’s chest start to bulge out as it’s filled. F.oxy’s legs kick around, hanging out comically. M.onty squeezes F.oxy’s ass before shoving it into his chest with a huff. Then he grabs F.oxy by the ankles and starts pushing his legs in. His chest swells more and more, until only F.oxy’s twitching feet are poking out. M.onty chuckles and pushes down with a finger, getting knuckle deep in his own pecs before pulling away.

M.onty admits his chest, crudely groping over it as he feels F.oxy struggling inside. Muffled yelling just barely makes it out, bulges shifting around as the pirate struggles inside. “Heh…my chest is already so thick, I can’t hear a damn thing you’re saying! So I’m just gonna assume you’re begging me to crush you into pec meat. And I’m happy to help out!”

M.onty flexes his chest, getting a clearer—though still muffled—scream out of F.oxy. “Hff…alright, let’s try that again.” Another flex, this one with more effort out into it. Something inside crunches and F.oxy thrashes with a howl. “Ugh, c’mon, F.oxy! You’re already stuck in there! Just…let me kill you already! You’re…pec…meat!” M.onty flexes again with a snarl. F.oxy’s scream warps with the sound of crunching metal, the Pirate’s body finally giving out and being compacted down in M.onty’s body. The gator’s pecs twitch and bounce as they smooth out with instantaneous effects.

M.onty’s muscles swell again, mass and power flowing through him to give him more. At the same time, his body groans deeply as he suddenly grows a few inches. His body gets wider, muscles thicker and stronger, and his pecs especially ballooning in size as a lot of F.oxy adds to them. Red hair also begins to cover M.onty, coming from his chest and under his arms, as well as over his abs. A slight scent fills the air, a thick musk that’s emanating from the gator.

M.onty takes several deep breaths, his chest rising and falling with each one. He rumbles softly and flexes over his new muscles a few times, feeling the tingling sensation in them slowly fading. “Haa…see? Wasn’t that hard, was it, pec meat? You look way better like this.” M.onty squeezes his pecs, grinning. “And I…look way better, too! Heh, let's see those two jerks try calling the shots now. In fact…I bet I can get even bigger. And if I’m in charge, who even needs those two?” Chuckling to himself, M.onty returns to his hunt, this time with new prey in mind.

B.onnie and F.reddy were just too predictable. The two of them are spending their time together between major performances, being all lovey-dovey between B.onnie Bowl. It’s a private space just the two of them can go so they can enjoy their time together. Well, until M.onty comes in, interrupting the two of them.

F.reddy gets flustered and pulls away from B.onnie, who doesn’t seem as bothered. He’s moreso surprised by M.onty’s new look. He gets to his feet, finding himself just slightly shorter than the gator, not including his ears. “Woah, Mont, you get a redesign or something?”

M.onty grins, tail flicking back and forth. “Something like that. Jealous?” He flexes his arms and bounces his pecs, shamelessly showing off to the rabbit. “C’mere, cop a feel. I don’t mind.”

B.onnie does step forward, putting a hand on one of M.onty’s arms. “Wow, that’s definitely something. What’s with that smell, though?”

“What, you like it? Lemme help ya get a good whiff then!” He grabs B.onnie by the back of the head, lifting his right arm up and planting the rabbit’s face right into his furry pit. B.onnie lets out a muffled cry, trying and failing to push himself away.

“M.onty!” F.reddy practically jumps to his feet now and rushes over. “That is not funny, let him go at once!”

“Don’t be jealous~” M.onty says, lowering his arm on B.onnie’s head. “You can get a smell, too!” He grabs F.reddy by the scruff, overpowering the bear with ease and shoving his face into the other pit. “Yeeeah, that’s it. That’s the smell of a real leader! Go on, get a deeper smell!” M.onty lowers his other and over F.reddy and squeezes down on them, grunting as he wedges their heads into his pits.

M.onty’s muscles flex and bulge as he starts to pull his bandmates in deeper. Their muffled voices get harder to hear as they start to disappear, shoulders squeezing into M.onty’s pits, followed by their chests. M.onty lifts his arms up now, continuing to flex them to drag more of their bodies in. F.reddy and B.onnie keep trying to thrash, pushing and pounding on M.onty’s body up until they get pinned down by their stomachs sinking in.

Their legs start kicking now, lifting off the ground and steadily sliding upward. M.onty’s arms keeping swelling outward, muscles bulging and shifting as F.reddy and B.onnie get squished into his biceps. M.onty growls lowly, enjoying the sensation and relishing in each flex he gives as it sucks in several more inches of his bandmates. Their legs steadily disappear, kicking and twitching, all the way to the end. Two pairs of feet sink beneath the red fur of M.onty’s pits and he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh.

“That’s…the…stuff,” M.onty huffs out, flexing over his arms with each word. His biceps are bulging around F.reddy and B.onnie, their faces or hands occasionally stretching him out. “This is it. I’m in charge now. You two are just going to make me even better! So hurry up, I wanna feel you two die!” Month flexes his arms down tightly again, feeling the bodies of the two animatronics straining under the pressure.

“C’mon…hurry up!” M.onty demands, flexing his arms again. “I’m bigger and stronger than both of you!” Another flex. He can hear B.onnie lot out a particularly loud yell and something inside his arm gets crushed. “You’re already inside of me, there’s nothing you can do!” Another flex makes F.reddy yell out Month’s name, just barely audible, as something folds and the bulges shift. “Make me better…make me bigger…and get outta my way! Just die!” M.onty roars and flexes down with all his might.

Screeching, warping metal overpowers M.onty’s roar. B.onnie shrieks as his body folds and compresses, and F.reddy tries to plea as he’s crushed and flattened. Both of their voices fade with wet crunches as their heads cave under the immense pressure, and Month’s arms round out and shrink down as their bodies are reduced into nothing.

And M.onty grows. His body ripples and shifts, groans and creaks, as everything changes. He shoots up inch after inch after inch, becoming a full foot taller. His body swells, arms and legs thickening with muscle, looking like tree trunks. His pecs shoot out a couple of inches, more mass adding to him. His stomach is rock hard, abs twitching and flexing involuntarily. Even his tail grows in length and thickness, whipping around dangerously. More body hair covers his body, blanketing his pecs in a thick red and peppering the rest of his torso. He even grows a five o’clock shadow. The stink of musk is now a thick, constant presence he has that would likely be suffocating from its source. Even his voice gets deeper, his roar making the room rumble around him.

And then it’s over. The tingling, burning sensation fades as quickly as it came. M.onty pants and huffs, his muscles still flexing slightly on their own. He’s a walking wall of muscle, far bigger than any of the animatronics had been. He slowly feels over his body, a grin curling onto his muzzle as he does.

D.K Y.oshi F.ox B.owser F.alco M.ewtwo S.onic K.ing Dedede L.ucario W.olf W.ii Fit Trainer D.uck Hunt R.idley K. R.ool P.iranha Plant B.anjo

Round 2

With eight contestants left, tensions are getting a bit higher now. There’s less mystery over who is going to have to face against who. D.K keeps glaring at Fox with a toothy grin, while S.onic and Wolf are sizing each other up. L.ucario is doing his best to ignore R.idley opening drooling over him and just barely holding back. B.owser wasn’t so worried, not really noticing that the P.iranha Plant is slurping over its lips as it stares at him, eager to taste K.oopa meat.

Finally, the next bracket is made, and the first two competitors can walk out to begin round 2.

P.iranha Plant v B.owser

B.owser grins as he sees the P.iranha Plant across from him. He was figuring it would give up pretty fast, let its king take the win and move on. So he stomps over, ready to grab it and eat. So he was a bit taken back when it suddenly launched his head forward and took a snap at him, just barely missing his nose.

“Hey, whaddya think you’re doing?!” B.owser demands angrily. “Did you forget who your king is?!” As if to answer him, P.iranha Plant attempts another lunging snap. This one, B.owser had to back away from to avoid. He snarls now, flames leaking out between his lips. This is treason! He’s going to make sure he teaches this plant a lesson.

Fire immediately spews forth from B.owser’s maw, hoping to roast the plant. It doesn’t as the P.iranha Plant begins to spin its leaves like a fan, taking to the sky and blowing the flames back. Its flying in towards B.owser, jaws snapping greedily, and the king has to dodge out of the way to avoid that drooling maw.

As soon as the plant landed again, B.owser charges in and dives into his shell, spinning around rapidly. He manages to sweep the plant up with it, knocking it around until it’s sent flying and crashing to the ground. B.owser pops back out and stands with a laugh. That should teach it!

He grabs the P.iranha Plant by the stem to lift it up. It’s jaws keep trying to snap, wanting nothing more than to devour all that K.oopa meat. B.owser puts a stop to that with a blast of fire that saps more of the plant’s energy out of it.

B.owser would rather this be actual meat than...well, the opposite of that. But at least it got thicker after its last match. So B.owser opens his drooling maw wide, lowering the P.iranha Plant inside pot first. A few wet gulps and slurps sucks it down, its head disappearing past his lips and down the hatch.

“Bleh...” That shouldn’t count as food at all, given that awful taste. B.owser’s guts boil wetly and the plant doesn’t last long in that lava-like tank. Barely a minute later, B.owser hikes up his tail and pushes out a single log. It’s even smaller than the last, with only a flower pot baked into the mess. B.owser can’t feel smug about that! The next meal better be worth it...

With an annoyed huff, B.owser is stomping off, declared the victor.

Fox v D.K

Once the grumbly B.owser was back, Fox and D.K were heading out to the arena. Fox doesn’t really like the way the ape is looking at him at all. But he gives his gut a squeeze, knowing that D.edede had been about the same size and now he’s nothing but fat. He’s sure he can do the same to the gorilla, even as D.K bounces his pecs just to tease the fox.

Both of them have the same strategy as before, with D.K winding up his arm while Fox starts trying to wear him down with shots. All Fox’s strategy does is let D.K prepare himself before he comes charging in. Of course, Fox is fast, and is able to bounce back when the ape comes at him and makes a grab for him.

It becomes a game of cat and mouse, with Fox running and leaping around D.K as the gorilla tries to take shots at him. Between his fiery leaps and illusionary dashes, Fox is usually able to keep just out of D.K’s grasp while laying some cover fire on him any time he gets a chance. All that’s doing is winding D.K up more.

When Fox tries to zip past D.K with another of his illusions, the ape actually saw it coming. D.K turned around the second Fox disappeared, and when he reappeared, large hands slam over his head on either side. It makes fox yelp out and leaves him stunned, giving D.K a chance to punch him with a wound-up arm and send Fox crashing face-first into the floor some distance away.

Fox groans out, trying to pick himself up. His blaster is sitting in front of him and he tries to reach for it. But he’s dragged back with a yelp and lifted off the ground, held by his ankle by D.K. He’s brought face-to-face with D.K, the gorilla grinning wide and toothily. It actually gets a slight whimper out of Fox. Then D.K lifts his free arm, showing off a furry pit to Fox.

Fox’s cry is muffled as he’s shoveled face-first into the ape’s armpit. Fox tries to push away or beat on D.K, but it doesn’t do anything. D.K just starts to push down on Fox and the smaller man begins sinking deeper. Fox kicks and struggles for a little bit, but once he’s up to his stomach, a hard flex from D.K’s arm ends that. His body spasms for a moment before going slack, the gorilla’s muscles growing thicker at the same time. Pushing down on his boots slurps the last of Fox out of sight, and another strong flex reduces his body into muscle mass.

D.K snorts and thumps his chest with a roar. He stomps his feet as he widens his stance and, in one smooth, full log, pushes Fox back out. The mass coils up under the ape, fur and bones poking out of him, the skull dropping first with its jaws still open. One a pair of boots push out and the log is pinched off, the deed is done, and D.K lumbers off smugly as he’s declared the winner.

L.ucario v R.idley

L.ucario winces slightly when D.K returns, his musk even thicker after taking on another meal. His sensitive nose can’t take it. Wolf has the same problem, his laughing over the battle only stopping because he had to cover his nose. D.K at least had a smug grin on his face when he sat down.

L.ucario is happy to get out of the room and out to the field. He’s joined by his opponent, R.idley, the alien creature twitching in anticipation for the match. Both of them are sporting a bit of extra fat from their last matches and they intend to be the one to have more in the end.

R.idley strikes fast by launching in and grabbing L.ucario. The jackal is then slammed into the ground and dragged along until he’s tossed into the air and struck with R.idley’s tail. It makes L.ucario howl out and he comes crashing to the ground soon, reeling in pain. R.idley immediately follows up by launching a volley of fireballs at the P.okemon.

L.ucario takes a hit from a couple before he’s finally able to get up and move out of the way. It’s clear to him that R.idley is trying to exhaust him with unrelenting attacks. L.ucario can feel his aura surging through him, his weakening body causing it to only get stronger. He has to find a balance here--if he takes too many hits, he’ll go down. But if he can do this right, he’ll be able to stop the alien in one shot.

L.ucario tries to rush in, but R.idley is quick to take to the sky and launch himself at the P.okemon like a missile. It sends L.ucario skidding back, just barely able to miss snapping jaws that tried to end him, and he’s hit with R.idley’s tail again right after. The P.okemon staggers slightly, finding exhaustion creeping in already. R.idley senses that weakness as well and launches forward, jaws open wide to devour his opponent.

What R.idley gets instead is a blast of powerful aura right in the mouth from L.ucario’s paw. It makes the alien shriek as he’s suddenly knocked backward and onto the ground. His head is left spinning, all the damage he’d done blasted right back at him with a Force Palm. L.ucario doesn’t give a second to let this opportunity go to waste. He grabs R.idley’s tail and, after a few rubs to his crotch, stuffs it right down his cock.

With a wet slurp, R.idley is dragged along the ground, his tail disappearing rather quickly. With a groan and a shake of his head, R.idley is coming to. He tries to push himself up again, but he’s sucked deeper, his legs folding up against his torso as his ass is now disappearing into the P.okemon’s cock. L.ucario is trying his hardest to keep a stern expression, not wanting to betray the clear pleasure he’s getting from this.

There’s a lot less pleasure on R.idley’s face, as he screeches and claws at the ground, trying to pull himself backwards. But L.ucario’s cock was stronger, still pulling the space pirate deeper despite the resistance. Deep claw marks gouge through the ground, R.idley’s screeches like nails on glass as he sinks in further and further.

L.ucario’s sack bulges out and hangs down more as they’re filled. R.idley’s stomach is already sinking down, his legs and tail now trying to stretch the P.okemon’s sack out. As R.idley sinks in up to his chest, he pivots to trying to slash at L.ucario. Both of his arms are seized by the wrist, L.ucario’s powerful aura shooting shocks through him. It keeps him still enough to let his chest and shoulders sink down. With a final cry, so does his head, and L.ucario finally releases his arms to let those slurp down his cock.

L.ucario shivers slightly and lets out a sigh through his nose. He’s already stroking himself, eyes closed with a tense expression. His nuts are resting on the ground, R.idley thrashing within, the flesh stretched tight around his large form. With a huff, L.ucario flexes his nuts, getting a cry from R.idley as he’s suddenly smashed into a more compact form. L.ucario is once again focusing his aura, using it to end his prey as quickly as possible.

R.idley tries to fight back as best he can, stretching out the P.okemon’s sack with trashing and kicks. But L.ucario clenches each time, forcing R.idley back into a ball. A thick, boiling churn comes from those working nuts, R.idley’s cries replaced with sputters and coughs. Each time L.ucario’s sack clenches, the sharp and clear details of R.idley’s form is looking less defined. Even his powerful body can’t do much against a broiling sack and his useless thrashing grows weaker and weaker.

In only a few clenches, R.idley’s screeching has turned into weak cries. He can barely make the rounding sack bulge with his weak struggles, only getting thick sloshes to come forth. With another clench, even that stops, only some whimpering noises rising over the sounds of bubbling. L.ucario tenses, gritting his teeth and clenching again. R.idley finally goes silent as L.ucario howls, a geyser of cum shooting forth and splattering to the ground.

Everything gets painted white quickly, gallons of seed striking the ground with each rope that fires. Large bones strike the ground as well, R.idley’s skeleton having managed to survive long enough to come back out. Not that it does him any good, as even his skull ends up slamming into the ground, jaws still open wide from his final cry.

The intense orgasm comes to an end soon after that, L.ucario left panting and huffing from the overwhelming feeling. His legs are wobbling slightly but he manages to hold his ground. He feels much better at least, R.idley’s aura giving him a large boost. Not to mention the new merchandise he’s got swinging between his legs, his nuts a bit fatter and cock bigger. L.ucario tries not to blush as he wipes the mess off of himself.

The announcer had declared his victory after that, L.ucario walking from the arena once he’s collected himself.

Wolf v S.onic

L.ucario doesn’t make any eye contact with the others as he gets back and sits down. He’s still blushing a bit over that moment of vulnerability. The viewing room is getting emptier with time, and the last pair of contenders are both impatient at this point. They’re both up and moving before L.ucario has even sat down.

On the field, Wolf and S.onic are both exuding confidence. Naturally, both of them believe they’ll easily come out on top and are eager for a chance to prove it. Wolf smirks, showing off his teeth as he spins his blaster in his paw. “I was hoping I’d get to show up that birdbrain myself, but taking you down will be just as good. Cocky and blue...that’s close enough.”

“You’ll have to keep up with me to do that,” S.onic retorts, stretching out. “Oh wait, F.alco did keep up...and I still dumped him. So, I guess this’ll be even faster.” S.onic curls up and begins to speed along the ground, rocketing for Wolf.

Wolf does try to avoid it by lunging to the side, but he’s not fast enough to get totally out of the way. S.onic catches him in the side and he hits the ground with a growl. S.onic turns fast and comes barreling in to run him down again, but Wolf has enough time to aim his blaster and fire at the spinning speedster.

It’s enough to make S.onic come tumbling to a stop, landing flat on his stomach. He groans and rubs his head as he pushes himself up. Wolf is in front of him, grinning wide, blaster aimed down at S.onic. “This keeping up just fine?”

“Not quite.” S.onic bounces back just as Wolf fires, avoiding the shot. Then he comes flying back in with a homing attack, hitting Wolf in the chest and making the mercenary stumble. More shots fire, but S.onic speeds away from them, only to come in for another homing attack as soon as there’s an opening and knocking Wolf’s blaster away.

With a snarl, Wolf tries meeting S.onic head on instead, slashing with his claws at the next homing attack. It knocks S.onic out of the air, but the force of hitting it knocks Wolf back onto his ass as well. S.onic lands on his feet, and so is able to launch into another homing attack. Wolf, unable to get back to his feet, attempts opening his jaws for the incoming attack.

It’s not enough. Wolf yelps as his head is pulled into the blue blur instead, and the rest of him soon after. By the time S.onic hits the ground, Wolf is gone from sight, and he’s still spinning around. He comes to a screeching halt, standing tall and visible again. A hand rests on his stomach, looking a bit plumper, and a stray belch escapes him. Some gray fur flutters out of his jaws and nothing else. “Not bad. Maybe space food gets a bad rap, I’ve been enjoying it lately!”

A low groan rumbles out of S.onic’s stomach and he winces. “Woof...goes right through me, though.” He squats down, grunting as he pushes. Like F.alco before, Wolf escapes the hedgehog’s bowels all at once, a thick log baked around his skeleton and clothes sliding out onto the ground.

Wolf slides out skull first, his jaws still open wide and an eyepatch connected to the skull. Then the rest follows, his uniform still worn over his bones, slightly tattered and stained. All of it sits half naked in the foul waste. Boots pushed out soon, and S.onic pinched the log off with a content sigh.

Barry had to admit, he didn’t think things would go so...well? When the giant, cannibal serial killer basically told him they were dating, Barry figured it was just a little game and he’d be dinner himself sooner or later. But then he survived their first date...and the next...and the next...and the next. And now, a year later, Barry is starting to wonder if it’s not really a game.

Sure, tons of other guys have died over the course of their dates. Like...a lot, a lot. But not Barry. Bob licks him a lot, yeah, and might stick a hand or his head into that slimy, deadly maw...but he always lets Barry go again with a chuckle. Now, it’s Halloween again. Their one-year anniversary. And Bob wanted to do something special. And it involved the large house party that is happening tonight.

Bob is wearing his usual outfit, a thick red sweater and his devil face. Barry had let Bob do some face paint for him, too, so he’s a skeleton this year. A joke, since Bob likes to mention how he ‘has no meat on his bones’. Barry is only half confident that, if he did bulk up, Bob wouldn’t eat him.

Right now, at least, that drooling grin is much more focused on the house they’ve walked up to. Music blares out from inside, door open and already a few people milling about. Everyone is dressed in costumes of some kind and is in some state of tipsy. Barely anyone is even paying attention to them as they walk up...which really just makes the next part easy.

Bob yanks a guy dressed as a superhero up off the porch stairs by the back of his shirt. Maw opened wide, Bob lowers the guy right in, a few wet slurps and gulps sending him away. He barely even got a yell out before Bob’s jaws clack shut and his belly sloshes with live meat dropping inside. The killer slurps over his lips with a groan and pats his gut. “Mmm...now that’s good eatin’...”

Barry can’t help the slight chuckle that comes out of him. The guy didn’t even bulge Bob’s gut out, and it’s gurgling thickly around him. “How many people do you plan on eating, anyway?”

Bob slurps over his lips and looks down at Barry with wide, hungry eyes. “All of ‘em, darlin’.”

“...what?” Barry knew that Bob is a big eater. But he’s usually careful about where he goes to eat and how many people it is. He’s never seen the big guy go for more than ten meals at a time, and even that is when he’s being indulgent. The party is way more than that. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just watch.” Bob chuckles and pats his gut, the porch stairs creaking under him as he walks up. Three more people are lingering around the porch, and Bob does the same thing to each of them--hefts them off the ground and into his drooling jaws, slurping them away with practiced skill. By the time a pair of twitching cowboy boots are disappearing down his gullet, his groaning guts have begun to bulge out his shirt, peeking out of the bottom ever so slightly. Bob looks to Barry, blasts out a thick belch into the smaller man’s face, and then waddles into the house. Barry can only follow in stunned silence.

Bob’s massacre continues inside. The loud music helps to muffle a lot of what happens. Sure, people are more likely to notice Bob devouring others. It’s hard not to when he’s snapping his jaws down on people mid conversation, or walking up to clusters or people and just shoveling them down the hatch. But the yelling doesn’t do much, and no one is able to get away from those drooling jaws.

People try to grab onto their friends, and it gets them sucked down right after. Other try to rub, but Bob’s size makes it hard to get away from him, and he always grabs them and pull them into his maw. A few braver or larger guys try fighting him, but getting close enough to do so all but confirms their fate as food.

Before long, the living room of the house is mostly empty. Bob huffs, pushing a pair of kicking legs into his gullet. He doesn’t even swallow, just sends them down with a long push. “Nnf...there...” Bob slurps over his lips and pats his gut. It’s heavy, sticking out before him several feet and nearly on the ground. It’s bulging around the various people inside, limbs and heads and awkward shapes from costumes stretching him out. His sweater has ridden up on him completely, exposing the pale, hairy flash. It’s churning and rumbling wetly, working hard on all of the meat inside. Bob belches deeply, a couple stray bits flying out of his jaws--a plastic gladiator’s helmet, a boot, and a bone that definitely wasn’t a prop, among other things.

“W-Wow...” Barry murmurs, just staring at that massive gut. He’s never seen it this big. He reaches out, pushing on it and finding it taut. He gives it a rub, earning a content huff from Bob. If it wasn’t for the face paint, Barry’s blush would be very obvious. “Okay...you were able to eat a lot, I’ll give you that.” The gut gurgles thickly against Barry’s hands, as if agreeing. “But you’ve got to be full now, right?”

“Hm...” Bob taps his chin, looking down at Barry over the curve of his gut. “...I s’pose I could give my gut a break.”

“Alright. Maybe we should go before anyone else shows up then, just so--” Barry stops when he watches Bob pull his sweater off and casually toss it onto the couch he just cleared of its occupants. “...what are you doing?”

“I said I’d give my gut a break, darlin’.” Bob stretches his arms out, definitely showing off a bit--his gut has always been round and soft, and while his arms and chest had a bit of that softness as well, he had some well built muscle mass. “Didn’t say I was done.”

“But...” Barry trails off as Bob goes waddling off, towards the kitchen. A few more people are inside, making food or getting some that’s been left out. Barry stands in the large doorway, watching as Bob hoists up a couple of guys.

The two men find themselves getting shoved face first into thick, furry pits. They start to kick immediately, but Bob gives their heads a good shove, and they slip right in. Then they’re sinking deeper, disappearing into his body. It wasn’t just his jaws that he can eat with, after all, and while he had his preference...Bob was hardly far from full. In no time at all, a couple pairs of twitching feet disappear behind black pit fur, and Bob’s arms are bulging out slightly more than usual.

He moves right on, grabbing a guy rummaging through the fridge. He’s dragged up and over the curve of that bulging, stuffed gut. He gets out a surprised yell before his head is crammed between Bob’s pecs, and just like before, the man is simply sinking into the muscles with little resistance. A few tight flexes, and the man is gone, leaving Bob’s chest slightly more bulky than it had been.

The few remaining people in the room are put away just the same. Bob makes eye contact with Barry, arms folded behind his head, a blindly grasping arm and a twitching leg disappearing into each of his pits. “Think I can’t handle my meat anymore?”

Barry shakes his head quickly.

Bob chuckles and heads out back. The backyard has a lot more guys around, sitting by a fire or drinking on the patio. Just like the living room, the eating continues with no issue. Except it goes much faster, with three spaces to stuff with squirming meat instead of one. Bob’s arms and pecs continue to bulge out with each guy he sends in. They all kick and squirm, but the second they get pushed between his pecs or into the fur of his pit, it’s just a matter of time until they’ve been slurped out of sight.

Barry only stopped watching so he could help. He went back into the house, going through each room and telling any stragglers to head to the backyard. “There’s a fight!” “I think I saw your boyfriend kissing someone.” “Someone’s calling for you.” Whatever he could think of to get them to head out, he said it. By the time he’s double checked the house and returned to the backyard, Bob is already coming back inside.

The killer looks down at Barry, who walks directly into his gut. Barry had to back up just to properly see Bob’s face. His gut is still massive, but digestion is already taking its toll, the mass inside getting more compact and growing smaller. His pecs and arms are also massive now, bulging and flexing as they try to contain all the squirming meat. Barry can see an arm or even a head surface from between Bob’s pecs or his pit hair, but a single flex sucks them right back into place. If it wasn’t for the massive double doors, Bob wouldn’t even be able to fit inside.

Barry can’t even say anything. He just stares, and it makes Bob chuckle. The smaller man is gently ushered along, back to the living room, and Bob settles onto the couch. It breaks almost immediately under him, but he just settles in and pats his gut. “Happy anniversary, darlin’.”

“You...did this for the anniversary?” Barry asks. He slowly raises his hands to start rubbing along Bob’s gut, then up to his pecs and along his arms.

“What can I say? I wanted to show off a bit.” Bob pats the top of his gut with both heads. He tips his head back and lets out a deep, rumbling belch into the air. Barry swears it makes the entire house shudder. More bits of costume bounce around, and at least a few bones, too. “Figures I’d put on a show for ya.”

All these people are digesting for Barry, then. Some...god, fifty or so partygoers who were just trying to have a good night are now just food. Packed into Bob’s hellish guts, or stuffed into his tight, musky muscles, doomed to die, just so Bob could ‘show off’ for Barry. The smaller man pushes his hands a bit deeper into Bob’s gut, finding more resistance, and even getting another wet belch out of the killer. “...thanks, Bob. This was...wow.”

Bob chuckles and settles back. “Glad ya enjoyed it. Happy anniversary, lambchop. Now then...” WIth a mighty yawn, Bob closes his eyes. “I’m gonna sleep this off. You have fun down there.”

Before long, the sound of heavy snoring is joining the thick rumbles of Bob’s gut and the crunches and snaps coming from his muscles. And Barry enjoys it all, rubbing over every inch of the man’s body, feeling it work and process all of that meat. Up until he fell asleep against that rapidly softening gut.

Come morning, Bob was up first, yawning and blinking sleepily. He can feel his little lambchop sleeping against him, a rather familiar feeling at this point. Bob would have stayed like that if not for the wet rumbling in his bowels demanding attention. So, with a bit of effort, Bob grunts and rises to his feet.

Bob’s stomach wobbles as it drops in front of him. It’s always been heavy and round, but it’s gotten at least twice as large, hanging out at least a foot before him. He notices that his thighs and ass have had a similar shift, given how tight his pants are on him. But he also has a lot more strength to pair with that. His arms are bulky now, all solid muscle. His pecs are about the same, large and strong, resting slightly on top of his gut.

Bob smirks and scratches his gut gently, getting a wet groan in response. “Bet lambchop will love this...” He looks over at the man in question, seeing Barry still sleeping on the ruined couch. Bob grabs his sweater and pulls it down over his head. It only half covers his gut, and his arms and chest are straining the fabric. He huffs and lifts up Barry next, simply holding the now much smaller man against his gut with one arm. The other arm helps get his pants down enough to let his ass hang out. Bob squats slightly and begins to push.

There’s a bassy fart at first, one that rumbles out for a good while. The only reason it stops is because of the solid mass that starts to stretch him out. Thick, dense logs of shit are all but overflowing Bob’s bowels, and they’re sliding out with a bit of urgency. A heavy thump sounds out when the first log hits the couch, and it’s quickly coiling up. The mass only breaks from its own weight, letting more dung heap up regardless.

Plenty of solids have gotten out of Bob’s body. Bones are the easiest to see, specks of white that break up the dark brown and awkward shapes that stick out every so often. Entire skeletons are likely baked down into every log, given the sheer amount of people making up the mess. But along with that is all of the costumes parts. Masks, plastic armor, cheap suits and accessories--they also pepper the logs of shit, all of them worn down or slightly ruined by the acid bath or being compacted.

Despite all of the awkward shapes, the thickness of the logs, and the sheer mass of shit, Bob is having little issue. Other than the occasional grunt or grumble, his dump continues with little interruption. And the mass of shit behind him keeps building up. The couch is smothered fast, the pile rising hire, some hundreds of pounds of shit heaping in the room. Bob has to move forward every so often, just to give himself more space to work with. By the time he feels the last of the crap slop out of him, he’s moved halfway across the room.

Bob lets out a deep sigh and stands up again. He yanks on a curtain to wipe himself clean and pulls his pants back up with a bit of effort. Behind him, the living room is filled with a pile of crap that would put manure farms to shame. It’s tall enough to reach the ceiling at its peak, smothering most of the back wall and sloping down. Furniture has been knocked over or smothered under the thick logs. The smell is almost overwhelming, and it’ll likely never come out of the house. And of course, countless amounts of bones and costume parts stick out all over. In one night, an entire Halloween house party was reduced to crap, and all with no effort.

Bob doesn’t even look back at the pile he made. He walks off, squeezing through the front door, all while Barry sleeps against him. Bob can’t help but grin looking down at him. Nothing cuter than seeing the little guy sleeping against his deadly guts. Must’ve been up for hours, Bob figures. He’ll probably just return to bed once he’s back home, let Barry sleep in.

It was almost pathetic how weak the survivors were compared to him. One massive hand engulfed his prey's head, and it took little effort for him to lift the man right off his feet. The O.ni had to admit, he didn't care too much about these games, but the deep hunger instilled in all the killers made it hard to resist the chance to feast.

Bringing the survivor closer, he pushes the thrashing man's head between his pecs. He can yell and thrash all he wants, but the O.ni plans to eat, and these measly meals do well enough. He grabs the survivor's kicking legs to start pushing him deeper, a few low huffs coming from him as he takes deep breaths. The sensation of feeding a live man into his chest always felt good. His pecs bulge out as his prey fills them, and he lets go once he reaches the knees. All it takes is one flex to suck the last of him in. Sated, the O.ni lumbers off to get more.

It doesn't take long to find two more survivors, both hurriedly trying to get one of the generators running. They can't get away from him in time, and he hoists them off the ground by the backs of their shirts. They kick and yell and struggle, like always, and the O.ni responds by shoving those screaming faces into his armpits.

With enough shoving and flexing, the two men are sinking in effortlessly, his body long since used to consuming these lives meals in such a manner. He doesn't even need to use his hands, just lift his arms up and flex over and over, until kicking legs are disappearing under the white fuzz and his biceps are bulging with fresh meat. That leaves one...

In the time it takes the O.ni to track down his last meal, his first three are well on their way into being processed. His powerful muscles flex and squeeze over and over, breaking their weaker bodies rather easily. He can feel himself getting a little bigger and a little stronger as he adds them to his mass once again. By the time he finds the last survivor, tucked in a locker in a vain attempt at escape, there's little left of the other three men.

The survivor kicks and wiggles a bit, but he's hardly trying. The O.ni lifts him up over his head and opens wide, lowering the man down feet first into his jaws. Gulps and slurps ring out as he pushes down on the survivor, shoveling him down the greedy gullet of the killer. The soft muscle gut that's been developed over countless meals bloats out with a wet slosh as the final survivor is forced inside.

This one isn't even trying to fight it, though. It's just pathetic. The O.ni huffs and flexes his stomach once, letting out a mighty roar of a belch. His final prey is snuffed out in an instant, powerful abs and strong acids instantly mulching him down into a bit of extra heft and little more.

The O.ni rubs over his stomach slowly, feeling it groan. Working his prey down so fast also means their release comes along fast. By now, this part was as effortlessly as digesting them, and just as enjoyable...even if he'd never admit that.