#undertalevore

A.sgore makes his way into the hall of judgement. He was asked to come here by the Judge, though he’s not sure why. He didn’t get any specifics, but he assumes if he’s being requested, it must be something important. So he walks down the empty, gilded halls, his heavy footsteps echoing through them.

Suddenly, A.sgore senses a presence behind himself. He perks up a bit and looks over his shoulder to see the much smaller skeleton standing there. There hadn’t been anywhere for him to hide and yet he showed up despite that.

“Howdy, S.ans,” A.sgore greets with a smile. “You called me, yes? Was it something important?”

“Yeah, I just needed ya real quick,” S.ans says with his usual casual smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Paps has been making nothing but spaghetti for the last month and Grillbz is gettin’ cranky about the tab, so I gotta get some dinner from somewhere else.”

A.sgore tilts his head at that and his smile softens. “Oh, is that so? Well, I may not be the best chef, but I could definitely whip us up something nice to eat!”

“Ah, that’s real nice of ya, Kingy, but--” S.ans pauses when a low, whining growl echoes from his stomach. “--hah, hear that? Poor thing can’t wait another second! So...real sorry ‘bout this.” S.ans lifts a hand up to point at A.sgore, who seems mostly confused. The king’s soul is brought out and it goes from white to blue, immediately slamming the goat down to the ground.

“Agh!” A.sgore winces, trying and failing to move himself. It feels like gravity has suddenly changed and he’s become too heavy. “S-S.ans, what is the meaning of this? What did you do?!”

“Nothin’,” S.ans says with a shrug. “You’re just blue now.” He walks forward, closing the small gap between him and the king. He grabs A.sgore by one of his horns, his stomach growling loudly again right in the goat’s face. “I’m just gonna have a quick snack. You seem good and filling, so no hard feelings.”

Before A.sgore can even ask what’s going on, S.ans’s jaws open up wide before him. A softly glowing blue magic makes up the internals the skeleton normally lacks...revealing the dark, tight, slimy pit the king is about to squeeze down. It leaves A.sgore stunned in a mix of fear and shock, so he says and does nothing as S.ans’s maw presses into his face and envelops his head.

The skeleton gives a pleased groan, his tongue slurping over A.sgore’s face a few times. He’s just happy to be tasting anything that isn’t pasta right now, and big, fluffy goat king is definitely a very unique flavor in comparison. He moves his hands to A.sgore’s upper arms now, keeping a lazy grip as he takes the first hard, wet swallow.

GLLLUNK!

A.sgore finally starts to panic, but by then, it’s a little too late. His head is bulging out S.ans’s gullet as his shoulders squeeze into the drooling maw. His screams are muffled well, not that anyone is around to hear them. And he can’t struggle while he’s being held by the other monster’s magic. He’s completely at S.ans’s mercy.

GLLLLK!

Another thick gulp surges A.sgore deeper, his chest sliding in now. S.ans would have preferred getting to the meaty center, but he didn’t want to spend too much time stalling on his meal. Can’t have someone coming by or A.sgore somehow overpowering him. The taste isn’t as bad as he’d have thought anyway, and he’s certain his stomach will be able to handle all of this just fine.

Speaking of which, S.ans’s gut lets out a low, demanding growl. A.sgore’s face is already pressed up against the sphincter for it, the staggering height difference between the two monsters making for a quick trip into the gut. S.ans’s hands move down to A.sgore’s waist so he can gulp and slurp again, dragging down the king’s stomach and stopping at his hips.

GLLLLRK! SHLLLLLRP!

A pleased burble escapes S.ans’s middle as A.sgore’s head pushes inside. It stretches a bit, his shirt riding up slightly, exposing more of the blue magic he’s used to form his insides. It’s just translucent enough for A.sgore to make out his lower body hanging from S.ans’s jaws, and S.ans would likely be able to see the panic on the king’s face if not for the goat ass he’s working past his teeth blocking his view.

S.ans tips his head back, his tongue sneaking out to curl around A.sgore’s crotch as he helps guide the man’s hips down the hatch. Then it’s just those thick legs left, which are plenty easy to slowly slurp down like noodles. Heh...noodles...as if S.ans hasn’t grown sick of those.

SHLLLLLLLLLLLRP!

The space is growing more cramped and uncomfortable for A.sgore, his bulky body stretching out the walls as he spills in. It just makes S.ans’s stomach retaliate by trying to clench down harder on him and force him into a more manageable ball of meat. He kicks his feet a little, feeling the cool air of the hallway being replaced with the steaming breath of the skeleton. S.ans’s tongue drags his feet in and with a final gulp...they’re gone.

GLLL-LURP!

S.ans sighs deeply, a small shiver running through him as he feels the last of A.sgore squeeze into his stomach. It’s stretched out tight before him, big enough that it’s resting on the ground and is nearly as tall as he is. A.sgore is curled up real tight, his armor and horns making for some very distinct bulges in S.ans’s middle. The two of them are practically eye-to-eye now with A.sgore’s face pressed into his knees.

The magic that had been holding A.sgore down dissipates, but it’s only a marginal difference to the king. The stomach walls are so tight and restrictive, he can barely move anyway. Any attempts to stretch out his arms or legs or even lift his head up more is met with a forceful squeeze that puts him back into place.

“BWWWWWWAAAAAAARRRRRRPP!!!” A harsh belch escapes S.ans, a bit of white fluff coming up with it. The thumps his chest as the sound dies off and slurps over his teeth. “That’s better. Just what I needed, a feast fit for a king.” S.ans pats the side of his stomach a few times, feeling it rumble and gurgle as it settles in to start processing all of that goat meat. “Thanks for the help.”

“S-S.ans!” A.sgore’s voice is muffled a bit, but with his face nearly pressed into S.ans’s, the skeleton can at least hear him. “What’s the meaning of this?! Let me out of here at once!” He’s trying to use his authoritative king voice, but it cracks a few times, his ill-hidden fear seeping through.

“Like I said, I just needed some dinner. And I’ve heard that goat meat is pretty classy stuff.” Despite the immense size difference between them, S.ans is able to heft up his gut in his arms just enough to lift it off the ground like it’s nothing. He starts waddling down the hall, gently sloshing A.sgore back and forth as he does. “And now...mmf...I’m going to spend the rest of my shift relaxing in your big, fancy chair.”

A.sgore lets out a distressed cry as he’s being sloshed back and forth now. S.ans easily could have just teleported wherever it was he wanted to go, and he normally would have, but the chance to tease the king with a short walk back to his own throne was too good to pass up. He didn’t really have anything against A.sgore, no real grudges and the like, but he was the biggest meal S.ans could think of that he could also easily get alone. And he’d been right!

The whole way back, A.sgore keeps shouting for help and demanding release. But there’s no one around to hear him besides S.ans, who responds to it all by just giving some wet belches or cracking a joke at the king’s expense. Eventually, S.ans has made it to the throne room. He casually walks through the flower garden, the bottom of his gut being tickled by the petals, until he finally reaches his prize.

With a very long, drawn out sigh, S.ans sits down in A.sgore’s throne and sits back in it. He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head, his gut sloshing into his lap and filling up more of the large throne himself. “Oh yeah...I knew a chair this big had to be comfy. Perfect place to kick back.”

“I-Is that what you wanted? To sit on the throne?!” A.sgore shouts. At this point, he’s getting notably more desperate. All the sloshing around has soaked him to the point he can feel it seeping through his armor. The stomach has gotten a lot noisier, too, groaning and gurgling thickly around him. And the stomach walls keep clenching over him, as if impatient he’s not yet softened. “You can sit there all you like then! Take it home if you want! Just let me out!”

S.ans chuckles softly and gives a lazy “Uuuurrrrrp!” to the air. “Oh, nah, I like my couch just fine. Has a nice butt groove in it I’ve been working on. I think your fluffybuns make for one a bit too big compared to mine.”

“Then...Then what do you want?!” A.sgore demands. The stomach walls squeeze over him again, getting a groan from him as he’s forced into a slightly tighter ball. He tries to lift his head, his horns and face making S.ans’s stomach stretch out tightly over them. A.sgore’s distress is written all over his face...or at least the bulge it’s making. “There...must be something..!”

“Yeah, I guess there is,” S.ans says with a lazy shrug. He opens one eye to look at A.sgore as he feels the goat shifting around inside. “I want some peace and quiet while I take a nap, kay? Digesting all of this goat meat is exhausting work you know.” S.ans clenches his stomach, making A.sgore shout as he’s forced back into position, and it works out a big “BWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLCCCCHHH!!!!!!” that sends A.sgore’s crown flying off into the air.

“S.ans, th-this...joke of yours has...gone on long enough!” A.sgore wheezes. It’s getting too tight and whether it’s his panic or the constriction, he’s finding it harder to get his words out. “Just...Just let me out...a-and we can pretend this never happened!” A.sgore waits for some kind of response other than the thick burbles of the skeleton’s gut. The silence is making him nervous. “S-S.ans?”

...a snore finally answers the king. S.ans is fast asleep, taking that nap he said he wanted. Panic finally takes full control of A.sgore as he begins screaming as much as he can, hoping someone will be close enough to hear him. He tries to stretch out again and take back as much space as he can, bulges of his paws and horns shifting along the blue stomach. But even in his sleep, S.ans’s gut works hard, and each shove from A.sgore is met with a tight clench in return.

It was a losing battle. A.sgore had no room to move, no way out, and was simply stuck resisting for as long as he could. But S.ans’s stomach might just be the hardest working part of himself, and it never relents. Every time A.sgore tries to fight back, it feels like the stomach is just getting stronger against him. He’s too hot, he realizes. His fur feels like a smothering blanket and his armor is cooking him. He’s digesting.

A.sgore’s energy is rapidly waning after barely an hour, his screams hoarse and weak and his struggles much more meek and pathetic. He’s left panting and gasping more of the time, the air inside of S.ans’s gut unpleasant and the tight space making it hard to take a proper breath. He’s curled up into a very tight ball, head between his knees, and the walls are too tight to get out of that position. His entire body is burning with exhaustion and discomfort. And worse yet...at this point, he’s certain he’s seen a lot of his fur sticking to his own clothes and the walls around him. It’s definitely been thick on S.ans’s breath every time the skeleton lets out a nasty belch above him.

A deep, bubbling groan rumbles out of S.ans’s gut all around A.sgore. The sounds are incredibly loud and thick. At this point, even if he tried to yell, he doubts he’d be heard well above it all. The walls squeeze him again with a wet squelch. A.sgore winces and closes his eyes tightly. He doesn’t have the energy to keep up anymore. Is this really how it ends for him..?

As if sensing A.sgore’s defeat, S.ans’s gut suddenly clenches in hard. It gets a shocked scream from the king as a wet crunching and crackling sound bubbles up. His body is falling apart on him after becoming so weak, and the skeleton’s gut is eager to crack through the armor and claim its prize. Although it’s the goat’s body that’s cracking right now...

Another clench, followed by a wet squelch and a weak groan from A.sgore. The king is getting hazy in there, and the shocks of pain he’s getting from the rougher treatment cuts into numbness soon after. His arm was the first to go. Now he can’t feel his legs. There’s a thick, bubbling slop churning and squelching all around him, coming up to his stomach and surging higher with every clench. It’s full of white fur and, though he has a hard time telling, at least one piece of armor that should still be attached to him but no longer is.

The walls squeeze down again, A.sgore crying out weakly as he feels his back pop and his good arm twist. He can’t feel below the elbow now. The sludge is up to his chest and he can feel it seeping through the cracks of his armor, coating his body. The king pants and shudders, trying and failing to make any part of himself respond and move. He knows what’s wrong but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“HWWWWWWWWOOOOOOUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPP!!!!!!!” A sloppy belch roars out of S.ans, who seems to still be sleeping. It makes the stomach clamp down hard on A.sgore, his yell muffled by the slurry surging up and over his face for a few seconds. He’s instead coughing and sputtering. His head feels lopsided now. He thinks one of his horns snapped off.

“S...S.ans...” A.sgore gasps out weakly. “P-Please...let me...out...” He’s not sure if the skeleton can hear him. It doesn’t matter. He’s too weak to try anything else beyond pleading for his life. “I...I don’t...want to...d--Glllrbbb!” A.sgore’s final words are cut off by a hard shove on the top of his head that plunges him under the boiling mire he’s been stewing in.

Only the top of his head and his remaining horn stick out, bubbles rising and popping a bit faster for a few moments. Then A.sgore’s body shudders a few times and the bubbling slows down again until, finally, going back to normal. S.ans sighs contently and lifts his hand from his stomach, watching it slosh and wobble back into the orb shape its taken. “Figured you’d be gone by the time I woke up but guess I was wrong. Least I got to say good--BUUUUURRRP!” A short, bubbling belch catches S.ans by surprise, A.sgore’s last breath passing him teeth.

His stomach clenches down for the last time, now filled top to bottom with nothing but boiling sludge. His semi-transparent stomach has taken on a very murky color because of it, the occasional bone or piece of armor being visible when it presses up against the stomach walls before the churning slop sucks it back in. Whatever solid bits of A.sgore remain won’t be like that for long now.

The sounds of S.ans’s stomach echo through the throne room, heavy and wet with how sloppy the contents have gotten. S.ans’s stomach is still massive with all the goat slop inside, and the bottom of it is bulging heavily with various bones and armor pieces weighing it down. It only took a couple of hours max to reduce one of the strongest monsters in the Underground into nothing but a thick nutrient slurry. And now that A.sgore is in a much more manageable state, he can start chugging deeper.

A pleased groan rumbles out of S.ans, who tips his head back a bit and presses his hands down into his stomach. It squishes under his fingers, sloshing and wobbling at every little disturbance. This was just what he needed, something big and filling and delicious to eat. Not that he doesn’t love his brother’s cooking or going to Grillby’s all the time...but even S.ans can only take so much. His stomach sounds just as happy as he does as it pumps gallons of A.sgore slop deeper into his intestines.

S.ans’s stomach shrinks back several inches intermittently as more of A.sgore pumps through him. He can practically feel the swell of his intestines as it takes on all of that slurry. And as it pumps deeper, the muck grows denser and more compact, and S.ans begins to get thick from all the compounding weight. His stomach grows softer and heavier, sagging with new heft, and his chest gets softer and bigger. His arms and thighs grow thicker and wider, filling out his normally baggy clothes more. And his ass is growing much rounder, filling out the throne more properly as it does.

The thick chugging sounds steadily get softer and quieter after some time. S.ans’s gut stopped shrinking a little bit ago, and he can feel the last of A.sgore draining through his intestines. His shirt is definitely too small now, stretched tight over his torso and riding halfway up his gut, constantly showing off the blue magic. He gives the sides of his stomach a few soft rubs then pats it, making the whole thing wobble.

A deep, low grumble rises out of S.ans’s stomach and he winces slightly. A very heavy pressure has built up inside of him and it’s getting uncomfortable. “Alright, can’t deny the king what he wants. I’ll letcha out now.” S.ans grunts as he gets up, feeling all of the new weight on his frame. But it’s a different weight that’s distracting him. He pulls down on his shorts, having to wiggle his hips to get the now tight waistband down. His much fatter ass wobbles as it gets freed and he squats down in front of the throne.

A bassy fart rumbles out of S.ans, making him wave the air away. “Y’know, that sound is supposed to happen after I sit down.” Instead of laughter or applause for his joke, S.ans’s guts grumble loudly. He feels a heavy weight shift deep inside of him and being to spread him out.

S.ans shudders and groans as a thick, dense log of shit begins to squeeze out of him. All that king meat packed up real tight, especially thanks to all that tough armor he had been wearing. Though…it’s not nearly as shining anymore. One of his arm braces comes out in the first log, browned and muddy in sheen with the shot baked around it. One of A.sgore’s arms is still in the brace and bits of white fur pepper around the muck as well.

The log lands with a soft thud on the throne, the air becoming rancid now. S.ans huffs softly and closes his eyes as he strains over another thick log. A.sgore steadily squeezes out of him like that, his armor pieces keeping a good portion of his body together and in each log.

One of his legs comes out, twice as long as the arm. It’s followed by the other leg and the pelvis soon after. Next comes half his other arm, the ruined cape tattered and stained as it’s wrapped around the log and caught on a broken horn.

The throne is already filled up with shit, the logs heaped on top of each other to take up the seat. S.ans groans loudly as another big log stretches him out, A.sgore’s chest plate coming out with his ribs and upper half of an arm buried in it. His stomach was especially unkind to this piece, the chest play center and warped from the crushing stomach walls. But it’s still big enough to make S.ans have to work to force it out.

A few splats come from behind S.ans as the throne gets overflowed and crap spills out onto the floor. He just widens his legs slightly so he doesn’t step in it. He feels something else big and bulky pushing lower and, soon, spreading him out.

A.sgore’s skull comes free, jaws open wide, only sporting one horn. S.ans struggles a bit with it, wincing as shit pushes through the goat’s jaws and eye sockets. It’s a morbid fight for no one, since S.ans can’t exactly see it. All he feels is the flow get a little more difficult and the skull slowly pushing along until…POP! SPLLT!

S.ans sighs deeply, tongue lolling out as he feels the skull finally come free. It lands in the muck with a wet sound, some more fur-speckled shit coiling up on its head before S.ans finally feels well and truly empty.he stands up again, struggling slightly with his shorts as he looks back at the mess.

The shit pile is massive, definitely bigger than S.ans. He’s buried a good portion of the throne in shit, the pile spilling over the front and down between his legs just barely. Armor and bones poke out here or there, with the goat’s skull sitting near the bottom after dropping out of S.ans. The smell is awful, overpowering the normal sweet scent caused by the flower fields.

“Welp.” S.ans grunts and pulls hard, getting his shorts over his fatter ass. He’ll have to get bigger clothes…eventually. Maybe. “Thanks for lunch, Your Majesty. I’d say we should do this again some time but…” He trails off, as if waiting for a response. When the punchline doesn’t come, he shrugs. “Least you got to keep the throne, eh? I’ll see ya later.” He waves to the pile and walks off, planning to take a shortcut out so he doesn’t bump into anyone. He’s got a lot more napping to do now.

UT!A.sgore D.reemurr: I guess he gets two descriptions since he's very different in both canons. UT!A.sgore I think gets lots of willing prey, mostly guards or other citizens that wish to show their immense love for their king by being his lunch--this flusters him too much to ever deny. He also really enjoys humans--in a post-pacifist scenario, this is usually a guilty pleasure or something he likes to keep private because it's a bit embarrassing. While I don't think he's strictly willing prey under normal circumstances, he will usually gives up/accept his fate after a point--either by getting defeated in battle or realizing he can't get free from his predator's gut. I also like to think he's someone that lots of people wanna eat but won't usually go for and he's too oblivious to really notice.

DR!A.sgore D.reemurr: Himbo DILF. Feels like that's self-explanatory. Tends to do lots of accidental/unaware vore/digestion, misunderstandings that end with his belly full, or 'eat a guy' is just the first thing that comes to mind when he needs a solution to a problem and he just rolls with it. I also like to think this version of Asgore really likes to eat college-aged guys and that's the thing he's kinda flustered by given his college-aged son. Similar to UTA.sgore, I think lots of people wanna eat him and he's too oblivious to notice it. Difference here being that he's not a king and people will be less likely to hold off, and he leans a lot more into the unwilling prey side of things. But since he's not a powerful boss monster he's also a lot easier to take down if someone tries. Though he can also be convinced into being food if someone finds the right logic.

A.sriel D.reemurr: Look, A.sriel's a giant dork, this guy's going to get teased and flustered more than anything. He can absolutely eat people--enough booze or social peer pressure can generally convince him to do a lot. He wants to be a cool frat guy at college so he'll do really stupid and poorly-thought-out things to achieve those goals. I also like the idea of him being a roommate grinder though, burns through them like crazy cause he can't help himself. But he's also just easy prey--he's kinda scrawny, easily flustered and tricked, and overall not difficult to get down. Definitely unwilling prey most of the time but results may vary. But more than that I think he just gets teased a lot by the other predators in his life because he's just that easy to mess with. And who could resist doing that?

S.ans: You would think a guy this lazy wouldn't be much of a predator...well, I don't care about that. He finds his ways to get his meals. Blue magic is pretty useful for quickly throwing someone into his maw by only lifting a finger. Or even less work--he just opens his jaws up wide and has some nearby meals do all the work for him. Somehow this keeps him well-fed. And I honestly like to write him with a meaner streak--just very casual in his regard of other people as food and making jokes about their plight without much care. As for being prey...well, trying to fight back is a loooot of work, so he tends to just not do that. This makes him an easy meal but who would want to eat a bunch of bones for lunch? Probably more people than Sans really anticipated. Ah well.

P.apyrus: Also very big on unaware/accidental vore/digestion. Like, if someone ends up digesting while he's trying to detain them or some training goes wrong or he misunderstands someone's question as offering to be lunch...no real harm done, right? After all, people should be excited to be a nice meal for the Great P.apyrus! Of course, if he can also justify the logic to himself as being for the greater good, that works, too. As for being prey, it's definitely an escalation of panic. P.apyrus is fairly confident that he either won't be harmed or will get out and the longer he lasts the harder it gets to keep believing that. Though, by the time he actually does attempt to get out...it'd be a little too late.

G.rillby: He's not a very expressive person so people tend to mistake that as "not a danger". And to well-paying customers (and Sans, I guess) this is generally true. But rowdy, unpaying, or rude customers tend to find very quickly that G.rillby is not a pushover and has a very low tolerance for these things. Of course, with his gut often obscured behind the bar, it's still easy for people to miss this even if he's currently processing a customer. Staying after closing is another no-go and it's not uncommon for him to be cleaning up the bar while some knocked-out drunkards are sloshing around as an easy dinner. Of course, being the guy in charge of the place, Grillby is rarely prepared for someone to try and turn him into bar food so he's easy to catch off guard. Especially if he's being dragged over the bar. He might give some indigestion or heartburn, especially if he's squirming, but he's a very warm and soothing meal as well. So it's worth it.

R.G01 & R.G02: They get to be put together because they do everything together and share a braincell. Very often they're in situations where one eats and the other is tending to their gut. Sure, they might get meals together sometimes, but once one of them has a full gut the other one loses the braincell they share and can only focus on belly rubs. This works out for them though. They're probably not very good influences on each other, either, since they also wanna show off to the other. It makes them good guards, if indiscriminately eating people makes you a good guard. If one of them gets eaten, though, the other is almost certainly going to follow. Mostly in some romantic attempt to free them that just ends with both guards stuck in their predator's gut. They're honestly much easier to handle together even if it's twice the meat since they won't be thrashing nearly as hard. Two for one deal!

S.watch: He's very prim and proper so he does make an honest effort not to eat out in the open. Though he does snack on S.watchlings that make mistakes or customers who ask him for certain 'services'. He might also just eat someone really quickly for his lunchbreak if that's more efficient. But he does try not to have a full stomach while working since it's not very polite...so it keeps him very flustered if it does happen. Now, he'll be very displeased at the idea of being eaten--it's rather gross and unbecoming--but he's also not going to make a huge fuss over it...if it can be helped. Customers or other people who ask politely can generally get him down with little complaint, though he may become more upset over time. People who get him by surprise or while he's working are going to get a very fussy butler, but that doesn't mean he won't go down smoothly.

S.watchlings: For a bunch of big, buff butlers they're kinda...doofuses. Pretty easy to tell why S.watch is in charge. S.watchlings eating one another for whatever reason is a fairly common occurrence, so seeing a few butlers walking around with full guts is expected. Does this get in the way of their work? Yes, constantly. Gives more excuses for eating each other. This means they're also very good as prey, given their training, and most anyone can eat them without too much issue. It does make worker retention a bit difficult but nothing that S.watch can't handle.

R.udy Holiday: Sick old man lying in bed all the time...he still manages to eat people with the benefit that no one ever sees it coming. Visitors and hospital staff likely disappear with him a lot but, hey, he needs to eat a lot so he can get better, right? The exchange rate of his own health vs. all the people he eats might not be the most evenly weighted but that's not a problem, is it? He also likes to crack jokes too often and they're about as bad and mean-spirited as the other comedian in the cast's. Though, the thing that makes him a predator no one suspects also makes him a rather easy meal. Sure, that might be a little cruel, eating a sick guy at the hospital--but it's gotta be better than what they serve in the cafeteria, right? R.udy might even suggest it to someone that's particularly close to him himself.

S.tarlo: Being a sheriff can be dirty work, but someone's gotta do it. That tends to imply detaining criminals in his stomach or the injured for transport or to just kick some people that had too much to drink out of the local watering hole. Is there still someone left to let out by the time he gets to where he's going? Maybe not, but that's just how it is in the Wild East--least, that's what S.tarlo tells himself after another 'accident' occurred. Though, with how popular and beloved he is in town, he might have a few fans that want to take a ride in the sheriff's personal cell...if there's nothing left to let out later that's probably what they wanted, right? S.tarlo has terrible control of his stomach so this is a constant problem with him. He's never really ready for real danger, though, so if someone actually wants to get the sheriff out of the way...they'll find that he goes down a lot easier than expected. Kicking and screaming, sure, but still easy. He's not even that rough on the stomach despite how much he might try. Who appointed this guy as sheriff again?

D.alv: Quiet, socially awkward guy that lives alone means surprise visitors get eaten. It's a strange shock reaction to have but maybe that's why D.alv stays on his own. Either way, he at least has a captive audience to talk to for the foreseeable future. They might not listen to anything he says and keep interrupting him with muffled complaints and moving around but it's better than nothing, isn't it? It's always sad when they eventually have to go but it's also D.alv's favorite part--not that he'd openly admit it. Though he's also an easy meal because of this. Get him by surprise and there's not much he can do. He won't fight back very hard and just try to convince whoever ate him to let him go...it probably won't work but it's the only option he has. And since no one really knows he lives all the way in the ruins, no one's even going to notice if he's gone. Ah well, the price for privacy.

M.o: Money talks and it can get him to do a lot of things. What he will do even without a price is eat someone--a business tycoon like himself needs to stay full and have lots of energy, and this is a very cost-effective way of getting that! Might be able to convince him not to with your wallet but it really depends on how hungry he is. Non-paying customers will always be his go-to, though. A lot of his random schemes and business ideas seem to end with him getting rather full as well, even when it wasn't planned that way. But he can also be convinced to be someone's snack for enough money. Is that money going to be very useful once he's churning down? Maybe not but that's just business, baby!

A.sriel can’t help but blush a bit as he steps out into the gym. This already feels like a really dumb idea. His college had set up some wrestling tournament thing for Halloween, and a bunch of his friends basically peer-pressured him into signing up. He’s pretty sure they just wanna see him get mulched in front of everyone…

On the other side of the large mat that’s been set up, A.sriel sees his opponent. He knows the guy, S.cott Howl, some goofy jock that’s super popular. A.sriel gulps softly. Both of them are completely naked for the sake of the match, and seeing how muscular S.cott’s hairy body is…it makes the much leaner A.sriel feel entirely outclassed. God, he’s going to die here…

The bleachers are packed full on either side with cheering and whistling guys. Faculty, students, and other people who heard about the matches have filled them out. There’s a lot of shamelessness in it—people are recording, pitching tents, even rubbing one out. A.sriel unfortunately finds out that last one by catching sight of his dad. As soon as he saw A.sgore with his cock out, the younger goat looks away. Agh, gross…he’s so embarrassing…

He looks back at S.cott instead, the two of them getting into a starting position. The werewolf has a dumb, toothy grin on his face, his tail wagging behind him. He’s looking at A.sriel like a dog would a bone his owner is teasing him with—it makes the goat shudder slightly. This was such a terrible idea…

The referee blows the whistle. A.sriel freezes for a second and S.cott launches like a bullet. The two men crash together, A.sriel letting out a bleat as he’s suddenly toppled to the floor. The crowds are cheering and shouting now, already getting excited. And A.sriel feels completely out of his element here. The last thing he wants is to go out so quickly, though. Even if he does get eaten, he’d rather have put up a fight instead of being taken out right at the start.

S.cott’s jaws open wide in A.sriel’s face, sharp teeth exposing his drooling gullet. Hot breath pants in the goat’s face. A.sriel plants his hands squarely on S.cott’s shoulders and pushes hard, shoving the werewolf to the side and trying to roll on top of him. It works for about a second before a foot plants itself on A.sriel’s gut and he’s kicked off and thrown onto his back again.

S.cott rolls back onto all fours, his tail wagging like crazy and drool dripping from his toothy grin. He pounces and A.sriel rolls to the side, just barely dodging the werewolf. He’s still trying to catch his breath, his heart beating in his ears while the crowds cheer around him. He swears they’re yelling his name, cheering him on. It gives him the boost to go on the offense.

A.sriel lunges at S.cott this time, grappling onto the werewolf from behind and putting his arm around the other’s neck. It makes S.cott lurch up to his knees and pull on A.sriel’s arm. The goat puts his other arm around S.cott’s neck as well, trying to keep the chokehold long enough to earn his victory. Grasping hands yank on his arms, then go up and smack his face a bit. A.sriel lowers his head to get them to stop…and he feels them grab onto his horns instead. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit--”

S.cott pulls hard and ducks down again, making A.sriel bleat as he’s thrown over the werewolf’s back. A.sriel slams onto his back with a gasp, his breath knocked out of him. He coughs and gasps, putting a hand to his chest with a wince. Okay, yeah, that hurts. He’s not sure he can get back to it after that. A dark shadow looms over him and he looks up to see S.cott’s grinning face. “Nice try, bro! That was great!”

A.sriel coughs a bit. “Th...Thanks..?” Wait...no, that’s not a good thing! A.sriel tries to get up despite how it makes his chest tighten with pain. But S.cott moves so the goat’s muzzle ends up pressing into his hairy pecs. The panting goat ends up huffing on werewolf musk a bit and...his eyes start to glaze over. A hand on the back of his head stops him from dropping to the ground again and he’s left rather relaxed despite knowing he should panic right now. He does let out a little whine when S.cott pushes on his head and forces his muzzle deeper into his pecs.

A.sriel offers very little resistance. The cheering crowd fades into the background for him, and once his entire head is shoved into S.cott’s chest, all he can hear is the werewolf’s thumping heart and deep breaths. He twitches a bit, paws coming up to offer meager resistance by pushing slightly on S.cott’s chest. But the werewolf just shoves them into his pecs next and starts to drag A.sriel deeper with each flex he gives. He has a big, dumb grin on his face and his tail is wagging a mile a minute. He’s loving all of the praise from the crowd while the--admittedly kinda cute--goat guy sinks deeper and deeper into him. After only a minute or so, he’s back on his feet, a pair of lightly kicking paws sinking into his chest as he throws his head back and howls.

With a few dull pats to his gut, S.ans leans back in his chair and belches deeply. He sighs out and slowly rubs over his gut instead. His shirt is riding up on it, exposing a blue stomach that bulges and sloshes around. A human is squirming inside, muffled cries coming out.

“What’s wrong?” S.ans asks his gut with his usual lazy smile. “You said you wanted to see under my shirt, right?” S.ans belches a second time and slurps over his teeth. “Aaah…well, I’d say you’re getting a great look.”

While doing his usual job (sleeping on it), S.ans had been woken up by a chatty human. He didn’t mind much, but the topic strayed to his body, and his pudgy belly. The human kept insisting to see under the shirt since S.ans is a skeleton. He hasn’t been very appreciative of all that so he’s told the human to come around to the otherside of the guard station and…well…

S.ans’s gut gurgles deeply, rumbling a bit as it squeezes over the human inside. Monsters are typically weaker compared to humans, but getting one packed away is all but a guarantee of defeating them. Even a monster like S.ans can do that. He keeps rubbing over his gut, starting to push down on the bulges being created by his writhing meal.

“You’re pretty feisty. I’d almost think you weren’t enjoying this.” S.ans stares down at his gut, listening to the human’s muffled yells. He can’t make out what the man is making. He shrugs and gives his gut a hard smack, making it slosh. “Oh well. If you didn’t want to be food, you wouldn’t have fit into my gut so easily. Not my fault you’re that pathetic.”

The human lets out another cry, stretching out S.ans’s gut as he tries to push his way out. The skeleton simply presses back with a lazy “Mmmf…” and closes his eyes. It was always so effortless for him. Once someone went down the hatch, he just…had to sit back and relax and do nothing. His favorite thing to do. Which means eating live meals was his favorite thing to eat.

S.ans’s gut continues to work hard and loud, the human inside losing his energy. His wiggles grow less intense and he can’t yell. S.ans’s hand keeps slowly rubbing along his gut, feeling it work. He presses a hand down into his gut and he feels it sink in, the human letting out a gurgly cry as someone breaks apart. S.ans shudders slightly as he feels it happen and huffs out. “Oh…getting soft on me already? It’s only been an hour. I didn’t think you would just fall apart so fast.”

The human lets out a gurgly scream in distress, going back to his weak thrashing. It makes S.ans’s gut slosh thickly back and forth. He puts his hands on either side of it and presses down, benching deeply into the air the human shudders inside and goes still other than some weak twitching and whimpers.

S.ans opens his eyes when he hears footsteps approaching and sees Papyrus coming his wave. Naturally, his brother is unhappy seeing S.ans lazing around in the clock. “Don’t worry so much, Paps,” S.ans reassures. He can feel the human perk up slightly in his stomach and try to yell. “I’m processing some work right now.” He presses down on his stomach again. A long, low belch rumbles out of him. Papyrus groans and turns away, quickly walking off. He misses the sneaker that splats onto the table before S.ans.

A.sgore kneels down before the human, head down and eyes closed. He’s on his last legs now and he knows that there’s nothing else to do. The man before him has won. But maybe that’s for the best. This can be his repentance.

“Please, take me and leave the underground,” the king says. “I’ll give you my soul...as my apology for all that I’ve done.” That’s all he can do anymore. The human doesn’t say anything, but A.sgore stays like that regardless. His ears twitch slightly as he hears the man approaching. He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. Is...the human showing him mercy? “Human--” He looks up...and finds himself staring into the back of the human’s jaws.

A.sgore’s muzzle is engulfed, a muffled sound escaping him. He locks eyes with the human and sees hunger. A hand pushes down on the back of his head, and everything goes dark as the human gulps and drags his head down. He’s too weak to resist at all, and even with his bulky armor on, the human continues to swallow and start dragging in his bulky shoulder and chest.

Each swallow drags A.sgore down deeper and deeper, slowly pulling his hulking form down the hatch. His legs kick around a bit as they’re lifted off the ground, but the human’s hands grip onto them to help shovel A.sgore deeper. He’s already in up to his waist, then a gulp drags his ass down, and the human begins to slurp his legs up.

And all the while, the human’s stomach is bulging out more and more. It’s stretching tightly over A.sgore’s form, shoving off the bulges of his horns and the curvature of his royal armor. Muffled yells come from the human’s gut, the shape of A.sgore’s muzzle moving around as he tries to yell. But he’s just sinking in more, his legs being dragged down...until his twitching feet are finally slurped past the human’s lips and sent down the hatch.

A.sgore is panting as he’s crammed into the man’s gut. He’s forced into a tight and uncomfortable ball, upside down. The heat is immense as the human’s stomach gurgles and groans around him. After their battle, he’s already feeling incredibly weak. So the human’s stomach has no issue with him at all. A wet, rumbling gurgle rings in A.sgore’s ears as his body simply falls apart on him.

“BWWWWWWWOOOOOUUUUURRRRRPPPPPP!!!!” The human lets out a wet, crass belch as his gut suddenly loses size and shape. It was nearly instantaneous, his gut having rumbled before rounding out. A.sgore’s cape comes back up, landing on the ground with a splat and dripping in slime. The king is already pumping along fast, flushing through the human’s systems and making him groan slightly.

The human drops his pants and squats slightly over the large throne in the middle of the room. A loud rumble comes from his stomach and he pushes, immediately having the king come slopping out the back end in a heap. The most solid thing of the mess is A.sgore’s armor, which lands with thuds and clangs as it piles up on the throne. It’s all mostly buried in soft shit, though, thanks to how quickly he went through the human’s digestive system.

Tufts of fur and bones come out occasionally as well, giving a lot less trouble than the armor was. The human groans and grumbles as he steadily pumps the king out and onto his throne. The chest plate got a real whine from him. It makes the goat’s skull feel like nothing, even when the horns stretch him out awkwardly. It’s one of the last things to come out, landing on the pile with its jaw bone open, A.sgore’s crown sitting inside.

The human sighs deeply once he feels emptied out. He doesn’t bother looking back at the mess or the ruined throne. He picks the cape up off the ground to wipe himself clean with and throws it over the pile as he walks past. At least he can leave now. “Can’t believe he was the best tasting thing down here...” the human grumbles to himself as he leaves.

---

“But Dad!” A.sriel whines, sounding more like a little kid than a college student. A.sgore puts his paw up, though, and shakes his head.

“No buts, Azzy. This is what the customer requested and that’s what we’re going to do.” Even if he was a little nervous of it himself, A.sgore wasn’t going to back down now that it’s been decided. The customer is always right, after all!

The human standing before the goats smiles. He’s clearly a gardener, dressed up in dirty clothes well used. “Thanks so much for this,” he says, clasping his gloved hands together. “Nothing works nearly as well for my garden. This’ll last me for a while.”

“Of course!” A.sgore smiles warmly and nods. He had to respect a fellow garden and their personal tricks. He plants a hand on the small of A.sriel’s back and gently pushes the smaller goat forward. “Why don’t you start with A.sriel? Since he’s nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” A.sriel grumbles. “I’m supposed to be going back to class in a week! Do I have to do this?”

“Azzy.” A.sgore gives his son a stern look, making the younger goat sigh and lower his head with a grumble. He then looks back at the human and smiles. “Sorry about him.”

“It’s alright,” the human says with a chuckle. “I’ll get him settled in quick. At least he won’t have to worry about grades anymore.” The human grabs A.sriel and pulls him in closer. They’re about the same height, so A.sriel gets to look straight forward as the drooling jaws yawn open wide in front of him. He opens his own mouth to say something, but his head is engulfed and wet gulps begin to drag him down.

A.sriel disappears fast, his slim body being slurped down with little issue. The human’s stomach bulges out with a slosh, stretching around the form of the college student. He kicked and wiggled just a bit but ends up curled up tight. The human lets out a soft belch and licks his lips. “Tasty kid you had there. Mind if I see if his dad lives up to that?”

A.sgore blinks and perks up. “Oh? You want me already? Can you handle--”

“Yep!” The human pulls A.sgore in close now. “You monsters go down smooth no matter the size. That’s what makes you such good manure!” His maw opens wide again and he crams A.sgore’s head in next. The long horns make it a bit awkward to fit, but once it does, wet gulps begin to drag A.sgore down as well. He’s bigger and bulkier than his son, but other than taking slightly longer, he goes down just as smoothly.

With a wet slurp, A.sgore’s kicking paws disappear past the human’s lips. His gut is massive now, nearly resting on the ground as the dad is crammed in alongside his son. The human belches deeply, rubbing over the top of his gut. It’s stretched tight over the two and they’re shifting around in the cramped space. He can see paws and legs and muzzles and horns bulging out all over. “Aaaah...perfect! Now for the hard part...” The human smacks his gut gently as thick gurgling sounds begin to rumble out of his gut.

Over a few hours, the human’s stomach gets louder and more active. The two goats thrash a bit more from it, but other than some white-furred belches, it doesn’t do much. His gut steadily shrinks down over time, bulges sinking inward and smoothing out. He can feel the two monsters breaking down more and more, and pressing into his gut every so often lets him feel how soft they are. A.sriel goes quiet about halfway through, smooshed under his dad. A.sgore lasts a good while longer, even when the human’s gut is too round to make out any features. But he goes out with a good belch at the end.

Then the human just has to do the final act. Using some of the fertilizer bags around, the human squats down and pushes with a grunt. Thick, soft shit starts to coil out of him quickly. Bits of white fur and leftover bones can be made out in the muck, but otherwise it’s a dark brown mass of waste. It doesn’t give the human much trouble. A.sriel is fairly smooth, filling up two bags on his own. The human doesn’t even notice his skull in the last one as its tied off.

A.sgore is a bit more...everything. Nearly double the amount of waste, and a lot thicker on its way out. It takes more effort for the human to pass him. The skull is the part that he grunts with the most as those horns give him a bit of trouble. But it comes out as well and gets mostly buried under a few more logs, just the tips of the horns poking out as the bag is tied off.

The six bags are packed up in the human’s car outside and he makes sure to flip the sign on the shop to ‘Closed’. No one’s going to be running this shop anymore, after all. The goats are relocating to a much more private garden from now on.

---

A.sriel hiccups, his mind a buzz now that he’s several drinks deep. He’s finally old enough to go drinking, and some of his friends from college took him out to a local bar to celebrate. He’s since lost track of them but he’s not too bothered. The goat has cozied up with an apparent regular, a large, older human. He’s the one who’s been helpfully supplying drinks to the goat this evening.

When the offer to ‘go have some fun’ is made, along with a good squeeze on A.sriel’s ass, he’s more than eager to play along. He wobbles along after the human, disappearing into the bar’s bathroom. The older man drops his pants and sits on a toilet. With some guidance, A.sriel straddles the man’s hips with a drunken giggle. He puts his arms around the human’s shoulders and leans in for a kiss.

What he’s greeted with is an open, drooling maw. A.sriel doesn’t register this very well as he ends up planting his nose into the human’s maw with a surprise bleat. A hand shoves on the back of his head, wedging him in deeper, forcing his face into the man’s gullet. A.sriel wriggles around a bit in confusion, trying to figure out why things are getting slimier and darker, all while heavy gulps echo in his ears.

The human tips his head back as he gets to the goat’s perky ass. He swallows it up with a wet gulp and then slurps down his kicking legs. He never can get enough of college boys, and the ones like this goat are always his favorite. Easy prey. His gut bulges out a bit in his lap as he feels A.sriel sink inside and he lets out a crass belch, a bit of white fur fluttering on his breath.

The human’s gut groans wetly as A.sriel settles inside. The poor goat is so wasted, he barely knows what’s happening. He tries to move around but the walls keep squeezing and clenching him back into place. The steady gurgling is somewhat relaxing, though. He starts to go still, not even stirring as the muffled sound of the bar comes back through the stomach walls.

The human burps into his fist as he returns to his seat to get another drink. He feels like washing the cute goat down with something good. His guts are already starting to gurgle heavily, working on the meat inside. After a couple of hours, it’s already gotten a lot softer. The human ends up just missing some other college guys trying to find their friend as he returns to the bathroom.

Planting himself on the toilet he’d eaten the goat in, the human grunts and pushes. There’s a trumpeting fart that sounds out in the bowl before thick, soft shit starts sliding out. A.sriel melted down easily in the man’s take, completely overtaken by the older and stronger human. Other than some bones and tufts of soiled white fur, there’s little of him left.

M.onty steps into the arena with a smug grin. He heard his latest meal--because opponent is too kind a word for the fodder he burns through--was going to be some big softie. Gets called “Fluffybuns” by lots of people. Ha! No way someone like that would stand a chance against a guy like M.onty. It’ll be a cinch.

M.onty perks up when he notices said meal coming along. He slurps over his lips with a grin, tail swishing. This'll be easy and fast. In fact, he’ll end this in just one lunge. The second that guy is in bounds, he’s going to fill his gut like he deserves.

--U.ndertale!A.sgore--

A large goat steps into the arena, standing tall and strong. He’s dressed in shining armor, a purple cape fluttering behind him. M.onty doesn’t take much longer to take the sight in before he lunges with a roar. If he had paid attention, he’d have noticed the red trident the goat is wielding before it swung to hit him in the face.

It sends the gator spinning off to the side and crashing to the ground. He’s dazed, blinking rapidly as he tries to pick himself up. His sunglasses are sitting in front of him, cracked. He picks them up and gets back to his feet, putting them on his face in time to turn with a growl and face his meal again.

Only for the sound to die in his throat as he finds himself staring down a drooling, dark maw. “Wait—!” M.onty’s cry is cut off by the snap of jaws as A.sgore engulfs his head in an instant.

M.onty plants his hands on A.sgore’s shoulders, trying to push himself away from the goat. He’s certain he can get out! But A.sgore puts an end to that fast. He grabs M.onty by the waist and quickly hoists the gator up into the air. It gets a muffled yelp from M.onty, whose legs begin to cartwheel wildly. His pushing doesn’t do much to help him now, though, as A.sgore begins to slurp him down.

The whole process is fast and messy. Wet, hard gulps sound out one after another, dragging M.onty’s bulky form down the hatch. His shoulders and chest disappear fast, followed by his stomach which pins his arms down. Then those cartwheeling legs and thrashing tail and being chugged down. And the wagging tip of his tail disappears with a wet slurp behind A.sgore’s lips, the bulge finally sinking down his throat and disappearing.

A.sgore’s armor groans as M.onty is squeezed in behind it. The metal bulges and bloats but holds firm. It makes for an entirely unpleasant experience for M.onty, whose body ends up awkwardly crammed into the tight and oppressive space. He barely has room to move, but with how he’s twisted up into a little ball, he can’t do much of that anyway. His loud, roaring voice barely makes it to A.sgore’s ears past the fat and muscle and armor as well. Anyone looking at the king would hardly notice the gator’s presence.

And then A.sgore flexes his stomach. “BBWWWWWWOOOOOOUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPPP!!!!”

The booming belch he let loose helped to muffled the loud screech M.onty let out in his gut, and the second loud screech made by his metal body folding in on itself and crumpling like a tin can. A.sgore’s stomach notably shrinks back down to its normal size before the belch even ends. And the only thing he has to show for it is a pair of cracked, warped sunglasses that flies out of his maw in the last few seconds.

After it ends, A.sgore licks his lips and pats his stomach. That was one of his easiest matches yet. He knows most people underestimate him but as the king of monsters, he’s no pushover. He steps forward to gently pick up the glasses he belched out. It’ll make a nice addition to the little memorial he has for those he’s defeated. He didn’t have much else to pick from, given the rest of M.onty is a molten sludge pumping through his intestines.

A.sgore gives a bow despite no physical audience being around and walks off the way he came. All that metal was a bit hard on his stomach. Some tea should wash it down just fine.

D.eltarune!A.sgore

A large goat walks in, trying to muster up all the courage he can but still having a meek smile. He doesn’t look like much, dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink Hawaiian shirt. He hardly even looks like a fighter. “Fluffybuns” is right…and M.onty is going to spare no mercy.

The gator lunges the second his prey has entered the arena. A.sgore gets out a shocked cry as he’s suddenly staring down a giant, toothy maw flying toward him. M.onty barrels into him and the two quickly go crashing to the ground in a heap.

By the time things settle, M.onty is able to sit up. A.sgore’s ass is being framed by his jaws, thick legs kicking and scrambling wildly. He’s half down the gator’s gullet, screaming face bulging out the scaly gut.

M.onty flicks his head back, sending A.sgore’s kicking legs up into the air and further down his gullet. Another flick of his head and A.sgore’s knee deep. One more flick lets his feet slide past M.onty’s teeth, and with a resounding snap, the gator’s maw slams shut. A final gulp seals the last of A.sgore away, and M.onty’s stomach stretches out into his lap as the goat sinks in.

M.onty gets back to his feet, calling and smacking his gut. It wobbles and sloshes, stretched tight over A.sgore’s form. It makes it easy to see the shape of the goat curled up inside, panic on his face as his paws scramble over the stomach walls and he tries to thrash. The shifting bulges only entertain M.onty more, though, as he starts to pose and show off to the unseen audience.

A.sgore’s muffled screaming and desperate pleas were plenty entertaining to M.onty, but he knew this couldn’t drag on for too long. So he finally widens his stance and tenses his body. Then he gives his entire body a good flex.

For a moment, all it seems to do is make A.sgore stop moving. The walls close in around him more, compacting him into a tightly curled up ball. But his screaming is getting more frantic now. The walls are still trying to close in, and his body is the only resistance to it. The pressure won’t let up though and he can feel the strain it’s making. A few more seconds and—

CRRRRNCH! “HHHWWWWWWWHHHRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!” M.onty belts out a roaring belch as A.sgore’s body folds in on itself. The goat’s screaming is cut off by the wet, sharp crunching noises of his body being compacted under the strain of the pressure. The gator’s stomach quickly rounds out and shrinks down, reducing the goat into nothing but rich slurry in a matter of seconds. His belch lasted long than A.sgore did.

By the time it’s done, all that’s left is a soft pot belly that’s bubbling and boiling intensely. M.onty thumps his chest a few times and slurps over his lips with a grin. Just as he thought—that was nothing more than another meal.

A.sgore hiccups and groans softly, rubbing over his gut. He’s got it resting inside of a wheelbarrow in a vain attempt of keeping it settled down. It’s not going great.

His fuzzy white belly keeps sloshing and bulging around. The goat has really gone and done it now. He doesn’t have the belly he did in his youth, and that’s really starting to show. He’s absolutely stuffed himself on…ten? Eleven? Some number of humans. He just couldn’t help himself…they were so tasty looking…

A.sgore’s self control around humans was his downfall. Once he had one, he had to have more. And they just kept coming, lured in by the friendly smile of the big, fluffy goat. His big belly kept just out of sight, so it doesn’t let them see what’s going on until he was lifting them up into his drooling jaws.

A.sgore belches sickly into his paw and groans again, trying to soothe his belly by rubbing into it with the other. All those humans didn’t seem to appreciate becoming monster goat food. The first few stopped moving a while ago, though, but these others ones…urgh…

A.sgore ends up using the wheelbarrow to waddle himself along. He steps away from his garden, the very thing that lured his tasty snacks to him. Once he’s at the shed, he hears it out and waddles inside. The goat flops down, collapsing against large burlap sacks. His massive gut sloshes thickly and settles in his lap. A deep, wet belch rumbles out of him…and A.sgore passes out.

Early morning sun leaks in through the small window in the shed, stirring A.sgore from his hard sleep. His gut is groaning and rumbling deeply, much smaller now. It took all night but it seems like his body did handle all those humans in the end. He gets himself up, sleepily dropping his pants and puts his thick, fuzzy cheeks on the edge of the wheelbarrow outside.

With some grunts and lazy pushes, thick shit slithers out from between his cheeks. The stinking mass heaps up on the wheelbarrow, piling up higher as it does. Bones are baked into it, easily identifiable as human. A.sgore will finish up and move the now heavy wheelbarrow out of sight. He waddles off to get the shovel he left in the garden to clean up.

He sees a human as he does. He stops and his belly growls out deeply. The goat slurps over his lips and walks over. He never does learn his lesson.

---

A low groan escapes A.sriel as he starts to blink awake again. His head is buzzing slightly and he feels like a truck hit him. He rubs over his face slowly and tries to move. He tries to move and finds it…difficult. There’s a heavy weight in his middle holding him down.

“…Aw man…” A.sriel grumbles as he sees himself. His white, fluffy gut is stretched out tight. The room around him is an absolute mess. He’s trying to piece together what happened last night. He can see cans of beer sitting around, and he’s in a living room. He crashed on the couch and the TV in front of him has some video game on.

A.sriel's gut gurgles deeply and a belch escapes him. Something solid comes up and hits his gut, bouncing off and flying away. He gets to see it for a second—it’s a game controller, slightly ruined from belly acids.

A.sriel sighs deeply and slowly starts to rub over his gut, feeling it gurgle deeply. Right…video game competition with some of the frat bros he’s been getting along with. A bit too much beer, a bit too much dumb college student stuff, and A.sriel managed to win. His prize is half solid slop on his gut sluicing through him still. He can’t recall how many people he ate or even who they were, but his belly seems too big and full for just three. Must have been other guys around…

With another raunchy belch, Astiel wiggles a bit until he can get his hands on a stray controller. His hangover is annoying and not helped much by the video game, but he’s not going anywhere right now. Even half digested, all that meat is pinning him down well. So he gets to play the game alone while his gut continues to handle last night’s winnings.

A few hours later, A.sriel’s head is clear again and his gut much smaller. He’s leaning forward on the couch, totally focused on the game. A couple of the frat bros have come by, so he at least knows he didn’t mulch all of them! But while he’s playing more casually with some, his belly reminds him of the rest.

A bassy fart makes him blush like crazy and grosses the guys out. He’s quick to put the game on pause and get to his feet. He runs off, making it just outside where he can drop his pants and unload.

About six frat guys squeeze out of A.sriel’s plumper ass. The goat groans and strains as he forces the massive logs out of him. He definitely ate some bigger ones. Now he’s paying the price for it. It takes him nearly fifteen minutes to shit out the last of his frat brothers and he’s panting by the end. He doesn’t pay them much mind other than putting a hand over his nose as he heads back inside.

There’ll be fresh cans of beer around the others as they continue to play. A few too many can might recreate last night’s incident…

---

A.sriel watches with wide eyes as a pair of kicking legs sinks into his father’s chest with a final flex. That was…pretty intense. His dad had just gotten home to find A.sriel had thrown a party, and naturally, put an end to it himself.

The big goat lets out a content sigh as he reaches up to massage his pecs. His best is bulging out heavily, resting on top of his gut with is even wider. Both of his arms have the shapes of people moving inside as well. The older goat had utterly stuffed himself on all of A.sriel’s college friends. He didn’t want to get too indecent in front of his son, though, so they mostly went into his maw, pecs, and pits. “Golly…haven’t eaten this much college meat since I was in college myself!”

“D-Dad, that was like…twenty people,” A.sriel says, dumbfounded. He’s eaten a few guys himself since going to college but never that many all at once!

A.sgore blushes a bit, bashful embarrassment from his son marveling over his predatory prowess on the older man’s face. “Oh, I’ve done far more than twenty in my time! Why, I remember once when…” A.sgore trails off and shakes his head. “No, wait, I’m trying to be bad cop parent right now! You’re still in trouble, young man!”

A.sriel sighs and his shoulders slump a bit. “Aw, Dad, c’mon. You’re already killing most of my frat. Isn’t that punishment enough?” He pouts like an annoyed young adult would, despite the seriousness of what he said. The muffled shouts from A.sgore’s stuffed body, as well as the wet bubbling of his tank and the cracks coming from his muscles barely make A.sriel flinch.

“Hm…well, I guess that’s true.” A.sgore pats his gut a few times and lets out a wet belch. All that college meat’s put him in a good mood again, too. So he smiles and puts an arm around A.sriel, which comes with a wet crunching sound and a slight increase of the goat’s muscle. “How about we settle down for a movie then, huh? Let me process your friends.”

A.sriel lets out a huff and glances at his father’s working gut and flexing chest. It’s totally lame that all of his friends are going to be nothing but muscle mass and gut fat in his dad…but he did think it was pretty cool how quickly and easily the old man took down so many college kids. Not that he’d admit it out loud. “Fine,” A.sriel grumbles.

The rest of the night goes well for the two goats. A.sgore Boyd steadily and easily processed all of that meat, giving him more defined muscles and a much heavier, softer gut. He barely notices it other than the occasional tug on his gardening tank top when he feels it getting snug on his frame. A.sriel can’t help but notice every time another inch adds to his dad, though. He’s incredibly jealous, seeing as how he’s still a bit of a bean pile with a beer gut.

A.sriel ends up fast asleep eventually, though. A.sgore likely would be the same if not for the demanding pressure down below. He grumbles to himself as he gets up, careful not to wake his son. Then he slips off to the main shop of his home.

Getting a couple of bags out, A.sgore squats down and grunts. A few pushes and he’s unloading a few hundred pounds of fresh manure out. The bones will make for added nutrients to whatever plants get them. And college meat is great for soil! A.sgore will be charging well for these. Five bags get stacked up by the time he’s done, and with a satisfied smile, A.sgore heads back to the living area of his home.

“Hey, do you mind moving?” The voice makes S.ans open one eye and look up. Since getting to the surface, he’s been enjoying a lot of the privileges that come with it. Like sunbathing on the beachside. Of course, that also means many more complications.

A human is looking down at S.ans, frowning. The beach is a bit crowded and even a casual glance around shows that there aren't many good open spots. S.ans is taking up a rather large one just for himself. He likes the space. S.ans shrugs and shifts slightly to the left. “There.”

The human clearly didn’t appreciate the joke. “Alright, buddy.” He stoops down and grabs S.ans by the shirt, lifting him up. He fully intended to just toss the skeleton aside. But then he feels something grip him, S.ans’s eye glowing slightly. The skeleton’s jaws open wide, drooling slightly, and the human’s head is engulfed before he can even scream.

The man lets go of him but can’t move enough to fight back. S.ans starts gulping wetly, sinking down the human’s shoulders and chest. He’s on his feet again as he reaches the man’s stomach and starts lifting him up.

A slow slurping sound rings out as the human’s legs slowly sink down. All the while, S.ans’s gut stretches out more and more. He lies back down on his towel, folding his arms behind his head. He releases the grip his magic had, letting the human’s legs kick slightly from outside his jaws. But they’re fine with a final slurp and a gulp, sending the man down the hatch.

With a low, crass belch, S.ans gives a few rough pats to his belly. “Hah…alright, there we go. More than enough space for both of us to share, right?” S.ans’s gut sloshes around wetly as his meal squirms. The skeleton just shrugs and folds his arms behind his head again. “Eh, maybe not a whole lot for you…”

S.ans settles back down from there, letting his gut do its thing. It groans and gurgles deeply, sitting in the sun to help it with its work. The skeleton’s stomach steadily rounds out and shrinks down, the human inside going still and silent. S.ans belches in his sleep and lazily scratches his stomach.

When he comes to, the beach is much emptier. The skeleton yawns and sits up, lazily rubbing his eye sockets. His gut groans deeply and he puts his hands on it gently. “Hey, buddy. Still want this spot, huh?” He sighs and shrugs. “Alright, I’m done with it.”

Getting to his feet, S.ans shuffled the towel aside and drops his pants. He squats down and starts to push. His gut groans deeply and with some effort, a thick log of shit begins to press out. Once it’s coming free, it’s a much smoother process, and he sighs softly as the human starts coiling up under him.

The beach is much cooler with the sun going down, so the warmth of the shit S.ans is leaving is kind of nice. The smell…less so. But with enough time, he punches off the last log and is able to stand up again. The pile is up to his waist, bones sticking out and a skull near the top. S.ans chuckles and gives it a wave. “Enjoy the spot. It’s all yours.” He bundles up his towel under his arm and heads home with a lazy whistle.

-

When a wet-sounding fart echoes out in the house, P.apyrus groans and puts a hand to his face. He’s certain that was S.ans sitting on a whoopee cushion. He never did get that. The point of the joke is that other people sit on it, yes? But he’s certain that S.ans does it like this just to annoy him.

He’d go and reprimand his brother but he’s busy making dinner right now. He’s sure S.ans only planned to do it the one time. He wouldn’t be getting back up again for any reason, even to set off the whoopee cushion again. Though, there is a different sound in the air. A thick bubbling that’s distinct from the boiling pot P.apyrus is tending to. And some muffled voices. The TV, maybe..?

When P.apyrus hears the whoopee cushion again, he pauses. He can’t believe his brother. The only time he’s not lazy it’s for the absolute worst jokes! Who sits on a whoopee cushion twice? On purpose, no less? He shakes his head and turns to look at the kitchen doorway. “S.ans, no whoopee cushions before dinner! It’ll spoil your appetite!”

“Ya got it, bro,” is the lazy and faint reply, S.ans not even bothering to raise his voice to respond. P.apyrus just shakes his head and returns to cooking. He can’t hear that muffled voice anymore and the boiling sound is getting louder, too. What is S.ans even watching on the television? It better not be cooking shows! He knows that he shouldn’t watch those without P.apyrus!

P.apyrus is finally starting to drain the pasta when he hears S.ans grunting. It almost sounds like he’s doing something laborious, which is odd, since he never does anything like that. There’s another whoopee cushion sound before S.ans sighs and something starts to thump on the ground. Finally done with this terrible joke, P.apyrus leaves the kitchen to confront his brother.

“S.ans, what did I say about—“ He stops in the doorway as he sees his brother. The stout skeleton is squatting over the floor, shorts down and ass exposed. Dense, thick shit is sliding out of him, piling up on the ground. Bones are baked into the mess and the stink is finally noticeable.

S.ans looks at his brother and grins. “Oh, hey...nngh…bro.” Another log drops out, a ribcage baked into it. “You mind putting my pasta in the fridge tonight? I already had a bite to eat.” S.ans grunts again as a final log coils up on the top of the mess, a skull sticking out of it. The skeleton sighs deeply and stands up again.

P.apyrus stares at his brother and the pile of crap he left on their living room floor. Then he throws his hands up. “I told you not to ruin your appetite! And clean that up!” He turns and stomps back into the kitchen, grumbling to himself. Now he’s going to have to eat all of the spaghetti himself!

-

“BBWwwwwwWWWOOOOOooouuurrrrp!!!” A deep, wet belch rumbles out across the room, like a thundering roar. S.ans sighs deeply once it ends and readjusts the mic stand, his gut now squishing against it.

“Well, I hope the rest of you are enjoying the food like I am,” S.ans says with a few pats to his gut. It sloshes back and forth, muffled yells being caught by the mic. His meal wasn’t having a great time now being packed away in the bubbling, groaning gut.

He’d been an audience member about five minutes ago. He was heckling the acts all night, and while S.ans loved a good back and forth, he doesn’t like jerks. So he brought the guy onto the stage and…

Another belch echoes out into the mic as S.ans’s gut stretches out. It clenches back down, squishing the person back into place with a muffled whine. He rubs over his gut, getting right back into his act without skipping a beat. He has some new on-the-fly material thanks to the meal kicking in his gut, which provided some very wet and noisy background noise to the act. It seems to be well enough received by the audience.

All the while, S.ans’s gut steadily shrinks down. It gurgles and groans even louder as it does, softening up the hackles and pumping him away through S.ans’s system. It’ll make him a little chubbier all around but not enough that it’ll be an issue. What will be an issue is the heavyweight sinking deeper inside of him.

A low, deep groan rumbles out of S.ans’s stomach and he pats it. “Heh, didn’t think my last joke was that bad. No need to groan over it!” His gut rumbles hard again and he winces slightly. “Oh, I get it. He’s got a joke of his own. Well…nnf…let’s hear it…” S.ans squats down on stage, pulling his shorts down. He faces the audience with it and a wet fart comes out. And then something much more solid does.

A log of shit spreads S.ans out and begins to coil up on the stage floor. He grunts softly and keeps pushing, eyes closed as he lets out a pleased groan. Bones are sticking out of the crap, a skeleton essentially coming out feet first as S.ans dumps his heckler. “Hff…he’s really…dragging this bit out, huh..?”