Do you think F.reddy would take advantage of the situation if for one or another reason his bandmates slip and fall into his chest cavity?
I think he absolutely would.
“You really should be more careful,” F.reddy says as he helps M.onty up. The band is practicing on the stage, trying to figure out some new choreography for a song they’re doing. It’s going...well enough, except M.onty keeps moving around clumsily and has tripped over something several times now.
“I am bein’ careful!” M.onty demands with a huff. “It ain’t my fault stuff keeps gettin’ in my way!”
F.reddy sighs softly as M.onty stomps off. “Alright then...let’s take it from the top, everyone!” He smiles again as he gets the band back in their starting positions to do another rehearsal.
It goes well enough, at least at first. But then M.onty stumbles off his platform after stepping wrong and he goes tumbling down with a yelp. F.reddy notices and turns to try and catch him, only for the gator to crash into him and knock them both down.
F.reddy groans a bit as his vision flashes slightly. That hurt a bit. But…no, it’s not pain he’s feeling. It’s a different sensation—a much nicer one, in fact, coming from his chest. He looks down and gasps.
M.onty has managed to get his entire head wedged between F.reddy’s pecs. His muffled roaring was vibrating through F.reddy’s chest and it felt good. The gator’s thrashing around, large paws resting on either pec as he tries to pull himself free, but it’s just making the muscles clamp tighter.
Now, F.reddy knows he should let M.onty out and give him a more stern talking to about being careful. But the sensation is just…really good. F.reddy’s chest is clenching tight, eager to keep hold of its prey, and the bear finds it hard to deny himself the treat. It really is M.onty’s own fault for not listening, F.reddy reasons, as he wraps his arms around the gator and flexes his chest.
A muffled yelp comes from the bear’s chest as M.onty finds himself being held tighter and tugged deeper. His arms are pinned down by F.reddy’s hug, and just one flex has dragged his shoulders and most of his chest into the bear’s own. Once the shock wears off, M.onty is even more enraged.
Despite all his angry roaring and attempts to struggle, M.onty’s making very little headway on escape. His legs kick around wildly and his tail whips back and forth, but it’s all he can manage. His arms struggle against F.reddy’s, and once another tight flex drags him deeper, they’re struggling against the bear’s pecs instead.
F.reddy’s already letting the pleasure envelop him. It always felt good to cram something living into his pecs, but something as big and squirmy as M.onty after a day of rehearsal just feels even better. He flexes again with a pleased rumble, dragging the rest of M.onty’s torso into his chest and leaving only his ass and legs hanging out.
By that point, it’s been maybe a minute since they fell over. B.onnie and F.oxy finally got over to the two, just to see F.reddy getting back to his feet with M.onty’s legs kicking around wildly. “Woah, Fred, that’s a serious spill!” B.onnie says. “Hold still while we get Mont outta—“
F.reddy grunts and groans happily as he flexes his chest again, suddenly slurping in most of M.onty’s legs. He puts a paw on the bottom of M.onty’s feet and shoves down hard, forcing the rest of the gator into his chest. M.onty’s flicking tail tip is the last thing to slurp out of sight.
The other two watch as F.reddy’s pecs bounce on their own with M.onty struggling inside. They’re heavy and bloated and bulge out occasionally with a pressing hand or M.onty’s face. And F.reddy huffs in pleasure, his ears wiggling a bit as he feels the gator squirming and snapping inside of him.
“Er…Cap’n, don’t ye think he’s learned his lesson?” F.oxy asks. “Perhaps we should try to get him out before—“
F.reddy wasn’t listening—or maybe he was and didn’t care. He gropes his own chest a bit, then closes his eyes and flexes hard. M.onty screeches inside and there’s the sound of crunching, cracking metal. F.reddy’s pecs sink back a bit. Despite that, M.onty seems to be fighting even harder, getting more desperate and panicked.
The other two can only watch as F.reddy keeps mulching their fellow bandmates down. Every flex makes the bear’s chest sink back more, another part of M.onty being crushed down into mass with grisly sounds and loud screaming. It’s making the gator’s rage steadily turn into fear as more and more of him is turned into muscle mass.
By the end, M.onty had stopped making noise. A few more flexes crunch the last bits of him down and F.reddy is looking better off for it. Thicker pecs, more defined muscles, and he looks a bit taller. A pleased sigh comes from him and he feels up his new chest a bit more.
“Alright, we can get back to rehearsal now,” F.reddy says with a smile. He scratches between his pecs a bit and manages to hook something. He pulls out M.onty’s sunglasses, the lens broken and the frame warped. “We’ll just cut M.onty’s part for now…”
B.onnie and F.oxy both nod in agreement and quickly get back into place. They didn’t feel like arguing about it now. Besides, things’ll probably go more smoothly now anyway.
I loved your Beastars stuff! What about some vore headcanons with Foxy? (FNAF)
I'm really glad you liked them! Feel free to request more^ ^
Foxy (FNAF 1) Vore Headcanons (⚠Warning⚠)
Foxy is more the playful sort. I feel like if he actually found a tiny he'd probably enjoy fucking with them and scaring the hell out of them. That is.....unless the tiny starts crying and is obviously not okay, then he's a gentle cuddle bug that likes to calm you down.
If you're a prey that likes sharp teeth Foxy is definitely the pred for you!
Definitely the type to play with his food, expect to be dangled over and open maw and teased, possibly with him snapping his jaw shut.
Might be the type to let you chill in his mouth......but don't expect to get out of it without being swallowed first.
Secretly a cuddle bug, he can be super scary and intimidating but he has a soft side. If you can get past all the scary crap he pulls then you'll definitely earn cuddles and love from this big softie.
For sure the type to be extremely loyal, he can bully you but the moment anyone else does they're going down and he'll be there to calm you down~
That FNAF one was so good, can we have more of G.lamrock Freddy pred?
I can definitely get some more done for him, he’s great.
With a wet slurp, M.onty’s thrashing tail disappears past F.reddy’s lips and the gator fully lands in his gut. A wet belch rumbles out of the bear after, his gut sloshing back and forth as M.onty thrashes inside. B.onnie takes a step back, lifting his hands up. “Woah, Fred, let’s talk about this!”
“We have already talked about it,” F.reddy says, stepping forward to keep pace with B.onnie. “Now I am putting you and M.onty in time out until you start getting along.”
M.onty and B.onnie were almost always bickering with each other. Some kind of competition or sly exchange of words or just being around each other for too long gets the two animatronics worked up and fighting. F.reddy often has to break them up, and despite time and time again telling them to stop, it never does. That escalated to right now, where their bickering made them ruin a performance.
Now, in the backstage area, B.onnie just watched M.onty get snapped up and slurped down with ease. And F.reddy is advancing on him for seconds. “This is a bit extreme, isn’t it?” B.onnie asks with a nervous chuckle. “Look, you already got Mont, so let’s just call it even and--ack!” B.onnie bumps into a wall as he backed up, and soon after, has F.reddy’s full gut pressed against him. “F.reddy, c’mon, this is...oh Faz...” B.onnie’s eyes widen as F.reddy’s jaws do the same. Then his head is engulfed, and wet gulps and slurps begin dragging him down.
Sandwiched between the wall and F.reddy’s gut, there’s nowhere for B.onnie to go. He can barely even struggle as he’s quickly devoured. He gets a few seconds to kick his legs when he’s knee deep, but F.reddy tips his head back with a slurp and they disappear fast, sending him sloshing down into the bear’s gut on top of M.onty.
F.reddy huffs a bit, his tongue lolling out as he puts his hands on either side of his gut. “A-Alright, you two...you are heavy. I will let you out later once you have learned your lesson.” He’s sure that some timeout in his stomach together will let them work out whatever issues they have. They’re shouting a lot at the moment and won’t stop wiggling around, but F.reddy is more than capable of carrying that weight.
And carry it he does. He has to lug the two of them around for the day while continuing to do his job and entertain! He’s a bit gassier than usual doing it, and there’s no hiding his stomach. It’s all a little flustering for the bear, but any time someone asks, he just mentions that he’s helping B.onnie and M.onty “work out their differences”. Usually punctuated with a belch or some muffled shouting.
Of course, lugging around two giant robots is a lot of hard work on its own. Pair that up with having to handle customers and constantly move around, as well as needing to do even more work with two of the bandmates...indisposed, and it’s very demanding on his systems. Luckily, his body is sensing a lot of fuel for the taking.
F.reddy doesn’t noticed, too distracted handling so many people at once. When M.onty or B.onnie try to yell at him or when he lets out a notably harsh belch, it doesn’t register as any different than what has been happening today anyway. Their frantic thrashing is something he’s already adjusted to, so it doesn’t do much to get his attention when it grows more panicked and desperate.
The one thing F.reddy does notice is when his exhaustion starts to plateau and even wear off slightly. He’s also noticing that M.onty and B.onnie seem to be settling down a bit, their wiggling a lot less intent and their voices much softer. They must be calming down finally and getting along! And his systems are feeling less strained because of it. He doesn’t pay enough attention to notice that his stomach is smaller and softer, or that fuel is sluicing through him as B.onnie and M.onty fall apart.
The longer it goes on, the more energized F.reddy feels. He doesn’t really register the weird looks he gets from people when he mentions B.onnie and M.onty being in timeout in his stomach. It’s barely big enough for one robot, let alone two, and is far too round and sloshy anyway. Most people shrug it off as a strange joke though.
By the end of the day, F.reddy returns to his room with a soft sigh. “I am sorry that took longer than anticipated, I was unable to get a break today!” F.reddy says to his friends. “I will let you two out now, so I hope you have learned yoOOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRPP!!!” A thick belch rumbles out of F.reddy and something flies out of his maw. He recognizes them as M.onty’s sunglasses, and when he stoops down to grab them, he finally takes notice of his stomach.
It hangs off of him like a round pot belly, sloshing slightly when he moves. He blinks and presses a paw into it, feeling it squish and grumble. It’s far too small to hold one animatronic, certainly not two. F.reddy’s face heats up a bit. “...oh dear, not again...”
-
F.reddy blinks a couple of times as he suddenly comes back online. He’s in the giant cylinder still so his maintenance must have finally finished! He smiles to himself and moves to get to his feet. As he does, he feels his entire center of balance shift and he stumbles a bit as he gets up again. “What on Earth..?” He looks down at himself and...ah.
F.reddy’s stomach hangs out heavily before him, bubbling and sloshing. He can feel something shifting around in there. He stifles a belch into his fist and puts his own paw on his stomach to settle it slightly. That is not ideal. F.reddy rubs his stomach slightly as he steps out of the cylinder and sees the very unhappy expression of the lead technician.
“Ah...I hope I was not too much trouble,” F.reddy says with a sheepish expression. His stomach bubbles wetly and he feels the meat inside go completely slack. He stifles another burp.
“Well, we’re down five technicians now,” the lead says with an annoyed sigh. He jabs F.reddy’s gut with a screwdriver, making it slosh and wobble. It gets a wet belch out of F.reddy and a cap flies out of his jaws, hitting the ground with a wet splat.
“I see...” F.reddy can feel his face heating up and he looks away. He rubs over his gut ideally as it bumps the biofuel through him, most of those technicians long since broken down. He can’t help but let out a pleased hum as he feels his systems get more energized.
The lead technician sighs and shakes his head. “Just go back to your room and finish that off. I need to find some people willing to work on M.onty...”
“Understood. Thank you.” F.reddy smiles politely and heads for his personal maintenance tunnel. His gut bounces and sways as he walks, loud sloshes echoing through the tunnel. He’lll likely have finished processing all of the technicians within the hour.
“I do apologize for your rapid demotion to biofuel,” F.reddy comments to his stomach. He knows none of them can hear him, but he feels he should say something. It’s not like he meant to eat them! He just cannot control himself when he’s in maintenance mode. They go through technicians so fast, that most of them are new hires that make one mistake and...well...
F.reddy burps again, this time sending a shoe flying out and bounce across the ground. He slurps over his lips a bit and pats his stomach. At least all of the energy they gave him will let him get through the day without charging! He’s sure they are happy to provide that at least.
Do you think Monty would ambush the other glamrocks after they’ve had their fill of prey? Get them all filled up before snacking on his costars? 👀
I've been getting too many really fun M.onty ideas lately. This sounds great, absolutely I think he would.
M.onty growls to himself, his claws scratching up the table he’s sitting at as he watches the others. Today sucks. Each of them had been booked today with huge parties, and now that the day is over, they’re all stuffed full. And M.onty? No one booked him at all! He hasn’t had a bite! Not even some chumps in his golf course to eat! He’s practically withering away, while the other three are showing off their heavy, full guts.
F.reddy belches deeply, giving the side of his gut a few rough pats. “I think we should really start regulating how much we can eat during the day. This seems slightly excessive to me…”
“Nah, it’s fine,” B.onnie reassure with a chuckle. He hefts up his stomach and lets it drop so it bounces and sloshes. “They were practically begging for it! Plus, those private parties all come with plenty of legal jargon. We’re not responsible for any digestion that happens!”
“Arr, they be tempt in’ us like a siren,” F.oxy agrees, lazily picking his teeth with his hook while his guts groan wetly in his lap. “They ought to be eaten, show them that we mean business.”
M.onty grumbles again and his gut does the same. He’s certain they’re doing this to mock him now. He knows he’d have gotten more food if they hadn’t hogged it all in those stupid parties. And why didn’t he get booked for one? F.oxy got booked over him! This isn’t just unfair…it’s wrong. They need to make it up to him…they owe him a meal.
A grin begins to curl onto M.onty’s muzzle and he slurps over his teeth. He sees a really good three-course meal right in front of him. Freshly fattened, too. He’s drooling now as he gets to his feet, trying not to draw their attention too much. They’re still chatting together, showing off their fattened guts. They’re asking for this.
M.onty lunges without a second thought, jaws open wide. None of them saw it coming, and B.onnie’s voice gets cut off mid-sentence. The two of them crash to the ground, B.onnie chest deep in M.onty’s maw. It doesn’t stay that way for long as the gator begins to gulp and shove, forcing the rabbit deeper. His jaws are gnawing and chewing on that soft rabbit gut by the time B.onnie’s legs start kicking and his muffled yells can be heard.
“M.onty!” F.reddy cries out and rushes over, grabbing onto B.onnie’s kicking legs. “What do you think you’re doing?! Spit B.onnie up immediately!”
M.onty snarls and gets back to his feet, his jaws clamping down tight as he starts to play tug-of-war with F.reddy. B.onnie’s muffled cries betray his clear discomfort with this. After a bit of pulling, M.onty gives a hard yank and opens wide. F.reddy loses his balance and falls forward, inadvertently shoving B.onnie deeper. It also gets his arms firmly planted in M.onty’s maw, which clamps down again. F.reddy is elbow deep, with B.onnie’s feet kicking around weakly outside of the gator’s lips.
F.reddy’s eyes widen as he realizes the situation he’s in. M.onty’s eyes glare at him from behind his sunglasses, but he’s grinning. Another hard gulp and a lunge forward, and F.reddy’s head and shoulders are fully engulfed. M.onty grabs the bear by the waist and begins to hoist him off the ground, throwing his head back and snapping his jaws as he starts forcing the bear down the hatch. He makes sure to chew on that fat gut a bit, just like B.onnie’s, before shoveling the whole thing down the hatch. Then he just has to slurp up F.reddy’s kicking legs.
M.onty’s stomach bloats out heavily with the last gulp. It bounces and sloshes, sagging down past his knees as two of his bandmates drop inside. It’s stretched tightly over them, showing off detailed bulges of the rabbit and bear as they wiggle and squirm inside. A deep, thick belch rumbles out of M.onty and he gives his stomach a few hard smacks. “Ha, that’s what you two get! Showin’ off those guts of yours while I was starvin’, you shoulda known you were just lookin’ like a couple of stuffed chickens!”
Some muffled sounds echo out of M.onty’s gut, making him laugh and give it a good shake. It sloshes the two inside around, stirring them up more and leaving them wiggling uselessly. M.onty is completely distracted by his tank but perks up when he hears the sound of someone moving. He locks eyes with F.oxy, the pirate freezing up in fear. M.onty slurps over his teeth slowly and gestures with a finger. “Do I look full to you? C’mere, fuzzball.”
“Arr...” F.oxy frowns and starts walking over. His eyes flicker down to M.onty’s engorged stomach, seeing F.reddy’s face stretching it out. “Don’t ye think yer takin’ this a wee bit too far?”
M.onty grabs F.oxy by the front of his coat and yanks him in close, their stomachs pressing tightly together. M.onty opens wide, blasting a thick belch right into the pirate’s face. It makes F.oxy wince and try to turn his head away, but a slobbering gator tongue makes that difficult as it drags over his face. “Nah. I said I ain’t full. So down you go.” M.onty opens wide again and, this time, shovels F.oxy face first into his gullet.
F.oxy’s legs kick, but he goes down even easier than the other two did. M.onty just throws his head back over and over, taking wet gulps to suck the pirate down. He doesn’t even use his hands, letting them rest on his already engorged stomach so he can feel his dessert stretch it out even further.
Once the last bits of F.oxy are pulled inside the gator’s maw, M.onty’s jaws snap shut and the last harsh gulp sends him on his way. M.onty’s stomach groans and stretches further, nearly touching the ground now with how stuffed it is. He gives the top of it a few rough pats, slowly slurping over his lips. He has to admit...the others are way better meals when they’re stuffed. He wouldn’t have felt this full even if he did get to snack on a bunch of customers today!
With a final harsh belch, M.onty begins to waddle off back to his room. His guts bounce and slosh with every slow step, getting lots of muffled complaints in the process. It just makes him chuckle, patting his gut some more with one hand while he picks his teeth with the other. “That oughta teach y’all...mm...then again, I gotta say, stuffed bandmates are pretty filling! I might still be churning over some of y’all come opening tomorrow...” M.onty grins when he hears even more muffled complaints. Today wasn’t so bad after all.
If M.onty and A.sgore squared off in a vore duel, who’d come out on top with a full belly?
So honestly I think this goes one of two ways but it depends completely on which A.sgore we're talking about. So here's one with both.
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.
M.onty casually lumbers off after that. One hand is patting his gut and the other is picking white fluff out of his teeth. There’ll probably still be some stuck in there by the time his next meal is staring down his jagged maw. Just a good example of what happens when his faces with a snack, really.
Hi! Can we get some M.onty g.ator vore where he digests his bandmates and maybe a few visitors to gain muscles?
I'm always up for some M.onty 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.
“That’s better,” M.onty growls, voice rumbling deep from his chest. “No one needs you guys. You’re just more of me now! That’s better than whatever pointless lives you had before!” He laughs, turning to stomp out of the room. He has to duck to squeeze out the doorway. “Better go out and show off the new bod. Gotta make sure everyone forgets about you jerks. Don’t need you cramping my style again.”
