#monsterpromvore

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Voretober Day 4 - Carnival

First prompt where, gotta admit, I had a hard time with it. I couldn't think of anything I liked with this one, and even when I settled on the idea, I didn't really feel inspired by it. So I skipped all the vore and it's just a disposal scene. I hope it still came out good for a short thing!

FA link

Brian sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “...so...explain what I’m looking at here.”

“It’s a dunk tank, obviously!” Damien says, smacking the side of the giant tub. The contraption doesn’t look out of place at all. Their school is hosting a carnival at the moment where students were allowed to host their own booths and attractions. Naturally, Damien would want to do something that would humiliate people like a dunk tank. But...

“And you’ve been dunking people into...” Brain trails off, gesturing with a hand to get Damien to say out loud what he was doing. Damien opens his mouth to speak.

“BWWWWWWWEEEEOOOOOOOUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP!!!!!”

A deep, meaty belch roars out before Damien can speak. It echoes from inside of the dunk tank tub, making it sound even louder...not that it really needed the help. The two of them look inside the tub at the source.

Scott is flopped over on his back, grinning wide as he huffs and puffs, clearly a little out of it. His tail can be heard thumping slightly against the walls of the tub. Most notably, of course, is his furry gut. It’s bulging out heavily, burbling and churning deeply over a heavy mass of food. The vague shapes of various monsters packed inside can be seen stretching it out, though at the bottom, bones of equally varying shapes can be seen...

“It’s not like I told him to do it!” Damien retorts, crossing his arms. “I just told Scott to put something in the tub for people to be dunked in. Not my fault he decided that should be his stomach acids!”

“And you didn’t stop him?” Brian asks.

“Well...it seemed like a good idea at the time!” Damien says. “It’s way better than something lame like water! What’s the big deal in just getting soaked? Plus, I made a ton of money from it! So clearly everyone else agreed!”

Brian doubted that. The tub is wooden and not see through, so anyone actually playing the game wouldn’t have any idea what was waiting down below. The people sitting on the seat waiting to get ‘dunked’ probably did, though. Which means they were either weirdo perverts that wanted it...or just normal perverts that thought they were going to bang a werewolf.

Another heavy “BWWWWEEEEEEEEEEELLLLCCCCHHH!!!!” rattles the tub, followed by some pleased groans from Scott. The burbling and churning and groaning of his gut keeps echoing out of it. His werewolf metabolism will have no issue polishing off all of that meat and pumping it deeper through his system.

“Anyway, are you going to help me or not?” Damien asks. “That’s why I called you over here in the first place!”

Brian sighs and rubs the back of his head. “Help with what, exactly..?”

Damien jerks a thumb at the tub. “I gotta get him out of here. Apparently, I’m not allowed to run a stall that ‘kills’ people and I don’t wanna get caught by some teacher doing an inspection.”

That explains why Damien has the curtain to this attraction closed at the moment. Brian crosses his arms and sighs. “And why should I help you get out of your own mess..?”

“Because if I get in trouble, I’ll say it was your idea and take you down with me,” Damien retorts, jabbing Brian in the chest. “So help me get your stupid boyfriend out of here.”

Brian sighs again. “Fine, let’s hurry up.” It’s never worth it to fight with Damien on things like this. It’ll be easier to just get Scott out of here before they get caught. Surely people have already figured out what’s going on here and word is spreading, otherwise Damien wouldn’t be this worked up.

Together, the demon and zombie reach into the bucket to help pull Scott to his feet. It makes the werewolf’s guts slosh heavy and shifts the massive weight inside. There’s a deep rumble from his gut, and it’s quickly followed by another roaring “HHUUWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPP!!!!” It fills the air with the stench of dead, rotten meat. Brian doesn’t have a strong reaction to it, but Damien’s nose crinkles and he groans as he turns his head away.

“C’mon, Scott, let’s getcha out of there,” Brian says reassuringly as he tries to help the stuffed werewolf over the edge of the bucket. Even with Damien helping him, it’s not easy. Scott isn’t light to begin with and being so stuffed on people is making him even heavier. The two of them pull together, but they’re just squashing Scott’s gut against the wall of the bucket further. It makes the meat slurry inside squelch and churn and works out some more gas.

‘FFFBBBBBbbrrrrrrttttch!’

Scott’s tail flagged up as he let out a trumpeting fart into the air. It’s even worse than his belching, and Damien finally pulls away, covering his nose and coughing. “Ugh, God, that stinks!”

Brian sighs and stops pulling as well. “Just deal with it, Damien. Before Scott--”

Another low rumble echoes from the werewolf’s stomach and he winces this time. “Ooooh...bros, I don’t feel so good. I think I gotta--”

“No, bad dog!’ Damien says quickly. “I know you’re potty trained! Just hold it in and get out of the tub!”

Scott winces again as a louder rumble comes from his stomach. He whines loudly and starts trying to clamor out on his own. His movement is clumsier than usual. Scott had a few weaknesses, like belly rubs and being called a ‘good boy’. Being stuffed was among that list and was making him groggy and sluggish. He’s able to get one leg over the side of the dunk tank’s tub, showing off his furry ass.

Brian blushes a bit as he stares at it. It looks like Scott was only wearing his jockstrap, showing off the muscular cheeks to the world. He was going to question why Scott seemingly stripped down when the tub didn’t even have water in it but...he doesn’t have to.

GGGGRRRrrggggllllrrrgGGGGB~!

The rumbling gurgle Scott’s stomach just let out was much wetter and deeper than the last few had been. It makes the werewolf perk up for a moment, and then his face pinches. “I-I can’t hold it!” he says quickly. “I gotta go..!” Scott manages to get his other leg over the side of the tub, but instead of dropping to the ground and running off, he sits on the edge and grips it tightly. His face pinches as he starts to strain.

“Scott, no!” Damien quickly rushes over to try and pull the werewolf down, but another bassy fart blows out of Scott’s ass and makes the demon just as quickly reel away. It was too late now.

Scott grunts loudly, his entire body shaking slightly. An even worse smell fills the air that makes Brian back up slightly as well. Then Scott sighs deeply. There’s a soft thump from inside of the tank as he begins to unload his bowels, the flow moving much more freely now that he’s gotten started. There was nowhere for Damien or Brian to go in the small, closed off section of the stall that could escape the smell or hide what they were seeing.

Thick logs of shit were snaking out of Scott’s ass with rapid ease, slowly beginning to fill up the tank. There’d be no way to pass off the mess as just an especially large but otherwise normal pile of werewolf shit--bones, scales, feathers, fur, clothes, and other accessories are all baked into nearly every inch of shit Scott forces out.

“How many people did you dunk anyway?” Brian asks, though unable to take his eyes off the show.

“I dunno!” Damien groans. “I was busy counting the cash, not the chumps!”

Brian knew it was pointless asking Scott such a question, so it would have to remain a mystery. Whatever the number was...it was clearly a lot. Scott’s stomach is visibly deflating as he pumps out several feet of crap at a time. It goes on for several minutes--too uncomfortably long for Brian and Damien, but Scott seems to be enjoying it from the way his tail was wagging.

A few sloppy sputtering sounds signals the end of Scott’s massive disposal, the werewolf sighing deeply in content when he’s finally emptied out. He hops to the ground, tail wagging and a goofy grin on his face. His stomach bounces from it, now a round pot belly instead of his normal abs. “Alright, bros, I’m all done!”

“Yeah, we noticed!” Damien snaps. The dunk tank is now mostly filled up with thick werewolf shit, many indigestibles poking out all over. The thick, repulsive stench fills the air, nearly visible as it wafts from the heap. There’s definitely no using the dunk tank anymore.

“Right, let’s get going before someone comes to investigate this,” Brian says. He walks over to Scott to take the werewolf by his hand and guide him away.

“Wait, you can’t go yet!” Damien yells out. “What am I supposed to do when someone sees all this Scott shit here?!”

“Just say it’s your new idea for a dunk tank and hope they buy it,” Brian retorts with a flippant wave of his hand. “The cleaning costs are probably better than what you’d actually get as a punishment.”

“What?! I’m not cleaning this! Get back here!” Damien keeps roaring angrily, but Brian guides Scott out of the booth and away from the area. The smell is starting to waft out...so they’re just going to walk until it’s gone.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

For the spooky season, I think S.cott H.owl Being a 'slasher' type pred going after people In food themed costumes, probably while drunk or just super hungry regular food won't cut it. Wolf mode going over time haha

Oh my god, this is a genius idea! Definitely gonna do something for it.

S.cott stumbles around a bit through the crowds. He’s been spending the night at a real awesome Halloween party. Which also means there’s been some Halloween-themed booze that he’s had waaaay too much of. He also ate too many of the Halloween-themed snacks and got chased away from the snack table. But he’s still hungry…

After bumping too hard into a mummy dressed as a pirate…or maybe a pirate dressed as a mummy..? Anyway, S.cott spots something that makes him stop and his belly growls deeply. It’s…a giant hotdog. His eyes are wide and his tail is starting to wag. Hotdog…big hotdog..!

The hotdog, or in reality, the gargoyle, is laughing and chatting with a guy he’s trying to hit on. It’s going pretty well…at least until the guy suddenly goes stiff and backs away. The gargoyle has no idea what he said wrong but he doesn’t get a chance to find out. Something big and fast crashes into him and tackles him to the floor and his head is engulfed somewhere dark and wet.

S.cott is so hungry and excited and drunk that he doesn’t really question why the hotdog is struggling and screaming or why it doesn’t taste like a hotdog. He’s completely focused on devouring it! Strong gulps and slurps drag the struggling hotdog down his gullet and towards his deeply growling gut. The guy that had been flirting with S.cott’s snack slowly backs away before he finally turns and speedwalks off. No one else bothers coming over.

The gargoyle is screaming out obscenities as he’s roughly crammed into S.cott’s stomach. The werewolf finally gets back to his feet, shoving the last of the hotdog down the hatch with a few gulps. A wet slurp sucks up the gargoyle’s thrashing tail and he’s gone, S.cotty’s and bloating out into a furry orb that hangs down low with all that food packed away.

S.cott pants and huffs, rubbing over his gut. He’s got a dumb smile on his face with his jaws hanging open and his tail wagging like crazy. A thick belch escapes him, his stomachs squeezing over the hotdog and getting a muffled yell. Tasty and filling…that should be enough…

…is what S.cott would think if he didn’t spot a giant piece of candy corn walking by. He stops, staring at the guy silently like before. His belly gurgles and groans deeply. The gargoyle inside screams as the walls close in around him, S.cott’s body immediately making space for more food by smashing his last meal down. The candy corn doesn’t seem to notice the muffled screams or the wet cracks that cut them off. He’s too focused on getting to the bathroom.

The candy corn— a lizard man in reality—manages to find the bathroom by brushing past some partygoers and ducks inside. Trying to piss while wearing this costume is going to suck but he’s had too many beers. While he’s trying to get it off enough to do his business, though, some loud knocking comes from the door. “…occupied!”

After a few more seconds of struggling with his costume, the knocking returns, even louder. “Occupied!” the lizard yells. The knocks turn into banging that rattles the door. “…hey, that’s not funny, jackass!” The banging continues and the knob rattles over and over. It’s starting to freak the lizard out but just before he goes into panic it…stops. There’s a beat of silence. Then the door smashes open and the lizard screams.

S.cott tackles the candy corn into the bathtub. There are a few moments of wild thrashing as the werewolf gets his jaws down over the top of the candy and begins to greedily devour it. The lizard’s screams cut off fast, and the werewolf barely notices the difference as he snarfs his second course down.

In the end, S.cott is lying on his back in the tub, his guts bulging out above him as they bulge and rock back and forth. The lizard is screaming like a maniac, sitting in molten belly sludge that used to be a gargoyle and a tattered hotdog costume. And with how tightly the stomach walls are squeezing around him, it’ll soon have candy corn added to that.

S.cott belches thickly, some scales coming up. He gets to his feet, his guts sloshing thickly as he does, and stumbles out of the bathroom. He nearly falls over from it but catches himself on the wall. He feels stuffed now…but…

S.cott sees a PB&J walking off together and laughing. It’s a demon and a gryphon in a couple’s costume, planning to have some fun now that they’re buzzed. But S.cott just sees another delicious meal…

The two of them head upstairs and manage to find an empty bedroom to slip into. They’re so busy making out that they don’t notice the door is unlocked. They end up flopping onto the bed, one on top of the other, really looking like a sandwich now.

The door slowly creaks open and the demon lifts his head a bit. “Mm…did you hear that, babe?”

“No.” The gryphon forces the demon to look back at him and makes out with him. The demon gets back into the mood pretty quickly. But then the floor freaks loudly.

“Babe, I swear I heard—“ The demon tries to look over his shoulder but the gryphon won’t let go of him.

“Hey, are we gonna do this or not?” the gryphon asks. “I put on this stupid costume for you. I’m not getting out of it unless we’re fucking.”

The demon sighs and looks back at his boyfriend. “Alright, alright…” And he goes back to making out with the gryphon. Neither of them notice the shadow looming over them or the slobbering jaws opening wide and coming in.

S.cott begins to eat the giant, delicious sandwich. The demon and gryphon’s legs fit into his maw nicely and he starts to cram the actual sandwich in after. The couple starts to squirm and wiggle, and by the time they're up to their waists, both have noticed what’s happening. But S.cott doesn’t even hear their shouting as he focuses entirely on working the PB&J down where it belongs—his stomach.

The boyfriends’ faces get smooshed together by S.cott’s hands roughly pressing and shoving on them. They’re forced to kiss, yells muffed as they slowly and steadily get crammed down the werewolf’s gullet. Stuck in their bulky costumes, unable to struggle, all the way up until the sharp fangs snap down like a gate before them and they get fully paced up into the werewolf’s belly.

The couple are screaming and yelling for help, but it’s all muffled by the werewolf’s gut. S.cott is lying on his back, panting happily as his stomach churns and clenches down, trying to compact all of that meat up as usual. The PB&J doesn’t last very long, being crushed down into paste with some shrill screams and wet crunches. And a very thick, wet werewolf belch.

At this point, S.cott is really stuffed. And the bed feels so nice and comfy. S.cott’s panting slows down as his eyes drift shut…and eventually he ends up snoring softly, fast asleep. His guts churn and groan deeply and the last twitches die off in his stomach. The party goes on around him as he sleeps off his feast.

Come morning, S.cott wakes up with a big yawn. His head hurts from a hangover and his stomach hurts from…something else. He rubs over both with a soft groan. His belly gurgles angrily at him and wobbles. A thick belch ends up roaring out of the werewolf and he feels something solid come up.

Leaning over the bed, a few wet slaps and splats ring out. That didn’t feel like the normal kind of hangover throw-up. S.cott blinks his eyes blearily to look at what he just horked up.

On the ground, covered in slime, filled with holes, and sizzling slightly in the air is a pile of fabric. It’s all twisted together and unrecognizable. For some reason, S.cott ends up thinking about hotdogs and candy corn and PB&J’s looking at it…must mean he needs breakfast.

With some effort and a hand on his head, S.cott gets out of bed. His belly wobbles some more as he moves, now a soft pot belly that hangs low before him. It gives a low groan, suddenly very empty after the upchuck. Definitely breakfast time…

Thankfully, S.cott will find a giant banana sleeping on a couch downstairs. It’ll be perfect.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Asriel and Scott McHowl get matched up in a vore duel for a halloween wrestling tournament on a Vore University Campus. As much as Asriel is embarrassed by his father's cheering (and jerking off to watching his son be dominated by Scott) until that cheering pushes him to turn the tables and either pec vore or cock vore Scott. Endings feature either Asriel or Scott taking their opponent's skull as a trophy, and hoping they'll come out of the tournament alive

That's a fun idea! I do really love settings where vore and general sexual debauchery is super casual so this is right up my alley. Even though the ask seemed to be leaning towards A.sriel winning, you mentioned an ending with either victor so I put it up to RNG.

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.

...S.cott pants a bit as he sits down on the bench in the locker room. Other guys are talking and chattering as they wait on their turns out on the mats. While the match itself wasn’t too exhausting for the werewolf, pumping a guy down into muscle mass can still be hard work! A.sriel went down fast and easy at least. S.cott looks at the goat skull sitting in his locker now, a trophy of his first victory in the match. He’s hoping to get some more under his belt! He scratches his slightly fuller chest in anticipation, some white fur flaking off as he does.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

(Resent ask, hope it goes through this time) that monster prom story got me acting up and gave me thoughts, so can we get prompts about duos/groups of the guys in Monster Prom being preds together? idm how many in each prompt, and who's in each prompt, oral vore only tho pls

Oh yeah, that old story was fun to do. I wouldn't mind doing more group pred stuff!

Prom was such a success for B.rian and S.cott that the two of them ended up going to the after-party to keep the night going. Luckily, lots of students had thought the same and so there was a good place to meet up and do so nearby. A night of partying and spiked punch leaves a couple of guys pretty hungry, though, so when S.cott heard the zombie's stomach growling out, he did the only thing a good date would and got him some food. B.rian figured that meant he'd have to watch a drunk werewolf trash the snack table but what he got was much more...filling. S.cott grabbed the nearest partying guest and shoveled them head first into B.rian's maw. Zombies eat flesh, right? Well, a few gulps later and B.rian certainly had, one way or another. B.rian was left a bit flustered by it, his suit now split open with a squirming guy packed away. He lets out a thick belch, which makes S.cott's tail wag. The werewolf clearly thought he did a good job. He'd done such a good job, in fact, that B.rian decided to return the favor by doing the same. Someone was yapping in his ear anyway, wanting his date back since B.rian had relocated him into his guts. He grabs the guy by the collar and shoves his head into S.cott's jaws. Pretty soon, both men have bloated guts with some unfortunate couple inside, lost to the afterparty forever. Of course, once these two get started on something, they don't often tend to stop, and a few more partygoers would go missing that night. One of them would grab a guy and shovel him into the other's jaws. Then whatever date had a problem with his boyfriend becoming good got the same treatment. All the booze made sure that there weren't many people sober enough to give a damn over the disappearing people and the excessively stuffed guys causing it. The night moved on without the devoured guys, and as dawn approached, those guys won't be able to complain anymore anyway. B.rian and S.cott would be wobbling out near dawn. Their suits are ruined thanks to their guts, both full and churning over a few different guys each. Though they're long since reduced to sludge. Both guys have definitely had the best prom night ever. And they'd definitely want to do it again soon. Maybe their next date can be somewhere even more crowded.

"C'mon, don't be such a square!" D.amien says, his gut pressing against L.iam's back. The vampire tries to shoo him off but it really doesn't do anything to help. He'd been trying to enjoy a nice, normal lunch that he could take pictures of to post online, but for some reason, D.amien felt like taking a personal grudge to that and won't leave him alone. L.iam almost feels a bit bad for the guy the demon has by the collar of his shirt. "I'm not a disgusting slob like you," L.iam says with a frown. "I'm not going to eat some random--MMMPH?!" His eyes widen as D.amien crams the student's head into his jaws midsentence. "You talk too damn much!" D.amien says. "But we'll get your mouth doing something more important now!" He starts cramming the student deeper, forcing L.iam to choke him down. The vampire flails a bit and lets out muffled cries but he can't stop D.amien from forcing a live meal down his gullet. The demon forces the feet down the hatch and pulls his hand back out of L.iam's mouth. The vampire gulps one last time and starts coughing after. "What's your problem?! Agh, look at me now..." L.iam's stomach is bulging out now, pressed against the table in front of him. His meal is moving around inside. bulging his stomach further as they attempt to escape. L.iam sighs and presses a hand down on the bulge the student's head is making. "And you, will you stop--BWWWWOORRRRRRP!" A wet belch escapes L.iam and it makes him blush from embarrassment. It also makes D.amian start laughing and he smacks his own stomach a few times. "I knew you had it in you! A few more meals like that and maybe you'll be a little less annoying to be around." L.iam immediately feels sick to his stomach at the mere idea. "A few more..? I'm not eating more than this!" He crosses his arms and looks away with a frown. He hears D.amien walk off and assumes that's the end of it. Five minutes later and the demon is forcing another student head-first down his gullet. He's going to spend the rest of lunch being fed like this...and then the rest of the day trying to digest it all. No amount of complaining is going to stop D.amien for a second.

"There's no way a robot is better at eating people than we are," D.amien demands with a frown. "You can't automate that kinda thing!" "But he is!" S.cott retorts. "Robots are always built to do things better than people, right? So he's gotta be really good at eating! He's already better at math than me!" "A rock is better at math than you," D.amien huffs. "...ugh, fine. Let's put it to the test! We'll see just how good C.alculester is at eating and when I win, I'll get to rub it in your stinking face!" With the plan decided, the two guys start by grabbing C.alculester--quite literally stealing him from the middle of class and walking off with him. Once they get the robot settled down in a chair, they go about getting meals for him to eat. Any students who happen to walk past the janitor's closet S.cott and D.amien turned into their base of operations are pulled in and presented to the robot. C.alculester...doesn't fully get what's going on, but is just happy to spend time with his friends, so he works on devouring everyone handed off to him without hesitation. The mouth on his screen opens just fine, and anything shoved in disappears like any food would. His stomach creaks and groans as it starts to expand outward, the metal stretching with ease as each unfortunate student is gulped down. D.amien is confident that nothing can beat him, especially a robot, so he doesn't waver as more and more students disappear. The only reason the two of them stop is that C.alculester's stomach has gotten too big for the small room and has pinned both guys to the walls. "I...can't reach the door," S.cott says, waving his arm uselessly in the air. "Then he can't eat anymore, so I was right!" D.amien demands, even though he's being pressed against the wall completely. "Eat more?" C.alculester asks. "Oh, I can eat more! Let me make room. Initiating biofuel-conversation process." A loading symbol pops up on the robot's face and a loud groan rumbles up from his stomach. In an instant, it shrinks back down, rapidly losing size and definition as his body processes all of the students at once. D.amien drops onto the floor from the sudden freedom as C.alculester is left with nothing more than a slight beer gut. He lets out a ding and his face returns to the screen. "Process complete! I am ready for more food!" D.amien grumbles as he gets back to his feet. He won't admit that...that had been pretty cool. "I bet he can't do that a second time," the demon huffs. S.cott smiles and opens the door to grab another student. "Let's find out!"

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Would you mind writing something for O.z from Mo.nster Pr.om? I'm imagining him using his gut to drag his crushes to prom. They might digest before the dance is over, but at least he's not showing up without a date~

I like that idea a lot, so sure!

This is just...embarrassing. The most embarrassing thing O.z has ever had to experience. It's the day of prom, he has his suit and everything, and...he doesn't have a boyfriend! He's been talking to a few guys, leaving his options open, but it's the day of and all of them...all of them turned him down. Now he doesn't have a date! Who goes to prom without a date?! He'll be the laughingstock of the entire school! Maybe he should go into hiding. Disappear, become a NEET or something, escape society and never have to face this!

O.z shakes his head wildly. No, no, no! He can't give up yet! There has to be something he can do. Maybe some flowers? Chocloates? If he just shows them how much they mean to him, they'll definitely want to take him, right? It's not too late! It doesn't have to be! He can...He can...

A deep, low groan rumbles out of O.z's stomach, making him freeze up and look down at it. He gently puts his hand to his flat gut and feels another nasty rumble come from it. He's never felt this hungry before. Maybe it was all the stress..? He should go eat something while he tries to think. He should eat...something...

That's it.

O.z went to prom after all, and in doing so, became the talk of the dance in an instant. He was wearing the nice suit he had picked out weeks in advance, but he didn't have time for any...modifications. That's why the jacket and dress shirt are both left open and his tie is left to hand limply around his neck. Although, most of that was because of his pre-prom binging.

The monster's smooth, black stomach is jutting out before him, grossly engorged with at least several men, the bulges they make shifting and moving around as they try to squirm in the tight confines of the stomach. O.z didn't pay them a whole lot of mind, as if their desperate attempts to escape--or even just find momentary comfort--wasn't a big deal. If anything, he was in a pretty good mood. He came to prom, he has his date(s), and there's no need for him to go off the grid in shame! Sure, having more than one date is a bit...unorthodox, and eating them beforehand probably is, too. But it all works out on a technicality! And if the night goes well, he'll be able to spit them up and maybe they can all have a good laugh about it.

Doing normal prom stuff was a little awkward with such a large gut. He kept bumping it into people and having to apologize when he winds up knocking them down. Getting drinks (he really doesn't have the stomach for snacks right now) was a little hard when his stomach is stretching out farther than his own arms. And he definitely takes up more of the dance floor when he tries dancing with such a large stomach since most people thought it was smart to give the overstuffed O.z a significant breadth to work with. He didn't get to talk to his dates much, either--what little things he could make out were 'Let me out' and 'Oh god, I'm melting!' which didn't make for great conversation. It did a lot to wrack up his nerves, so he made repeated trips to the drink table to slam down a cup of spiked punch. By the fourth one, he was hammered, and there was little chance of survival for his dates at that point.

A stomach, after all, isn't a safe place to store most things, but especially meaty dates to prom. The constant sloshing around as O.z moves about doesn't do much of help them, either. Being on the dance floor a second time, now fueled by alcohol, must have melted down at least two or three of them in the process, and every wet slosh of his stomach doesn't help those that survived it much better. As the night goes on, those detailed bulges become less detailed...and eventually less bulging. O.z winds up belching more and more when he moves around while his guts churn louder than the DJ's music. When he finally takes a break to catch his breath, his stomach is completely round and much smaller than it had been when he walked in. Even so, he never really seemed to notice. It didn't really matter if his dates were alive and kicking or dead and sloshing by this point, and he'd keep enjoying prom with whatever's left of them boiling away.

O.z would have a horrible hangover the next day. He'd think his messy, unkempt suit would mean he got some action that night but...it was mostly like that because his once thin body and ballooned outward in chub after processing about five bachelors in a single night. Prom was too much of a blue for him to remember all the details, though, and whatever clothes or bones were lucky enough to get belched up only vaguely reminded him of who met a grisly end in his stomach. Even if he can't fully recall the greatest night of his life, though, he'd at least have two commemorative photos. One from the start of the night, his gut taking up most of the frame with its distinct bulges, and one at the end of the night, his stomach a round pot belly hanging off his waist while he's blatantly plastered.

At the very least, O.z got to go to prom with his dates. Hopefully, he can find some new ones by next year, though. He's not going to be able to ask them out again.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Maybe either Brian or Damien (Monster Prom) pred prompts?

I will do both! Because both are good.

B.rian blinks a few times after coming to. He rubs his head slowly with a groan. It takes him a second to remember what happened, but his bulging, sloshing guts sure help with that. He'd been hanging out with S.cott and his wolfpack when...he'd gotten really hungry. And zombie hunger is no joke. Seeing all that beefy meat around him while he was like that meant things were really only going to end one way, too. S.cott had left to get him some lunch but B.rian just couldn't wait. Werewolf strength apparently doesn't mean much compared to hungry zombie strength. A nasty belch escapes B.rian, his breath stinking of old meat and wet dog. Honestly not the worst it's ever smelled, really. He rubs over his gut lazily, pressing down on someone's face. He can still taste werewolf jock meat on his breath..and it's pretty damn good. He kind of wishes he was more aware of himself when he downed the whole pack. His guts burble and churn noisily, practically drowning out the howls of the melting werewolves inside. But another delicious scent catches the zombie's attention and he looks over to see S.cott returning with some fast food. He drools watching his friend come over, but it's not burgers he has a taste for. The bag is left discarded on the ground as B.rian casually slurps down S.cott's kicking legs, sending the delicious hunk of meat down to stew with his pack. B.rian lays back in the grass again, blasting off another meaty belch. They're really thrashing around in there now. B.rian can practically feel their muscular bodies breaking down in his guts. He's sure they understand, though. Werewolf hunger can be pretty nasty from what he's seen. It just seems like zombie hunger wins out. B.rian gives the side of his gut a few dull pats and sighs contently. Werewolf is going right to the top of the menu from now on.

"That's right, squirm around for me! Feels fucking good!" D.amien grins, leaning back in his chair with his red stomach bloated out in front of him. He got stuck doing a group project he didn't care about with a bunch of guys he didn't care about. The math from there is easy--have some fun with it. And he sure is. Watching his gut slosh back and forth, bulges pushing and shoving around as his meal desperately tries to escape his gut--it's great fun! He belches thickly, a bit of fire shooting from his jaws. His gut groan and churn noisily. Demon stomachs are hotter than hell, and he gives this guy another minute tops before he's melted down into a thick sludge. "C'mon, you don't wanna die in there, do you? I'll letcha do my half of the project if you survive!" Not exactly an enticing offer, but his meal clearly wanted to live either way. That's what made this so far. His stomach boils and bubbles, a few screams echoing from his tank. A steaming belch escapes him and his stomach rounds out with a wet slosh and shrinks a couple inches. Same things that happened to the last three guys he sent down there, and now the whole group is little more than a bubbling monster stew in D.amien's guts. He pokes it a few times and grins wide. "Ah well, guess I'll just have to tell teach you guys all ditched me and wouldn't pull your weight. That'll at least get me a passing grade! And I'll be sure to 'pass' you guys, too." He pats his stomach a few times, belching up another flame. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms behind his head while he listens to his guts churn and groan. Definitely the most fun he's ever had on a group project. He'll have to do it again some time.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Scott M/onster P/rom please! Just a lot of him being a big sexy himbo, underestimating how powerful his body is whenever he puts someone in the tank. He's always real sorry, but they just tasted so good! And besides, if they wanted him so bad, now they're literally part of him so win win

More S.cott, more S.cott, more S.cott!

When S.cott had several people all ask him to prom on the same day, he really wasn't sure what to do about it. Can someone take a bunch of dates to prom at once? That seems to be again...prom code or something. But he doesn't want to have to turn any of them down, either! He had to wrack his brain as hard as he could to try and find a solution that'll leave everyone happy...and then it finally dawned on him.

B.rian sighs as he waits outside the gym. S.cott had told him to meet him there and prom started almost twenty minutes ago. He has no idea what the werewolf is doing that's making him take so long but he's starting to suspect he got dumped. The zombie turns to bail only to walk right into a large, furry gut that knocks him back onto his ass.

"B.rian!" S.cott grins wide, showing off his fangs while his tail wags excitedly. The werewolf is wearing his light blue suit, but the jacket and shit are left unbuttoned, exposing his furry chest and--more notably--his large, furry gut. "Sorry I'm late, collecting all my dates took more time than I thought."

"Uh...what--" B.rian isn't even sure he's processing all of this right. Everyone knows that the werewolf has always had a healthy appetite, and he's definitely been the cause of a few missing students, but this is...

"It's my genius plan!" S.cott explains. "Since I got so many people wanting to be my date to the prom, and I could only bring in one guy with me, I decided to smuggle the rest!" he grins, smacking his gut a few times as it sloshes back and forth. It's got at least four of five other men inside--B.rian finds it a bit hard to tell with how much they're squirming--and is currently bouncing and sloshing around on its own thanks to being so full.

"...so I'm the one you're walking inside with?" B.rian asks, looking up from that gut to meet S.cott's eyes.

"Exactly! Just don't tell anyone I brought all six dates, okay? They might throw us out."

"Uh...yeah, sure." B.rian is fairly certain they wouldn't do that but...well, it's too late to worry about all those extra dates. He's never seen anything get back out of S.cott's jaws once it's been guzzled down.

After being hoisted back to his feet by S.cott, B.rian heads into prom with the werewolf. All in all, it's really not one of his worst prom nights. Sure, S.cott keeps getting distracted trying to include all of his dates in their conversations--it doesn't go very well, nearly anything they say too muffled to be heard, and the things they are saying not very relevant to the conversation--but B.rian has definitely had worse dates. He got so used to the werewolf and his massive gut that it took him a while to realize it wasn't making as much noise as before.

"Hey, S.cott, when were you planning to let them out?" B.rian asks, gesturing to the werewolf's stomach.

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" S.cott looks down at his gut, pushing down on it with one hand. It sloshes wetly and his hand sinks in deep. "Hey, guys, I got us in! You still want out?"

"S.cot, I think they're--" B.rian is cut off by the werewolf letting out a massive belch right in his face. The stink of meat and werewolf breath sit heavy in the air now. "...dead."

"Oh..." S.cott looks down at his gut again, slowly running his hand along it as if feeling for any signs of life. He looks back up at B.rian and smiles. "Well, they still got into prom, right? So I'm sure it's not too bad!"

"...right..." The zombie stares at S.cott's gut as it gurgles and churns, steadily processing all that meat he fed it tonight. He's suddenly pretty grateful to have been left standing at the door for twenty minutes. At least he'll get to live to see next year's prom. Can't say the same for those guys...

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

fuuuck that monster prom story was good, i love the anon that asked that. any chance we can get some prompts about alt endings for different winners?

Yeah, I got some good ideas for that! I'll write something for the four guys that lost.

L.iam let out a sickly belch, his face almost as green as B.rian's is...was. He ate the zombie first and he really doubts the poor guy held up well in his stomach. Even if he didn't eat like this often, he knew his gut could process live meat. Er. Un-alive meat. It's not like he wanted to do this, but when the zombie started looming over him in an effort to win some stupid eating contest he didn't want to be in, he had to do something! B.rian went down kind of hard. And then S.cott had to follow. And then D.amien. And C.alculestor made him eat O.z so he ate the robot and now...well, now he's stuck with an engorged stomach trying its best to churn up five times the meat he's used to eating. He belches again and groans, resting his chin on his stomach. He really hates it when he's dragged into stuff like this...but he supposes he won't have to worry about that anymore. What he will have to worry about is the fact that his usually lithe frame is going to be over encumbered with a lot of new heft. He's going to need a whole new wardrobe after this! All for a competition he didn't want to be in! Another massive belch booms out of him and his guts churn wetly, something softening inside. Another meal down. But he's going to be here for hours...he can't even get any art done like this. He just hopes they're all happy with themselves.

D.amien laughs, pressing down on a face bulging out his gut with a mighty belch. "I told you all I could do it! This was nothing!" In truth, normal food upset the demon's gut in higher quantities and he had tapped out pretty early in their eating contest. What didn't upset the demon's gut was live, squirming meat--he could eat as much of that as he wants and handle it like a champ! So, realizing that the only way he was actually going to win was just that, he stuffed all five guys down his gullet. Now his gut was bloated out in front of him with the guys still kicking around and leaving him as the official victor of their contest! And his gut was only just getting fired up. The guys in there had maybe twenty minutes of squirming left for them before the furnace he called a stomach roared to life and snuffed them out with ease. Even that robot was going to melt away in his gut! And sure, he was going to get fat as hell, but he was going to be more than happy to show off the gut he was going to gain off of this. A perfect way to show his victory off!

"W-Was this really necessary..?" O.z murmurs to his churning stomach. He wasn't exactly the heaviest eater--that award obviously went to S.cott and B.rian. But those two were churning into slop in his stomach now if they weren't already, along with the other three guys that had joined in on the eating contest, so maybe that did leave him as the heaviest eater now. And it wasn't like O.z couldn't eat this much and more with ease, he just...didn't really like to. But the contest got a little...intense thanks to C.alculaestor's rules and O.z panicked when he thought someone was reaching to eat him, so he struck first. And then he panicked more and started devouring the others one by one until...well, here he is, back stomach bloated out heavily as it churned up his friends without a care in the world. And not only was he going to end up digesting all of his friends, but he could already feel his clothes getting tighter. At this rate, he's going to have to get an entirely new wardrobe just to handle all the new weight they were going to be giving him. God, this is so embarrassing. He really doesn't feel like a winner right now.

S.cott's tail was wagging like crazy, a fanged grin on his face as he pushes down on his gut. A sloppy belch rumbles out of the werewolf and he slurps over his teeth with glee. He was just so happy to have been able to win! It always felt good to win and get some praise for it, which B.rian had offered him before he devoured the zombie. The rule about being able to eat each other had made S.cott pounce on a couple of the guys and snarf them down and by now they were more of a churning sludge in his stomach than classmates and friends. The zombie had been the only one left when a partially-digested C.alculatesor reminded the werewolf that he had to eat everything to win. So his belly-rubbing, head-patting praiser ended up being an impromptu snack that melted down rather quickly in his ruthless stomach. Another sloppy belch rumbles out of the werewolf. He wishes he still had someone around to rub his gut, but knowing he did such a good job in the contest still left him happy! Plus, he was going to get some great bulk out of all of this.