This is a quick little "mini-story" I whipped up the other day on a whim. It's kinky, silly, weird, and relatively short. It features My Sworn King, Leona, and is written from the POV of the Prefect as his S/O, like most of my stories featuring him.
WARNING: CONTAINS RUMP-RELATED SHENANIGANS, IMPLIED VORE AND STUFFING, BELCHING, SODA CHUGGING, AND GENERAL INSANITY. DON'T LIKE? NOT 18+? DON'T READ.
“GWWWWUUUUUYYYYUUUUURRRRRRLLLLLLLP! Ahhh…felt good comin’ up…”
You blushed bright red, but couldn’t help but fan your face and crinkle your nose at the sour-sweet smell that now hung in the air.
“Yeesh…you oughta warn people when you let one of those out. Seriously, your gut should come with a warning label…”
Your boyfriend just smirked lazily…to be fair, “lazily” described so much of him in general. From the way his lips curled in a sultry, superior fashion, to the smoldering look in his half-lidded, glowing green eyes, to the way his tail swished behind him, and even to the way he leaned back against the wall as the two of you watched the sunset from a spot near the training field of Savanaclaw Dorm.
Everything about Leona Kingscholar seemed lazy, at ease, and thoroughly in control, almost no matter what he did. It was part of what made him so gorgeous.
“Heh…don’t act like you don’t love it,” he teased, winking his scarred eye in your direction. “Kinky li’l Herbivore. I can see those nostrils flarin’.”
You quickly covered your nose and mouth with your hands, which just made Leona snort and roll his eyes.
“Tch. You act like such a cub sometimes,” he muttered, and swished the fizzing soda pop in a can he held with a slight turn of his gloved wrist. He then lifted the can up to his face and began to drink from it. You could hear the sound of him gulping it down, mouthful by mouthful…see the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his beautiful neck as he swilled it along through his esophagus, sending the bubbling, sugary concoction down into his stomach.
Almost unconsciously, your eyes wandered to peer at his belly…part of his waist and hip exposed by the odd angle of his loose-fitting mustard-hued shirt and the fit of his pants. You fancied you could even hear the way the soda foamed and sloshed as it was swirled about in that stomach…your mind immediately conjuring images of yourself being spun about, squelched between the gut walls…his little mouse…his little snack…
You tried to shake such thoughts away, but Leona just smirked wider as he noticed the way you stared before quickly peeling your gaze away. Silently, wordlessly, he pinched the edge of his shirt…and lifted it up, exposing his ribbed abdomen. He ran his fingers along his six pack, purring serenely…waiting till you turned and ogled him once again.
“I brought you out here to see the sunset,” he said, in a soft, sly way. “But I think you find this…”
He patted his belly.
“...Much more interesting. Heh. I’m kinda flattered…”
You blushed. It took you a moment to respond, as you nervously fidgeted your fingers around your own can of soda.
“Y-Yeah, well…if you weren’t such a showoff, it would be easier to focus on the horizon.”
Leona just smiled wider. The tips of his sharp, white teeth now flickered in the fading daylight. He chuckled and finished off his soda, then belched again and scratched his stomach.
“BLLLLUUUURRRRRLLLLLGP…phew…damn, that was a deep one,” he mumbled, wiping his jowls on the back of one tattooed arm. “I could actually feel it bubbling in my gut…”
You bit your lip, blushing even more. You glanced between the lion and the soda you, yourself, carried. You had almost a full can left.
You weren’t sure why…but suddenly, impulsively, you threw your head back…and - GLUG, GLUG, GLUG - began to chug down your drink. Your brow knitted and you groaned slightly between gollops as you swallowed it as fast as you could. You could actually feel the gases building inside your own belly, which let out an almost rebellious bellow, not used to you feeding it so much carbonation so quickly.
Leona’s eyes widened slightly, and his smile fell, as he watched you with some interest. Then, he nearly jolted as you pulled away the can from your lips…gasped…and then…
“BWWWAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOUUUUUUUURRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUP!”
You panted as the unusually gigantic belch left your body. You were VERY red in the face as you gave Leona a weak but defiant sort of smile. He simply looked at you with absolute amazement, clearly stunned.
“Well?” you checked, as you finally caught your breath, a little flicker of anxiety in your eyes. “How was that, Mr. Gas Giant, huh?”
Leona blinked three times…then his expression cooled. An amused, affectionate sort of look came to his face, and he chuckled aloud, the sound clucking in his throat.
“Gotta admit, Herbivore, that was impressive,” he said, honestly, and offered a slow clap. “I’ll make a real animal outta you yet, if yer gonna start lettin’ roars like that rip.”
You couldn’t help but feel a sort of crude, infantile pride at his praise, and held your head high as you puffed out your chest and crushed the now empty soda can in one hand. In typical expectation, the center of the can was now pressed flat, while the top and the bottom retained their cylindrical rotundity, giving it a sort of hourglass shape.
Your smile soon fell, however, when - after doing so - Leona looked at the can in your hand and smirked wider, a slightly devious expression upon his sharp, tanned face. He pointed to the crushed soda container in your grip.
“That the best you got?” he asked.
You looked at the can, then back up at him…and frowned.
“Why?” was all you asked, slowly and cautiously.
Leona just snorted softly through his nose - like a lion chuffing at their mate’s affections - and rolled his eyes before positioning his own empty can between his two hands. At first, it seemed he was about to flatten it between his palms like a pile-driver…
…Then, he paused, and a lightbulb seemed to go off over his head. His rope-like tail switched upwards and curved into a question mark shape…and he laughed softly, almost ominously.
Not sure what he was up to, all you could do was watch…and your eyes widened as he moved himself around, teasingly bending over a bit…his plush, plump, fat bottom now plainly visible. He petted one of his soft, thick cheeks with one hand through the fabric of his denim jeans…then his voice slithered into your ears…
“We still alone?” he whispered, in a dulcet way.
You gulped nervously, glanced about carefully, then nodded to indicate you were.
“Good,” Leona winked…and then cautiously moved the hem of his pants down, underwear and all. Now, his wobbling cheeks overflowed past his trousers, mooning you as day changed to twilight.
You felt the breath hitch in your chest…and your heart seemed to skip a beat as Leona calmly, almost casually, pressed his own empty soda can riiiiight between his cheeks, nestling it into the musky canyon of his gluteus maximus.
He then closed his eyes, as if focusing…and…
KRRRRNNNNCH!
With a growl, a grunt, and a FLEX of those fat ass cheeks…the can was flattened like pancake, till it was practically no thicker than a piece of aluminum foil.
Leona sighed, and pulled the flattened can free, before flipping the seat of his pants back into place and smirking wider than ever as he faced you, the ex-soda-container dangling between two fingers as he playfully wiggled it around.
“Can’t top that, can you?” he taunted.
All you could do was squeak in response.
Leona laughed louder, grinning from ear to ear…then reached out and cupped your cheek as he leaned towards you. His hot breath steamed over your face as he spoke in a seductive, smoky sort of way.
“I think you’ve got much, MUCH more important things to look at than the sunset, Herbivore. I’ll give you a REAL close look in my room, if you like.”
You were trembling.
“...And…in r-return?” you peeped, knowing he never did favors for free.
Leona licked his lips in response.
“Mmmm...maybe you can give me something more FILLING than soda. I need something with more…”
He gave your cheeks a slight squeeze and visibly began to drool.
“...Meat. If you’re very good, I might even not eat YOU, on top of it all. Deal?”
Oh, you could NOT pass up a chance like that, and the way your smile went loopy and lopsided indicated that before you even offered verbal agreement.
“Good pet,” Leona cooed, smugly, and led you away towards his personal room. “C’mon, Herbivore…you’ve got some food to prepare…and I’ve got a cushion to sit on while I eat it…”
You were amazed you were able to keep walking after that, your legs felt so wobbly. Leona laughed louder than ever at the frankly goofy look on your face.
“Jeeze, you’re a weirdo,” he taunted. “You’re lucky I like you, and I hope you know that.”
You blinked twice…then, your goofy expression changed…and you leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.
Leona froze stiff. He stared at you. His smile evaporated in an instant.
You smiled back, sincerely, but also somewhat sneakily.
“The feeling is mutual,” was all you said.
Leona blinked…then he growled, grouchily, and scoffed, rolling his eyes and ruffling your hair untidily.
“Don’t gotta be a sap about it,” he grumbled.
All you could do was giggle and grin.
You’d noticed how HE was the one blushing this time.
“And that’s a win for the home team,” you whispered to yourself.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, Leona. Nothing at all.”
Let's see if some beautiful, big boi (or gal, if it's an odd day) decides to make me more of their mass or flatten me 'neath their ass before then. :P
Anyway, well-wishes are welcome, gifts are appreciated but obviously not demanded, etc. Also, might reopen Rump Rankings in the near future, we shall see. (Shrugs)
SO...I was idly browsing around on the-site-formerly-known-as-Twitter (I rarely go there, for various and probably obvious reasons), and I discovered a post someone made asking who had the biggest "cake" between these two lads from Twisted Wonderland...
...I was rather delighted to discover that even major Malleus fans, apparently, tended to vote for the lazy lion having the fatter booty.
My love of his rump continues to be validated. Much to my amusement, no less. XD
Saw that someone mentioned Seth Lowell from ZZZ and oooh boy they weren’t kidding about him having cake… considering that he’s a police officer, I wouldn’t be surprised if he might shove a shrunken criminal or two back there while he transports them back to a regular prison…
Ho-Hooooooo, Nelly! O////O
I'll need to look into the character to determine full capacity for kinky goodness, but...I am officially intrigued.
Consider: Leona laying on his belly in his room, casually reading a book… ignoring the muffled whimpers coming from behind him: a person, their face buried in his rear, held down by Leona’s belt wrapped around his pelvis, keeping their face strapped in place, weakly pawing at the leonine prince’s thighs as they try to escape their suffocating punishment for accidentally waking Leona up…
And if he dozes off before he can remove their bindings… sucks to be them, I guess.
My response to this is both profound and meangingful: Meeeeeeeeep. O////O
What do you think each of the Savanaclaw trio might say to an unwilling tiny who had been trapped in their cleft, and managed to wiggle their head free before getting shoved back into place?
LEONA: (grunts and glances back...then smirks) Heh...you've got more stamina than I expected, little mouse. I'd respect that if you weren't so tiny and pathetic. And who said you could breathe fresh air again? (reaches back and presses with one finger) Get back in there...and keep squirmin', runt. It feels amazin'. (sloooowly pushes them in and lets out a rumble of pleasure as he pats his butt and continues on his way, hips rocking and swaying)
RUGGIE: Huh? Awwww...shishishishi! What's the matter? Does the wittle herbivore not like being trapped back there during sports practice? Is it too tight and sweaty for ya, huh? Well, too bad. You don't get to leave till I get back to my room tonight. Now, behave yourself, or when I have dinner, you're gonna become part o' my butt. So...(pops them back into place with one finger)...boop! Theeere ya go...shishishishi!
JACK: A-AH?! Ugh...you stink...though I guess that's not YOUR fault. Hey! I can't have you poppin' out like that, there are people around here...n-not that I care if they see! Nope. I'm just puttin' you in your place. Yeah. It's just...well. It's gonna be kinda distracting to ME if they point it out. So, uh...(grunts and flexes his cheeks)...mph...c'mon...Get. Back. IN! (sighs as he manages to work them back into place, and adjusts his pants, blushing bright red)...Well, that was embarrassing...gotta keep better track of that...try squirmin' around a little less, okay? (huffs...but can't stop his tail wagging as he moves on)
I hope all that satisfies you, Anon, best I could do spur of the moment. XD
How would you say tails are accounted for with the pants of beastmen in the TW universe? Do you think it might weaken their structural integrity? Perhaps some of our faves have had problems with the seat of their trousers giving out?
If you're asking, "how do people with tails wear pants?" for that first part, we actually do have an answer to that in-universe.
In these images with Jack, it appears that the way pants are made for such things are by creating a slit in the back of the pants for the tail to go through.
Now, of course, it's entirely possible not EVERY pair of pants is made this way. Some might be buttoned with a flap, or the tail might actually poke OVER the waistband, but since this is the only VISIBLE evidence we have of how trousers work for folks with tails, it's best to presume this is the most typical manner available.
In terms of "structural integrity," I frankly don't know enough about clothing and stitching and so forth to tell you how much this would compromise things at all. What I CAN say is that, with how long beastmen seem to have been commonplace in the universe of TW, I can only presume that the creation of such garments is a long-practiced one, so I would imagine any such things would be worked out at some point or another for the sake of polite society. I will also remind you that this is a world of magic, so it's entirely possible that magical influence could be used to assist with such a thing.
WITH ALL THAT SAID...I will always, ALWAYS love the idea of Leona or Azul or some other character accidentally tearing their pants because their trouser bottoms just cannot handle those big, bodacious booties anymore. Even the most soundly-made pants, after all, have their breaking point. >///>
I believe this is the art of Hugo that anon was talking about! The one with the gradient background is the current one, the one with the white background is the updated one!
...I feel I might have answered this already, from someone else, but...yyyyyup, I see the difference, and it is...quite...interesting. Ahem. >///>
