S.ans eating A.sgore
Got three requests from the same person in a submission asking for similar themes (unwilling, OV, weight gain, disposal), so they're getting separate posts! (They would have gotten separate posts anyway, I made them all a bit long cause I got really into them)
A.sgore makes his way into the hall of judgement. He was asked to come here by the Judge, though he’s not sure why. He didn’t get any specifics, but he assumes if he’s being requested, it must be something important. So he walks down the empty, gilded halls, his heavy footsteps echoing through them.
Suddenly, A.sgore senses a presence behind himself. He perks up a bit and looks over his shoulder to see the much smaller skeleton standing there. There hadn’t been anywhere for him to hide and yet he showed up despite that.
“Howdy, S.ans,” A.sgore greets with a smile. “You called me, yes? Was it something important?”
“Yeah, I just needed ya real quick,” S.ans says with his usual casual smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Paps has been making nothing but spaghetti for the last month and Grillbz is gettin’ cranky about the tab, so I gotta get some dinner from somewhere else.”
A.sgore tilts his head at that and his smile softens. “Oh, is that so? Well, I may not be the best chef, but I could definitely whip us up something nice to eat!”
“Ah, that’s real nice of ya, Kingy, but--” S.ans pauses when a low, whining growl echoes from his stomach. “--hah, hear that? Poor thing can’t wait another second! So...real sorry ‘bout this.” S.ans lifts a hand up to point at A.sgore, who seems mostly confused. The king’s soul is brought out and it goes from white to blue, immediately slamming the goat down to the ground.
“Agh!” A.sgore winces, trying and failing to move himself. It feels like gravity has suddenly changed and he’s become too heavy. “S-S.ans, what is the meaning of this? What did you do?!”
“Nothin’,” S.ans says with a shrug. “You’re just blue now.” He walks forward, closing the small gap between him and the king. He grabs A.sgore by one of his horns, his stomach growling loudly again right in the goat’s face. “I’m just gonna have a quick snack. You seem good and filling, so no hard feelings.”
Before A.sgore can even ask what’s going on, S.ans’s jaws open up wide before him. A softly glowing blue magic makes up the internals the skeleton normally lacks...revealing the dark, tight, slimy pit the king is about to squeeze down. It leaves A.sgore stunned in a mix of fear and shock, so he says and does nothing as S.ans’s maw presses into his face and envelops his head.
The skeleton gives a pleased groan, his tongue slurping over A.sgore’s face a few times. He’s just happy to be tasting anything that isn’t pasta right now, and big, fluffy goat king is definitely a very unique flavor in comparison. He moves his hands to A.sgore’s upper arms now, keeping a lazy grip as he takes the first hard, wet swallow.
GLLLUNK!
A.sgore finally starts to panic, but by then, it’s a little too late. His head is bulging out S.ans’s gullet as his shoulders squeeze into the drooling maw. His screams are muffled well, not that anyone is around to hear them. And he can’t struggle while he’s being held by the other monster’s magic. He’s completely at S.ans’s mercy.
GLLLLK!
Another thick gulp surges A.sgore deeper, his chest sliding in now. S.ans would have preferred getting to the meaty center, but he didn’t want to spend too much time stalling on his meal. Can’t have someone coming by or A.sgore somehow overpowering him. The taste isn’t as bad as he’d have thought anyway, and he’s certain his stomach will be able to handle all of this just fine.
Speaking of which, S.ans’s gut lets out a low, demanding growl. A.sgore’s face is already pressed up against the sphincter for it, the staggering height difference between the two monsters making for a quick trip into the gut. S.ans’s hands move down to A.sgore’s waist so he can gulp and slurp again, dragging down the king’s stomach and stopping at his hips.
GLLLLRK! SHLLLLLRP!
A pleased burble escapes S.ans’s middle as A.sgore’s head pushes inside. It stretches a bit, his shirt riding up slightly, exposing more of the blue magic he’s used to form his insides. It’s just translucent enough for A.sgore to make out his lower body hanging from S.ans’s jaws, and S.ans would likely be able to see the panic on the king’s face if not for the goat ass he’s working past his teeth blocking his view.
S.ans tips his head back, his tongue sneaking out to curl around A.sgore’s crotch as he helps guide the man’s hips down the hatch. Then it’s just those thick legs left, which are plenty easy to slowly slurp down like noodles. Heh...noodles...as if S.ans hasn’t grown sick of those.
SHLLLLLLLLLLLRP!
The space is growing more cramped and uncomfortable for A.sgore, his bulky body stretching out the walls as he spills in. It just makes S.ans’s stomach retaliate by trying to clench down harder on him and force him into a more manageable ball of meat. He kicks his feet a little, feeling the cool air of the hallway being replaced with the steaming breath of the skeleton. S.ans’s tongue drags his feet in and with a final gulp...they’re gone.
GLLL-LURP!
S.ans sighs deeply, a small shiver running through him as he feels the last of A.sgore squeeze into his stomach. It’s stretched out tight before him, big enough that it’s resting on the ground and is nearly as tall as he is. A.sgore is curled up real tight, his armor and horns making for some very distinct bulges in S.ans’s middle. The two of them are practically eye-to-eye now with A.sgore’s face pressed into his knees.
The magic that had been holding A.sgore down dissipates, but it’s only a marginal difference to the king. The stomach walls are so tight and restrictive, he can barely move anyway. Any attempts to stretch out his arms or legs or even lift his head up more is met with a forceful squeeze that puts him back into place.
“BWWWWWWAAAAAAARRRRRRPP!!!” A harsh belch escapes S.ans, a bit of white fluff coming up with it. The thumps his chest as the sound dies off and slurps over his teeth. “That’s better. Just what I needed, a feast fit for a king.” S.ans pats the side of his stomach a few times, feeling it rumble and gurgle as it settles in to start processing all of that goat meat. “Thanks for the help.”
“S-S.ans!” A.sgore’s voice is muffled a bit, but with his face nearly pressed into S.ans’s, the skeleton can at least hear him. “What’s the meaning of this?! Let me out of here at once!” He’s trying to use his authoritative king voice, but it cracks a few times, his ill-hidden fear seeping through.
“Like I said, I just needed some dinner. And I’ve heard that goat meat is pretty classy stuff.” Despite the immense size difference between them, S.ans is able to heft up his gut in his arms just enough to lift it off the ground like it’s nothing. He starts waddling down the hall, gently sloshing A.sgore back and forth as he does. “And now...mmf...I’m going to spend the rest of my shift relaxing in your big, fancy chair.”
A.sgore lets out a distressed cry as he’s being sloshed back and forth now. S.ans easily could have just teleported wherever it was he wanted to go, and he normally would have, but the chance to tease the king with a short walk back to his own throne was too good to pass up. He didn’t really have anything against A.sgore, no real grudges and the like, but he was the biggest meal S.ans could think of that he could also easily get alone. And he’d been right!
The whole way back, A.sgore keeps shouting for help and demanding release. But there’s no one around to hear him besides S.ans, who responds to it all by just giving some wet belches or cracking a joke at the king’s expense. Eventually, S.ans has made it to the throne room. He casually walks through the flower garden, the bottom of his gut being tickled by the petals, until he finally reaches his prize.
With a very long, drawn out sigh, S.ans sits down in A.sgore’s throne and sits back in it. He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head, his gut sloshing into his lap and filling up more of the large throne himself. “Oh yeah...I knew a chair this big had to be comfy. Perfect place to kick back.”
“I-Is that what you wanted? To sit on the throne?!” A.sgore shouts. At this point, he’s getting notably more desperate. All the sloshing around has soaked him to the point he can feel it seeping through his armor. The stomach has gotten a lot noisier, too, groaning and gurgling thickly around him. And the stomach walls keep clenching over him, as if impatient he’s not yet softened. “You can sit there all you like then! Take it home if you want! Just let me out!”
S.ans chuckles softly and gives a lazy “Uuuurrrrrp!” to the air. “Oh, nah, I like my couch just fine. Has a nice butt groove in it I’ve been working on. I think your fluffybuns make for one a bit too big compared to mine.”
“Then...Then what do you want?!” A.sgore demands. The stomach walls squeeze over him again, getting a groan from him as he’s forced into a slightly tighter ball. He tries to lift his head, his horns and face making S.ans’s stomach stretch out tightly over them. A.sgore’s distress is written all over his face...or at least the bulge it’s making. “There...must be something..!”
“Yeah, I guess there is,” S.ans says with a lazy shrug. He opens one eye to look at A.sgore as he feels the goat shifting around inside. “I want some peace and quiet while I take a nap, kay? Digesting all of this goat meat is exhausting work you know.” S.ans clenches his stomach, making A.sgore shout as he’s forced back into position, and it works out a big “BWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLCCCCHHH!!!!!!” that sends A.sgore’s crown flying off into the air.
“S.ans, th-this...joke of yours has...gone on long enough!” A.sgore wheezes. It’s getting too tight and whether it’s his panic or the constriction, he’s finding it harder to get his words out. “Just...Just let me out...a-and we can pretend this never happened!” A.sgore waits for some kind of response other than the thick burbles of the skeleton’s gut. The silence is making him nervous. “S-S.ans?”
...a snore finally answers the king. S.ans is fast asleep, taking that nap he said he wanted. Panic finally takes full control of A.sgore as he begins screaming as much as he can, hoping someone will be close enough to hear him. He tries to stretch out again and take back as much space as he can, bulges of his paws and horns shifting along the blue stomach. But even in his sleep, S.ans’s gut works hard, and each shove from A.sgore is met with a tight clench in return.
It was a losing battle. A.sgore had no room to move, no way out, and was simply stuck resisting for as long as he could. But S.ans’s stomach might just be the hardest working part of himself, and it never relents. Every time A.sgore tries to fight back, it feels like the stomach is just getting stronger against him. He’s too hot, he realizes. His fur feels like a smothering blanket and his armor is cooking him. He’s digesting.
A.sgore’s energy is rapidly waning after barely an hour, his screams hoarse and weak and his struggles much more meek and pathetic. He’s left panting and gasping more of the time, the air inside of S.ans’s gut unpleasant and the tight space making it hard to take a proper breath. He’s curled up into a very tight ball, head between his knees, and the walls are too tight to get out of that position. His entire body is burning with exhaustion and discomfort. And worse yet...at this point, he’s certain he’s seen a lot of his fur sticking to his own clothes and the walls around him. It’s definitely been thick on S.ans’s breath every time the skeleton lets out a nasty belch above him.
A deep, bubbling groan rumbles out of S.ans’s gut all around A.sgore. The sounds are incredibly loud and thick. At this point, even if he tried to yell, he doubts he’d be heard well above it all. The walls squeeze him again with a wet squelch. A.sgore winces and closes his eyes tightly. He doesn’t have the energy to keep up anymore. Is this really how it ends for him..?
As if sensing A.sgore’s defeat, S.ans’s gut suddenly clenches in hard. It gets a shocked scream from the king as a wet crunching and crackling sound bubbles up. His body is falling apart on him after becoming so weak, and the skeleton’s gut is eager to crack through the armor and claim its prize. Although it’s the goat’s body that’s cracking right now...
Another clench, followed by a wet squelch and a weak groan from A.sgore. The king is getting hazy in there, and the shocks of pain he’s getting from the rougher treatment cuts into numbness soon after. His arm was the first to go. Now he can’t feel his legs. There’s a thick, bubbling slop churning and squelching all around him, coming up to his stomach and surging higher with every clench. It’s full of white fur and, though he has a hard time telling, at least one piece of armor that should still be attached to him but no longer is.
The walls squeeze down again, A.sgore crying out weakly as he feels his back pop and his good arm twist. He can’t feel below the elbow now. The sludge is up to his chest and he can feel it seeping through the cracks of his armor, coating his body. The king pants and shudders, trying and failing to make any part of himself respond and move. He knows what’s wrong but he doesn’t want to believe it.
“HWWWWWWWWOOOOOOUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPP!!!!!!!” A sloppy belch roars out of S.ans, who seems to still be sleeping. It makes the stomach clamp down hard on A.sgore, his yell muffled by the slurry surging up and over his face for a few seconds. He’s instead coughing and sputtering. His head feels lopsided now. He thinks one of his horns snapped off.
“S...S.ans...” A.sgore gasps out weakly. “P-Please...let me...out...” He’s not sure if the skeleton can hear him. It doesn’t matter. He’s too weak to try anything else beyond pleading for his life. “I...I don’t...want to...d--Glllrbbb!” A.sgore’s final words are cut off by a hard shove on the top of his head that plunges him under the boiling mire he’s been stewing in.
Only the top of his head and his remaining horn stick out, bubbles rising and popping a bit faster for a few moments. Then A.sgore’s body shudders a few times and the bubbling slows down again until, finally, going back to normal. S.ans sighs contently and lifts his hand from his stomach, watching it slosh and wobble back into the orb shape its taken. “Figured you’d be gone by the time I woke up but guess I was wrong. Least I got to say good--BUUUUURRRP!” A short, bubbling belch catches S.ans by surprise, A.sgore’s last breath passing him teeth.
His stomach clenches down for the last time, now filled top to bottom with nothing but boiling sludge. His semi-transparent stomach has taken on a very murky color because of it, the occasional bone or piece of armor being visible when it presses up against the stomach walls before the churning slop sucks it back in. Whatever solid bits of A.sgore remain won’t be like that for long now.
The sounds of S.ans’s stomach echo through the throne room, heavy and wet with how sloppy the contents have gotten. S.ans’s stomach is still massive with all the goat slop inside, and the bottom of it is bulging heavily with various bones and armor pieces weighing it down. It only took a couple of hours max to reduce one of the strongest monsters in the Underground into nothing but a thick nutrient slurry. And now that A.sgore is in a much more manageable state, he can start chugging deeper.
A pleased groan rumbles out of S.ans, who tips his head back a bit and presses his hands down into his stomach. It squishes under his fingers, sloshing and wobbling at every little disturbance. This was just what he needed, something big and filling and delicious to eat. Not that he doesn’t love his brother’s cooking or going to Grillby’s all the time...but even S.ans can only take so much. His stomach sounds just as happy as he does as it pumps gallons of A.sgore slop deeper into his intestines.
S.ans’s stomach shrinks back several inches intermittently as more of A.sgore pumps through him. He can practically feel the swell of his intestines as it takes on all of that slurry. And as it pumps deeper, the muck grows denser and more compact, and S.ans begins to get thick from all the compounding weight. His stomach grows softer and heavier, sagging with new heft, and his chest gets softer and bigger. His arms and thighs grow thicker and wider, filling out his normally baggy clothes more. And his ass is growing much rounder, filling out the throne more properly as it does.
The thick chugging sounds steadily get softer and quieter after some time. S.ans’s gut stopped shrinking a little bit ago, and he can feel the last of A.sgore draining through his intestines. His shirt is definitely too small now, stretched tight over his torso and riding halfway up his gut, constantly showing off the blue magic. He gives the sides of his stomach a few soft rubs then pats it, making the whole thing wobble.
A deep, low grumble rises out of S.ans’s stomach and he winces slightly. A very heavy pressure has built up inside of him and it’s getting uncomfortable. “Alright, can’t deny the king what he wants. I’ll letcha out now.” S.ans grunts as he gets up, feeling all of the new weight on his frame. But it’s a different weight that’s distracting him. He pulls down on his shorts, having to wiggle his hips to get the now tight waistband down. His much fatter ass wobbles as it gets freed and he squats down in front of the throne.
A bassy fart rumbles out of S.ans, making him wave the air away. “Y’know, that sound is supposed to happen after I sit down.” Instead of laughter or applause for his joke, S.ans’s guts grumble loudly. He feels a heavy weight shift deep inside of him and being to spread him out.
S.ans shudders and groans as a thick, dense log of shit begins to squeeze out of him. All that king meat packed up real tight, especially thanks to all that tough armor he had been wearing. Though…it’s not nearly as shining anymore. One of his arm braces comes out in the first log, browned and muddy in sheen with the shot baked around it. One of A.sgore’s arms is still in the brace and bits of white fur pepper around the muck as well.
The log lands with a soft thud on the throne, the air becoming rancid now. S.ans huffs softly and closes his eyes as he strains over another thick log. A.sgore steadily squeezes out of him like that, his armor pieces keeping a good portion of his body together and in each log.
One of his legs comes out, twice as long as the arm. It’s followed by the other leg and the pelvis soon after. Next comes half his other arm, the ruined cape tattered and stained as it’s wrapped around the log and caught on a broken horn.
The throne is already filled up with shit, the logs heaped on top of each other to take up the seat. S.ans groans loudly as another big log stretches him out, A.sgore’s chest plate coming out with his ribs and upper half of an arm buried in it. His stomach was especially unkind to this piece, the chest play center and warped from the crushing stomach walls. But it’s still big enough to make S.ans have to work to force it out.
A few splats come from behind S.ans as the throne gets overflowed and crap spills out onto the floor. He just widens his legs slightly so he doesn’t step in it. He feels something else big and bulky pushing lower and, soon, spreading him out.
A.sgore’s skull comes free, jaws open wide, only sporting one horn. S.ans struggles a bit with it, wincing as shit pushes through the goat’s jaws and eye sockets. It’s a morbid fight for no one, since S.ans can’t exactly see it. All he feels is the flow get a little more difficult and the skull slowly pushing along until…POP! SPLLT!
S.ans sighs deeply, tongue lolling out as he feels the skull finally come free. It lands in the muck with a wet sound, some more fur-speckled shit coiling up on its head before S.ans finally feels well and truly empty.he stands up again, struggling slightly with his shorts as he looks back at the mess.
The shit pile is massive, definitely bigger than S.ans. He’s buried a good portion of the throne in shit, the pile spilling over the front and down between his legs just barely. Armor and bones poke out here or there, with the goat’s skull sitting near the bottom after dropping out of S.ans. The smell is awful, overpowering the normal sweet scent caused by the flower fields.
“Welp.” S.ans grunts and pulls hard, getting his shorts over his fatter ass. He’ll have to get bigger clothes…eventually. Maybe. “Thanks for lunch, Your Majesty. I’d say we should do this again some time but…” He trails off, as if waiting for a response. When the punchline doesn’t come, he shrugs. “Least you got to keep the throne, eh? I’ll see ya later.” He waves to the pile and walks off, planning to take a shortcut out so he doesn’t bump into anyone. He’s got a lot more napping to do now.
The pile is left to fester in the throne room until one of the Royal guards stumbles upon it. News of A.sgore’s ‘disappearance’ would be spreading through the Underground before day’s end, although S.ans would miss the news, too busy sleeping at his station to hear it.