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soiburger · 7 years ago

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Fell!Sans X Reader/Frisk Vore (dibbitydaberoni)

This is an old OLD fic I wrote and never posted on here, just my Wattpad. So um, this is for you @herogirl2511 you do not need to spam me I got your message the first time. You weren’t specific but I know there are people who want vore too so here ya go? WARNING! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE VORE OR FEEDING OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT THEN PLEASE LEAVE THIS STORY AND THE BLOG IT CAME FROM THE HECK ALONE. THANK YOU.

(Summary- Vore fic between Underfell Sans and Frisk. Sans is slightly unhinged or something...that's about it. This is really bad I’m sorry, I can write better since this but I’m really busy right now and might as well upload this.)

***

I'd been looking for him for hours, that bloody comedian. He'd cheated me one too many times into doing his dirty work, and now I was pissed.

"SANS!" I yelled, stomping through the snow and conifers in a rage induced aura. "COME OUT HERE YOU LITTLE SNEAK!"

*Snap*

I paused, my lips peeling into a malicious grin. Finally.

Trust that idiot to play the old 'twig snap' gag. I'd experienced that little gimmick too many times to count. I turned on the spot, my smile faltered. Sans leant against a tree, a few feet away. He had one hand in his hoodie pocket and the other supporting a lit cigarette between his teeth. He grinned at me, blowing smoke through his empty eyesockets and nose.

"You called." He said, without moving his mouth. This detail made chills run up my spine and my hair stand on end... Something wasn't right.

"Y-yeah...I did..." His grin was wide yet scary. It was as if it was meant out of anger and less of amusement. His gold tooth flashed warningly as he spoke again, this time removing the cigarette to speak.

"Didja want something or are ya you just wasting my time?"

I swore his voice doubled for the last few words. My heart started to pound within my chest like a frightened bird. His 'nostrils' flared impatiently.

"Uh...ahh..." I was frozen. What was wrong with him? What happened to the Sans I knew? The one that always seemed so passive and submissive. This Sans looked rugged and dark...as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

"Cumon, kid." he growled, "Throw me a bone here." The pun was empty. Neither I nor he payed any heed to it. I knew it wasn't meant to make me laugh. Ironically, it darkened the mood. "Fine." He muttered, exhaling smoke once more before crushing the cig to cinders and letting them drift away from his hand. He started walking towards me, the glowing red halos in his eye sockets fixed on me like some kind of wolf hunting it's prey. He didn't say anything. Only laughed when I ran. He was miles behind yet his dark laughter was stuck in my ears, I couldn't shake it!

Tired, I clutched a low tree branch to support my body. This was such a dumb idea. I'd underestimated Sans... If only I'd known his sedate nature was all an act...

His deep chuckles throbbed in my skull. Louder and louder.

"STOP!" I screamed, "STOP IT! PLEASE!"

He did. The noise was sucked from the world like someone had hit mute on a stereo. It was so sudden, yet only lasted an ear-blinding second before my head slammed against the tree. I cried out in pain and shock, my shoulders pinned to the bark by strong hands.

I glared at Sans' smirking face, ignoring his blank sockets and abnormal strength, squirming helplessly in his hold.

"You stupid bitch." he snarled, "Trying to run? That's the biggest joke I've ever heard." His left eye flared to life, liquid magic defying gravity and licking the upper rim of his eye like flames.

"D-don't hurt me..." I whimpered, trying to prize his boney phalanges off my shoulders. This only made him snigger.

"Don't hurt me!" He mimicked, slipping his thick, goopy red tongue out from between his lips and running it over his fangs. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

"What? Enjoy what?" My voice wavered, showing him my terror. He leant into my neck and took a deep breath through his nose. He pulled back, laughing.

"Jesus, you're so scared." He licked my cheek lathargicly, "I can smell it."

He was like an animal. Out of control and starving. At my taste his stomach growled, prickling my ears and quickening my pulse. This seemed to urge him on. He moaned quietly, slowly licking my cheek again and tracing my jawline down to my neck, where he suckled on my skin ever so gently. I noticed his fingers squeeze my shoulders and forearms in pleasure as well as the little noises of enjoyment he had begun to make.

"S-Sans?" I said quietly, wondering when he'd stop licking and biting me.

I screamed, blood pouring from the wound in my neck. He'd pierced my flesh so harshly and drawn blood...he guzzled it down without mercy, teasing the bruised skin around with his tongue to draw out more.

"Mng...guh..." He groaned thickly between gulps, obsessed with my sweet, warm blood against his cold magic bones and appendages. I was now too weak to struggle, the beast had drained me to near death.

"Please..." I whimpered, "Don't do this..." Sans withdrew his fangs from me with a squelching sound, strings of viscous, bloody saliva connecting us. He grinned, showing me his reddened teeth.

"I'm not done with you yet." He purred, "You tasted good enough to eat."

"No, you wouldn't..." I breathed, "You can't..." I had no idea how he'd manage it. I was almost the same size as him- granted, he was much taller and sturdily built but still, we weren't exactly meters apart. I knew Sans had a gelatinous ecto-stomach...but I doubted someone as big as me could fit in it. Would he chew me up in pieces and leave part of my corpse for the wolves? I shuddered, much to his delight.

"You're so weak and helpless, kid. I bet you're even too low to bring up your little RESET button." Sans released me from his grasp and resorted to holding me with magic bonds instead. The ties resembled ropes, but thicker and entirely smooth. In a way, they resembled tentacles, akin to his goopy red magic.

"Ngh..." I struggled feebly, "This is madness!"

"It is?" He laughed, sockets empty, "Welcome to my world."

He had a point, but it wasn't entirely my fault every day was the same for him... Now wasn't the time to ponder. Sans lifted me into the air using his magic, the tendrils tightening around my chest and stomach. He chuckled, beckoning one hand to tell the bonds to move me forward.

"Any last words?" He smirked, expecting no answer.

"I hope you choke." I said bitterly.

Sans laughed harder before stretching his mouth open and unhinging his jaw to make enough room for me.

He was eating me whole?! I was frozen in fear as he lowered my head into his gaping maw, his hot breath enveloping my face as he did so. I shut my eyes, trembling as my cheeks touched surprisingly soft flesh. I stole a peek at the inside of Sans' mouth curiously. It looked identical to that of a snake, his sinister red magic forming clear, coloured flesh. He squashed me into the entrance of his throat, thick tongue subtly edging me further in. My shoulders were crushed into the small opening, forcing my head down his weirdly expandable gullet. My shouts were drowned out by the goopy substance that coated my body as well as the crushing, muscular walls around me. Sans pushed more of me into his mouth, gradually inching my head, shoulders and chest downwards. More drool stuck to my clothes and hair, lubricating me. Each time he swallowed, the walls would contract and release a wave of the stuff, so I slipped further. I could barely breathe, his breath didn't smell bad-he didn't have the same kind of digestive system as an animal- yet it was intoxicating. The little air trapped in pockets between me and him were not enough to keep me alive for long. I squealed as he arched his tongue, purposefully toying with my lower regions. He then managed to cram the rest of my body inside, I felt something give and I slid easily down into a fetal position inside somewhere dark and moist.

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak.

It smelled of smoke in there...and mustard. Perhaps you'd think it smelt as vulgar as it sounded. In my opinion, it was quite delicious. The atmosphere was hot like a sauna, and surprisingly comfortable. Tiny glowing red particles drifted about the air like fireflies. I noticed how they varied in brightness and colour...how pretty...

I sprung to my senses. I'd just been eaten! How could I have let that happen?

I couldn't speak, but I wriggled and flailed the best I could. I felt so weak. The bite in my neck throbbed agonizingly, still seeping what little blood I had left. A ripple of static pain washed over me.

Sans could feel my movements and sighed. I sloshed about as he did so. Each time he rubbed his stomach, the gut walls would shift with his hand. It was kinda peaceful. The only sounds for a moment we're the deep gurgles of reverberating magic. I paused to listen.

"K-kid..." Sans' voice sounded so loud, I jumped... and he felt it, groaning. "Gimme a break... you're never gonna get out now." I frowned, thrusting my foot into his tender stomach with as much force as I could muster. He yowled, curling in on himself and pressing his back to the nearest tree. I smiled smugly, he wasn't gonna get away with this so easily. "Stop it, ya little-GUhhh..."

I'd kicked him again. Maybe he'd throw up if I continued. The area beneath my foot had started to glow slightly, as if sore. I grimaced, feeling momentarily sorry for Sans.

A second static wave washed over me, this time hurting a little. Sans' gut made a distressed moan before a third wave attacked me, fading but not stopping.

Uh oh.

Sans chuckled, massaging his swollen, aching stomach. He was digesting me?! I was being converted into magic right at that moment...and I couldn't do anything about it... But then it happened; like a switch had been flicked.

It occurred to me that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad becoming a part of Sans? It was as if I were drunk, poisoned or on ecstasy. It seemed as though I suddenly felt okay with becoming the dinner of a monster. The venom of his devilishly comfortable organs had completely confused me.

My whole body buzzed as Sans burped out of nowhere. I hadn't even noticed it building.

"Aheheh... That's better..." He rubbed his noisy tummy satisfactorily, swallowing his blood-flavoured saliva. "Mmmmmh...Why ain'tcha bitin' back, kiddo? Run outta steam?" He teased. He poked me from the outside.

Breathless, I replied, "You're... You're killing...Me..."

He chuckled at that, causing me to slosh and churn a bit. He made a little noise of regret.

"I haven't eaten like this in years, kid...its sooo good... Not ta mention how good ya taste." I could imagine the flash of his red eyes as he'd said that. A flush of heat doused itself over my body, accompanied by a harsh sting on my thigh. I was breaking apart, dissolving, disapparating! I was as good as dead! Sans hiccuped, sliding down to sit beneath the tree, comforting his blood-fed belly and breathing deeply. My eyes could barely stay open, as the paralysis of the pain and pleasure all at once ensnared my mind. I fell asleep. Sans did also, focusing all his energy into slowly digesting me as he slept.

I'd reset soon. He didn't need to go back home.

***

#underfell tum #undertum #undertale vore #undertail #vore #underfell vore #yup #thats it #i wanna die #sorry toby #cant help being attracted to this shit #lmao #digestion #guess this is more specific than i thought #sorry if this triggers people #im new to this #dont hurt me

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soiburger · 7 years ago

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Captain Becomes Judge-UNDERTUM FELL PAPYRUS sort of thing

This was an idea from

@agentlacey-universe

! The initial concept was great! I just...don’t think I executed it well enough. Sorry, Lacey! I tried!

WARNING! This fic contains kinky biz for people who like feeding and tummies and stuff like that, but there’s also some very mild sexual references and cursing so if you’re easily triggered by that please DO NOT READ!

You have been warned.

Also let’s chuck in another apology before we begin, heh...so I’m sorry! /n\;;

Story under the cut for reasons, lol.

Summary: Papyrus accepts a favour from Asgore a little quicker than he should have, and he pays the price alright.

"FUCK!" Papyrus stormed up and down the living room, cursing and muttering to himself.

"calm down, bro." Sans sipped his mustard from the settee coolly, and his eyes moved left to right, following his brother's incessant pacing. "it sounds pretty fun to me."

"WELL OF COURSE IT DOES TO YOU, SANS." Papyrus desperately leaned against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose. "YOU THINK WITH YOUR GUT, LIKE SOME KIND OF DOG! OF COURSE THIS SOUNDS BRILLIANT TO YOU!"

"heh, lay off a bit, boss, i can't help it. besides, ya need ta let go a bit yerself. this assignment will be good for ya."

Papyrus was momentarily surprised by how serious Sans was behaving. Where was the heckling? the torment? The 'I'll show you my belly and you'll see that having one ain't so bad' conversation?

"I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO EAT FOR ANOTHER TWO DAYS, THOUGH." The taller confessed, "I COULD MESS UP MY...BIOLOGICAL RHYTHM!"

"rhythm?" Sans started to laugh, and he accidentally squeezed mustard out of the bottle as he shook with deep, rapturous giggles. "the fuck, boss? look at yourself, you're a seven-foot tree branch who eats once every blue moon." Sans swallowed his amusement to get serious again. he did care about this, quite a bit. "it's amazin' how you even stand up."

Offended, Papyrus started to choke out rambling protests, and Sans swilled his sauce bottle with a troubled frown.

"look, bro, i need ya to trust me and know that you're eating habits are not all that 'kosher' by any standards...an' i know ya like bein' all slender and menacing, but ya have ta look things a little more thoughtfully. you're getting weaker, and so soon, yer gonna hafta worry 'bout what's gonna happen if someone overthrows yer position or wounds ya in battle? is havin' a bare spine gonna save ya then?"

Papyrus' hand had slipped to partially cover his mouth. he'd never been confronted by his brother like this before...had he fed him too much recently? Sans only got powerful when he'd eaten enough and Papyrus tried to avoid being out-ranked by his own brother by...well...limiting his access to food in the house. He was at first angry that Sans had somehow become strong enough to feel like he could criticise his lifestyle like this, but he knew, at the end of the day, Sans was right. Papyrus had a fragile positioning, being the captain of the guard and all, and he'd noticed himself getting more badly wounded whenever he got hit.

"D-DAMN IT, SANS!" He came over and flopped down next to his brother, collapsing to rest his head against his padded shoulder. "I HATE IT WHEN YOU'RE RIGHT."

***

Earlier that day, Papyrus had been summoned to the castle upon Asgore's request. thinking it was an emergency, he'd rushed to New Home with the mindset of panic and impending justice if anything had gone wrong.

Asgore addressed Papyrus like an old friend:

"Captain, I'm glad you made it."

"I MERELY ANSWERED YOUR CALL, SIR."

The king nodded, and folded his hands regally. "I asked you here to do me a favour. you see-"

"OF COURSE. WHATEVER IT IS, YOUR MAJESTY, I ACCEPT WITH THE HIGHEST HONOUR!" Thumping his hand to the left side of his broad chest, the skeleton stood heroically before the throne.

Asgore's eyes widened a little, but he cleared his throat and continued.

"Excellent! You see, I've fallen quite ill, I'm barely strong enough to leave this chair. Tomorrow, that robotic entertainer has paid me to judge his cooking competition, but obviously I won't be able to attend. You must replace me. I would have declined the request but he did offer me many perks that would also make your life a little easier too, my son."

Papyrus swallowed thickly. A cooking contest? No...no the 'great and terrible Papyrus' never attended things like that! Plus, it meant he'd have to break his fasting cycle and ruin his body! He'd be so humiliated...

"I...I SEE. BUT OF COURSE." The skeleton stammered and avoided eye contact suddenly, but Asgore didn't appear to notice or care.

"Doctor Alphys shall pay you for your expenses, and I shall look forwards to hearing about your experience...oh and...try not to mention my condition. With you out of the ranks, I can't trust that maniac Undyne to be wholly trustworthy if an assassination were to be attempted."

"INDEED. I UNDERSTAND. THANK YOU, SIR."

Papyrus had left the castle as relaxed as the stillness of the empty walls, and then run straight home, to panic.

***

Since that conversation with Sans, Papyrus began to doubt his way of thinking. Maybe he did have an eating problem? The word 'weak' replayed in his mind a lot as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, and he almost teared up. He'd do this...for the satisfaction of his brother and the rewards from the king. He wanted some kind of praise after this sudden, and very harsh epiffany.

The dawn of the event came, and Papyrus found Sans asleep in the kitchen. He made himself coffee and left feeling butterflies in his empty stomach. He was so nervous, and he found Mettaton insanely intolerable to boot. That...lustful and unhinged tin can was flirtatious and violent and Papyrus could sense that he was also a coward, which was something he hated.

His nerves made it hard for him to act his usual intimidating self, and he practically held his breath until he found himself hugging his chest, leaning against the wall behind the front stage with the floor crew, listening to the terrifying sound of hundreds of audience members, cheering for a show.

His stomach, although not present, had begun to put pressure on his spine, telling him he was starving hungry. The cavity under his ribs throbbed and his magic felt low and weak like Sans had warned. The smell of food was frankly intoxicating, and yet behind the alluring thought of a full stomach lurked a pitiful demise similar to the state Sans usually came home in after a binge at Grillby's.

Mettaton's voice soon blared over the noise, shutting everyone up, and Papyrus suddenly noticed something strange about his situation:

He was the only judge.

"UM..." His sharp red pupils darted about the room, and he started to panic again.

"Can I help?" A rabbit monster with his hat pulled too low on his brow squinted under his floppy bangs at the much taller creature standing worriedly above him. Papyrus' face flushed a little and he barely managed to speak properly. He knew this was no behaviour for the captain of the royal guard to display, but he was oddly emotional since the previous evening. It felt like these was a barrier missing within his soul.

"WHERE ARE THE OTHER JUDGES? I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE..."

"M'afraid so." The crew man said, and cracked a toothy smile. "It was supposed ta be the king but uh...I hear he had other business?"

"YES...INDEED..." Papyrus turned back to the door of the stage, and felt his soul jump a little with the nervous energy. This wasn't fair!

"SO, BEAUTIES, OUR VERY SPECIAL JUDGE FOR OUR BIGGEST TURNOUT EVER IS NONE OTHER THAN THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD! HOW DELICIOUSSS~" Mettaton, running his shiny metal tongue over his lips, held out an arm to signal for Papyrus to enter the stage, and from that point Papyrus knew he'd made a poor decision agreeing so thoughtlessly to Asgore's request.

He sat at a long table, and tried not to faint as about fifty monsters all tried to pile onto the stage at once, all holding platters of food they'd made ready for him to try.

A cold, hard hand pressed against his shoulder blade and the poor skeleton shivered.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Mettaton whispered, and even though Papyrus shook his head the robot still allowed the first contestant to approach the table. "You have to finish every one, and mark it on this form." The robot explained, and the whole time, inside his head, Papyrus was yelling for help. He'd kill to have Sans there with him, because he knew his brother was good at this sort of thing...but that wouldn't look very good on his report, would it.

"LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH." He announced in character, before swallowing thickly at the sight of the plate presented to him. The girl who'd made it looked confident in her skills, and laughed smugly.

"There's no way you could deny that this won't totally demolish the rest of these amateurish dishes." She said, and Papyrus tried to remain cool. He exhaled his stress subtly, and lifted a forkful of pasta shells from the plate.

"WE'LL SEE."

It was drowning in melted cheese, so much so, that the stuff stretched and snapped off in delicate strings as he lifted the mouthful to his lips and accepted the first bite of assumed hundreds. Beneath the cheese happened to be a delicious surprise of conventionally salty marinara sauce, peppered with olives that released waves of delicious, hot juices when bitten into.

Papyrus swallowed, and grinned slightly. If he couldn't get out of this situation, he might as well enjoy the moments like this that were pleasant... Although, 'pleasant' was a weak description of the gorgeous, rich flavour of one of his favourite dishes, as he quickly managed to finish the entire plate within the next five minutes. He was soon scraping the plate clean and savouring the last of it by slowly drawing the fork from his mouth- at last, a tongue to make things easier too.

Unaccustomed to eating on a normal basis, Papyrus' stomach squeezed delightedly around the food it'd been given, which was regrettably slightly painful, and he sucked in a breath to try to ease the soreness. The happy sounds his belly made to welcome the well-earned meal were so excitable that he could physically feel the ripples on his ectoplasmic skin.

"So?" The woman demanded hopefully, eyes flicking from Papyrus to the paper he had to mark her food with. "What was it like? Was it good? Huh?"

"SHHHH." Papyrus breathed steam through his mouth, eyes and nose, and smirked. "IT'S NOT UP TO YOU." And with that, he scribbled down a few numbers in the marked boxes, his spidery handwriting depicting a lowered score for manners. "I'D SAY IT WAS GOOD ENOUGH. THANKS."

Crestfallen, the woman was ushered away to wait for the results in the crowd, and the next contestant stepped up. This one was as cocky as the first, and offered up a large plate, bearing four round balls of doughy white bread, hot and stuffed with shredded sweet chilli pork that melted against Papyrus' tongue at first contact. He felt like he was melting in bliss, as he pushed the rolls one by one past his teeth and swallowed them hungrily, marking them down only for the lack of diversity. He enjoyed every last mouthful, and when he'd finished he moved a hand to feel the unfamiliar and shallow curve of his comfortably full stomach, bathing in warm, carbohydrate bliss.

"ENJOYABLE. THAT'LL BE ALL." Papyrus chuckled to himself, finding a little satisfaction in putting the competitor's hopes down with those kinds of blunt remarks, and hiccuped unexpectedly. He cupped his mouth and his stomach at the same time, and had to swallow a little extra air to stop himself from burping. He'd never stoop to that level... He hoped not, at least.

Papyrus waded his way through another few entries, and they were all good, but lacking after the first two, which were particularly satisfying. Now that he was full he was harsher with his responses, and the more stuffed he felt, the more pissed off he began to feel. His stomach began to ache and gurgle accordingly, and he felt embarrassed all of a sudden, cheeks flushing redder than before. He chugged the tumbler of water provided at his side to calm down before accepting another wave of servings: six now, in total, which meant six whole dishes- each worth one meal- tightening the buttons on his shirt beneath his thin black sweater, and causing him a world of discomfort in terms of complete fullness. He felt he might pop, and so surely sometime people would notice how full he was getting, and perhaps stop the contest to let him off.

He forced himself to finish a particularly doughy pastry at one point, which left him with the real need to free up some room. The thing was about thirty centimeters long and thicker than his bicep; thick, crisp pastry that'd been slightly under-cooked on the inside; stuffed fuller than Paps' gut with various vegetables and oozing juices from cooked meat. It tasted okay, but it was big and dense and a hefty thing to cram into an already very full stomach. The crust of the pastry was like a twisted band, taking up a third of it's mass an simply solid dough, of which, Papyrus had to eat by mandatory obligation. Damn Mettaton's rules and Asgore's faith! His belly was getting awfully tight, and the bulge was visible under his clothes for definite. Inside, a melded mass of unconverted magic goop churned and bloated his body. His belt cut in and sorely stoppered any further expansion, and whilst he hurriedly unclasped the buckle under the table, awkwardly shifting his weight to get to it faster, bubbles of swallowed air somehow dislodged, and squeezed their way up to his gullet, where the poor skeleton could no longer attempt to prevent anything for occurring. He saved himself slightly by muffling the burp with his fist, and he sighed heavily after, groaning.

"That's it." Mettaton chuckled darkly, "You're doing better than we thought."

"WE?" Papyrus turned to face the metal man, eyes glaring with dangerous ferocity, but the machine continued to laugh, though quieter.

The skeleton growled, and ate his next meal with a scowl on his face. What did Mettaton mean by 'we'? His thought process helped him finish it quickly and without much consideration for his overstuffed-ness, however, he could not ignore having to belch again: louder and lazily covered with his hand. He moaned softly, and wriggled his waistband down his hips to allow his belly to splurge into his lap. This was certainly more comfortable, in an uncomfortable sort of way.

He ate through Fresh Tortillas stuffed with spicy fried goods that made his mouth water uncontrollably, juicy burgers sandwiched between toasted buns and raw fish and rice that was so salty his mouth alternated between being a desert and a waterfall. His tongue had gotten so fat that he had to pant for air with his hanging from his mouth like a dog, the space available for air within his rib cage was shrinking by the minute, and the sickening mix of salt, fat and dough had forced his stomach to swell and put more pressure on itself under all his clothing. He regretted wearing a buttoned shirt underneath his jumper, but at least it covered most of 'the damage'. The rounded dome of his glutted-out abdomen sloshed and swirled, full of small and uncomfortable bubbles of gas that refused to come out even if he tried to burp, and it was getting harder to squeeze more food into it to replace them. Sans had once mentioned something he called the 'binge barrier', where apparently if one were to eat enough, they'd stop finding it so painful... But Papyrus had never seen himself so big, nor felt so full, and before being served the first dessert dish he tried to ease his hands down his sides, and rub the curve of his tight underbelly, which bulged in an undignified manner over the top of his jeans, which were growing horridly tight around his hips again. "You have to try this." The young man serving his dish planted his hands on the desk abruptly, startling poor Papyrus and giving him much unneeded hiccups. "*HIC!* ugh...I WILL...JUST A SEC-UUURRRpp!" What had become of him? The captain of the Royal guard, helpless and overfed, at the mercy of literally hundreds of monsters of a lower class than himself. "PARDON...mngh..." "Oh jeez." The dog-like animal's eyes grew slightly, but instead of backing off, he leaned in a bit. "You really are full, huh." "SHUT UP, YOU- *HIC!*- YOU FUCKER- *HIC!*- AGH..." "Oy, don't get mad at me." The contestant tried not to sound terrified, and started acting shy. "I guess I shouldn't make you eat this..."

"OUTTA THE WAY, FLUFFBOY!" A woman made of slime sloshed up onto the podium, and slammed a huge bowl of dessert onto the table. The noises her viscous body made whilst moving sounded a little too similar to the unhappy gurgles coming from inside himself, and Papyrus started to feel like he might not be able to keep it all down much longer. "EAT THIS, 'CUS I GOT A SCHEDULE TO RUN HERE." "Hey, um...I don't think he's doing so good, I think-" The fist contender tried to talk sense into the woman, but she was as stubborn as everyone else. "Who cares what you think? He's gonna eat this, even if I have to make him!" She wielded the spoon, and drove it into the layers of whip cream, thick custard, sponge and fruit jelly and withdrew it with a satisfying slurping sound. Papyrus receded from the spoon like a vampire would from garlic, but this person was persistent as hell, and force-fed him mouthful after mouthful against his will. The poor man could only sit there and hold his fattened stomach whilst a button of his undershirt burst apart with each laborious gulp, groaning for mercy that he knew wouldn't be awarded until the bowl was empty. It took a painstaking ten minutes to get him to finally accept the last mouthful, and he held it in his mouth instead of swallowing it. His stuffed gut really couldn't hold any more food. It was supposed to be full of magic, but he's eaten so much in such little time that it was also weighed down with food still in it's physical form. He felt like a lead balloon, and he squeezed his hands down his swollen belly, whining to Mettaton to make it stop between burping up tastes of all his previous meals in one and then moaning all the more. The robot in address just stared at Papyrus' helpless, struggling form and blushing red face, as well as listened to the weakness and agony conveyed in his voice, unevenly mixed with some kind of satiated pleasure the skeleton seemed to be experiencing as well. The microphone dangled from his hand as he gawped in disbelief, that food...of all things...had brought the great and terrible Papyrus to his knees so effectively. If he didn't look so irresistible at that moment, Mettaton might have been inclined to bring out his chainsaw and create a fun evening for himself...but instead the machine took advantage for his own personal gain by violating the captain like he always wanted to do whenever they were near. He wrapped up the contest, hurriedly ran through some information about results, and then snaked his extendable metal arms around the bulging, gurgling, full waist of his skeletal victim and hauled the seven foot monster backstage. "F-My you're heavy!" Mettaton breathed, a little too lustfully in Papyrus' silent opinion. he verbalised nothing and did little more than try and walk with such a disorientating weight to his body. Every move and touch caused upset to his stomach, especially when Mettaton's grip squeezed him too tight. He just hoped he could make it home without being sick...if that was even possible. He wasn't sure. He was dropped into an armchair in Mettaton's bright red and yellow dressing room, and he sunk into the upholstery as if he wanted it to swallow him up... Ooh, 'swallow'...that word brought him more discomfort to remember. "I must say, I'm rather impressed, beanpole." The robot winked, stepping closer, eyeing Papyrus' parted legs- splayed to support his stomach- and his flushed face and short, exhausted breaths. "I wonder what that gut will feel like when I..." "F-FUCK OFF." "What was that, darling?" Mettaton snarled, maintaining his sadistic grin. "I...I SAID...*hURP!* mn~, FUCK OFF." Angered, the offended stormed closer to Papyrus, and slapped both hands against the taut sides of his rounded middle with the intent to cause pain. "Why you little-" "ey, tin can." Everyone's eyes shot to the door, where the slouched figure of Sans stood casually, a little smirk on his face. "S-Sans?" Mettaton stated robotically. "How did you...? Why?" Sans chuckled and tied Mettaton's wrists in cuffs of his red magic, shaking his head at his forlorn brother, still sitting helplessly in the chair. "what kind of brother do ya think i am? lettin' pap come here on his own with you? jesus christ, metts, cut me some slack. m'not stupid." "SANS, YOU FOLLOWED ME?" For that moment, Papyrus seemed to have entirely returned to normal, already telling his brother off. "i'll explain later, bro...but yeah, i did." "YOU SAW EVERYTHING?!" "that too." Sans' eye sockets went dark and prepared for yelling, but instead of a raised voice he heard only a deep sigh.

"I NEED TO GO HOME." Papyrus admitted, face burning with both embarrassment and anger at the same time. "AND I AM NOT WALKING.”

Yayyy! You got to the end! Thank you for reading and I’m sorry if it’s not up-to-scratch. Like I keep saying as an excuse, life for me is very busy right now and I’m trying my best. Love ya beans, -Soi <3

#undertum #undertum fanfiction #underfell tum #undertum papyrus #stuffing #feederism #feeder #feedee #belly kink #tum stuff

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