Eating the Dog that Bit ya

Written by Septia.

The hustle and bustle of the Orchard surprised Ace. During the weekend the club was packed, but this was a workday and the catwalk was aglow with performers rousing the crowd with sensual dances. Ace had retreated off to the other end of the club, where hexagonals dressed in neon lit up the bar's counter. Here, there was a semblance of calm.

“What're ya havin?” Asked the Pegasus bartender.

“Stirred grape nectar, extra cider with that,” he said, elbows slumped onto the counter, “Put it on Gizmo's tab.”

“Gizmo's treating you? Well, where's that butt munch mutt?” she asked.

“Mutt's munching butts.” Ace nudged his muzzle in a gesture, guiding their vision to his rear. The gray canine's muzzle laid cramped by Ace's beige cheeks, the spade's cutie mark budging and rippling whilst the dog assaultied the pit with laps that that reverberated with the humid flails of a beached fish.

“If you are not careful then my ass'll start making you into fudge hot-dogs.”

“Mms, maybe that mfms, what I'm after?” -Shhrltps- -Chrslpst- the laps sent quivers up Ace's spine, rattling his implants.

“You went to me because…?”

“Your cheeks were just planted there, wide open.” Ace rolled his eyes. Ace tucked his rear further into the chair, making Gizmo work to keep his face tucked in the buns. The hind’s cheeks clinging around the mutt's muzzle. “Why would I give a greedy mutt the time of day?”

“Mfmm, ffrm, cause you love it? And this mutt's gonna pay for all your drinks tonight?”

Ace jutted his rear out, weighing on the edge of the chair, in the motion pushing Gizmo's head back. The hind tilted in his favor, enough so that one could hear the crinklings of the pucker warp over his muzzle -Chrrlspths- “Guess that'sll do. Make that nectar a double.” Ace said. The earth pony scootched off the stool, with the grind of shifting cargo, -Cththwp- For a moment the rump rested on the canine'es head. -Chrfrlrpttsh- The smooth smear of stabbing stuffing with a straw spluttered from the sphincter, before Chhrrtwhwpop- -Ddmfpths- the cheeks collapsed on to Gizmo's shoulders, corking Ace's ass with the pup's head.

“Mfms mmr,” Ace huffed, gyrating on top of the mutt, who's tail flapped and smacked into his diaper. -Chrlsptsh. The cheeks spread, pucker gaping over his arms. The ring of rugose rump meat sprawling to advance over the coat, bathing the path in guttural phlegm drooled down the determined dung fodder.

“Here's ya drink, or ah, should I give ya a moment?”

“That's fine,” Ace answered the bartender, sloughed halfway down his chair, “Just a moment.”

“Hey, I knew this place's grub was dog food, but this is ridiculous.” A patron in the distance exclaimed to the amusement of their friends.

“That's a big hunk of, shame's gonna be a drove ’a doggy doo in a bit.”

“Oh hey, loo’ at that ass go.”

“Woo you go, Ace.”

It wasn't his intention to attract an audience, but whilst he leaned back, steadying himself on the precipice of the stool, he'd captured quite a few gazes. He heaved himself up, a -Chrlrlpsths- squealing as a stretch of the mutt slipped free… before -Chhrltpstsh- he hammered his flank down in a decisive pummel, -Chrlrpsths- squelches and crinklings sparked from the rear as the cheeks distended, pucker engorging as it sunk over the dog's frame. In the orchestra of smears from the well lubricated pucker, the dog disappeared, devoured as Ace's ass clapped -Chrlrlpsth- into the floor. As he rose to the hearty cheers of the drunken patrons, only a few wriggling toes crowded with Gizmo's pampers projected from the pucker, and the digits were gobbled up in a -Chhrlrpstsh- tug of seaweed drawn through dough, as Ace shuffled back on the stool.

“Knowing him, that diaper's full ‘f plastic, gut's still not comfortable dissolving polymers, though,” he brushed over his engorged gut, the beige hump sailing forth as he got seated, rubbing his hooves down to -Chhrbs-grlp- work down the paw prints and bulges that sailed the surface. “Won't stop me from pulping the rest of this puppy,” Ace affirmed and guzzle down a swig of his drink, scratching his haunches and fidgeting in its steady attempts to -Chbglrlpsh- crumple the padding and gobble it up with the rest of the mutton.

Within, walls of fleshy rubber enveloped Gizmo. Tissue of the stomach lining drummed into him with the chorus of gurgling enzymes churning through the gut; abdomen contracting in reflex from the Gizmo's motions. The haze of warmth soaked into him, leaving him to draw in a deep sigh loaded with satisfaction. -Chsptsh- and then getting a mouthful of alcohol splashed over his head from on high.

“H-hey, don't splurge too much, okay?”

“And one for the cute mare in orange,” Ace called from above just as a hoof plunged into the gut and smushed Gizmo to the back of the stomach, “it is all on the batch of dung dough.” laughs pierced through the haze of muffling gut walls.

Gizmo bit his lip, shifting as the stomach contracted, budging him into place as sweat beaded down his forehead. His paw roaming down under his diaper to tend to the tent he was pitching. He was unsure if Ace was really gonna blow his salary on drinks, though he knew for sure he was gonna blow himself before then.

The condensation from the gut's haze trickled down along with the rivers of sweat, mixing together, melding in with him as the stomach’s muscular tissue clenched him together. Each clamp feeling his own body accumulate to the bending motions. The spreading walls daubed his body from head to toe in the fluid vapours and gut slop around him, till his coat laid glistening in and flat as polished silver and bronze shrills- Christs-. Dollops of the collected goop foraged down his smooth form, collecting in a puddle around his feet, and there, under the translucent surface of goo, he watched his khaki feet gained a richer saturation of auburn. The hue crept over him, careful and meticulous as a snail on a mission, the rim of auburn crawled along where his paws laid submerged, and in their face feeling a spreading a relief through his muzzle, as fur melted into flesh, and meat melted into mulch. -Shtllpsth-Chsktpsh-thwtslp- The thrusts coming from within Gizmo's diaper grew sloppy, thrumming and twitching with the grunge of a panicked frog wading through a marsh. He felt that Ace wasn't just gonna digest him, … he was gonna cream him right into mulch, without a care car, unphased by anything it could gain from his body, uncaring for any contributions he could make and this was to wasting him.

“MFMw, fmps…” He huffed out and dug his paw in deeper. -Hstklptsh- He felt the trickle and stretch of mulch behind his back stretched from the wall, tangles of sludgy vines webbing him back to the ruffled walls of the stomach, clumps of dissolving fur drooping down his back like oils. The pup stuck stewing in his own mess.

The stomach ratted, the walls contracting, pinching in on him, and clasped to his body like a wet suit… in the extra few heartbeats it retracted, giving him breathing room as the walls shimmered and shifted. Gizmo laid back confused, feeling his tail slopping against the beige pool forming around the bottom of the gut. When he realized, his cheeks bloomed in fluster. The walls of the gruel factory were running transparent. Ace's chameleon implant allowing the fluorescent light of the bustling Club Orchard to enter Gizmo's view once more, as the skin faded in waves of the implants workings its magic. Gradually the faint hex pattern of semitransparent scarlet dissipated, and the slobby canine was laid bare for the bar crowd.

“Oh wow, so that's who we have to thank for our drinks?” A mare asked as she jabbed his hoof into the gut, the protrusion barely visible by the refraction of light as it squeezed into Gizmo's side, leaving long trials of his molten coat as it -Chrlpths- sprung back to shape.

“Wow, he's really beating himself off in there~, what a cute little perv,” said another mare. “And soon he'll be a disgusting perv~.” Said the first with a singsong tune.

“And then, jus…”

“Just disgusting,” they said in unison.

But that is a really cool implant.” The first mare said, and their attention shifted to Ace, who only had the torso transparent to give a window into the churning pup.

-Chrlpgsh- -Bhrlrshc- Despite the bustle outside, the wheeling churns of the abdomen encapsulated Gizmo. His body sank as the gut deflated in each churn. The sensation of melting gradually encompassing his body as the gut steamed him in the diluting vapours. He became acutely aware of the weight of his own body as it sagged him down. His veins puffing up bloated and soggy as if his fluids were injected with a stream of liquid marshmallow, wading through his frame and gradually absorbing the brawn and meat around themselves to puff up plump and juicy. - Chthptsh- Chtlpstsh- The vibrations of the gut chugged him to and fro, and sounding like a batch of gelato in a tumble drier. Pockmarks appeared over his frame, bubbles bursting with plumes of hazy smog -Fprpsths- that tainted the air around it in a deluge of tar and smouldering whey.

It was a struggle to keep his head straight, as more and more of his body was consumed by the sloughy hue of putrescent umber, and his posture slopped down in the manner to resemble a wax candle kept lit overnight. -Chrlptsths- Dunes of his body clumping together and drooping along his frame, each clump he shed instilling up a lurid tension until it culminated in a breath of relief.

“Oh wow, he's really mulching up, don't think there is gonna be much dog left soon.”

One of the mares prodded the gut, letting Gizmo see the hoof displace a drove of the muddy clay in the vague hue of his fur, before it sunk back, melding in with the stew of congealed chocolate.

“Thanks for the-,” -Hursaalrrp-, “drinks, butt fudge.”

“Mfmff,” the other mare huffed, “shame though, it is fun to see him melt, but we don't even get to see the guts.”

“I know a way you can see some guts~, sugarh~.”

“Oooos,” The mare snickered and scuttled off. In a drunken stumble.

“Phaa, so much for them,” Ace mumbled and sipped on another drink, “least I'll get some fun I should be able to beat one out over this batch, that diaper's gonna clog my system.”

Gizmo felt the trickle of alcohol over his head, carving rivers in his muddy form, following along with the crease and fractures opening up with the huffs of fume from and pockmarks littering his skin.

“MMFwaaa…” He huffed out, though felt his jaw, dangle, sloughing down his neck and gumming up his cheek with dunes of mulch on his chest.

A hoof came from above, kneading into his frame, -Shhtptssh- fondling into the dropped jaw and scratching down past his face, melding the pupper to a lost collection of nougat cascading over a diaper, along with a pair of ears jutting out the top.

“Mmghgahg,” Gizmo huffed out.”

“Yeah, I've got better things to do than lug you around, ya, I know you will understand.” Ace mumbled and shuffled up to the counter.

Gizmo sloughed forwards, the gut compacting against the wood and gyrations plying into him. The transparent husk of a stomach moulding and wiggling his form as it churned and globbed together. Gizmo's ears sloughed down, slacking and drooping along his doughy face, his hearing muffled as the crinkling grease polished dung wrapped around him. He could hear some cheers from outside, make out a face peering into the gut, and in the distance picking up the groans and huffs of other patrons getting frisky, or sating their hunger. All as he decomposed into a reeking load of sewage sludge, his head melding into himself as another bale of dung. With the last of his effort, he focused on tugging the slobby sausage of a cock he had left. -Chhghgs- -Splbgrhrsptuths- In a gush of pleasure, the engorging muck inflated and barfed up a load of pale plaster, oozing out into the diaper. The tension of pleasure raved through his body, tensing him up taut with the viscous pleasure, to then relinquish any hold over what remained of his muscles, and the wiggling, jerking paw sloughed apart into mortar, welding in with the ivory spunk, and as it did with all the rest of his body.

“Phaa, Ace pat his stomach, the abdomen protruding to a buxom pot belly, rustling like a taut drum in his smacks. “Think-,” -Cmdmdw- -Chnmmft- “Phaa, I'll have a spiced grog to go, I for it feels like…” -Ppfbbrrrhhtbsj- a plume of pale yellow smog billowed out through Ace's hind, setting his tail flapping and cheeks clapping in the gale of guttural flatulence, polluting the air behind him in to steam of a wilted hey vinaigrette, “It, fm, feels like my friend’s is heading out as well.”

-Chrlptshgs- -chbrprhthsgs- Ace's pucker bloomed with the flare of petals sinking into a bog. A creak and smear of his wrinkled pucker reverberated the air around his hind. With one hoof holding a cheek open to patch of deep auburn protruded from the brim. Dressed in a lattice pattern of crossing fissures and creates through the fresh manure. -Chhts- But then the pucker vibrated to a halt, a clog build up in the system. The muck peeking out of the pucker trickling down the winking pit, unveiling a patch of tainted khaki. A friendly pattern of figures and colors, which had once been vibrant, contoured the brim, and the pucker's brim struggled in its budging and stretching to accommodate the girth of the swelling diaper bud wedging its way out of the stallion's pit.

“Phaa, knew that one was gonna be a problem. Mfrs, though it isfmms, fmms quitemfm sm… big…,” he mumbled off, leaning his muzzle onto the bar disk. -Phhrrftt- Cbbefft- As whips of smog hissed out around the brim of the plump pampers sloughing through the pony's sphincter.

The stallions' brim flattened around the zenith of the diaper, the ruffled ring tensed taut with the vague shadows of the creases marking out the plush doughnut. Meanwhile, the diaper bulbed itself, creasing and furrowing with folds trailing towards the constricting neck of the rectum. -Chhgltpsh its contents shuffled, sloughing as the back of a padded sack crawled out through the brim. Its surface plastered with mulch and trailed in threads of bowel phlegm, giving a needed highlight to the befouled pattern of pastel colours, shaping beneath — its shapes and figures distorted by the bulk contained within. The diaper sagged over the stool's edge, dipping towards the floor through the chin and slotting fully into the gulf created by the stallion's gaping cheeks.

“Mgmrgs mpg sh… pha…” Ace struggled, his tail slacking in an arch over the budging pampers, massaging a hoof into his abdomen to work thought the sludge congested within.

“Hey, studd.”

Ace peeked up before he felt a -Smmttch- rustling through the diaper and, the oscillations coursing up through his bowels and stirring his clogged intestines.

“That is not quite how you use a diaper, but keep trying.” The cheeky stallion said and trotted off with a snicker.

Ace peered up to make a mental note of them, … -Chrlrpstsh- but grew distracted by the echoes of the rustles from the sweat, growing to a quake through his nethers and spiking pressure through his shaft. -Chhrrlpsths- The bale of a diaper crawled onwards, its zenith plying apart Ace's pucker over the bulging droves and prominent protrusions, … till it sloughed free, the diaper spilling out of this rear with the cacophony of a band dropping their instrument into a pool of dough. -Chhrpktsh- Pwhtpwt- -Dttwtmpghsl- The diaper crashed into the ground, drawing forth long tethers of silken smooth bowl goo from Ace's depths and flinging them out if not around the bar, a flush of fumes growled out the rear, bubbling through in a billowing fog of stench pepper and tar marinade -Bggrrwlpwrllrptfhs-.

“Mfmmprhgs. Phaaa…, that is just mfms, what I needed,” Ace huffed, lounged over on the counter with his rear projecting off of the stool, hooves converging upon his crotch to tend to the throbs of his erection. -Shhrlrptsh- The diaper laid as wide as his hind, sagging and slough into a pancake shape on the ground, -Cgrrlglpsths- the crinkling of loose glue tearing from the end of the diaper as they sprawled open as petals into a flower of manure. The pamper laid bloated with bales of dung. A smokestack of stench steaming from the congealed bulgy horse apples collected in the net of the padding. Boulders of the butt fudge making up the filling to the diaper dumpling crowded together, seams melting up to one another as a puzzle of muck clogs in a disparity of shares and volumes… Others simply wouldn’t fit, and broad gaps segmented them, separating them from the other mulch, a clutter of polished dung gems which tended to crowd the outside of the brim of the pampers, the closer to the center the more the creases and fissures moulded together into a reeking core of colon chocolate.

“Mmfwphaa…,” Ace huffed as his pucker winked, creeping back up as a bale budged through the neck of the pucker, disgorged as a rotund clump sloughing out of the undulating pit. -Schspthstgs- the clump clapped into the heap. Trembles crept through the mountains, and bloats of muck toppled and rolled over one another, the bales sprawling out around the front of the pierced diaper dumplings. Ace sighed with, head full of alcohol, cock full of lust, and colon congested with compost.

-Chrlrpths- -Chrpghths- The pucker winked and cricked open as an oil slat mire and sloughy, molten grapple peeked through the precipice, worming its way out, only to expand the rim all the more as its zenith crept closer. Behind it waited further orbs of muck, — horse apples rolled through the powerful bowels, forged into a sluggish loaf, each glob holding onto the one behind it.

Gizmo savoured every moment. He could feel his body cradled and clasped form all sides by Ace's bowels, each glob protruding through the yawning pucker sending shivers down his less corporeal manifestation, bathing him in incorporeal shudders. He felt as the three bales deep loaf dipped from Ace's ass, the initial bump dipping and tearing at its seams, -Thshtrg- detaching from the column to -Chjtpsh- smatter into the muck conglomeration below, indenting the softer apples of muck with its outlines. The impact echoed through both ends, Gizmo showered in stimuli from both ends of the sludge, all of it a part of him, the bales gradually melding together as his consciousness condenced. His form rustled along with Ace's jerks, even sensing the muscles pumping up his mast whilst thick clogs of horse apples warped Ace's pucker to their whim, leaving the ring of flesh to snap back to recoup -Snsngplwrhts- , another oncoming clog of the pulped pudding sloughing out through the brim. -Dsjhtpsh- -Shptbtsh- -Cbphts- bales of muck clasped into one another, the loaf of conjoined horse apples reeling its way down to the heap seeping up towards the end of tool, while the majority sloughed free and bundled with bales they'd been merged with. Everything tumbling down the heap of oozing booty batter.

Over time Ace's dung formed a heap of dung boulders. Here and there in the toppled dollops you could spy a chunk of osseous matter poking through, shards of bone embedded into the bales liked raisins in saffron buns, adding a touch of brightness in their tainted white hue to the ballast of raw umber. -Shpphts- -Thwphtjksp- an orb flung free form Ace's ass, -Stwtbpths- clumping into the muck. Thick, brown grease melted off of the manure's surface. Underneath it gradually revealed a sundered fracture of a cranium, the frame from the hollow eye socket, plastered somewhat off center to the globule.

“Phoa mfmpfsh… ahha, my ass's is still shaking, phos… mfms, didn't get any tail, but least I got some pummelling,” Ace huffed as he spun around on the stool, wiping back his blond mane as he massaged the length of meat in his lap. He peered down to the cluttered bale of muck, the back end of the diaper remained uncovered, the front dishevelled with the bales and segmented clumps of muck, giving it the impression of an overfilled horn, though instead of grapes, fruits and nuts, it was all just one gizmo serving of assphalt.

“Pfmsms, fms. After all those drinks, smm, you still manage to look like a decent lay.” He scoffed, heaving breath overtaking him as he pounding his mast, sack sagging heavier onto the seat… And then it all came to a head, the tension focused, crystallised through his entire body down to the tip of his mast, following along the journey the spunk that erupted through his cock, painting the cluttered bales ahead with a slobber of ivory mortar, chubby vines of cum curling over the socket clog, coating it in a tapestry of liquid lust. Ace nursed the spunk from his mast, hoisted his sack out of the way to dip into his honeypot, reeling out the pleasure he could from the exchange -Chhtphs- slathered with nectar as his mast painted the heap in hot streaks, seams sowing together and dunes mushing in between them, filling up the divots with spunk, bubbling from the gases displaced below.

Ace gathered himself, sighing and heaving himself off the stool and giving the pile another glance. “Though you'd have to liquor me up more before I'd actually stick my cock in that. Speaking off,” he turned to the bar, where under pressured up from washing a glass, gave the pile a look, then continued washing. “One round on me. Or, my friend. Rather, what's left of them. I'm off, but I am sure he wouldn't mind if you kept them around as entertainment for the others. Long as he pays up right.”

The bartender snickered. “I might give them a go myself.”

“By all means,” Ace said and brushed off his cat, “like me, that dog doesn't mind getting dirty.”

~ 1 ~

Gizmo gathered his mind together, feeling the clutch of the diaper around him still, though covering so much more, and yes, so little. Once he was lucid enough to not drown in pleasured stimulus he pondered how long it would be for him to reform. A day? Two? Then he thought of how any would steep him. Ace not even having the decency to drop him off in the bathrooms. Then, gradually, he could become aware of the ponies, and patrons walking by, laughing, poking him, taunting and humiliating the pile clog of horse apples on by stinking up the bar with the ripe ooze of spilled mushroom broth. And then… rivers soared through his senses, as some started getting closer to him. -Chsptpltshs- close enough to jab into the bundles of sludge gems, drizzling him in fluid lust and rusting the heap to squeal like an orgy of slugs in a stew pot. The further into the night it went, the more patrons wanted a go at him. And in an orgy of pounding, stuffing, and buffering grinds, his consciousness displeased again, submerging in a lake of primal satisfaction. It was going to be a long night.