#clintvore

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

I liked your story with Alex, can we see a story of Shane eating and disposing of a bunch of the townsfolk while he was drunk?

Yeah, definitely! He’s one of my favorites personally. Since it's been a minute from the last one, reminder that I write these with the gay furry mod in mind. I'm...weirdly picky about human preds but turn them guy into an anthro and I'm all over him.

S.hane hiccups and groans softly, having to lean against the wall to stop himself from teetering. The gator’s gone and done it again. He had way too much to drink. He’s only vaguely aware of it, if only because it’s making it difficult to do much of anything. He feels completely weighed down right now, and all the booze has gotten him gassy.

A few taps on his shoulder jolts S.hane out of his haze and he blinks a few times, looking over at the person bothering him. It’s S.am, and the tiger seems a bit annoyed, his tail flickering. “Hey, are you going to let S.ebastian out or what?”

“Wha..?” S.hane blinks a few more times. What about S.ebastian..? While he’s trying to figure out what the point of the question is, the gator’s stomach sloshes suddenly and sends a rolling belch out of him. It takes like beer and wolf. He looks down at his stomach, seeing it hanging down in front of him, distinctly shaped like a curled up person. S.ebastian’s voice is muffled as he tries to yell.

“Hic...I need somethin’ to soak up the beer,” S.hane slurs out, “so I don’t get drunk...” He gives his gut a few rough pats, making S.ebastian yell again. “Sebby’s just...helpin’ out for a bit...’s all...”

S.am rolls his eyes. “That’s great, S.hane, but just ask G.us to make you something to eat then. I need S.ebastian for our game.” He nods his head to the pool table, which is where the two men had been just before S.hane came up and snapped down on the wolf’s head. “So just cough him up and get something else.”

S.hane groans slightly at the thought. If he spits S.ebastian up now, he’ll definitely end up puking. Then he’ll have to get more beer. And he already spent all his money. “Y’know what, S.am, why don’t you just...” S.hane looks at the tiger, halfway through speaking when his jaws open and another belch bubbles out of him. S.am winces and waves the air away. “...go in there and get him,” S.hane finishes.

S.am coughs, nose still cringing. “What? S.hane, I’m not going to stick my hand in your--” He tries to look back at the gator, but he’s staring down into those wide open jaws. They snap down on his head and shoulders before he can even finish the thought, and wet chugs sounds soon follow as S.hane messily gulps him down.

Despite being completely wasted, being a gator gives S.hane the advantage. His strong jaws clamp down tight, and none of S.am’s thrashing or struggling can force them open. So the tiger disappears deeper inside instead, each wet gulp dragging him down into the stink pit of beer and wolf hanging off the gator. The whole affair does make S.hane lose his balance, though, and he lands on top of his gut, belching around the bottom half of S.am’s body. Though he quickly goes right back to slurping his legs down until they’re all gone.

S.ebastian and S.am are both yelling and struggling now, making S.hane’s gut bulge and slosh around wildly. It shakes the gator back and forth on top and it does work in getting him sick. All that comes up, though, are very wet and harsh belches.S.hane groans and whines, now starting to press his weight into his stomach more. He squeezes it between his legs and wraps his arms around it. “Oooough...will you two...Hwwuuuuurp...guh, just stop it..? You’re givin’ me...ulp...indigestion...”

“S.hane..?” A soft voice makes the gator grumble and open up one eye. He sees a pair of feet in front of him and looks up to see H.arvey leaning over him slightly. The goat seems a bit worried, frowning slightly. “If you’re having such a bellyache, maybe you should...spit S.ebastian and S.am out?” The muffled, yelling voices from the gator’s stomach seem to be in agreement, but S.hane isn’t.

“No...mmm, no, I got this...” S.hane mumbles. He starts to squeeze his gut harder, gritting his teeth and growling. He rocks back and forth, grinding his weight down on his stomach. It’s bubbling thickly, and the two men inside are starting to cry out louder. A crack rings out through the various noises, followed by a scream. S.hane squeezes harder and more start to follow. Wet snaps and crunches bubble out of S.hane’s gut, along with frantically yelling voices. Until a rumbling belch rolls out of the gator’s jaws followed by a very loud crunching sound that makes both men go silent at once.

“G-Good lord, S.hane...” H.arvey gapes as he watches the gator. S.hane huffs and puffs before he lets go of his gut and begins to wobble back onto his feet. The goat takes a step back, watching the dunkard rise. S.hane’s gut sloshes and burbles thickly, hanging down low with nothing but dead weight. Vague imprints of the two men inside bulge out the bottom of the gator’s stomach, but it’s clear they aren’t moving anymore. If anything, S.hane’s gut is having an easier time working on them now.

“Finally...” S.hane groans, rubbing his hands deeply into his gut. It bubbles and churns deeply, squishing under the kneading pressure. Another belch bubbles out of him and it sends one of S.ebastian’s shoes flying. It bounces off of H.arvey’s chest and hits the floor with a splat.

Out of instinct more than anything, H.arvey carefully picks it up, looking between the shoe and S.hane. “S.hane, you just...”

“Bwwwurp...oooh, is that Seb’s..? He’s gonna want that back...” S.hane wobble a bit and stumbles. Whether he was trying to lunge forward or just tripped is hard to tell, but his jaws snap down over not just the shoe, but H.arvey’s entire forearm. The goat’s eyes widen and he tries to pull away, but all that does is make the gator swallow in retaliation.

“Gah! S.hane, stop it! That’s my arm!” H.arvey tries to pull away again, but another swallow drags him in up to his shoulder. S.hane’s jaws open up, his breath reeking of death and booze. H.arvey can see his arm sunk down in the slick gullet and he knows he’s about to follow. “G.us! E.mil! I need some help over h--MMPH!” S.hane’s jaws snap down on H.arvey’s head and he continues gulping on instinct.

By the time E.mil comes over to find out why he was called, the blue parrot squawks at what he’s seeing. S.hane is slumped down against the wall, his massive gut resting in his lap as it boils loudly. H.arvey’s legs hang from his jaws, his head tipped back as he gulps them down. They’re kicking around wildly as it happens, H.arvey’s muffled screaming hard to hear deep in S.hane’s gut.

E.mil quickly rushes over and grabs onto H.arvey’s ankles, trying to pull. “S.hane, that’s not food! That’s H.arvey! Spit him out right now!” Despite his efforts, S.hane’s gullet proves a much stronger force, and E.mil makes no headway as H.arvey’s legs sink down deeper. He doesn’t realize that it’s pointless to try until it’s too late, and his hands sink down S.hane’s gullet at the same time as H.arvey’s feet. The parrot barely gets out a scream before the gator’s jaws snap down over his head and shoulders.

After about twenty minutes, S.hane comes waddling over to the bar. His guts sway and slosh heavily, bulging around with the weak squirms of H.arvey and E.mil. A groan escapes the gator and he belches deeply, blue feathers puffing out of his jaws. He manages to get to the bar and sits down on one of the stools. It creaks loudly under his weight. His gut squelches as it’s shoved up against the bar, and there’s a few cracks from it when he does. Someone inside shudders and goes slack.

“Another...Bwwwweeellllch...mmf, beer, G.us...” S.hane slurs out, leaning on the bar slightly. At this point, there’s so much meat bubbling in his stomach, he can probably drink a whole case of beer and not even get a little tipsy! Ignoring the fact that he’s already incredibly drunk at the moment.

“Think you’ve had enough beer for a lifetime...” C.lint mutters next to him. The panda brings his mug up to his muzzle as a way to mask it, but S.hane already heard him.

“Wha’ was that?” S.hane asks, turning his attention to his neighbor. “I can have another...hic...another beer if I want! Not hurtin’ anyone...”

“Oh, yeah, not hurting anyone,” C.lint repeats sarcastically, jabbing S.hane’s gut as he does. His finger sinks in with a squelch and a wet bubbling sound. S.hane belches deeply again, H.arvey’s glasses flying out of his maw and landing on the bar. 

S.hane growls a bit. “I’ll show you hurting..!” And he lunges, using his current immense weight to his advantage. Both him and C.lint topple over, taking the stools down with them as they crash to the ground. C.lint tries to yell and thrash, but he’s stuck under S.hane’s massive gut, and once those jaws come down on him, it’s already over.

G.us sighs as he watches S.hane pull himself up again, using the bar for leverage. A twitching pair of panda feet stick out of his maw, which snaps shut. A wet gulp sends the last of C.lint down and S.hane huffs out a low groan. He slumps down, head on the bar. “...beer...please.”

“I think I’m gonna have to cut you off for tonight, S.hane,” G.us says with a frown. “Now that all my other customers and my one other bartender are--” S.hane lets out a sickly belch, which is underlaid with C.lint’s very loud and angry screaming. “--indisposed...I think I’m just going to close early tonight.”

S.hane grumbles a bit as the polar bear turns around to start putting things away. C.lint keeps kicking in his stomach, making it bulge and slosh loudly. He just wants to wash all that meat down with one more drink. Is that too much to ask? He’ll just have to get behind the bar and get it himself...

...S.hane lets out a whine as he starts to come to, just to feel a splitting headache throbbing behind his eyes. He rubs at them slowly, wincing at the pain. He’s somewhere really uncomfortable and he feels like he swallowed a bag of cement. What happened..?

S.hane starts to push himself up slowly, which makes his gut shift and sag down into his lap. He blinks a few times as he looks down at it. It’s hanging out of his jacket, his shirt rising up to his chest. The gator stares at it for a moment and gives it a slight squeeze. God...

He also notices that something long and fluffy is hanging out of his jaws. It takes him a minute to recognize it as a raccoon tail. Isn’t that P.ierre’s..? It takes him over a minute to realize that he didn’t accidentally steal the raccoon’s tail from him, and that the heavy, sloshing thing in his gut is probably the rest of the shopkeeper. With a wet slurp, the tail is gone, and S.hane groans as he drags himself back to his feet.

The gator blearily looks around and finds himself at the tavern, behind the bar. He squints slightly in the morning light and starts to waddle along, hefting his gut as he does. G.us is going to kill him if he...a sharp groan from S.hane’s gut makes the thought stop in its tracks. Oh...right. S.hane’s the one that killed G.us, actually. Along with S.ebastian, S.am, H.arvey, E.mil, and C.lint. And apparently P.ierre, although the gator’s fuzzy memories definitely stop before that can be recalled. The racoon must have come in some time after G.us went down and S.hane ate him before passing out.

S.hane stumbles a bit more before his grunts groan loudly again and he winces. The gator pants as he leans himself on the bar with one hand, the other trying to rub and soothe his stomach. Eating seven people didn’t just leave him incredibly fat. He can feel the pressure down below building up rapidly. He’s gotta go...

It takes considerable effort for S.hane to get outside. His head still hurts and the early morning sun isn’t helping, but he needs somewhere he can leave all of...this. No one’s around right now, thankfully, so the gator quickly shuffles off to the side of the tavern where all the trash can’s are. S.hane fumbles with his pants and gets them down enough to expose his ass. He quickly lifts his tail up and relaxes with a groan.

In an instant, thick shit begins to squelch out of the gator’s ass and into the trash cans. S.hane can hear the thumps and thuds of dense logs landing in the metal bins and starting to heap up. His nose cringes at the horrible smell but he keeps going regardless. He can tell this is going to be a lot of work.

S.ebastian and S.am fill up most of the first can. The logs are dense and mostly solid, having baked the longest in S.hane’s digestive system. Bones can be easily make poking out of the dark waste, a stark white in contrast. What’s a bit harder to see is the rest of S.ebastian’s...leftovers, his gray fur and black hoodie much harder to distinguish as they slide out. S.am’s much brighter yellow fur and blue coat are harder to miss, though. The two skulls that come out, one for a wolf and one for a tiger, would be the best pieces of evidence over who was filling up the can.

S.hane had to quickly move onto the next bin, tossing the lid aside and practically sitting on it as he goes. Gas echoes inside, soon followed by more sputtering shit as H.arvey and E.mil slop out of him next. It’s incredibly smooth for S.hane, at least, the two of them coming out with little issue. E.mil’s bright blue feathers and H.arvey’s white fur tickles him the entire time, making the gator wiggle slightly and groan as he pushes them out. That soft green goat and red sweater vest those two always wear are much the same. S.hane stands up again once he feels the heat rising, sticking his ass up in the air just in time for E.mil’s skull to squeeze out, the beak cracked. It gets mostly buried by the next log, and H.arvey’s skull follows soon after, both of his horns snapped off and lost somewhere deeper in the can.

Despite coming up to the tail end of his morning dump, S.hane finds that he’s also at the worst of it. C.lint and G.us were big guys, being bears, and they remind the gator of that as he feels massive logs split him out as they slither out. It leaves him groaning and whining as each one passes, thick and solid with dense bones packed in. Even the tufts of brown and white fur don’t do much to alleviate the discomfort of squeezing them both out like this. The skulls are the worst of it, clogging the gator up as he gets to them. Crap pushes through their open jaws or eye sockets before he’s able to get them out, leaving two bear skulls to sit on top of the overflowing trash can in the end.

S.hane pants deeply once it’s done. He feels a lot lighter. He lowers his tail and steps away, about ready to pull his pants up again when another sudden and sharp pain hits him. S.hane squats down on instinct and groans as soft shit gushes out of him quickly. He forgot about P.ierre, who’s now heaping up on the ground against the three trash cans. It’s messy but fast, raccoon’s fur and bones giving the shit most of its structure. S.hane barely even notices when the skull slides out of him, just waiting for that empty feeling. As soon as he gets it, he stands up, wipes his ass off with a rag he took from G.us’s bar, and quickly waddles off while yanking his pants up.

The hungover gator doesn’t even want to look back and see the mess he’s made. His green scales are flushing red with embarrassment. That smell is going to waft through town for sure...and he’d rather be out on his farm by the time that happens. Hopefully, no one asks why he’s suddenly tripled in weight. At the very least...he’ll have an easier time quitting drinking now. The tavern isn’t going to be opening up for a long, long time...