"My lord," said Azata's royal advisor (and favorite cocksleeve), the one person in the royal court who *probably* wouldn't end up going down the same throne he served. "The uprising in the newly conquered province has been put down, rest assured they will be sending servants by sundown. However, we have a new problem; the mass disappearances in the villages surrounding the capital hae led to a state of panic, one that I fear may-" *PPFFFFRRRRTTT*

The king's attention suddenly picked up as a decidedly rancid burst of gas parted his cheeks, filling the throne room with the stink of eggy brimstone and spoiled meat. "Umpf, lecture's gotta take a break nerd, today's brunch is finally about to get his wish of escaping!" he said in a delighted voice as he perched himself against the Porcelain Throne, ass aimed over the seemingly bottomless pit that he nonetheless consistently managed to fill. "Speaking of which, get me a new concubine, I'm sure one of those new provinces can provide a handsome specimen~."

Another puff of shitfumes preceded the emergence of a knobbed tip of crap, hardened and molded by the king's ruthless guts into a formidable log somehow even taller and wider than the human that made it. The gnarled tree trunk was pushed out rapidly by Azata's bowels, the concubine's crappy remains ejected with the same speed at which he was devoured. Acid-pitted bones, stripped bare for parts, were embedded in the rocky length like fossils, the only proof of his meal's humanity, not that it'd help identify him. As soon as the singular turd had emerged, it plopped out of his donut like an especially large and rancid raindrop, dropping down into the darkness of the king's toilet, lost to time...least until he had to send some sucker down to unclog the damn thing again. His donut was left with an impressive gape, out of which trumpeted a deep and bassy *BRAAAAP* with a volume comparable to the royal trumpets.

"Ah~, always so satisfying getting rid of those losers, somehow it feels even better than when they're struggling and shouting. In fact, I'm feeling empty back there again already..." he glanced back at his advisor, visibly sickened by the sheer stink polluting the air. The impromptu burial by shitpipe probably wasn't much better for his general mood. "Heh, softie~," Azata teased, "Now, back to business! Oh, and about those missing villagers, tell the search and rescue team to check the septic tank~."

______

Part 2 of my comm from  killergrizzly because I'm predictable! What's the point of designing a thicc boy butt if it ain't used for its intending purpose: dropping *phat* logs made from the last hunk of shitfuel who got too close to you!

bastard: Feed my ego by rambling about my bois hehe

Post a comment