Author's Note

anonymous asked:
What's your most disgusting fantasy scenario that still turns you on?

Garbage Disposal [gross, semi-dark, force feeding, stuffing, inflation, weight gain, slob, flattening]

Picture an ordinary day - garbage day, it so happens to be - and everyone’s favorite Pep is taking out the trash. He walks out to the dumpsters in the alley beside his building, drops off the bag, and turns to leave when he spots a remarkably pristine pizza box sitting unopened atop one of the dumpsters. Scanning around, no one seems to be nearby, so he opens it up: there was, unsurprisingly, a pizza, and it was still hot and untouched. What kind of idiot throws away a perfectly good pizza? Licking his lips eagerly, he snatches a large slice from the box and starts to chow down.

About halfway through his second slice, a rather large pony turns into the alley and stumbles upon the skinny pegasus eating the “trash.” Already thoroughly embarrassed, he’s taken by surprise as the pony angrily pins him against a bin – apparently not very fond of dumpster dwellers.

Before he can explain, the stranger has grabbed up another two slices of the pizza and crams them into Pepci’s mouth. He chews for a second before the rest of the pizza follows, purple cheeks bulging out and dribbling with fatty grease. He chomps into the huge mass for a moment before swallowing, just in time for a wad of something else to be shoved into his maw, tasting faintly of liquor, chocolate, and orange. The odd combination isn’t the worst thing Pep’s ever tasted, but it's hardly pleasant. He cringes and tries not to chew it for too long before choking it down, the other pony’s hooves clamping his muzzle shut so he can’t spit it out.

Pep writhes in protest as the pony pries his mouth back open, reaches into one of the dumpsters, and starts shoveling hoofful after hoofful of apple cores, half-eaten sandwiches, and empty soda cans down the poor pony’s gullet. Several times he feels close to retching, while some mouthfuls grant him only a slightly unpleasant taste. His belly hangs below him, growing slowly with the added weight before eventually sagging onto the ground.

Eventually, the other pony’s rage seems to fade into a tired annoyance, and they let out a little hmph before tossing what they have left in their hoof at him and stalking away. Pep slumps down on his swollen belly and lets out a little belch, making a face at the taste. Rolling forward and back, he finds he can’t quite reach the ground with all four legs, so he flares his wings and attempts to lift himself off the ground – no good. He's too weighed-down.

Before he has time to come up with a new plan, another pony enters the alley, trash can in tow. They pause and look him over for a moment, taking in the pizza box and the bits of trash draped over his distended stomach. With a shrug, they roll the bin closer and pull out a full, nearly pony-sized trash bag, and as he opens his mouth for a panicked “Wait!”, they stuff it into his maw, pushing it back into his throat before following it with another four bags. Trash bin now emptied, the pony waltzes away, exiting the alley just in time for Pep to catch his breath and call out to them for help.

Groaning in annoyance, he fumbles around on his stuffed tum, already approaching the size of the dumpster behind him. He wriggles for a moment longer before a loud beeping meets his ears, and a large truck roars into the alley. Uh oh.

The garbage truck screeches to a stop in front of him, and a pair of garbageponies step out, grinning at the sight. “What, we got a new dumpster?” One asks. Pep glares indignantly at them, and they snicker for a few seconds before the other says, “Let’s help him out.” Somewhat hopeful, Pep watches as one climbs back into the truck, and he raises an eyebrow. How could they help him out of this from there?

Suddenly, the arm on the side of the truck extends, reaching past him and lifting up another dumpster, while at the same time, the pony next to Pepci gives him a predatory grin and forces his mouth open with both hooves. The dumpster hovers overhead momentarily before lowering down to eye-level and tipping over, and the garbagepony stretches Pep’s mouth cartoonishly wide over the lip just as a wave of trash comes spilling out, filling up the purple stallion's mouth, throat and stomach even further. The pony next to him reaches into Pep’s maw and stomps down on the backed-up load, forcing the rest of it down into his stomach.

Pepci gasps and coughs for a moment as the arm fetches another dumpster, and then another, the process repeating until all of the dozen or so dumpsters in the alley have been emptied and the purple pony quite un-emptied. Laughing to themselves, the garbageponies realign the dumpsters against the walls of the buildings, placing the bloated pegasus inconspicuously among them.

Over the next few days and weeks, word spreads through the two buildings of the stallion’s plight, and he quickly becomes the most popular dumpster (a title he accepts quite reluctantly) of the alley. Ponies from other buildings around the block begin bringing their trash bags to the alley to feed into growing purple pone, stuffing him bigger and fuller each day. His digestive system races to keep up with the constant supply, his skinny body plumping up rapidly from the fatty loads of junk. Even the assortment of cans, bottles, plastics, and other containers mixed in among the waste is gradually melted down into goop as his stomach grows stronger, his tubby form very nearly taking on the shape of a dumpster itself.

Ponies take trips down the alley on occasion, tossing a banana peel or candy wrapper in Pep’s mouth as they pass, while others climb on top of his tummy and make use of his immobility to blow a load or two into the warm dumpster’s rear. When not in use as such, the pegasus’s backside is firmly plugged up, so as to keep his own processed waste trapped within him as well.

Realizing there’s no longer a need for the other dumpsters in the alley, the garbage collection department removes them. Soon after, they begin to remove others in the vicinity, as well as rerouting the local garbage trucks to bring the collected trash from all around town to dump into the new community waste bin.

Pepci soon outgrows the narrow alley, and with the assistance of a few powerful vehicles, the big purple tub is dragged out and relocated just outside of town, where all garbage from the townsponies is now directed.

Well, if we’re feeding all our trash into this pony, reasons the mayor, why not all our waste in general? A long, thick metal pipe embedded in the banks of the lake has been dumping the town’s sewage into the water, polluting it to the point of toxicity. In an effort to sanitize the water, Pepci is moved once again, now residing much nearer to the lake, and the sewage pipe is dug up and redirected to the lavender landfill. Luckily, the town officials show him some measure of mercy, deciding not to make the poor stallion drink the sewage; rather, the pipe is fed into his rump, and Pep is stretched incredibly wide around the two-foot-thick metal pole pumping the thick dark sludge into his depths.

After some time, Pepci’s size surpasses what is believed to be a safe limit. Now close to the size of a small building, the feathered blob is disconnected from the pipe, transported to the garbage collection agency, and brought around to the garage. He gulps nervously as he takes in the sight before him: an industrial-size compactor, built to reduce cars, trucks, and tons upon tons of waste to mere bricks. Pep absently squeezes a hoofful of flesh on his belly as he watches an assortment of auto parts and gnarled chunks of metal disappear into the compactor, only to be replaced seconds later by a neat, tidy little cube. That doesn't exactly bode well for a soft, squishy body.

The crew of garbageponies slowly feed the purple stallion's water balloon-like form into the compactor, and the operator seated in front of the control panel press the ON button. The compactor roars to life and squeezes tightly against Pepci, the vile mixture in his gut sloshing around and threatening to squirt out both ends of his body like a fountain, if not for the smooth walls pressing in on him from all sides. He grunts as the pressure outside and inside his body rapidly builds, his form feeling tighter and heavier by the second.

All of a sudden, the compression ceases, and the compactor emits a metallic hiss. After a silent moment, the walls slowly pull away to reveal a small purple cube resting on the floor, with Pepci’s flattened features visible on the sides.

The extremely dense pone-block is then taken away, with the help of a forklift, back to the alley alongside his building, where he is left beside a shiny new dumpster.