Studying!

„What was he doing?” The King, Ali's father asked with a roaring, deep voice, looking at Ali right in the eyes, not knowing who he wanted beheaded was right before of him.

Ali's legs shook, his breath trembling, he always knew that the people of his kingdom saw his father intimidating, but now standing before him, he felt terrified of him. „W-well, uh. Sire... He was... studying, as you wished. My lord!” Ali bowed, hiding his horrified face and almost flowing tears from his father's gaze.

„Is that so?” The king said unsatisfied with the answer he had received. „That means... You spoke with him. Whatever counsel of words you said to him may be the cause of his disappearance. Isn't it?” The king stepped forward, coming closer to Ali's bowed body.

„N-no Sire! I would never!” Ali pleaded, keeping his head down to avoid his father's gaze, worried that he might tear up right before him.

„I do not believe you.” The king responded with a dead cold tone.

Before Ali could plead again, he felt his father's powerful palm grip his muzzle shut, before forcing his head to look at him. Ali could see the anger in his father's eyes, the rage, the disappointment. The grip tightened, almost crushing his jaw right there and then, forcing immense pain to the boy, as his father's claws stabbed the back of his head. The king raised him off the ground with only one palm, brought his tearing head closer to his, and stared deep into his eyes for a long time, while Ali failed to struggle off his painful grip. He saw the king sigh disappointed, then raised him further up above him.

Once he looked down, Ali saw his father's wide open muzzle right under him, with his naked feet at the verge of touching his tongue. Not long after, the king started lowering his body, his bare feet descending into his open muzzle, easily sliding down his gullet. Ali tried to scream, but his muzzle was still forced shut by the same hand that was lowering him down into his father's throat, he tried to kick and squirm, but his legs were already mushed together in his father's warm drool, slowly getting warmer and warmer. The king lowered Ali down his gullet without hesitation, even when his frightened tears fell off his hand. His big neck barely formed a bulge as Ali's smaller body went through it, his belly grew a little but not all that much. Ali's entire body got swallowed without mercy or any sign of stopping.

The king shoved the last bit of him, his head into his mouth, before finally letting go off his muzzle and letting him talk. „Dad, No!” Ali could only say before the king's muzzle sealed shut, and he swallowed one final time, sending Ali's head down his throat, into his awaiting belly.

Even with his father's huge size, his stomach still forced Ali to curl up painfully tight, into a fatal position he could barely get out of. He wiggled, kicked and screamed for his father to let him out, but only muffled whines were heard outside.

--||--

The pure Yakutian Laika, one of the three heads of the brotherhood, the king of the kingdom, walked back to his throne, where he sat down and listened to the squirming prey inside his stomach. He heard his last plea, that he claimed to be his son, which, made him smile, and pet his gut proudly. Blood of his blood, soon to be fat of his fat, will stop being such a shame to his kingdom, and rejoin with him, share the throne with him, even if he'll be just a few layers of flesh on his posterior. At least he'll experience how to be a part of something greater.

The king smiled, and waited for his supposed son to stop being a bother, and go down like a true warrior. Hours he spent listening to his screams, feeling each and single struggle, until his body finally stopped moving, and began breaking down. He helped with that matter, he used his big hands to compress his swollen gut, breaking the bones of his last kin down, helping it mix up better with the rest of the mush inside his stomach. A wide smile of satisfaction sat on his face, getting even wider whenever he heard the loud cracks his son's deceased body made within his gut. Once his belly completely softened, once no more cracks were heard, and no more solid matter for his hands to help break apart, he began massing his belly, helping whatever his son had become be processed further down.

When nightfall came again, the King had ordered another meeting with his guards, everyone gathered in his hall like before, with only one missing. His throne, which normally was perfectly designed for his posterior, had trouble fitting in the new size of his butt. It seemed like the prince decided to stick around quite a lot, it made the king's hips too wide for his mighty chair to withstand, and his pure white ass cheeks to bubble out with soft fleshing fat, that wobbled up and down whenever he dared to move. Though, even with his lower body stuffed with fat from the prince, the King still remained menacing. He explained that he himself took care of the problem he had ordered his guards to do, and that he was disappointed in them, more specifically the three canines the prince spent his time with without them noticing. But in the end, he thanked them for getting his son where he is now, and squared them away.

Once the throne room was empty once again, the King sat back down on his throne, squishing his hefty fluffy butt under him, before mocking his son one final time, then forgetting about him entirely. Spending a few days to burn off all the added fat on his legs, making his butt return to his glorious hefty look, and making the world forget about his son entirely.