"Greetings and salutations, Sportacus. This is the Mayor; it would seem we have a bit of an issue here at the house. You see, Stephanie's ninth birthday party is later today, but we can't possibly finish setting up all the decorations needed for it. I would like to request your assistance as soon as possible." The Mayor, Milford Meanswell's letter to Sportacus ended. "Odd," Milford thought, "Sportacus should be home from his morning run by now. Oh, well, I'm sure he'll come by when he gets a chance." He got back to setting up ribbons by the door way for his niece, Stephanie.
With a jump, a flip, and another flip, Sportacus entered the scene "Hello Mayor Meanswell," Sportacus said, "I'm sorry I'm late, I just got home from running some errands when I got your message, so I hurried over as quick as possible." Sportacus looked Milford up and down, noticing his new outfit. Although the suit was an honestly disgusting shade of yellow, comparable to mustard, Sportacus assured the mayor, "I see you have a new party suit, Mayor! It looks fantastic on you." The mayor smiled, seeing the massive, muscular hunk of man-meat before him. "Oh my," the mayor said, "Well, it certainly is nice to have you here, Sportacus; we couldn't do this without you." Sportacus blushed, "Oh Mayor, I'm nothing special, really. Just a slightly above average hero." But the Mayor insisted, "No, seriously. I'm very happy you're here, I want this party to be a total surprise for everyone. Anyway, I suppose we should get to work. You take that side of the living room, and I'll finish what I'm doing here." With that, Sportacus dabbed and began his work.
Looking over, Milford noticed Sportacus working, and flipping, like a madman. Every move he made was graceful, and every decoration he set was perfect. While watching the acrobatic superman do his dance, the Mayor noticed Sportacus's rippling muscles underneath his tight, blue tracksuit. After staring for a moment too long, the Mayor let out a low growl, just loud enough for Sportacus to hear. Glancing over his shoulder, Sportacus saw Milford watching his every move, unblinking. "Maybe… No, he's not. But, could he be? At me?" Sportacus flexed his already taut buttocks and wiggled his hips just a bit, hoping to entrance the man behind him further. "Hmm, interesting. But, there is more work to be done, and a cake to be baked." Sportacus thought, leaving the living room to continue his work in the kitchen.
"Um, Uncle Milford? Sorry to bother you, but I think Robbie Rotten has been a little bit weirder than usual. He's been more friendly, which is a good thing, but he's being a bit too touchy. I don't know what to do." Stephanie said nervously as she entered the room that now only contained one man, the Mayor. "Well, Stephanie, maybe you shouldn't dress like a whore and old men wouldn't look at you like that. On top of that, you ruined your surprise birthday party. When will you stop being so useless you stupid fucking bitch?" Stephanie looked at her uncle in shock, up until now he had been the most supportive person in her life. But now, he was calling her these awful names, so she didn't know what to think. "B-but, Uncle Milford, I-" The Mayor interrupted her, "Jesus fucking Christ, do you ever shut up about your simple little problems. NO one gives a fuck about some creep eyeing you up outside your home, just get down on your knees and do something useful with your life." Choking back tears, Stephanie ran out of the room into the kitchen, hoping to find someone who would listen to her and give her advice. "Oh, Stephanie," Sportacus said, looking down at the pink girl before him, "You're here early, is something wrong?" Stephanie, still sniffling, but no longer crying, looked up at the muscular man, "Yes, Sportacus, I don't know what's going on, but Uncle Milford is acting unusual." Sportacus blushed, remembering the scene that had just taken place minutes before; although, he never actually stopped thinking about it. "Yes, I do believe you are right, young Stephanie. But, I must say, I like this new change." Stephanie looked back at Sportacus, shocked again. "Both of you are horrible!" She escaped the hostile environment again with tears on her cheeks.
The party started without any further incidents. Everyone was there to celebrate the growing Stephanie. Even Robbie Rotten was there, sitting in the back of the room, carefully watching Stephanie's every move, but being sly enough to not be caught doing so. Earlier, when he went in for a hug and a kiss from Stephanie, she gave him the cold shoulder, and wouldn't even embrace him back. "After all I do for the little slut, and this is how she repays me?" Robbie said to himself, under his breath. "But with Sportacus and the Mayor here, I can't do much about this situation, let alone the situation in my pants. For now, I'll keep sitting here, waiting for those two to leave, and watching Stephanie. Oh, the cake is out! My favorite!"
As the cake was brought out, the Mayor noticed Sportacus's bulging biceps carrying the dish to the table, and as he bent over to fetch a knife to cut the cake, the mayor observed Sportacus's taut, enlarged quads. "Oh my…" Milford said as his slice of cake was passed to him from across the table. Once everyone had their piece, it was time to dig in. The Mayor and Sportacus sat next to each other, Sportacus fighting his every urge to grab Milford and plant a kiss on his soft, chubby cheeks. Instead grabbing hold of the Mayor's thighs under the table, hoping to not be seen by any of the other party-goers. As he felt the grip on his leg, the Mayor dropped his bite of cake onto his shirt. "I am so sorry, Milford, I didn't mean to-" the Mayor interrupted him, "No, no, it's alright, really. Just a bit of cake." Sportacus still felt remorseful, though, "At least let me help you clean up, Mayor. Let's go to the laundry room and get you a change of clothes ;)." They both headed to the laundry room, and the party continued as if no one had noticed their departure.
Sportacus looked at the man in front of him, alone again. Sure, he was balding, and a little fat. But, the way he looked at Sportacus could only mean one thing: The Mayor wanted him. He ripped off his shirt in one go, then grabbed a hold of Milford's sides, and leaned in for a kiss. "Sportacus, no, we can't" The mayor of Lazy Town gasped between labored breaths, unable to hide his excitement for the coming event. His heart felt like it was about to burst, not unlike the bulge in Sportacus's tight track pants. "But, Mayor. We were meant to be together." Sportacus whined, clutching Milford tightly against his toned, muscular, bare chest. "Oh, my" Mayor Meanswell said, "But… But we must think of the others. What of Stephanie? Or of Ms. Busybody?" Sportacus shook his head lightly as he wiggled his pointed mustache against his lover's lips, staring into his dead, puppet eyes. "Forget them, Milford. Only focus on me." The Mayor still held his look of consternation, though. Seemingly unable to break his train of thought to focus only on the beautiful, strong man in front of him. His worries and fears were washed away at the second sight of Sportacus's bulging quads in his skin-tight pants, riding up to perfectly contour his ass. "It's just… Here? At the party? In the laundry room? I had imagined this moment to be somewhere a little more… Private." Sportacus lightly chuckled at his nervous, little pet. "Don't pretend you don't want it. I can feel you, you know? I can't imagine that you pressing your hard cock against me is an accident." The Mayor looked up, confused. "But… Sportacus. I don't even have a penis." Sportacus looked back, equally confused, "Wut?" Milford continued, "Yeah, I'm a puppet. I don't have any genitalia." Sportacus sighed, "Oh… Then, what is it… that's poking me in the thigh?" The Mayor guffawed "OH! That's just a Tide Stain Stick© that I keep in my pocket always. This isn't the first party I've been to, you know ;)."
Sportacus looked down at his feet, ashamed of his mistake, and mourning the loss of a new lover. "Wait, I've thought of something! A solution!" The mayor met eyes with the robust figure before him, awaiting his words. Still waiting. Still waiting. "Well? What is it then?" The mayor finally blurted out, annoyed with Sportacus's delay in relaying his decision. Sportacus laughed, his still hard cock pushing against the mayor's velveteen body. "Well, you see, last summer when I was still with Robbie, I-" Milford cut him off. "You know I don't like when you talk about your exes, Sporty." Grinning, Sportacus whispered, "Call me daddy, loverboy. Now, what I was saying was that Robbie is a bit of an ass-slut. I would lube up my fist and pound his boy-pussy for hours while I stroked his massive chin." Sportacus let a little drool dribble out of his slightly agape mouth, reminiscing about his past experiences with his tall, skinny, yet chubby ex. Not exactly a twink, but certainly not a bear, or even fat for that matter, more like a twinkie than anything. Sportacus did say snacks were okay in moderation, after all.
"Daddy, look at me." The mayor said, "Stop thinking about Robbie, and look at the man in front of you." Sportacus apologized "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, it's just… Robbie has…" Milford, again, interrupted his Sportacus, "A fantastic ass, I know. But that doesn't mean I want to be ignored." Sportacus attempted to make an apology again, "You're right, I'm sorry. From now on, it's just you and me, no Robbie, or anyone else will-" The mayor shushed him with a finger over Sportacus's soft, tender lips. "Don't worry about that, just tell me one thing. You want to fuck my soft, cotton-filled, puppet boy-pussy with your fist, right?" Sportacus looked down at his lover, happy to find someone willing to go down to his level of depravity. "Only yours, my plump little mustard ball."
Cautiously, Mayor meanswell slipped off his yellow suit pants, revealing a delicate hem mostly covering his virgin asshole. "I suppose we'll have to take care of that." Sportacus said, grinning like a child in a toy store whose parents just let him take home the toy of his dreams. He reached down, tightly, but lovingly clutching the Mayor's soft love handles. First, taking a lick along the roughly done seam, like a kitten attempting to drink milk from a bowl. "Oh my…" Milford said. Then, with his strong hands, Sportacus grabbed the Mayor by his lower cheeks and tore him a new asshole, literally.
Sportacus, ignoring Milford's pleads to go slower, or at least more gently, shoved his whole hand into his pet's newfound fuckhole. Without stopping, Sportacus pushed his arm in further. To his elbow, then up to his shoulder. "OH, DADDY 3!" the Mayor cried, close to the limit of his hunger. "GIVE ME MORE, MY DUDE!" Sportacus began thrusting his entrenched arm in and out of Milford's torn, cotton-filled asshole. "THAT'S IT, YOU WHORE, TAKE ME ALL THE WAY!"
"As you wish." The mustard man slowly turned his head 180 degrees to look at the now trapped Sportacus in the eyes. "Wait, let me out!" Sportacus pleaded, but to no avail. He could no longer retract his arm, no matter how much muscle, or strength, he put behind his attempts. Milford Meanswell's jaw unhinged, and blood shot out of his gullet to paint pentagrams on the floors and walls around him and his prey. "Blandeque Meo! Blandeque Meo! Bandeque Meo et inerficiet te! Et absorbet endustria vestra!" With his eyes now glowing a devilish red, a vortex stemming from the Mayor's own asshole began consuming Sportacus. The mayor's sadistic smile grew larger the harder Sportacus struggled to break free, knowing that his fight was futile. "What- What is this?!" Milford said nothing, only staring intensely into his victim's eyes. Relishing the petrified face Sportacus, the man who shortly before would have given anything to be with the Mayor, was making.
Sportacus's uphill battle only continued as he plead with anyone who could hear him, but the dryer muffled his cries for help. "God… Please. Help me…" The once bright and shining eyes dulled as the last of his broken body was sucked into the black hole that was the mayor's asshole. "In Lazy Town there is no God. Only me." From the depths of the Mayor's gaping rectum, Sportacus's final words rang true. A whisper with the last of his strength, "God is dead." Milford smiled, "Oh my… that was a bit more than expected." He searched the laundry room for something to complete the seal. A sewing kit. As he bent over to begin suturing his ruptured ass crack, a noise came from the entrance to the room.
"Uncle Milford… I heard a noise, is everything alright in here?" The Mayor looked at his niece, and upon finishing the final stitch, only said "Sportacus is no more." With a sportaflip, Milford escaped through an open window and ran until he was no longer in sight. "But… But uncle, who will be in charge now?" Robbie entered the room. Putting both hands on young Stephanie's shoulders, he whispered in her ear, "I guess I will be the new man in charge here." With a shudder down Stephanie's spine, she nodded, holding back tears and biting her lip. "Yes, Mayor Rotten."