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Asriel clutched up fistfuls of golden flowers, teeth grit in bitter contempt as delicate petals ripped and thin milky blood oozed into his fur. He had been tormenting these flowers endlessly, to the bane of his mother; sweet Toriel, whom never caught him in the act, and indeed had no idea of his very being. What meaning the flowers had once held was twisted into something vile and wrong. Asriel ripped them up with pleasure. But he paced himself, never weeding too many of them, always leaving some for Toriel to harvest for seeds. New things to rip up; an endless cycle of petty destruction.

But then, the monotony was broken up as it occasionally was. Somebody new fell down the rabbit hole and into the musty Wonderland of the Underground. It was not a child, but an adult from the surface. Not a soul to be harvested, for the Barrier had been shattered years before, but another lost surface dweller to be guided home.

The monsters whom had not fled the Underground stayed and visited out of nostalgia or to guide fallen ones home - one such reason Toriel made regular pilgrimages back to the flower bed.

Asriel's motives were not so noble. His personality, driven by bitterness cooped up in a body given form by hatred, saw him often toying with those who fell into what he deigned his realm.

The prostrate body of Oliver lay quiet and stunned on the grassy earth beneath the hole. Asriel knelt close by. His earnest posture and flowing garment bearing the inverted crest of the Delta Rune made him a reflection of his kind mother. His blackened markings, tattoos given shape by his billowing ill will, gave him the look of a photo negative in places, but the analogy was especially apparent in the black sclera of his eyes. These he trained down on Oliver, lips drawn up and fangs dripping infrequently with saliva. Oliver was exactly the kind of mortal from the surface whom Asriel loved to stumble across.

In spite of the hateful nature of Asriel's very being, he tended to Oliver's wounds with an application of his magic powers. When the otter stirred, he found himself lain across the lap of an imposing goat whom sneered down at him. Oliver forced a smile. "I think I'm hurt."

"You will ache," Asriel said dismissively, "but so shall you live. If children can survive the fall into the Underground, you should not be so fast to coddle your wounds."

In relief to his flowery but icy language, Asriel stroked Oliver's naked breast. He had fallen down with clothing. It was nowhere to be found.

"Um," Oliver puffed, not necessarily minding the goat's touch but cupping his paw, "where--, where did my clothes go?"

"Your clothing," Asriel tonelessly repeated. He smirked. "A fine question, fallen one. Pilfered by the maggots who choose to remain in this pit of despair, I am sure," he lied. "You have fallen into the Underground, personal hell of the monsters for centuries." He pouted out his breast then, popping his blasphemous Delta Rune outwards. "And I, surface dweller, am Asriel Dreemurr - prince of this world."

A look of bemusement settled on Oliver's snout. Asriel recognized the expression. Nobody from the surface ever knew just whom they were addressing. He let loose a titanic sigh and rolled his eyes sharply not just at Oliver, but at every creature from the surface he had ever met.

Aware of the exasperation but not quite sympathetic to the plight, Oliver sat up and rubbed his behind. It had taken the brunt of his landing. "I think I've heard about this place. The Underground, I mean," he murmured. As he stood up, so did Asriel. The strange goat towered above Oliver but was not terribly broad nor stout. His robes hid the shape of his body, hanging plainly from his shoulders, and he therefore appeared lanky.

"Can you help me get out of here?" Oliver tightly asked. He looked up at the hole and squinted. Sunlight poured in. Asriel followed his gaze and scoffed quietly at something.

"You wish to leave, is that so," Asriel dryly said. "Curiosity sated, the lutrine fool from the world above wishes to leave this little oubliette and all those still remaining, hm?"

Oliver cracked a wry smile. "I guess you could put it like that."

Asriel frowned. He folded his arms across his emblem and snorted. "If you must," said the goat, his voice tainted by bitterness. "Follow me."

Like the mortals from the surface before him, Oliver was led through the ruins by one of the Dreemurr family; but where Toriel was doting and thoughtful, Asriel was cruelly playful, making Oliver's trek treacherous and puzzling. No other life stirred in the cold stone walls, leaving the otter and goat alone to stew in budding malice.

"These puzzles are so simple, an idiot child could solve them," snorted the prince. "And yet you struggle - perhaps your village threw you down the hole to be rid of their chief fool."

Oliver was not keen to give Asriel the satisfaction of seeing his anger, but it festered. Anger, fear, and growing loneliness all added up to resentment for the condescending monster. That he was without his clothing and forced to run about the ruins nude was gnawing at him too, and it was that which he chose to complain about first, hoping to work himself up to confronting Asriel on other terms.

"If you know so much and you're so important in this dump, then why do I have to do your stupid puzzles naked?"

At this, Asriel laughed out loud. It was harsh and taut, as though the joy had been surgically extracted from it. "Self-conscious, are you?" He splayed his arms, elbows bent and palms open, gesturing at the uncaring brick walls of the ruins. "And whom is here to look at you and judge you? Besides myself," he sneered, "but fear not, for I would judge you harshly even with your vestures."

The otter grunted. Though shameless in the nude, he covered his groin on principle and lashed his rudder in visible agitation. "Look, would you give me some clothes? Or at least stop being such--, such an asshole, okay?"

Asriel recoiled at the profanity. His smirk faltered then twisted then into something more heinous. "Such charming colloquialisms you bring with you," he tutted with punctuation in the form of a finger wag. "Yet if I am to be your chaperone, I suppose that your comfort has some infinitesimally small value..." With that, Asriel sniggered and theatrically crashed his palms together as a crackle of a spark erupted from his fingertips. A gout of flame rushed up through the sleeves of his robes, enveloping the arms in an inferno spreading hungrily to the rest of the garment.

Oliver gasped in well-meaning panic and reached awkwardly, uselessly for Asriel, then retracted his paw from the intense heat. He backpedaled a step but rocked back and forth on his heel anxiously.

The robes fell away in clumpy ash which did not stain Asriel's tattooed form. A smokescreen hung in the air, held in place by the still, stale atmosphere of the ruins. Asriel stepped through the smoke and emerged two paces from Oliver, nude to match the otter, indeed wearing nothing but his smirk. And again he smugly outstretched his arms, this time for a gesture inward. "There. I assume you no longer feel so underdressed."

It took Oliver time to shake away the shock of having seen Asriel engulfed in roaring flame, but his hurried appraisal of the goat changed his opinion on the merits of sex appeal alone. Asriel was tall and athletic, toned every place Oliver put his eyes. His downy white fur was a tapestry of billowing runes and long-meaningless symbols from the Underground's checkered past and it was impossible to focus on any one glyph. And then Oliver looked at his penis. Perhaps a result of choosing his own form, Asriel was exceptionally well hung even flaccid as he was then. His uncircumcised penis hung past the middle of his thighs, resting at a slight curve over his heavy scrotum.

"Well? Does my form offend you, surface dweller?" Asriel snidely asked, bringing his paws to rest on his hips.

"Um," the otter mumbled, blushing. "Call me Oliver."

"Perhaps at another time, surface dweller," Asriel tutted. He spun on his heel, intentionally offering Oliver a look at his rear below a small tuft of a tail. Like the rest of him, his behind was simply perfect. "Come along, perhaps you will better solve these trifling puzzles now that your modesty is not at the forefront of your thoughts," said Asriel with a tone approaching playfulness. He started to walk and kicked a clump of ash left by his robes, breaking it apart into fluffy lumps of black, charred fabric and orange embers.

Oliver was savvy and unabashedly attracted to other men. Asriel was being outright blunt, Oliver thought. His pondering was interrupted by a sharp ache in his ribs. It caused him to gasp and rest against the cool brick wall.

Tellingly, Asriel whipped around as soon as he heard the otter's tiny cry. His penis wagged in the grip of inertia. "What is it now, surface dweller?" he asked, lumping on all the annoyance he possibly could and bracing his palms on his hips. "Do you mean to imply I did not heal your wounds well enough?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean to imply," Oliver snapped. A dark blue stain lingered beneath his cream-hued belly fur. "I haven't felt like this since I fell down the stairs and broke a rib."

The goat rolled his eyes so dramatically that his head curved along with them. "Prone yourself and cease this bellyaching," he barked. "I will better heal you if it will silence you."

Forcing a grin through the pain, Oliver sat, then eased onto his back. In a strained voice, he said, "You have a cute butt, but your bedside manner is shit, Asriel."

"Shit!" Asriel sputtered, then jerked his head from exit to exit, ears sagging back. "Hmph. What a foul mouth you sport." He knelt beside Oliver and, though the contact was unnecessary, pressed his splayed palms into the otter's belly. Oliver yelped and flinched.

Being healed by Asriel in a state of consciousness was the strangest thing Oliver had ever felt. His pain dissipated rapidly. He felt something shift - a bone settling back into place and knitting itself. He did not know for certain that it was happening, but in a peculiar way, he did. It was the aftertaste of Asriel's powers which was most bizarre of all; Oliver's emotional state was unchanged but he could feel the hatred behind the goat's magic soaking into him like radiation. In the wake of the healing, Oliver looked up at Asriel with a wary expression. Asriel answered it with a sneer.

"Yes, what is it, surface dweller? Do you stare in awe of me? You are quite right to do so."

"Something like that," Oliver mumbled. "We should keep moving."

But Asriel pushed Oliver down with a single palm on his breast. Asriel's strength was subtle in this context but Oliver had the feeling there was more hidden beneath the surface.

"I do not believe so, Oliver," Asriel said, his smirk unchanging, eyes softening. "You are far from the first surface dweller to fall down here. Since the rending of the Barrier, that is."

Oliver realized that in spite of knowing Asriel to be powerful and hateful, he had not feared the goat until that particular moment. He gnawed on his lower lip, then quietly, factually said, "I don't want to die."

The goat screwed his expression up into distaste. "Die? I will not kill you," he grunted. "The Underground is really quite small. Places to bury you would be few," he stated, his grin reappearing in grand form.

Gently for a creature so driven by anger, Asriel stroked down Oliver's belly. Even as plain as his paw's trajectory was, Oliver managed to gasp when Asriel grasped his penis.

"You are quite well-endowed," the goat said with little inflection. He kneaded Oliver's uncut member and coaxed it to stiffen quickly. His touch was skilled and respectful. "The last surface dweller before you was not so impressive. A flawless young man by any other measure. Lovely long hair, cunning intellect; he made for a fascinating sparring partner in his time among these cursed walls."

"Um," Oliver puffed, finding himself gyrating into Asriel's lazy masturbation, "what happened to him?"

Asriel worked up a smirk again and met Oliver's eyes dead-on. "There is a quaint little home up this path. A woman from my past once resided there, but now it holds only echoes of sentiment and the lingering odor of butterscotch." He tugged down Oliver's foreskin and shocked him with a teasing lick across the glans. "I took him there. And in her bed, I discovered that he," Asriel chuckled ruefully, "had a pitiful endowment. A tiny cock as a filthy mouth such as yours may jeer."

The otter smiled dumbly, partially in pleasure. "Oh."

"And so," the goat stroked down sharply on Oliver's penis several times, "because his member was far from a satisfactory size for such a discerning monster as myself, I reversed our roles and savagely entered him," said Asriel with a sordid rumble.

Oliver's penis throbbed suddenly in Asriel's palm. The otter was wide-eyed and grinning tightly. His rudder swished against the floor, making a repetitive whisper. "Mmm. Fuck. Well, don't stop now."

"What a disgusting creature," huffed Asriel, his smirk wide and toothy. Still he masturbated Oliver. "To show arousal at such a tale."

Oliver looked down quickly. Asriel was stiff too, his penis dense and powerful. Looking back up at the goat's black eyes, he teased, "What a disgusting creature to show arousal at telling such a tale."

The monster prince frowned and puffed, ceasing his stroking.

Knowing he had Asriel's number was infinitely amusing to Oliver. He sat up and barely noticed the total lack of pain in his body. First he kissed the goat, but only a smooch on the cheek, barely acknowledged. But when he grasped Asriel's impressive cock, the edgy goat puffed and cooed.

"If you really must hear this tale," he groused.

"I don't have to," Oliver grinned, pushing his lips against Asriel's neck, "but it sure makes for exciting foreplay. So you savagely entered him..."

A single, humorless laugh escaped Asriel. He slid an arm around Oliver's back and possessively held him near. "Yes, I entered him," he murmured, looking for his mental bookmark. It was with a bit of triumph that he said, "Ah, yes," and then continued. "I expected him to yowl and fuss. When I tasted his anus, I could not help but realize how very snug it was," he said, his tone low and sinister. Not surprisingly, this inflection added arousing menace to his tale.

"Yet when I penetrated him, heh! How he moaned, how he curled his toes and begged of me for more, please more. I'll admit, I prefer so little to be the dominant party, but this was a rare moment where I believe it was the better arrangement. His snug flesh milked me."

"God," Oliver puffed.

"Again and again, I made her bed bounce and creak, pounding its frame into the wall. And when I came, it was as if I had fulfilled that boy's every desire. I was made savage when I had my orgasm," he snorted, bucking into Oliver's paw as though to demonstrate. "I wrapped my fingers about his hair, spun its silk about my fist. I pulled. I yanked him taut like a miserable bowstring," he cruelly laughed. "And still he begged me with dampened eyes, please, Asriel, please, I am yours. Oh, he was. How I loathed to send him back home."

Oliver squeezed Asriel's full cock until its pink glans turned a brief shade of purple. Pre shot from its tip and Asriel grunted his satisfaction. "You should have me like that," Oliver quietly said.

"No," Asriel replied in a flat tone. "I've waited too long for a fallen soul of your noteworthy caliber," he tutted. "I will not be denied my chosen pleasures." And with that, as if stating them put his priorities back in line, Asriel shoved Oliver away and forced him to lie back. Right in the margins of the lifeless corridor, the prince swung his strong leg around Oliver's torso and head. He lowered his taut ass down and ground it against the otter's short snout.

"I'm certain you know exactly what is being demanded of you, Oliver," Asriel barked. Perhaps to sweeten the deal, perhaps because he was simply in love with Oliver's cock, Asriel bent down and engulfed the otter's shaft in his warm, tight lips. He started to suckle and bob on the swollen meat. Oliver crowed with pleasure and curled his toes, then tugged apart Asriel's cheeks with no reservations as to their royalty. He sniffed then smooched the pink pucker between them, and Asriel joined Oliver in curling his toes. He exhaled through his nostrils and doubled down with his suckles.

Oliver commenced lapping and kissing Asriel's flawless entrance. It winked against his soft lips and tongue, and the stubby tuft above it wiggled. Oliver released the cheeks and stroked along the goat's strong back. His touch worshiped Asriel's taut body as his tongue did the same, yet much more selectively. Every lick and kiss dripped lust, and so did his cock drool into the prince's maw which suckled and bobbed eagerly. The goat exhibited wonderful skill and technique; Oliver did his best to reciprocate.

Asriel cupped a palm around Oliver's balls and held them firmly. More warmth than his body temperature alone radiated into the flesh, a tiny sampling of his fire magic put to benevolent use. Oliver whimpered in bliss, legs drifting wide apart. Past his little cry, only wet suckles permeated the air, engulfed in the massiveness of the chamber.

As pleasure rose, Asriel gyrated his rear against Oliver's snout. Subtle anal musk filled the otter's nostrils and Asriel partook of him in much the same way, drawing in deep nasal breaths from Oliver's scrotum when he pushed his snout down all the way.

Because of Oliver's persistent rimming, Asriel was hard as stone and dribbling his pre into the fur on Oliver's breast. He idly rubbed his toes against the stone of the floor and wiggled his tail all the more in a display of pleasure. Oliver was too involved in his oral exploration of the prince's rear to notice, but Asriel was fully relaxed.

Asriel popped his lips off of Oliver's meat, leaving it throbbing and gleaming drool. Oliver shuddered into Asriel's rear and nosed firmly into his taint.

"I understand you've made yourself quite at home under my tail," sneered Asriel, bucking his rear back to emphasize the point. Oliver grunted. His rudder swished giddily. "But now is not the time for such frivolities - I have needs your tongue cannot satiate!"

The otter exhaled sharply as Asriel pulled his rear away. He made the lame effort to hold Asriel near with paws on the goat's hips, but the prince defied and escaped his grasp. Asriel straddled Oliver's belly and jerked his drool-smeared cock firmly and slowly until a grateful moan passed the otter's lips. "Yes, you enjoy my touch very much, do you not?" Asriel cooed.

"I do, yes, very much," Oliver repeated.

Facing away from Oliver, Asriel indulged himself in a warm smile. It would not do to be seen this way, so he forced it away with his usual sneer. He suddenly turned around and braced his sticky paws on Oliver's chest, at the same moment wriggling his rear against the otter's penis.

"At first, I couldn't imagine you wanting to be screwed," Oliver mused, gripping his shaft right before Asriel reached down to try to do the same. He held it steady as the goat guided himself against it.

"Really," Asriel said dryly. When Oliver's tip kissed up to his pucker, both shaft and hole dripping saliva, the goat blushed.

It was hard to see a blush on anything so fluffy, but Oliver spotted it. He grinned toothily and laughed. "Yeah, but now? Now I can picture you moaning with a cock up your butt."

Asriel snorted indignantly and bucked down against Oliver, penetrating himself with a couple of inches. He did his best to keep his features straight. In spite of a sudden moan, Oliver teased, "And your poker face sucks!"

"Shut up!" Asriel grunted, promptly shoving his ass down. He fully impaled himself and in the process gasped and arched his spine. What relaxation there had been was replaced by a very taut body. "Mouthy surface dweller, shut your hole," he hissed, dredging up only slightly more composure than his outburst.

The damage was done. Asriel was lessened in Oliver's eyes, but only in an endearing way. The otter briskly stroked up through Asriel's fur, defying the grain. He clutched the goat's toned chest and tweaked his perked nipples with his thumbs. "Could you shut it for me? You did a pretty good job when you sat on my face."

"I--, ugh!" the prince pouted. He began a brisk ride, bouncing prettily on Oliver's cock in spite of the bitchiness pervading his mood. His swollen cock bounced in time, wagging up and down with the smooth moves of his body. Softly he panted, the noise kept reserved. "I'll not put my rear on your insolent face again," Asriel puffed, "unless I wish it to be cleaned of your mess."

"Kinky," Oliver smiled. "You're a real freak, Asriel." Asriel pretended not to hear.

Oliver braced his feet on the ground, tilted his hips a bit. Asriel puffed through his nostrils and dug his fingers into the otter's fluffy chest fur. "Mmh, that angle," the prince grunted. "That is certainly more pleasurable."

"Mmhmm," Oliver cooed. All of a sudden, he grinned and pulled Asriel down by his long, floppy ears. The goat shrieked girlishly and clenched around Oliver, moving with the otter's pull to resist the pain.

Only when he was nose to nose with Oliver did Asriel snap, "That is very! Painful!! Stop!"

"But you make such cute noises!" gushed Oliver a moment before crushing his lips against the goat's. Asriel's black eyes popped open wide. Oliver thrust his tongue into the goat's maw and Asriel gamely suckled it, also nipping it. This caused Oliver to moan; Asriel moaned back. Doubling over top of Oliver gave the prince much less room to work with but the otter started to meet him halfway, bucking up as Asriel bucked down. The former's hips smashed into the latter's rear every time, and the muffled swat of furry bodies colliding traveled little and vanished into the still air.

Asriel panted into Oliver's mouth. The fine young men shared breath this way, panting and gulping for the same air and rendering themselves dreamily lightheaded in the process. Oliver reached up and rubbed underneath the goat's ears, where the fur was like silk and the warmth great. Asriel stared into Oliver's eyes, his gaze fond in spite of his blackened sclera.

Still Asriel rode upon Oliver, his fine behind bouncing at the end of a serpentine swish of his entire body. Oliver's strokes were much less graceful, being little more than a hurried buck up into the beautiful prince, but the technique was no less effective.

"Uhn, gawd," Oliver bleated into Asriel's suckling maw. His words were made clumsy and mush-mouthed. "Close now."

The kiss tapered away. Drool clung to their lips and snouts, remnants of their amorous gayness. Asriel puffed with little of his trademark condescension, "As am I. It's wonderful."

Asriel nudged away from Oliver. The otter stroked up under his ears, briefly held his stylish horns, then his paws fall away to claw at the smooth floor. The goat put on a rare, loving smile; it was the product of pleasure, nothing more, or so Asriel would have insisted if pressed on the matter. He kissed Oliver's lips and took over the bounces again. Oliver was content to lie still and be enjoyed.

Closing his eyes and crooning in bliss, Oliver alternately clawed the floor and stroked his own breast, leaving crazy ruts in his furs. "Almost there, you big, gay goat."

"I am not a goat," Asriel puffed, utterly indignant again.

Oliver parted his lips. The first syllable of the inevitable question barely passed his lips when Asriel thrust two digits deep inside of the otter's maw. Oliver's knee-jerk reaction was to cough and sputter; but Asriel had not pushed them deep enough to gag him. Instead he depressed the otter's tongue and smeared a residual soaking of pre across the surface. "Your questions are not welcome - not when I, Prince Asriel Dreemurr, am this close to climax," he scoffed.

The otter rolled his eyes but went with the flow. Asriel was so dreamily tight, his attitude so cute, that the otter did not mind giving up the argument. He held Asriel's wrist, suckled his fingers, and moaned around them. In turn, Asriel pumped his maw and massaged his tongue. Oliver was surprised to find how sensitive he was to fingers in his mouth.

For all the pleasure Oliver had been given, it was a wonder that Asriel beat him to orgasm. And the goat maintained so much of his snide composure that until the otter felt the first rope across his belly, he didn't even know it was happening. Come the third strand of cum, however, Asriel shuddered; with the fourth, he moaned. His rectal muscles spasmed and clenched around Oliver's shaft. He dug his fingers into the otter's mouth then pulled them back and hunkered down over the surface dweller, flushed and panting.

"That's cute," Oliver said, grinning hugely. "You're such a buttbitch that you came hands-free, it's adorable."

"Silence!" Asriel impotently hissed.

Oliver loved to tease, but what he wanted even more in that moment was to get his own rocks off. He promptly hugged Asriel close and hurled the goat aside, throwing himself along. The prince gasped and clutched at Oliver's body, his black eyes wide, snout stuck in an insulted expression.

Never did Oliver's penis left the goat. He was so close that he could feel the tightness in his loins. He forced a kiss on Asriel and started to buck, ramming it into the handsome prince with every ounce of strength he had in his swimmer's body.

Asriel whimpered into Oliver's kiss. In his afterglow, he found himself to be Oliver's fuckthing. He wrapped his arms and legs around the otter but did not actively hinder his bucking; for in that moment, he wanted Oliver to orgasm as badly as the otter craved it himself.

It did not take long before Oliver's bucks became stunted and difficult. Deep, lustful noises shook out of him. His rudder lashed. Within a few moments, he came, depositing his sordid mess into the delectable goat. Both he and Asriel moaned in satisfaction.

Coming as a surprise to Oliver was Asriel's newfound lax attitude. He did not demand that the otter dismount, nor was he at all condescending. He fondly pecked and kissed Oliver a time longer, then asked with a warm smile, "Will you be leaving for the surface?"

"I--, I think so. After a little while, anyway."

"I see," Asriel replied, masking his disappointment. He looked down the hall one way and then the other, little more than idle glances. The ruins were still. "You may return at any time, you know. To the Underground."

Oliver smiled faintly. "To you."

"Yes." Asriel kissed his lips. "To me."

Afterglow waned. Asriel and Oliver stood, but still the goat was gentle, more softly spoken. He reinstated his own clothing in a peculiar flourish of fire magic. The robes he had burned off did not un-burn themselves, remaining as ash, but the new clothing was identical to what he had worn.

"What about my clothing?" Oliver asked, smiling ruefully.

Asriel covered his mouth to chuckle. "You look better without them." He pressed up against Oliver again. Though taller than the otter, he seemed somehow vulnerable and small as he hugged the surface dweller and bumped noses with him. "There is a sweet little home up this way. I believe I mentioned it. Feel free to take some clothing from there - the woman who lived there would have insisted a naked traveler take anything they need."

Slowly, sadly, Asriel decoupled from Oliver. He turned away and started to walk.

"Asriel?"

Frozen in place, Asriel did not turn. "What it is, Oliver?"

"I'll come back. I promise."

Asriel smiled, resuming his walk. "I should hope so, Oliver."