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One day, he received a gift from one of his loyal minions. It was a painting of himself, painted by a human artist. The picture was stunning, capturing every detail of Asgore’s imposing figure. He gazed at it for hours, imagining what it would be like to have the human in front of him, painted on his flesh.
Asgore called for Papyrus, one of his most trusted advisors. “Papyrus,” he said, “I need you to find me a human.”
“But why?” asked Papyrus, confused.
“I want her as my subject, to do with as I please,” Asgore replied, his voice thick with desire.
Papyrus nodded and set off on his mission. He soon found a woman, wandering alone in the human world. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Papyrus approached her, introducing himself as a friend of Asgore’s. “He wants you,” he said, “to be his subject.”
The girl was hesitant at first but soon found herself unable to resist the allure of being ruled by such a powerful king. She agreed to come with Papyrus and soon found herself in the underground world, standing before Asgore’s throne.
Asgore gazed at her with lustful eyes. “You are beautiful,” he said, “but you will be more beautiful still once I have marked you as mine.” He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her towards him, kissing her fiercely.
The human girl moaned in pleasure, her body arching against his. Asgore could feel himself growing harder with each passing second. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, laying her down on the soft sheets.
He undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing his muscular chest. “Look at me,” he growled, “and know that you are mine now.”
The human girl gazed up at him, her eyes full of desire. Asgore climbed on top of her, pressing his body against hers. He entered her hard and fast, pounding into her until they both cried out in pleasure.
Asgore looked down at the human, who was now his subject. She was gasping for breath, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. “You are mine,” he said, “and you will always be.”
And so Asgore and the human girl lived happily ever after, their love for each other growing stronger with each passing day. Asgore ruled his kingdom with an iron fist, but also with a gentle touch, showering his subject with gifts and affection. And whenever he looked at the painting of himself that hung on the wall of his bedroom, he knew that he had found true happiness.