Find your tribe in a Sea of Creativity
Shamecorner Reblogs - Blog Posts
First time posting a writing...
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Content: Semi-unwilling pred, multiple prey, size difference (prey are like palm sized), safe vore, soft vore, very willing prey
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All Michael wants is to get out of here. Distract his mind from the hurricane that's having it's way in his head. The dread, the fear, the anxiety that eats away at his skin.
Maybe that's why he decided to go tramping aimlessly into the woods. No one around to hate him. No one around to fear the judgement of. He knows he'll be fine. To get back, all he has to do is follow the quiet until it breaks away into the noise of the city. But that's for later. Much later. These woods are better than trying to ignore the smell of people everywhere, of his friends, of his family. Just grass and leaves as far as the eye can see. The lingering scents of animals, leaving their marks in the underbrush. And… something… sweet? The air tastes almost like fruit, yet he sees none around. If there was an orchard nearby, he'd know, right? There'd be a massive farmer's market in town or something.
Michael stops and looks up. There's a trail of small winking lights floating among the branches. They almost remind him of fireflies. The presence of those same bugs might be why he didn't register these at first. He reaches up and pokes one. It sparkles, bursting into motes of light that slowly dissolve into the air.
Curious, he follows the lights. Up ahead he can hear sparking pops, rushing water, and soft hisses of indistinct noise. The fruit-like smell grows stronger. The air feels thicker, thrumming with some substance he can't identify. He decides to think of it like a confusing alien humidity. As he pushes himself through a wall of bushes, he blinks at the sight in front of him.
It's… a party? Seemingly random objects crowd the place (giant mushrooms, sure, but why is there a brand-new sofa here?) and even more of those lights illuminate the area. It's like a star-filled sky, flooded with sparkling lights that are replaced as quickly as they wink out. Blurs of color and light move around the area. A buzz of movement fills his ears– like insect wings, like a whistling breeze, like rustling leaves. At first he wonders where the people are. Only once he focuses on the blurs do they start looking like definite forms to him. Small people, decked with– no, embedded with crystals.
The pit in his stomach grows deeper at the realization. Then it itches at his insides, insisting he stop ignoring it. He wanted to get away from people. Yet here he is, ending up in a throng of them. Maybe that's on him. Being stupid and following what was probably magical lanterns for fairies or something.
He backs up, trying to retreat to the other side of the bushes. The fragile branches snap around his arms.
"Hey!" Someone shouts, and he hopes that it's not directed at him. Then that someone flies into his vision, promptly dashing that hope. "You busy?"
"What?" Michael asks.
"I said, are you busy?" The fairy repeats, hovering in front of his face.
"I, uh. No. Why do you ask?"
"Great!" The fairy claps their hands together, beaming. "We need some variety over here. Make some requests, get crazy! Wishes, if you insist on it. We've got mana to burn."
"I'm…" He glances past them, into the thick of the gathering. Some faces have turned towards him. If he's leaving, it's not going to be unnoticed. Or unjudged.
"Sorry, I don't know what this is about. I don't want to intrude on your, uh, party?"
The fairy gives him an odd look. "It's a casting festival. We've been running out of ideas and we still have mox-ridden to take care of. So come on! Get in here, sit down."
That clears up next to nothing, but Michael nods like he understands. What he expected was a demand for why he's there, or maybe a yell for him to leave. Not… this.
"Um, okay." He never was good at speaking. He's not sure if this will be any different. Michael clumsily extricates himself from the bush, bringing plenty of leaves with him.
"Go, go!" A new voice shouts. He can feel the press of attention on him, of much smaller eyes following his comparatively giant self. The idea of standing feels nauseating. At least that confusingly pristine couch will come into use. He sits.
Michael picks a leaf out of his air.
"Allow me." Yet another stranger comes near him, waving their good arm. The other is stiff, composed entirely of gem. Or encrusted with it? He's not sure. Before Michael can figure that out, all the broken twigs and leaves in his hair transform into butterflies, fluttering away.
"Ah." He states. There's movement behind him, and the pressure of being watched is now crushing. God. These people are, what, palm-sized? Smaller? He doesn't know. Because he's not focusing on that. Definitely. Most certainly not. But there's a bunch behind his head on the back of the couch now aren't they. Why are they there. He's boring he's not interesting.
Something hisses, and he decides to ignore the basket of rubber snakes someone just manifested.
"You don't talk much, do you?" The first stranger says. Michael isn't sure when they followed him, or if they were there all along. He just sort of shakes his head, feeling too sick to speak.
"Hey, wait." The crystal-ridden fairy gestures out their good arm, holding a hand out. "Hold up your hand."
Confused and too afraid to say no, he does so. They press their hand against his finger, thoughtful.
"Oh, this is perfect. You drain magic!"
"Uh. I– sorry. I don't, I don't think I can make it stop. Is that… is that gonna be a problem?" He asks despite knowing the answer is yes.
"Not at all!" The fairy laughs at him, and there's tittering behind his head. The fear of why they're laughing drowns out the actual words.
"I've got an excellent idea. You're a vampire, aren't you?"
"You can tell that fast?" He asks.
"Not many things can be mana sinks and alive beings." The fairy pauses. "Technically alive."
Before he can ask what being a vampire has to do with anything, another voice pipes up.
"Eat us!"
Alarmed, Michael spins around to stare at the miniature crowd behind him. "Huh??"
There's a chorus of agreement, of laughter, and beaming smiles. He starts to wonder if his hunger is making him delusional.
"Look!" The same voice cries, now identified as belonging to glowing blue fairy. "This is a golden opportunity. We need to burn mana, you need to absorb energy. It's an easy solution!"
"But why– why eating? Isn't that dangerous for you?"
"Psht," A green fairy scoffs, "We could get out even if wanted to stop us."
"Are… are you sure? If you get out with magic, and I'm… taking it…?"
"Just one of us has way more mana than you could ever take at once. And guess what! You take it best through eating, which is why that's the only way it'll actually make a difference." At this point he isn't sure who's speaking. They're all strangers to him, overwhelming and bright. The constant switching is making his head spin.
"Look," A brash voice says, "We’re basically doing you a favor.”
Something pokes his belly, and Michael reflectively swats at the offending person. They easily flit backwards out of reach, giggling at him.
“I’m–”
“Come on!”
“I…” Michael glances away, frighteningly aware of the gathering crowd around him. He clutches his shirt, pressing his fist into his middle. A rumble teases him in return. They'll be fine. They'll be fine? And he. He doesn't think he can get out of this situation anyway. He'd been desperate to avoid his friends and their insisting, but this is astronomically worse. The anxiety and the hunger alike dig at his insides. "Okay."
There's a pregnant pause.
"Open up, then!" Someone shouts. Admonished, Michael opens his mouth, displaying his fangs and empty throat. All of a sudden there's a taste on his tongue. A slight weight presses against it, and wings tickle against the roof of his mouth. He flinches, snapping his jaws shut and reflexively swallowing to rid himself of the feeling. Something wriggles down his throat in surprise.
He looks down at his stomach in a panic.
“Shit! Shit, I'm sorry, you– I didn’t mean to throw you down so fast–”
“Forget that! It’s my turn!” Another fairy presses tiny hands against his lips.
“Uh–?” The moment his mouth opens, they push inside, kicking their legs against his teeth to propel themselves down his throat. In that moment, he’s grateful he no longer has a gag reflex. He swallows, and their lemony taste slips past his tongue along with them. Michael doesn't know if he should be glad for or dreadful of the rapid pace.
His stomach seems to have no opinion one way or the other, merely growling at the prospect of being fed. There's a tittering of excitement around him.
Another approaches, face eager. He hesitates, but opens up his mouth for them. God, another. How many will there be? He hasn't bothered to count the amount around him, but he hopes it's not all of them. The way his gut gurgles implies disagreement.
Someone touches his middle again, and he gently waves them away. He can't speak, not with the current fairy deciding to take their time searching his mouth. His tongue twitches, and it's with great chagrin he realizes he's drooling. They taste like sugar. Artificial fruit. They push forward, and Michael takes that as a sign to swallow. He can feel the warmth of energy slip past his throat, moving deeper inside him. It collects in his stomach. He doesn't dare look down at it.
Even as that someone tries to touch him again.
"What are you doing?" He snaps, unable to help it.
"I want to see if I can feel anyone from out here," They say, perturbed.
"Well– just don't. If you want to touch anything, do it from inside." Even as he says them, Michael regrets the words.
"You hear that? You're next!"
"That's not what I–" He stammers, trying to correct the assumption, but they're already staring up at him with such big, desperate eyes. The noise dies in his throat. How is he supposed to deal with a look like that? Michael sighs and opens his mouth. The fairy, eager as the rest, dives in. It's some small relief that he can't choke. He swallows, pressing fingers against his lips. The taste of their skin lingers, crystalline and sweet. The movement of their small body disappears inside him.
That's what he wants to think, anyway. In reality, he can feel squirming inside his gut. Small pressures that he can feel for moments, only for his stomach to disguise the sensation with a deep growl. Hunger still itches at him. The edge has been weaned off, dulled. But he doesn't feel full. Doesn't feel satiated. As much as he hates to admit it, this crowd might be right. They're kind of doing him a favor. Instead of going home and starving, hoping he won't do anything…
With an uncertain sort of confidence, he holds his tongue out. Michael doesn't even see this one, only knows they're in his mouth. He draws his mouth closed, and– oh, no, okay, a second has decided to clamber in. Michael hums in protest. With his tongue he presses one against the inside of his cheek, swallowing one at a time. There's a little bit of a rhythm now.
The way they slide down his throat. His stomach squirms, and he grimaces. The sensation is foreign, and he can't tell if the movement makes him feel sick or thrilled. That's a pretty consistent doubt, though. Not knowing if he's happy or disgusted by the situation at hand.
"Me next! Me next!"
"One second…" he pauses, taking a deep breath. How many has he eaten? He hasn't been counting, but it feels like far too many. Not enough. He wonders whether he'll be able to fit all of the fairies that flutter around his head. They stare expectantly at him, hover above his shoulders, lower in front of his stomach. Is it sticking against his shirt now? Now that he looks at it, he can see it glowing with a handful of different colors. They flicker and move through his skin.
"Right."
Michael's stomach growls again. At the end of this, he's going to be stuffed…
Boss's Orders (male fart/burp fetish story/fanfic)
hii everyone this is my first public fetish story I'm posting. this character (Cyrus) is not an OC he is from the P0ke/m0n series (I do NOT need this showing up in main tags/general searches haha). please enjoy this story of a repressed and uptight man losing all control of his ability to hold in his gas
Cyrus had no particular fondness for coffee; in fact, he found the taste to be quite repulsive, though he’d never let it show. It was something he drank to function, purely to fuel the machine that was his often-ailing body. As such, it was always supposed to be black coffee. He wasn’t the type of man to do things for “fun” or “enjoyment,” which were vague and sentimental concepts he simply did not have time to deal with. He didn’t need sugar, milk, or creamer; he drank his coffee as it came.
…That, and he happened to be absurdly lactose intolerant. It frustrated him immensely; yet another way in which he was painfully human and so far from the perfect ideal he sought. He usually didn’t have much trouble avoiding dairy, though a familiar and unwelcome bubbling in his stomach made him feel as though he hadn’t been diligent enough.
He shifted uncomfortably in his office chair at Team Galactic HQ. His stomach was softly gurgling, making him thankful he was so particular about his office’s isolation from the rest of the building.
Fuck. That moronic grunt I allowed to fetch me coffee must have made some executive decision to add creamer, he thought to himself, scowling as his discomfort grew.
Why would someone do that? Why were people so stupid and presumptuous?
Cyrus sighed and rested his head in his hands, his frustration quickly interrupted by a surging cramp in his abdomen. At first, he tried to ignore it, keeping his hands and mind busy by focusing on writing his next speech. He wasn’t a child; he could keep his bodily functions at bay without issue. Another sharp cramp rung through his lower body and he found one of his hands tentatively massaging his aching stomach, finding it far more bloated than usual.
He angrily stood up and locked his office door, his stomach audibly complaining about the sudden movement. The last thing people needed to hear was him in such a vulnerable state. It was unbecoming of him.
He tried to resume his task but quickly found himself wrapping both arms around his stomach, head on his desk. “Mmnh….” Although the cool surface felt nice on his sweaty face, he let out a soft groan of pain as his insides worked themselves into knots. Righting his posture and forcing himself upright, he tried to set his sights on typing the concluding thoughts of his speech, still able to hear his gurgling stomach over the sounds of the keypresses.
A sudden cramp came that was too intense for him to fight against; though he tried, tensing his muscles so as to not give into his weakness, his body had other plans. Unable to take it any longer, he involuntarily relaxed and let out a forceful, long, wet fart, one that made him sigh in relief.
How shameful.
It was a disgusting feeling, to be so controlled by his body in this way. He attempted to stand up to open a window to rid himself of the foul odor but found another drawn-out fart bubbling out of him, so desperate he couldn’t hold it back as it filled the room with a sulfurous smell.
Whatever. He would simply resume his duties as any responsible adult would. When needed, he would provide himself relief, if that’s what it took to get his work done.
As he got back to typing, he felt a sharp cramp as his stomach lurched. He didn’t need to apply much pressure to let out a deep, ringing burp, one that made his throat hurt a bit from the sheer force of it. Anticipating another, he placed a hand over his mouth as a belch rose up from the depths of his body, muffled by his palm. Sighing, he closed his eyes, feeling shame and humiliation burn through him. “...Absolutely disgusting,” he quietly commented to nobody in particular.
The smells his body was producing at this point were foul. Entirely unable to restrain his gut from tightening and clenching, a soft, bubbly fart practically leaked out of him, filling his pants with an eggy stench. Perhaps even more mortifying than the gas itself was the sheer amount of relief it was bringing Cyrus to release it; on most occasions, he used every once of his willpower to hold back any eructations or flatulence indefinitely. To be so utterly at the mercy of his body made him feel powerless and weak, but releasing the painful pressure building up inside him was bordering on euphoric.
Taking a momentary break from typing to lean to one side, he let out a bassy fart with a finish just slightly too wet to make him feel comfortable. Another cramp hit him and forced a huge airy fart out of his hole; he let out a contented sigh of relief when it finally finished.
Every part of this disgusted him, especially the warm, damp feeling that was starting to fill the back of his briefs from the moisture of his farts. He was worried he’d need a change of underwear before the day came to a close. Hell, he might from the smell alone. But goddamnit, he’d vowed to complete his tasks at any cost. Nothing so trivial as an upset stomach would interrupt his duties.
As he set himself back to work on writing his speech, his face was burning hot from embarrassment, even though he was alone. Cyrus had always been particularly shy about his bodily functions, especially those deemed more…impolite in nature. What, was he really so weak as to lose control over his bowels, like he was a child? Regardless, even when he tried to hold back his gas, he soon found it erupting out of him, hot searing farts hissing out of him for upwards of ten seconds at a time, rendering the office air nearly unbreathable.
He pressed a fist to his mouth to stifle another loud belch, before furrowing his brow in frustration. A quick assessment of his midsection revealed him to be no less bloated than before, perhaps even moreso despite the massive amount of gas he’d managed to expel. I despise this. This is no way for a leader to conduct himself, he thought as he tentatively unbuttoned his pants and unbuckled his belt, allowing his swollen gut some relief. As revolting as this was, it’d also be best if it was over as fast as possible, and perhaps that required some encouragement on Cyrus’s behalf.
Trying to apply firm pressure to his tender abdomen, he took his fingertips and began massaging his stomach. Forcing his gas in certainly wasn’t working, so maybe forcing it out would have more productive results. With one hand, he gripped the edge of his desk, as he pushed out a massive, roaring fart, so long that it left him out of breath. “Arceus almighty…” He mused to himself as his stomach churned. Every time his hand connected with his midsection, another bubble of gas would force its way out of him.
This strategy seemed to be decent for making progress, though Cyrus’s gut seemed to be capable of producing nearly endless air. After another flurry of smaller farts, he let out a large one that, to his displeasure, felt decidedly wet.
“...Fuck,” he said, getting to his feet and attempting to make his way to his private bathroom. With every step, he let out another rancid, swampy fart, interrupted periodically by deep burps. When he finally got to the bathroom, he felt like he was being stabbed in the abdomen; surely whatever demonic force would emerge from the depths of his bowels would not leave his pants intact, and he was so close to the toilet, but…
Cyrus was unable to restrain the disgustingly wet, sloppy fart that tore through his bowels, his mouth opening a bit in shock at how truly vile it was. It sounded and smelled like he was actively soiling himself. When he managed to shove down his pants and seat himself on the toilet, finally releasing the storm brewing in his intestines, he rested his head in his hands. This was going to be a long day.
Bellies noises being audibly noticed without a mic pressed up ?
I should get my shit together and provide more that :) More and more people are becoming interested in it.
WARNING! this comic is kinda unreadable because of all of the censors i had to put - be ready to not understand much ^^ (u can get the full uncensored version on my kofi :)
comic 32 : home
lol i'm sorry for the censors, i was laughing out loud placing them this looks ridiculous (but my tumblr spy has been hovering above my blog religiously, so i don't want to risk anything)
BUT! but but but !!!! the uncensored version is available for you to purchase on my kofi!!!!!!!!
and with that we are done with these two, thank you so much for following along!
i had a blast creating this, i hope you liked my vision of a soft domestic feedism, spiced up with prey/pred, latex and pumpkin outfits . this accidently became a 190 something page comic, and not to toot my own horn but i am very proud of what i pulled of!
i am closing this small chapter of heavyheavycream. farewell to thses two, i will miss them dearly 💖
do not worry, more stories will be following soon (and maybe one with a fat viking saphic female dom medeival comic, who knows 👀)
but first, a well deserved break
cheers!
Disabled trans woman needs help affording wheelchair
Remaking my donation post as the information is outdated.
I need help affording an electric wheelchair, as I am unable to leave the house and walk for long without one. I've been trapped in the house for months, only leaving for absolute essentials and doctor's appointments. I'm currently halfway towards affording the model I've selected. Absolutely anything helps. Thank you very much if you're able to help.
[PAYPAL]
[KO-FI]
💫 Puppy Princess 💫
Let’s not pretend doms don’t need after care too.
Ask them if they are satisfied, whether they came or not. Do they want to cum?
If they need anything to drink.
Perhaps they might be cramping from putting a lot of effort.
Tell them they did well and which parts you enjoyed the most.
Compliment them for their work.
Cuddle up to them.
Offer help for the clean up afterwards.
Order food together.
Sex can be something casual, but might be intense too. Either physical or mentally. Take care of each other and regularly communicate with each other. No question should be taboo. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
⚠️fart, gassy⚠️
But this is an illustration about the sound of hunger .
I need to make a fat man dinner and have him sit on my face while he eats it. Listening to him talk about how good it is and how I don't deserve a single bite, I want my empty stomach rumbling to be inaudible because of his huge gurgles. Need need need him to clench his fat cheeks against my face, rolling his hips and getting comfortable like I'm nothing but a chair. "If you're hungry how bout you eat this?" He'd rip a big meaty fart that smells like a putrid mix of all the dishes I made for him. "Mm yeah, I bet you like that, it's 0 calories~" if I refused to open my mouth he'd reach a hand back and squeeze my cheeks until my jaw fell slack, then he'd position his crack right against my lips so every single one of his farts would slip down my throat, that gas would just ripple between his huge long crack until it popped out as a nasty loud bubbly burst...
i love nerds.
the way they speak so passionately about topics that interest them. their hands flying around in the air as they explain with such intent and love. when they all get shy and flustered, face flushed pink after given a complements.
the way their glasses get all foggy and their eyes go so hazy after making out. how breathy and whiny they become after just a few kisses. heart practically beating out of their chest at the sight of you in their lap, kissing down their neck.
the way their hands grasp onto any part of you as you start to pull away. staring into their eyes, fingers running through their hair while they plead and beg for something more. anything more than just the sweet kisses your leaving on their face.
it's so adorable. i love nerds.
Have I rb'd this before? Ehh ask me anyway!
Revamped Fart Q&A
(noticed that one gassy q&a going around a lot so I thought people might appreciate some different questions!)
On a scale of 1 to 10 — 1 being rarely ever able to fart, 10 being incredibly gassy at all hours of the day — how gassy are you on average?
What triggers your farts? (foods, drinks, certain situations, etc.)
Do you push out your farts when you feel one coming, or let them come out on their own?
Do you ever get morning gas? How do you deal with it?
What aspect of farts do you enjoy the most? (sound, smell, sensation, "gross" factor, etc.)
How do you react to seeing/hearing people farting irl/in a non sexual scenario? Can you act natural and laugh it off?
Which would you prefer: farting on someone's lap, or having your lap farted on?
How do you feel about smell? Do you have a preferred type of stench?
Do you feel comfortable farting in front of others?
Have you ever accidentally farted when you didn't mean to?
Do you purposely eat trigger foods in order to make yourself gassy?
What do you do when you need to fart in public? Hold it in or let it out?
What do you think about the smell of your own farts? What do they smell like?
How do you feel about fart humour in media?
Do you like face farts? Would you ever do it if you had the chance?
Describe your favourite type of fart.
Thoughts on trapped gas/bloating?
Which would you prefer: massaging someone's gassy belly, or having your gassy belly massaged?
When did you know you had this kink? What triggered it?
Clothed or naked?
Embarrassed or shameless?
Silent or loud?
Does anyone know you have this kink? Would you ever tell anyone?
Valentine's Day commission for anon
i love being a whore and also incredibly autistic last night my partner said it wanted to leave me set up in a fucking machine while it took notes and put them into spreadsheets and my vision went white it turned me on so much
Gentle experimentation… taking care of my test subject… making sure their restraints aren’t too tight… giving them something to relax them if they’re nervous… making sure they don’t feel too scared, letting them know that they’re completely safe and that I won’t hurt them at all. Just staring nice and slow… testing their reactions to various stimuli, examining their entire body… giving them a kiss on the forehead after every test. Praising them for being such a good test subject for me and telling them how cute they look. Taking notes on their behavior and reading it out loud to them if they get curious… making sure they stay hydrated and drink water so they don’t start feeling bad in any way. After we’re all done with a day of testing massaging their body where the restraints were and helping them get washed off in a nice warm bath… then letting them sleep in bed with me before we continue tomorrow 🖤
Just couldn't hold it in any longer 🫧 urrp
Olivia was sat in the pool, surrounded by her friends and acquaintances from uni in the late hours of her 21st birthday party. It'd been an incredible night so far; people were drinking, dancing, the food was amazing, and Olivia was enjoying herself in more ways than one. She wasn't exactly sitting in the pool itself, more like straddling another person in the pool. The other girl would feed Olivia and then kiss her after every bite.
"Open wide Livie." Bea, Olivia's girlfriend, popped a strawberry into Olivia's mouth before biting the other half so their lips could meet.
Olivia felt amazing in the moment. This would be a birthday she'd remember forever.
bBBbblLlllL
The two girls froze mid-makeout. The worst part was the Bea's hand had slid down to Olivia's ass right at that moment, so she felt every air bubble that had escaped Liv's rear end. Olivia felt her face grow hot. She was mentally preparing an plausible lie that would explain why she didnt just fart on her girlfriend, but Bea's giggling was the first to break the silence.
"Damn Livie, I didnt know you were so comfortable with me." Bea continued to laugh as she tucked a wet strand of curly hard behind Olivia's ear. Olivia's face twisted into an expression that could only be described as a bashful cringe before covering her face with her hands and burying herself into her girlfriend's chest, causing Bea to go from giggling to full on laughter.
Olivia insisted they get out of the pool, and Bea agreed after a few more minutes of teasing.
"This way it'll be harder to tell if you fa-" Olivia punched Bea in the arm.
They joined their group of friends next to the music and spent the better part of the hour dancing and playing drinking games. It was getting close to midnight, which was when they were planning to bring out the cake. This was when everyone was going to sing happy birthday and Olivia would be the center of attention. She'd been excited for it since the day she planned it six months ago. She loved the spotlight, it's why she planned these big elaborate birthday parties! But right now, something was terribly wrong, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole.
Olivia had hoped that that embarrassing moment in the pool would be the worst of it. She had to admit that she was a little nervous about the party, and she'd been stress eating for the past few days. She'd eat until she finally realized that her stomach was stuffed to the brim, then she'd regret everything later on when she had to squeeze a fat load into the toilet. Today had been the worst of it; she'd practically cleaned out the fridge, and would've eaten the catering too if her friends hadn't stopped her. But they'd been so busy with everything that she when she realized she hadnt gone yet the party had already started. No big deal though right? She lived here, she knew where the bathroom was. But every attempt to relieve herself had been halted. The line had been too long on the first floor, and several people had been sick in the second floor bathroom. Olivia figured that she could hold it, but that had been 4 hours ago. Her stomach feel like a painful boulder she had to carry around. It's why she'd led Bea to the pool in the first place, the water felt soothing to her tummy, she just didn't realize how much.
Now something had been breached. She tried to act normal, but her stomach felt like a war zone. The weight of so many helpings of meat and cheese and any snack she had been able to find was now punching and kicking at her insides. She felt pregnant and ready to pop, but there was no where to give birth to this thing unless she did it in a bush. And she would NOT be humiliated at her own birthday party!
Olivia was starting to feel sick, enough so that she feared her friends would notice. So she went back to her original plan of simply trying to soothe her tummy. Once the party was over and everyone was gone, she could beeline right for the nearest bathroom or sink or bucket and let loose. She just had to wait a couple more hours.
She told everyone that she was gonna go chill in the hot tub for a bit, emphasizing how she wanted to enjoy some alone time before her big moment. She was glad no one pushed to go with her and made her way over.
The hot tub was completely vacant. This was post covid, no one wanted to share a pool of hot bubbling water in close proximity to a bunch of strangers. Olivia eased herself in and immediately felt her stomach settle. She let out a long sigh and allowed herself to openly rub her aching stomach. She didnt realized how bloated she was until she felt the taut bulge protruding out her midsection. It was clear this load was gonna be big, but for now it would have to wait until later.
BBbBOorrbbLll
Olivia sat stiff as she watched and extra set of bubbles rise to the surface. For a moment her face went red, but then she remembered that she was alone. Everyone was far enough away that even if the music wasnt on no one would really notice what she was doing unless they looked closely at her. She relaxed again, sinking further under the water, and relaxed her body enough to let out another fart, this one deeper and more intense than the last. Her eyelids lowered, a relieved expression forming on her face. She felt her stomach gurgle with satisfaction as more gas bubbles burst from her swimsuit. She felt herself give a little push to ease more of it out, feeling more relieved than she had all night.
BRBBLRRT
Olivia gasp as if she'd been drowning and now was desperate for air. Something hard and wide was pressing out of her and against the back of her swimsuit, and it was eager to fully emerge. Olivia tried not to panic, but internally she wanted to scream and cry. This could not be happening, and she hated how badly her body needed it too. Her body wanted so badly to push keep pushing, tried to convince her to let it come out. But she reminded herself that she was in a HOT TUB! She was at her birthday party and she was not about to shit anywhere but on a toilet!
She fought back and started to suck it back in, her asshole gaping around the protrusion sticking out of it. She strained as hard as she could without alerting anyone, draping her arms over the side like she was relaxing when really she was gripping the edge of the tub for support. It hurt to try and pull the turd back in, but she bore down hard. But there was no room in her stomach for it, her body showed her how fruitless her effort was.
As soon as she stopped straining, the log took the chance to slide out. Not a little, not halfway, but fully and completely into her swimsuit. It happened so quickly, but she felt every bulge it made as it happening, feeling it curl up against her butt. She let out an involuntary groan when it fully came out, small bubbles rising up from her bottom when a muffled fart was pushed out against the huge load. The bulge in her swimsuit was so wide, even in the rippling water she could see it poking out between her legs. She felt grateful it was all solid, but it didnt change the fact that she had still shit herself. She could feel a sob rising up from her throat, but she barely had time for a single tear when a friend appeared by her side. She nearly jumped out of her skin and just barely avoided squishy the poopy bulge in her butt in the process.
"Oh sorry Liv! Wasnt trying to scare you. But it's almost time for cake! Come on, we gotta sing happy birthday to the birthday girl." They playfully pinched her cheek before walking off, thankfully unaware of Olivia's predicament.
Now she was panicking. She had to do something, there was now way she was going to stand in front of everyone with a bathing suit full of shit. But she couldnt go up there naked! And the worst part about the whole thing was that she still needed to go. The log sitting in her bikini bottom was the first of many, she could feel her stomach churning with another big poop. Possibly some less solid ones too.
As if to pour salt on the wound, Olivia felt her bladder let go. If the pool wasnt already hot, she would feel a warmth spreading around her waist. The only reason she knew she was peeing was because the momentary increase of warmth on her thighs paired with the feeling of emptying her bladder. She sat there in the water for a moment, frozen like a peeing deer with poop in its pants. She didnt have much time, so she did the only thing she could think of at that moment and reached down to open her bottoms. Apparently her mess wasnt as solid as she'd originally thought, and she had to wiggle her hips to get her poop to budge. She hopped out as it rose to water level and quickly wiped herself with a towel before rushing off towards the waiting crowd.
Olivia was greeted by cheers and birthday wishes as she approached, and she tried to ignore the cramping pressure in her bottom as she smiled and thanked everyone. She stood before the crowd of her girlfriend, best friends and peers as they begun to sing.
"Happy Birthday to you~"
Olivia could barely hear any of them over a different sort of chorus going on in her stomach. She tried not to grit her teeth as her insides turned to knots.
"Happy Birthday to you~"
Olivia was glad she was face towards the crowd and that their singing was loud, because she suddenly felt a fart slip out and leave something wet and muddy in her bottoms. It started and wouldnt stop no matter how much she clenched, and she tried not shake as gas rippled out of her.
"Happy Birthday dear Olivia!~"
She had to hold it! She had to! But she could feel her bottom loosening up.
"Happy Birthday to-!"
BLOOOP BLLORRTTTCH
The sound of mud and muck filling her bottoms cut through the song. A tidal wave of chunky liquid poop exploded out of her ass at it's weakest moment.
BBLLRRTCHBBLLRTT
There was so much poop, she felt it burst out and spill onto the ground, even running up her back. Her body was so overcome with the desperate need to unload that for an unfortunate moment she forgot she wasnt on a toilet. She could feel something more solid coming from her stomach and so, in front of everyone, she began to push.
"UHH UUUGGHHHNN!"
She grunted like a cave man and wrapped her arms around her stomach as large soft logs of waste began to squeeze out of her like toothpaste. It oozed out and landed with a solid wet thud onto the ground.
The crowd watched on, some stunned, some horrified, some disgusted and gagging. But one thing they all had in common was that they'd remember this forever. Especially Olivia.
@0-my-secret-blog-0 I LOVE YOU DEAR FELLOW FREAKY CITIZEN
Tumblr I need your help!
im looking for this scat fic story about a girl who has a pool party for her birthday and shits in her pants and in the pool due to stress eating and being constipated
The main character was Sabrina?? Sofia? Samantha????
I don't remember who it was by but please help me find it tumblr I'm horny 🙏🫠
Edit: ik everyone prolly knows this but there was a poll that came before it to choose between that and two other story prompts that might be around idk if that helps
What are usually the foods that you find most difficult to digest.
And what is the smell they give to your farts?. In my experience, without a doubt, meat and dairy products make my intestines very restless.
Well I’m lactose intolerant so any dairy creates a lot of gas and liquifies my guts. It literally comes out with so much pressure that I’ve been able to blast a stream of diarrhea 9ft (after chugging 4 gainer shakes made with 2L full fat cream). The farts are wet, rumbling and can never be trusted.
Spicy food goes right through me. I try to avoid it because it burns my hole raw and considering how often I shit now with my stuffings I don’t want to deal with a sore puffy hole aching as I pump out that much shit multiple times a day. I don’t really fart but my gut gurgles like crazy.
Any type of meat in excess constipates me. Those rotten fermented farts smell horrible and are so heavy
The second worst after dairy is fried food or anything greasy or oily. It’s so hard to tell if I need to fart or shit until it’s too late. Those farts are sloppy, leave my hole sticky. Plus the grease lives up my bowels and it’s almost impossible to clench tight enough to prevent some sludge from oozing out. The farts sputter and rumble. They feel so good coming out but omg I’ve ruined so many panties with oil -laden shit.
To have an overpacked cauldron of a belly that is completely controlled by your feeder.
Master hasn’t allowed for an emptying In 3 days but has still fed his prized hog to the brim. Rancid constipated farts are a small relief when your bowels are stretched to the max to compensate. He uses your cunt, needing to push a bit harder than usual to get in, feeling how everything clogging your pipes has piled into and swollen your rectum.
He finishes inside you and then goes to get your next meal. He proceeds to stuff you with a mountain of food until you can no longer breath.
He presses your fat bloated gut and you groan in discomfort, your hole inadvertently puckering.
“No, no,” he says. “No shitting yet. Just gas.”
“But if I try to fart again, it’ll be impossible to hold the rest in. “
“That’s your fault for being such a greedy piggy. Your stomach is this way because of YOUR gluttony. And You have another day to go piggy.”
The next day comes and your guts are done processing the food. Your feeder instructs you that it’s emptying day. He instructs you to take a stance on all fours , and goes to feel how hard and bloated your abdomen is.
“Ah, looks like you’ve done a great job of getting filled and having your bowels stretched to capacity,” he says grabbing a box and what looks like tin foil. He puts on a rubber glove.
“Alright you know the drill. Face down and spread em,” he instructs. You follow his instructions and place your head on the floor, ass still up and use both hands behind you to spread your deep cheeks. You sigh , knowing that finally you’ll get some relief from the unbearably fullness in your guts.
Suddenly, you feel a cold glycerine suppository press against your hole. It’s forced in along with the finger behind it. He retracts his finger to have it covered In your chocolate. He repeats this with three more slippery inserts.
“Now you have to hold it until the glycerine melts. I’m doing you a favour so your hole doesn’t rip this time. Let me know when you’re busting to empty and I’ll bring the bucket”
Last time the constipated plug of shit practically tore your ass in two while being birthed.
You hold it, clenching against everything In your body telling you to push. You’re still on your hands and knees half an hour later as you feel the pressure behind your hole is mountain and you feel the weight of days worth of sweet creamy shit pressing against your hole. Despite your best efforts, a fart sputters out along with a bit of shit and melted glycerine.
“I’m ready to empty,” you groan loudly in defeat. Your feeder walks in on a pathetic scene. Fat pig on their hands and knees, swollen gut gurgling and hanging on the floor, drenched in sweat, hole quivering with the anticipation of finally getting some reprieve. He lays an industrial bucket behind your cellulite-ridden ass.
“All right pig, let’s see the aftermath of that gluttony,” the words are barely out his mouth before the gates part and shit starts pummelling onto the bottom of the bucket. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, as log after log of constipated shit leaves its incubator. Rumbling farts and stomach gurgles are all that can be heard as the shit gets sloppier and bursts out of your poor tender hole. You moan half in pain half in pleasure.
Your feeder smirks, knowing you’ll be laying cable trying to empty all that waste for at least the next couple of hours.
#constipated #slob
i’d love to hear more about you having to rush to the bathroom in public after taking those laxatives. you’re so hot
I had to sit down cuz my stomach was aching so bad. I had tried to fart out some pressure but the two previous farts had been so wet that I already knew my panties would have brown wet spots. After that last fart, I knew it was game over. Everything was pooling down and swelling against my asshole. I was clenching so hard that I was dripping sweat down my back. Thankfully I was sitting down and so there was a bench blocking anything solid from coming out, but I could also tell it wasn’t going to be solid…
I couldn’t move for fear of having an accident. I cupped my lower belly and tried to suck my hole in as much as I could, trying to get all that filth to go back up just enough to have some leeway to rush to the bathroom. The urge to go was so intense but it subsided just long enough for me to compose myself enough to seek out the bathroom. Fortunately I was in the mall cafeteria so it was fairly close.
Cheeks squeezed tight I got up, still holding my stomach and made my way over, not caring if everyone knew that I was going to wreck a toilet. I had to practically shuffle over, and in the middle of my walk there, an intense gurgle was felt as everything within me dropped back down to my exit. I can’t even begin to describe how close I was to giving up at this point. Even clenching as tight as I could, I could feel some liquid trickle out.
The minute I entered the bathroom, I rushed into a stall, ripped down my pants and soiled underwear and, before my ass could hit the seat, the liquid that had been pooling in my rectum shot out. I heard from behind me as the pressurized blast hit the wall and began dripping off of the toilet tank, but god I didn’t care. All I could think of was how desperately I needed to relieve my bowels. The liquid shit began spraying out of my ass. I couldn’t help but to scrunchie my sweaty brow and groan and wave after wave of cramps pushed out more sludge.
It took a while to finally be sure I was done but finally after almost half a roll of toilet paper I was done and that was only cleaning my crack and cheeks…i left without cleaning the mess. I felt so bad but I felt so sick that I left without cleaning the huge spray of diarrhea on the wall and seat. I just needed to get home and soothe my stomach.
So yeah after taking a triple dose of laxatives I should have stayed home
Tummy kink ask game, for you or OC's (finally got around to making one) 🌸
Hunger💕
🌷 hungriest you've ever felt?
🍰 longest you've ever gone without eating?
🕯Do you prefer being hungry, or seeing someone else hungry?
🍒 whats a food you fantasize of when you're hungry?
⭐️ whats your biggest fantasy when it comes to hunger?
🌌 whats your favorite part about being hungry? (If you enjoy it)
🧨 do you get easily irritated when hungry?
☂️ what do you do to pass the time when fasting?
💬 has your stomach ever growled in public?
Eating (or soft stuffing) 💕
🍉 whats your favorite food to eat a lot of?
☀️ whats your biggest fantasy when it comes to stuffing?
❤️ whats your comfort food?
❄️ favorite thing to eat when its cold?
🔥 favorite thing to eat when its hot?
General questions 💕
🎵 whats your favorite type of growl?
💌 when did you become aware of your kink?
🗯 when is your tummy most vocal?
🕰 how often do you indulge in your kink?
🔮 do you prefer being hungry or full?
🌸 blog recommendations?
🌺 fanfic recommendations?
🪐 random question!
Pro tip: if you rail your puppyboy from behind and put a hand on his lower stomach, you'll hear the most desperate pathetic noises you've ever heard (bonus points if you tease them about how you're going to fill their little tummy with puppies)
ok hear me out but have u ever thought of torture w it? Like ofc consensual but like chaining someone up and continuously ripping mad ass in their lap ((they can't get away))
or someone doing THAT to YOU🧁🌺🎀
My boyfriend sent me this fucking amazing scenario and it's all I've been able to think about
So I've written this piece for it
Enjoy, I know I fucking did ^-^
CONTENT WARNINGS: Gas (of course), restraints, dubious consent/mild torture (with the gas), mild knifeplay, read at your own risk fellas ~~~
You’d known this would happen, really. When he’d taken you out to eat — to that lovely pasta place you two loved to visit — he’d ordered way more than you knew he could handle. All that free bread, too. You’d watched him. It didn’t take long for his stomach to start its familiar protest, gurgling and grumbling under his shirt while he drove. Each time it did, he’d wince, and pull a pained little face. You could tell he was trying to ignore it, to keep it out of the conversation, but you just couldn’t let that happen.
You were poking fun. Literally, and figuratively. Teasing, taunting, reaching out to prod at his gut. He couldn’t exactly push you away — you were in the passenger seat, right next to him — and with every jab, you could feel how full he was. Poor guy. He grit his teeth, and tried to endure it. “I’m fine.” He’d insisted. “Just… lay off it, ok?” Like hell you’d listen to that. More teasing, poking, bratty little retorts. Almost like you were having a conversation with his bubbling belly.
You could tell it pissed him off. He furrowed his dark brows, cheeks burning and shoulders hunched. He kept hissing little demands, pleading, asking you to stop. Softly at first, but more forcefully, the more you teased and sassed. You ignored him, like a brat. By the time you’d gotten home, he practically slammed the door of the car shut, storming inside stiffly. Fuming.
You followed close behind. “What’s the matter??” You giggled, hovering over his shoulder. “Too embarrassed to admit you have gas??”
You saw his jaw clenched the second you uttered those words. His sharp eyes darting, staring daggers at you. You’d never seen him look so stern. It sent a chill down your spine, and you faltered a little. Clearly not enough to deter him, though. He shot an arm out, grabbing at your wrist with surprising strength. His grip was so tight it hurt. You couldn’t have pulled away even if you wanted to — much to his amusement — and with a firm yank, he pulled you closer to him, lowering his mouth to your ear. His voice was husky.
“I warned you to watch your fucking mouth.” He seethed. Oh dear god…
He practically pulled you off your feet, dragging you halfway across the house, towards your shared bedroom. He was rough, and the corners of his lips twitched up into a sadistic-looking grin. His stomach continued to growl, softly, under his hand.
Grrrmmm…
He winced. If he was in pain, it didn’t last long, though, when he threw you carelessly onto the bedspread. His usual tenderness had all but entirely seeped from him, replaced with frustration and… well, a killer stomachache, you supposed. You barely had time to retain your composure before he grabbed you again. Your eyes went wide.
In your daze, he’d gone digging through the drawers by the bed. In his hands, he held a thick length of chain. By this point, his smirk had spread into a full grin, and he regarded you with wide, dark eyes. “Teach you a fuckin’ lesson, huh?” He muttered, almost to himself, as he yanked your arms up. You yelped — which he paid no attention to — and felt the cold restraint rubbing against your wrists.
Good lord. He was tying you to the bedframe.
“What the fuck-?” You managed to stammer, before a low growl cut you off. You couldn’t tell whether it came from his throat of his belly. He ignored your confusion. The restraint was tight, and held your poor arms up high, behind your head. No matter how hard you squirmed, the damn thing wouldn’t budge. Shit. You instantly regretted letting him practice so much on you.
He sat before you on the bed, taking a second to admire you. He chuckled deeply to himself, his voice rumbling in his chest. That laugh. It frightened you. “Not so cocky now, huh??” It was his turn to tease. His tone caused your cheeks to burn, and you lowered your eyes, squirming. Trying to tug on the chains. No luck.
He shuffled closer, putting a firm hand on your knee. He was warm. There was no way he was gonna… not now, right?? All because you teased him a little?? … He shuffled a little, from his place in front of you, sitting himself back down. Right in your lap. His weight pressed against your thighs, and the gesture took you by surprise, your eyes going wide.
His poor, overstuffed belly gave a low gurgle. It was a more desperate sound, and he huffed, placing his other hand on his side. Giving it a quick rub. “I can’t say you were wrong, though.” He chuckled. “I’ve been, ahem… holding back. For your sake.”
What the fuck was that supposed to mean??You cocked your head, shooting him a confused look. All he did was laugh. And give a soft grunt. The unmistakable sound echoed through the room, and you felt it ripple against your lap, heating the area where he sat. You went stiff. No way he just…
But then the smell hit. God, it was awful. Fucking putrid, really, a disgusting concoction of whatever bullshit he’d eaten throughout the day. He sighed, in relief no doubt, while you thrashed about, turning your head, trying pathetically to escape the damn stench. Your arms were bound. Your couldn’t plug your nose, no matter how bad you tried. It burned.
His sadistic grin never once left his face, eyes scouring your writhing form. He was clearly amused. You could tell by the smug lilt in his voice. “I saved that just for you.” He seethed, grinding himself further against your leg. “Smells lovely, hmm?” You practically gagged. He clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, tsk, so unappreciative. Such a brat.”
You felt ashamed to be blushing at his words.
“God, that’s foul…” You managed to mutter. He scoffed, narrowing his eyes. That look, the one that made your blood run cold, returned to his face.
… He leaned over your pitiful form, reaching into a drawer behind you. He pulled out something metallic, that glinted under the dim light seeping through the closed blinds. A blade. Why the fuck did he have a knife on hand??
Never-mind that, though, because you had no time to think. Within a few seconds, he’d twirled it in his trained hand, and pressed the cold metal right against your collarbone. Your breath hitched. It was so close. You really had to watch that temper of his. “Watch yourself.” He demanded, shifting around in his seat. Still firmly pressed into your lap.
Grrrgggllmm…
He let out a shaky breath, biting his lip, and forced out another fetid, rippling burst. He strained to push it out, and you were worried he’d let the knife at your throat slip in the struggle. But he held it still.
Jesus Christ, the smell. Somehow worse the second time. You let out a sharp cough, and forced yourself to hold your breath. Blinking back the tears from your watery eyes. He didn’t seem to take too kindly to this, and with his only free hand, reached up towards your face, clamping it over your mouth. You couldn’t breathe.
You had no choice. You could usually hold it for a while, but god, it had taken you by surprise. Air was running thin, and it wasn’t long before you were forced to inhale sharply, through your nose.
Goddamn repulsive. He seemed overjoyed by your whines.
“You love it.” He hissed, pressing the cold metal further against your nape. One wrong move, and it’d slice straight from shoulder to jaw. “Go on, tell me. You love it.” You had no choice but to comply.
“I-… I love it.” Your words were muffled into his hands. His grin twitched cruelly.
“It smells good, huh??” “It… fuck-… it smells so good…”
So fucking degrading. You could tell it excited him. His rhythmic grinding against your thigh told you more than enough.
“You want more. Go on. Beg for me.” … You considered resisting, but a flick of his wrist reminded you who was in charge. You let out a strangled whimper. “I said beg.”
“Shit-… Please. Please, I want more.”
He tittered in mock disgust. “You’re fucking filthy.”
But he did as you’d asked. He lowered the hand clasping at your face, and pressed the heel of his palm into his stomach, causing it to growl and churn. He was coaxing more out, you could hear it. You have a last-ditch effort to tug at your wrists, trying one last time to free yourself. Hah. No luck.
The next one sounded awful. Loud, long, and almost sickly, damn near surprising him as well. It was a miracle that he could handle his own damn brand. Was this the kind of shit he was holding daily?? It almost made you regret picking on him so frequently.
“Go on.” He urged you. You were too light-headed to protest. You just hoped to god he’d spare you soon.
“It smells lovely-…” You stammered, swallowing back a gag as you spoke. “Th-… Thank you.”
“Good.”
For your good behaviour, he loosened the grip on his knife, giving you a little more room to breathe. Not that it’d help. Every single sniffle was tainted. And there you were, drinking it in, begging like some sort of animal. If he’d wanted to teach you a lesson, he’d made his point clear as fucking day.
But he wasn’t done with you yet. There was plenty more where that came from, you could tell. Might as well make the most of it. You could be there for a while.
Imagine person A cuddling up with person B on the couch after a long, exhausting day of work. The lunch A had isn’t agreeing with them and leads to them passing gas whilst laying on top of person B. Person B doesn’t mind and soothingly rubs A’s back while they let it rip, even shamelessly moving their hand down to A’s bum to feel the bubbly emissions against their palm while they plant soft kisses on A’s cheek.
Smut bonus: Person A is so gassy and achy that they can’t help but moan and whimper into B’s ear after each burst of gas that leaves their bottom with a sprinkle of small burps being let out into B’s ear as well. A’s helpless, gassy state ultimately makes B terribly horny and they can’t help but grind against A’s body, pressing against their stone hard tummy to force out more gas from them until they can’t help but go down on them.