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"eating well" insanely erotic pair of words. what
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Glutted Vampire Lord
Poor Astarion’s been through so much– he deserves to sit back and be spoiled, even if his poor belly can’t handle it… They’ve got a lot of meals to make up for, after all… _when you’re too proud/scared to admit you wanna be stuffed stupid so you ask your TAV to do a force-feeding scene with you…_ Just wanted to play with this belly shape a bit.
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Birthday Parties and Mako Induction
The result of me wanting to draw stuffed Sephiroth and my friends suggesting both cake and Mako overindulgence. So, in my utter lack of self-control, i went, “But why not both?” So, here’s Sephiroth getting bombarded with an unwanted birthday party with his fellow SOLDIERs, followed by an even less wanted Mako induction session. Seph doesn’t strike me as someone who would ever willingly put himself in this vulnerable a position, so i imagine that the cake was the result of peer pressure– read as: Zack not shutting up til Seph tried one of everything, and Genesis not shutting up to intentionally egg on said behavior because he knew Seph would hate it. And, of course, Shinra doesn’t give a fuck if it’s his birthday or how full his tummy already is, so the scheduled experimental Mako induction via ingestion went through the same day. I imagine Angeal would be the one to find him after and take care of him, if only because he’s the most sensible and empathetic. NGL, i actually prefer the very first drawing in this one. There’s something about the realistic little bloated belly and the look i managed on his face that… yeah. Why can’t i just be a sexy anime villain man with an achy, bloated belly…?
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Your FC feels their stomach gurgle, and they push their ass against their chair as hard as they can, working to hold everything in
Their SO denied them a chance to shit this morning, telling them they weren’t allowed to release their load until they got home from work. It’s a game they’ve never played before, and this morning FC was excited about it. Now they’re regretting that promise as they release a series of uncontrollably bubbly farts, further staining their already soiled underwear (they hadn’t made it two hours before sharting the first time, and by now there’s a not insubstantial bit of mess squishing between their cheeks as they squirm urgently)
They’re lucky they have an office to themself, but of course they’ll have to walk past dozens of coworkers in an hour when they finally get off and they’re fairly certain the only reason they haven’t had a full fledged accident is that they’re sitting down. They’re pretty desperate to pee at this point as well, but relieving that need would require standing and walking past coworkers as well, and if they lift their ass off the chair they’re going to poop
Not that they aren’t pooping anyway: they let out another toot and feel a large log start to press out of their hole before they clench with everything they have and suck it back in. They’ve given up any semblance of trying to get work done and are just sitting holding their stomach with their pants unbuttoned, desperately fighting their guts
The log pushes out further on the next cramp, and clenching hard only manages to break the tip off, adding to the mess in their pants. 45 minutes and they’re already losing it: they’ve got only a minute or two between cramps now, and each one is more forceful than the last
The log pushes out again, this time getting far enough to mush against the chair before they stop it. At this point there’s really no arguing that they haven’t pooped their pants, but they have to do what they can to minimize the severity. There’s probably not much of a bulge yet; maybe if they hurry past their coworkers no one will notice. It’s close enough to five that they can probably get away with leaving, right?
It’s not even 4:30. They can hang on for a few more minutes, right? To distract themself, they pull out their phone and text their SO: “I’m already making a mess of my pants, I have to go so bad. Can I come home early?”
The reply is immediate: “Stay until 5:05”
They’re never going to last that long. Just the thought of it has their stomach cramping again, and a large amount of mess squishes out of them with a squelch. They clench as hard as they can and decide on damage control over pleasing their SO; it’s not like SO will know when they left their desk, and they’d much rather have the rest of this accident in their car.
Standing up is a bad choice: even though they instantly cross their legs and clench as hard as they can, they feel more mess pushing out, accompanied by some more bubbling farts, and their bladder starts to give out as well: a hot spurt of pee soaks their underwear. They fight it as hard as they can, finally getting enough control to unclench their legs and step towards the door. Even though it’s not a large office, by the time they’re at the door they have to cross their legs again desperately as more waste urges out
They stand there with their hand in the knob, poop slowly sliding into their pants, one hand pressed tightly to their now-damp crotch, for probably thirty seconds before they have enough control to straighten up and walk down the hall to the elevator
They make it only a few steps before they lose control again, but they can’t stop, power walking as quickly as they can even though pee is spurting out with every step and a log of poop is sliding further and further out of them. They have to wait for the elevator, and they clench their legs together as tightly as possible. It feels like there are a thousand eyes on them: there’s pee running down the inside of their legs and there has to be a bulge in their pants by now.
To their horror, another loud shart explodes out of them as soon as they step forwyard to get on the elevator. Thankfully no one is inside.
Once the doors shut behind them, their hands are in their crotch again, desperately trying not to make a puddle in the elevator. The stink of their mess is almost unbearable, especially as they keep letting out bubbly farts
They leave a trail of brown-tinged pee as they all but run through the lobby of the building to get out to the parking garage where their car is. Once they’re outside they stop fighting their pee, leaning against a pillar as they soak their pants, uncaring of the large puddle left at their feet.
They stay there for a few minutes as their stomach cramps again, pushing out another large explosion of mess. They’re tempted to just stay there and finish their accident, but the rest of the office will be coming out soon and they can’t be seen like this
They hurry to their car, farting with every step. Sitting in this mess sounds so repulsive that they hesitate on arrival to the car, not even trying to fight the next log of shit that pushes against their hole, even pushing a little to urge it along. There’s a loud crackling sound as they absolutely fill their pants. Some of it starts to slide down the back of their legs as it overwhelms their underwear
They finally get enough of a break to get in the car, and their mess seems to squish everywhere as they sit down. They close the door and roll down the windows to vent the smell before pushing again. The mess squishes up the back of their shirt as the ride out the next wave.
After that they still need to go, but a lot less urgently; they know their SO will be pleased if they aren’t totally empty when they get home, and it’s not so bad they can’t drive now. Plus it’s finally almost five: if they say traffic was good their SO will never know they left early
The need climbs as they drive home, to the point where they nearly pull over to finish up. But they power through it, and half an hour later they’re still successfully turtleheading the next log when they make it into their driveway.
Their SO is waiting by the door, and looks terribly pleased when FC has to cross their legs desperately to keep control as they get out of the car.
“God,” FC says. “I’m about to shit my pants.”
SO’s smile grows, and they come down to inspect FC’s current state. “Looks like you have already shit your pants to me,” they say. “Can’t possibly still need a bathroom after this.” They lay one hand on the bulge in the back of FC’s pants, and one on their stomach, pressing gently.
The log pushes out of FC, followed by a very very wet fart. FC clenches desperately against the last of the mess. “Please,” they say, “I have to go so badly, I’m not going to make it.”
“Come sit with me on the porch swing,” SO says, pressing more firmly against FC’s stomach. “It’s such a lovely evening.”
“Ung,” FC says, releasing what feels like the last of their mess loudly into their pants.
SO grins, and draws FC with them up onto the porch, pressing them to sit. There’s an audible squishing sound as their mess mushes underneath them, and their pants are cold and wet, but if their SO wants them to stay outside, outside they’ll stay.
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Viktor getting fat and developing the habit of absent-mindedly playing with his belly every time he’s deep in thought is such a great concept.
And Viktor is quite the thinker, so you just know it would happen a lot.
Jayce sadly gets no work done when this happens, because suddenly his attention is pulled to Viktor softly kneading his own fat.
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A misc sub 30 minute doodle of V-ktor. He’s waiting for Jayc- to come adjust his brace before he can get on with his day.
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half-asleep rn but all I can think about are the words “you ate so much” being said in a warm, concerned murmur while a gentle hand reaches out to rub reassuring circles over an achingly overfull stomach
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describe the perfect belly ache for a chubby puppy bf.. and spare no details 💜🐶
Mmmm well 😉
Considering his taste for all things greasy and packed with dairy, a belly ache evening would start with a pizza and their favorite soda…diet Coke maybe? I’d dare them to eat it as fast as they can, timing him from start to finish, putting that belly to the first of many tests. By the end his belly is warmed up, taught and round but not too tight.
Of course, the cheese hits his belly so fast there’s already tummy ache complaints and pained whines seconds, it seems, after his final bite and time are announced. I’m soft on my puppy, especially at first, letting his bloated gut land in my lap to kiss and rub through the beginning dairy cramps.
But this tummy time has a time limit…the goal is make his belly ache, right?
I’d pamper his tummy for no more than 10 minutes, after which the next meal would be coming out of the oven: Deep fried mozzarella sticks, so gooey, dripping with grease, and bowls of sauces lined up for dipping.
I present them to you while you’re still grumbling about your tummy gurgles from the pizza and suddenly your eyes pop and your mouth opens to a deep groan. I’ve stacked a dozen large fried logs in a pyramid, and my baby must eat every last one in under 12 minutes. If he can, at least…
You eat. And eat. And eat. My eyes devour you as you devour the fried cheese, shaking your belly and burping, desperate for the room to pass your test.
The timer ticks and my baby boy sucks down his second course. Despite being still full from the pizza, he manages to pass the second test, but just barely. 11:24. Nearly choked on the last one just to make it.
“My *buraaahhp* tummy *huff huff.* That’s *burp* enough *huff* *burp* *hic* cheese.”
Another 10 minutes is spent adoring that tummy. Complimenting it’s bloated, expanding capabilities. “My puppy has such an impressive appetite.” I’ve left kisses and marks all down your body, and my hand prints might as well be molded into your rolls. You’re pushing your limits for me. I can’t get enough of how desperately full your becoming in my name.
But then the time is up and course three is on it’s way. “No ugh…my belly hurts so bad, you know I’m lactose intolerant, sir.” You look down and blush, whispering in heat and embarrassment. “…and I’m getting so gassy.”
I look you gently in the eye, take your lower belly in my hands and shake your cheese filled guts. You squeak, moan, and let out the gas I knew you’d been holding in, trying not let me know how bad your tummy really hurts. “Bellies get gassy, sweetheart. Don’t worry about that.”
I win, of course, and you allow me to bring you the next plate…or bag. Enough McDonald’s for two, but it’s really just…you.
Two large orders of perfectly cooked fries, two quarter pounders (with cheese, duh) and the finale: two large chocolate milkshakes. If you can eat everything, you get to stop. A fair deal, in my opinion, but your eyes grow wide and you start to plead the plight of your exhausted tummy. “I can’t finish that!”
At that moment a cramp rumbles from your stomach to your lower gut. I watch you curl your knees into your tummy and wrap your arms quickly around your bare belly, which now looks red and bulbous, angry, almost. “Oooooohhhh fuck…god *a gurgle I can hear from across the room sounds and a wet fart slips out* my belly. I’ve eaten way too mu-*buuurrrp*-ch already, how do you expect me to *groans* finish *gulp* that?”
I move towards you and wrap your curled, aching body into my arms, kissing your strained temples and wiping the sweat from your forehead. “I expect you,” I rub a deep, firm circle over your swollen stomach, making your moan “to do as your told.” I reach for the bag, open the first quarter pounder, and begin feeding you slowly. No time limit on your last round (I’m secretly desperate to see you even try to finish. I don’t think you really can, but the challenge was too tempting not to give you). You get the rest of the night to finish stuffing your face.
When you get through the first fries and burger, your tummy is so tight it’s pulsing. With a hand over the very top of your gut, I can feel how much your body is struggling to let every bite into it’s overwhelmed system. Your whole abdomen looks…strained. When we start the second burger, all bites are followed by moans and whispered complaints. “Not another bite *swallow.* I’m gonna burst *swallow.* You’re giving me a tummy ache! *takes an even bigger bite.*” But I know how much you’re burning, how fast your eating so we can move on to the reward portion of the evening.
I know how much my puppy wants a days long upset belly. A tummy ache for the ages.
As you finish both fries and burgers, I have to stop myself from drooling. You’re a vision, burping and moaning and begging me to get the milkshakes from the freezer so we can get it all over with already. You’re really planning on finishing both…I can’t believe it. I’m as consumed by your belly as you are by pleasing me, doing all that I ask.
The milkshakes begin to soften while I hold the cups to your lips. I’ve taken off the caps and gotten your funnel. We both want the milkshakes in your gut. Fast.
I pour and you chug, the milkshakes just frozen enough to be delicious but warm enough to gulp down with little to no struggle
I watch your tummy expand so quickly I’m shocked. If I thought your belly was full before…it’s like the shakes are filling in every last gap you have and pushing everything out. Your back is starting to arch, and I can hear how much your struggling to deal with the pain of your fast growing tummy. When the last of the shakes are down the funnel and dripping from your lips, you’ve got tears pricked in your eyes. I remove the funnel, you’re panting and groaning uncontrollably. Your hands don’t stop roaming your tummy, cluelessly pressing into every tight bubble daring to burst your bubble belly.
An awe-filled “oh my god” escapes as I watch you. I can’t think, can’t move. You actually did it. You finished everything in under 2 hours, most of it spent on round three. I can feel my desire dripping down my thighs, leaving visible wet spots on my shorts. You’re a non-stop luscious view of bloated burps and cramps. I can basically see your belly shake as the food tries to move through you unsuccessfully. It must feel like you swallowed a cheese filled brick, I think. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”
“Full.”
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Brewing Backseat Blowout
[She/Her] //
Unfortunately for Jay, potty training and long car rides don’t mix
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was today years old when I found out that I can animate in procreate
looks hella stiff but hope to improve
Also my mini hiatus is over!! <3
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need to be worshiping someone’s belly while they gorge themselves so i can feel their stomach getting fuller with every kiss i place on their swollen gut
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Would you be ok with sharing some prompts about characters who are tiny, like about the size of a hand? Whether it's about them attempting to eat food that's average for a human but much too big for them or someone giving them the gentlest belly rubs, anything would be fine!
🍎 Your character sneaks into a fridge or cabinet for a snack and gets stuck inside. Nobody is around to hear them, so until someone comes around to help them escape, there's not much to do but eat.
👇 A larger friend is giving your character a tummy rub after a big meal, but their big fingers press just a little too much, possibly making your character burp a lot or upsetting their tummy.
🍓 Your character is determined to finish a piece of food that would be nothing for a normal-sized person but is enormous for them (a single berry, one french fry, a lone noodle, etc). How much can they finish before they have to stop?
🪤 Your character sneaks into a space through a tiny hole or crack to get at the food within, but after eating their fill, they're too bloated to squeeze back out.
🫴 Your character is just the right size for their full, round belly to fit in the palm of a normal-sized person's hand, and after a particularly big meal, their larger friend gently holds their belly by letting them lay over their hand. Of course, when your character falls asleep like that, their friend is trapped.
🧸 With their soft, round tummy, your pocket-sized character makes a perfect stress toy for their larger friend. Their friend has to be careful, though, especially if your character is feeling full, otherwise they'll cause a tummyache.
👕 Your character dresses up in Barbie clothes or similar doll/toy clothes, whether by their own choice or at the urging of a friend, and eats until the velcro pops open.
🍳 A larger friend cooks for your tiny character and makes them some miniature food, but even that is still disproportionately big. Still, they went to all that trouble, and your character intends to finish the meal.
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Really in love with stuffing a character who is NOT used to being full in any capacity
Whether that's because they intentionally refuse to indulge, or they simply haven't ever gotten the chance to.
Now here they are, breathing shallowly so as to not agitate their stomach, looking down at themselves in awe (and maybe a little horror.) They've never felt so... big, for lack of a better term. And yeah, it's not exactly an impressive size difference in the grand scheme of things - but are you seeing this shit!? They had no idea it could stretch that far!!!
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fantasy restaurant mayhem scenarios what ever
Bottomless - Your character orders something listed as "bottomless," expecting to enjoy a few refills. As they eat, though, it becomes apparent that the food really is endless, seemingly regenerating itself so they never manage to make a dent no matter how much they eat.
All You Can Eat - Your character decides to quit while they're ahead, not wanting to feel too stuffed, but when they try to exit the buffet, the door seals up--the sign says "all you can eat," after all; they can't leave until they've really eaten all they can.
Superfood - Your character orders some trendy new treat that's supposed to keep them full longer. They don't have high expectations when they see the tiny serving they get, but the hype suddenly makes sense when the food begins to swell up and multiply inside their stomach.
Appetizer - Your character goes to a restaurant that serves complimentary appetite enhancers, a basket of rolls laced with a spell that amplify hunger once eaten. They don't, however, have any effect on stomach capacity.
Always Room For Dessert - Your character goes to a restaurant which offers a sip of a potion before dessert which loosens up the stomach and increases its capacity. The downside is that it's only temporary, and often wears off before everything is fully digested.
Challenge - Your character orders an enormous meal meant to be a challenge, but there's a catch--not the usual "only pay if you don't finish," but a magical one. The food is enchanted so that once they take the first bite, your character can't stop until it's finished, even as they run out of room.
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