hey!! my nameās lotl, iām in my 20s, and iām into!! weird shit!!! thatās what this blog is for, so please donāt interact if youāre under 18. no indication of age in bio is block on sight.
some Important Facts:
- iām mostly into eructo and full tummies in general
- i have a strong preference for women and co but occasionally men will get me good
- iām not into vore, eprocto, wg, emeto, preg, etc, which really just means i prob wonāt spontaneously post any of it. but you never know
- i draw (if you recognize my style from elsewhere no you donāt <3) and dabble in writing occasionally, which will both be put to use on this secret little backwater sideblog that iāve hidden underneath a mountain of obscure saved urls.
- iām taken and monogamous! please donāt make advances on me lol
Another story from my ao3 because I keep forgetting to bring them over here. Featuring my favorite trope: don't-burp-or-you'll-get-caught.
Burglary 101
Summary: Jaz will be the first to admit she kind of botched this art heist. Now she and her apprentice, Eleanor, are trapped in a shipping container trying not to make a sound. It would be a lot easier if they weren't so hot for each other. And if Jaz wasn't burping every few seconds.
Contains: burping, tight spaces (they're locked in a shipping crate), grinding, making out
Rating: nsfw
"Vault door opening. Welcome, Mr. Robinson ."
Announced a tinny, robotic voice. With a loud click, the heavy, metal door swung inwards.
A silly little sci-fi flourish that utterly belied how easy the lock had been to crack. A Smart Lock remotely hacked by their support team, and a backup masterlock cracked (expertly in her opinion) by Jasmine just now. That was the thing about private art collectors: most of them had just googled "vault door installation" and taken the first quote.
Jaz stood, brushing her suit pants smooth, and re-buttoning her jacket. With Eleanor watching over her shoulder, she made an extra effort to look cool while doing so.
"We're in." She gave her lapels a casual flick for emphasis.
Eleanor rolled her eyes. Her exceptionally pretty eyes. "You don't say. Are you sure?"
"Alright, Ms. Snark," Jaz waved for Eleanor to follow her into the DIY vault. "Don't linger in the hallway just to quip. That's like burglary 101."
Eleanor allowed herself another eye roll, but followed nonetheless. Jaz may have been fond of theatrics, but she was leading this job for a reason. Though Jaz was younger (20s to Eleanor's 30s), she'd been in the business of "re-homing" precious artifacts for years, whereas Eleanor was just a first-timer with an MA in art history and a burning desire to piss off her parents.
She took a quick look around the vault, confirming it matched with the floor plan she'd studied. All seemed in order: suite of two windowless rooms, concrete floors, black reinforced walls, and a forest of shipping boxes and crates
"I know," Eleanor replied somewhat defensively. "This is my first mission, not my first day on earth."
Jaz cringed. "Don't call it a mission, El. You sound like a kid playing spy."
"Don't call me 'El.' And what should I call it?"
"A job. Specifically, your job, whichāby the wayāhow's that coming?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Jaz swore she saw Eleanor blush. It looked nice on her.
"Fine, if you'd stop distracting me."
Jaz bit back a snicker, standing back to watch her partner work. Also, to just watch her partner. Eleanor bending at the hip to root through crates was a real sight. Especially in that silky, black ball gown. Both women were dressed in formal wear tonight (Which had made it a lot harder to make the case to Eleanor that they were not James Bond). Their target, a private art collector with a particular love for unscrupulously sourced Persian silver work, was throwing a black-tie reception at his home tonight. That had been Jaz and Eleanor's cover.
"Oh my god," exclaimed Eleanor, still ass-over-head in a storage container. "This vase must date back to at least 2000 BCE. Moroccan maybe? A result of colonial looting, no doubt. We really shouldā"
"Eleanor. Silver work, remember?"
"But it's a crime for him to have this!"
"All of this is a crime. Let's just focus on the crime we're being paid to commit."
Eleanor pulled herself out of the crate with a very appealing pout. "Fine," she huffed, digging into another container.
As soon as Jaz was sure Eleanor's attention was back on her work, she muffled a burp into her hand. It was far from the first time she'd had to do that today, and it was starting to worry her. Before making their way down to the vault, she and Eleanor had needed to work their way across the senselessly gauche ballroom where the party was being held. Jaz had an absolute moratorium against alcohol on jobs, but in order to blend she had accepted a few confusingly ornate hors d'oeuvres. One or more of which was currently dead set on making her pay for that decision.
Jaz palmed her stomach with a wince. She did her best to stay focused, but she could feel it roiling like she'd swallowed a bag of live snakes. Experimentally, she pushed down on her abdomen. Immediately, Jaz let out a heavy belch which she tried to pass off as a cough.
"What did you say?" asked Eleanor, popping her head out of a straw filled crate, bringing to mind a prairie dog.
"Nothing," Jaz said as authoritatively as she could. She was convincing enough, but she was pretty sure her face was red. She cleared her throat. "Did you, uh, find the jug?"
Eleanor looked at Jaz like this was the single dumbest question ever conceived of. "...You mean the samovar?"
"I have no idea," Jaz chuckled. "That's why we've got you, professor-flatware. I just do the breaking and entering."
"Vault door opening. Welcome, Mr. Robinson."
That was the fun of 12-inch, 1 ton steel doors: pretty difficult to hear when someone is headed your way.
The sound of the locking mechanisms began to whir. They had seconds. Jaz locked eyes with Eleanor. Letting her instincts take over, she grabbed the other woman's arm and dashed for a thin, wooden shipping crate to their right. It hinged open on the thinnest side, and Jaz practically ripped the door off as she shoved Eleanor inside it before sliding in herself. She sealed the crate again with literally no time to spare.
"āWelcome to my dragon's hoard," came a high, thin voice that context would suggest belonged to Mr. Robinson. "This is where I keep all the really good stuff."
Eleanor held her breath.The crate was large enough for both of them, but had them essentially on top of one another. Worse still, Jaz's thigh was slotted right between her own, dragging against her every time the other woman so much as breathed too heavily. God, they were so wedged in Eleanor could feel the heat from Jaz's skin radiating into her core. Had Jaz noticed?
With everything else going on, it seemed doubtful. Dragging her easily distracted lizard brain back to the matter at hand, Eleanor chanced a glance up at the taller woman, trying to gauge her thoughts on their predicament. The slats of the crate provided a fair bit of light, and, by it, Eleanor could see Jaz wore a look of extreme concentration. Her usually annoyingly flippant mentor seemed downright anxious. Her jaw was clenched, brow tightly scrunched. Eleanor felt her shift as she gave a nervous gulp. Fuck. For Jaz to be this unsettled they must be fairly thoroughly screwed.
"This is a nice vault, Leo." A second voice, followed by a probationary knock on one of the heavy walls. "Solid."
"It's sick, right? Vaultpros. Five stars on google."
Eleanor heard footsteps. Maybe 4 people? At least one of whom was venturing far too close to their hiding spot for comfort. Above her, Eleanor felt Jaz tense before swallowing again.
"What's in this big one here?" The footsteps stopped right in front of their crate. Then a hand was tugging on the door. Eleanor felt her heart drop into her stomach...just as the door caught. It had locked. She permitted herself a sigh of relief before she would acknowledge their salvation for the massive problem it was soon to become.
"I dunno," said Robinson sounding disinterested. "Forget about that and come check out these sick silver jugs I got last week. Cost me nearly as much as the vaultā"
His voice got softer as he and his guests ventured into the adjoining room.
"They're goddamn samovars," Eleanor hissed under her breath.
Jaz laughed softly. "Glad your priorities are straight." There was an oddly strained quality to her voice.
"Itās not like we can do much until they leave anyway."
Jaz was pausing between words. "Yeah. Fuck. Guess not." She gulped again.
Eleanor frowned. "Is that a nervous tick or something? You sound like a cartoon character."
But Jaz didn't answer, because if she opened her mouth right now, she was going to burp. Loudly. If her stomach had been bubbly before her mad scramble into the crate, now she felt like someone had fed a bicycle pump directly into her gut and gone to town. She wasn't in pain per se, just so damn bloated. As if in agreement, her stomach gave a loud, creaking groan.
"Excuse you," muttered Eleanor huffily.
Jaz raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Thanks, your majesty. How could I have been so rude?"
Eleanor huffed another breath, and Jaz felt it tickle across the skin of her neck. The crate was so cramped the shorter woman's face was practically buried in her throat. Eleanor's hair smelled like cinnamon, and Jaz caught herself inhaling the scent. She was doing her best not to be a creep, but her heart was pounding in her chest for more reasons than just their near escape. She wondered if Eleanor could hear it.
Jaz' stomach gave another wet burble. Well, Eleanor would definitely be able to hear that. Jaz winced, shifting back and away from her. Or at least tried to. Whatever she'd done wrung a gasp out of Eleanor.
"Shit. Did I hurt you?" Jaz hissed bellow her breath.
Eleanor felt her cheeks go pink as she tried to get herself under control enough to answer without further embarrassing herself. 'Hurt' definitely wasn't the word. Involuntarily, her gaze drifted down to their intertwined legs. Jaz followed her focus, giving a quiet little "oh" when she located the source of the issue.
"Oops." She chuckled awkwardly. "Hold onā"
Jaz attempted to back away, inadvertently dragging her thigh long and slow over Eleanor's clit. Eleanor gasped again, thighs reflexively tensing around Jaz's leg "W-what are you doing?"
"Trying to avoid an HR meeting," Jaz rasped. She tried to move again, more carefully this time. She didn't make it far. "There's something wedged behind me. Can you reach?"
"Not sure. Let me seeā"
Eleanor leaned forward, reaching out her arm. Only, instead of grabbing the tube, her small, outstretched palm pushed into the middle of Jaz's stomach. Eyes going wide, Jaz felt the contents therein give a glorpy shift, releasing a lazy stream of bubbly pressure into her chest. Her hand shot up to her mouth so quickly, she may have slapped Eleanor a little on the way up. Jaz swallowed against the rising gas, but her stomach bypassed her freewill altogether as she burped deep in her own throat.
"mmmrrrhhhrrpp..."
The low, bassy rumble continued on for an embarrassingly long time, air filling Jaz's mouth and puffing out her cheeks as she quietly exhaled into her fist. Finally the stream of gas petered out with a small, sharp "...urp" and Jaz awkwardly lowered her hand.
That was...less than ideal. On the bright side, it could have definitely been louder.
Eleanor spoke first. "You know you hit me, right?"
"Uh, sorry." Not particularly wanting to make eye contact, Jaz kept her face aimed at the top of the crate.
"For the slap or for the burp?"
"I actually kind of blame you for the burp."
Robinson and his cronies chose that moment to return. Jaz was almost grateful. Though admittedly less so when her stupid, aerated gut gave another bubbly glurk. She took a deep, careful breath, effectively smothering the firestorm of gas it sent bubbling to the top of her stomach. Poor Eleanor, still pinned against her, jerked at the sound. Jaz grimaced, barring her arm across her middle and willing it to silence.
"āYou know what. I actually think this big one here is supposed to be going to the warehouse," said Robinson. His voice sounded much too close to their crate."
"So you do know what's in it?"
"Mostly just prints. Some of those Japanese woodblock numbers."
"That's all? In this huge crate?" The owner of the second voice gave an incredulous snort, then smacked the wall of their crate.
The motion jolted the frame, and Jaz bit back a belch. As she worked her throat around it, she felt Eleanor's breath hitch. Her face was still practically buried in Jaz's neck. Jaz tried not to think about that.
"Seems too heavy for a bunch of posters," said a third voice.
They gave the crate a shove, hard enough to tip it slightly before it slammed back down. To Jaz's horror, a massive bubble of air sloshed up from the depths of her stomach. Jaz saw her life flash before her eyes as she violently swallowed against it. It really didn't want to stay put. She palmed her chest, inhaling through her nostrils, feeling as though she couldn't get a full breath in without releasing the belch pressing up her windpipe. That wasn't remotely an option. The quartet of assholes were still dithering around right next to the crate. If she even breathed too loudly, they'd be caught.
Another jolt to the crate. Another jostling of Jaz's bubbly guts. "Huh, yeah. I guess it is a little heavy. Maybe it's just the crate. Ya know, sturdy foreign craftsmanship."
Then, suddenly, the crate was at what must have been a 45 degree angle. El and Jaz tumbled into each other, and Jaz did her best to catch both her partner and the string of burps clogging her own throat. She succeeded on both counts, but they were both still fully subject to the avalanche of poster tubes and canvasses that rained down on them like a priceless snow globe. As they once again slammed back down Eleanor stifled a scream and Jaz stifled the same thing she'd been stifling for the last several minutes.
"Whatever. Makes no difference to the forklift," said Robinson, who seemed to have delivered the violent jostling. "Come on. I've got some more of this junk in my studyā"
Finally, finally they left.
As soon as she heard the vault door slam shut behind Robinson and his gang of assholes, Eleanor felt all the tension leave her body. If Jaz and the crate hadn't been supporting her, she might very well have wilted to the ground. As it was, she sunk further into Jaz instead.
"H-hey. El?" Her superior's voice came out low and clipped, like she was straining hard at some task. "You have any space to back up?" There came a low gurgle from Jaz's stomach. "Or t-to the side. Anything really."
Eleanor frowned. "Not really. Maybe I could wiggle over aā" she began to shift her weight.
"No! N-nope," Jaz huffed. "Your arm is digging into myāulpāstomach."
"I know, it's stuck. Can you help? Where are your arms?"
"I don't knowā" Jaz paused, and Eleanor felt her shoulders wiggle. "Ah. Found em. No way I can get them up to you though." To demonstrate, Jaz gave another little wiggle.
The motion pushed her thigh into the apex of Eleanor's legs. A warm wave of pleasure rippled up from the spot and she flushed bright pink. She bit her lip to keep from letting out a sound, before chancing a glance up to see if Jaz had noticed.
Jaz looked downright pained. Her face was screwed up in concentration, her lips tightly pursed. That...couldn't possibly be related could it? Jaz's stomach gave a deep, whining glug. And, pressed against her chest, Eleanor could hear a high pitched moaning noise whizz up her throat.
"Uh...heads up," said Jaz, sounding like something was compressing her windpipe.
"Heads up for what?"
Eleanor never got an answer. Not a verbal one anyway. Instead she got another wet glorp from Jaz's stomach. Then a fizzing stream of air audibly bubbled up her throat, releasing as a hard belch. Jaz ducked her head, trying to press it into her own shoulder. Even so, it was loud.
Loud, thought Eleanor, and absolutely perfect. The kind of burp that sounded like it came from deep inside, and couldnāt wait another second to get out. At the sound, Eleanor had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from rutting against Jaz's thigh or crying out her excitement. Due to an unfortunate quirk of her psychology, this situation had just gone from a nightmare to a wet dream.
For a tense moment both women stood in silence, waiting to see if anyone had heard them. Luckily they seemed to be well and truly alone again. Jaz sagged in relief. Unclear if it was from their narrow escape, or from finally letting out that belch.
"Really?" scolded Eleanor, defaulting to the same method she always used to disguise her true feelings on this particular subject. "Was that absolutely necessary?"
Jaz let out another small burp, once again directing it into her shoulder. "Yes, it absolutely was...But, sorry." She had the decency to sound at least somewhat abashed. "I don't have arms right now, or I would have covered it or something."
Eleanor tried to keep the quiver from her voice. She was certain her face was red. "...Let's just get out of here."
Jaz couldn't agree more. Then she felt another belch try to rip out of her, and she realized she actually could agree more. For the sake of both Eleanor and also her own dignity, she wrestled it down. She took a look around the crate. Her arms were pinned at her sides at an awkward angle, which made any movement difficult. She managed to wiggle her palm up against the door. She gave it a shove, and found that it was, indeed, still locked.
"Great idea," she groused. "Any thoughts on how to accomplish it?"
Eleanor frowned. "No. I'm professor-flatware, remember? I thought you did the breaking and entering."
"This is exiting, actually." Crickets.
"Can we...I don't know, bust down the door?" Eleanor asked.
Jaz huffed a laugh. "Perfect. Let's do the loudest, dumbest thing we can think of. I just almost suffocated on my own belches trying to keep quiet, but by all means, let's kick down the doāOOooOOarrph..."
Jaz very suddenly and very involuntarily burped out loud, the air rushing unimpeded from her mouth and blowing across Eleanor's head. She saw the shorter woman's hair flutter slightly in its wake. Eleanor gave a violent shiver of what Jaz had to assume was disgust.
Jaz immediately felt her face flush with heat. "Iāum...fuck," was all she could manage.
When she finally spoke, Eleanor's voice was tight with forced calm "Are you...okay?"
"Yeah, um...sorry," she said, hating the note of embarrassment she couldn't chase from her voice. "Learn from my mistakes: don't eat on the job."
Eleanor didn't sound convinced. "But you're not sick, right?"
"No, no. I'm just allā" she trailed off, half searching for the right word, and half just not wanting to use it.
"āgassy?" Jaz heard the ghost of a smile tugging at Eleanor's lips.
Jaz let her head fall forward into Eleanor's shoulder with a deep sigh. "For lack of a better word, sure." Another burp glugged up her throat. Jaz rushed to pull her face away, but it rolled up before she could, blowing right into the other woman's ear.
Fuck, that was gross. Jaz was about to apologize, but her train of thought was interrupted by a truly odd noise. This one from Eleanor for a change. The other woman gave a sharp, choked gasp that trailed off into what could really only be properly described as a whimper. The kind of noise Jaz would have loved to hear from her in just about any other context.
"Uh, are you okay?"
"Yes. I just needāhnghāyou to move y-your leg."
"Shit. Right!" Throwing caution at least partially to the wind, Jaz made a more violent push against her surroundings, forcing them to open up for her. There was another mini avalanche, but she managed to pull her leg away from Eleanor, who breathed a sigh of relief. Jaz's relief, however was somewhat shorter lived, as a canvass dislodged from the clutter, wedging itself into her belly in precisely the wrong way. She grunted, swallowing a belch
She cleared the feeling from her throat. "Is that better?"
Yes, and no. Eleanor breathed out a shaky sigh. Jaz's thigh was no longer rubbing against her clit. It was a loss to be sure, but a necessary evil. If Jaz kept burping like that while they were effectively grinding into each other, Eleanor wasn't going to be able to keep up even the thinnest veneer of normalcy. In fact, she figured she'd already failed rather spectacularly at doing so. If Jaz hadn't noticed yet, it was only because she was so flustered...which didn't quell Eleanor's arousal even fucking remotely.
"El?"
Shit, she'd been quiet too long. "U-uh, yes. Better. I feelā"
"āMmbrOOoouUghRrph..."
"āFuck," Eleanor squeaked.
"I think that's my line," grumbled Jaz. She ducked, burping softly into her shoulder only to immediately follow it up with another much longer eruption.
"Fuck..."
"Okay, yeah, this isn't gonnaābwwrpāwork," groaned Jaz. "I gotta move back."
"W-what?"
"I'll try again, but Iā" she stopped to stifle another belch in her throat. "āCan't stay in this position. I've got a canvass pushing into my guāUUuuOo...ngh...guts."
No. No, that definitely wasn't going to work. If Jaz slotted her thigh back between Eleanor's right now she was fairly certain she'd soak through the other woman's dress pants. "Jaz, you'd better not," she said as sternly as she could.
"Sorry, El. IāhrrrpāI have to move. This thing is burping me."
Eleanor let out a pathetic little whine. Only to follow it up with a full on moan as Jaz's leg pressed back into her. Involuntarily, she shifted against it, unable to stop her hips from stuttering weakly into Jaz. At some point, the slit of her dress had fallen to the side, leaving only one pair of suit pants and one sopping pair of panties separating Jaz's thigh from Eleanor's aching pussy.
Jaz felt just fucking awful. Here she was, supposedly tasked with training Eleanor, keeping her safe, and yet all she'd done was lock her in a box and burp on her. Now the poor woman was so miserable she was full on moaning. Though it made her face flush even hotter, Jaz figured she ought to try apologizing for real.
"El, you know I'm...like, sorry right? For, uhāmmmrrpp..." her stomach finished her thought for her.
Eleanor's legs clenched around her thigh, as sheāno doubtātried to put as much distance between Jaz and her pussy as possible. Exactly the opposite of what Jaz and hoped for, but utterly understandable. "Jaz," she huffed in a clipped tone. "You need toāhnghā stop doing that." Was she gagging? That seemed excessive.
Jaz frowned āHow about a little sympathy? this situation isn't exactly ideal for me either.ā
Making use of its expert sense of timing, Jaz's stomach sent another belch rocketing into her throat. She let it noisily detonate in her mouth before huffing the air as far to the side as she could manage.
The last shred of Eleanor's self control threw itself into a wood chipper as she let out the most blatantly needy keening, whimper she'd ever heard tear from her own throat. She shivered violently, twitching with the effort of keeping her hips from grinding into Jaz. Her pussy clenched around nothing as her clit begged for any friction whatsoever. She sagged against the wall of the crate, angling her burning face so she wouldn't have to see Jaz's expression.
If she had, all she would have seen was the reflection of her own desire.
"Iā" Eleanor attempted to speak, still averting her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I never meant toā"
"āEl," Jaz cut her off, leaning in ever so slightly. "Never apologize for making that noise."
Eleanor looked up at her finally, and Jaz noted the pretty flush of her cheeks. The two women stared at each other in silence for a charged moment. Then Eleanor returned the lean. Bingo. Jaz swooped, capturing Eleanor's lips with her own. God, they were soft. And they tasted like fruity lip gloss and mint gum. Eleanor kissed her back immediately, pushing her tongue hungrily past the seam of Jaz's lips like she couldn't wait to taste her. Jaz could understand the feeling. So. Fucking. Sweet. Thought Jaz, as she pushed closer to Eleanor, hiking up her thigh for her to grind into. Fuck, she wished she could bring an arm around to touch her.
Eleanor moaned loudly into Jaz's mouth as she began to rut against her thigh. Jaz hungrily swallowed the sound, pressing even closer, desperate to give Eleanor everything she needed. Ecstatic that she could be the one to provide it.
Then her stomach churned, bringing with it the urge to belch. Currently tongue deep in a kiss, and utterly unwilling to disrupt the beautiful creature chasing her pleasure on her leg, Jaz swallowed it back without another thought. But then Eleanor's hands were on her stomach, running up and down its length, applying gentle pressure. Jaz wanted to caution her against doing so, but that would also require stopping, so it wasn't even really an option. But she was definitely hurrying along what Jaz was now starting to realize was an inevitability. Her chest ached with suppressed pressure. But Eleanor's movements were speeding up, her kiss becoming more sloppy in her desperation for relief. She was close. Jaz was not going to stop. Eleanor gave a deep push into the spot right above Jaz's bellybutton.
Jaz stopped.
Pulling out of the kiss with an urgency usually reserved for life or death situations, Jaz ducked her head into Eleanor's neck and let out an enormous, gurgling belch. She winced as the hot air blew across the delicate skin of Eleanor's pretty throat. Fuck, that was so fucking gross...
"What the fuck, Jaz?" Eleanor panted. She'd stilled against Jaz's leg, but her breathing was still heavy from her aborted pleasure.
"I know," moaned Jaz, face still shamelessly buried in the older woman's neck. "I'm...so so sorry. Really."
Eleanor gave an irritated sigh. "I don't get it. Is this some sort of edging technique?"
Now Jaz was confused. "...What?"
"I was so close. Why didn't you burp in my mouth?"
Jaz had literally never been more caught off guard by a combination of words.
When Jaz didn't say anything, Eleanor began to get anxious. She pulled back slightly, trying to meet the other woman's eyes. "You...knew that's what we were doing, right?"
"I...did not." Jaz's tone was unreadable.
Eleanor felt all the blood drain from her face at the actual, literal nightmare situation playing out right before her eyes. "ShitāIāfuck, I thought you caught me. I thought you knew your burping was turning me on."
"Noooo..."
"WhaāBut how? Why else would I be so turned on? Anyone without a burp kink would be completely miserable in here with you."
Jaz winced. "Ouch. But yeah, I thought it was just my leg pressing into you, making you too horny to care."
"But..." Eleanor was reeling now. At least Jaz didn't seem particularly horrified. "I thought I was so obvious."
Jaz chuckled softly. "Not to judge, beautiful, but I think your kink's a little farther off most people's radar than you might realize."
Now it was Eleanor's turn to collapse against Jaz. She buried her face into the expensive fabric of her dress shirt, probably smearing her makeup all over it. "I...don't suppose you've had a kink awakening in the last 30 seconds?" she tried.
"Uh..."
"Vault door opening. Welcome, Mr. Robinson."
Eleanor found she was actually relieved to hear the tinny announcement this time. This seemed like an ideal time to get shot for attempted robbery.
As they entered, Robinson and his guests were chatting, but they sounded as though they were headed for the other room. Sure enough, their voices soon faded to near silence.
As soon as they did, Jaz blew out an enormous belch that dragged on for an almost absurd amount of time. From the sound of it, she was forcing her body to trade volume for length. When it finally finished she muttered an awkward "Excuse me."
Eleanor froze against her, once again very aware of the thigh wedged against her as all the heat returned to her body immediately. "I didn't realize you knew that phrase."
Even in the dark, Eleanor could see that Jaz was blushing furiously. "Yeah, well, I...don't exactly have the playbook for this situatioā" she cut herself off with another burp she barely managed to keep to a reasonable volume.
At the sound, Eleanor literally could not stop her hips from bucking into Jaz, who let out a low whine of her own this time. "I-I'm sorry," Eleanor whispered. "Iācan you still not move your leg?"
Jaz shook her head, probably afraid to open her mouth. Her chest jumped as she swallowed another burp. Eleanor felt it right in her clit. Fuck. She was practically shaking, struggling to keep her breaths even and quiet. With a creeping horror, she realized she might be too far gone even if she held completely still.
"Iām. Sorry," she gritted out another apology.
"El..." Jaz's voice was low, unintentionally sultry. She sounded concerned. "You alright?"
"I'm...I thinkāIām close..." her face was burning with an even mix of arousal and feverish humiliation.
Jazās eyes went wide at the admission. "FuāUUuuoorphāck..." She dove to smother the unexpectedly loud burp in the crook of Eleanor's neck, barely succeeding. It might have been better if she hadn't, because it had Eleanor's legs death gripping around her thigh as she let out a strangled yelp into Jaz's shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" said one of the people from the other room. Jaz and Eleanor froze in terror. Until:
"Hear what?"
Jaz breathed out the tension "Okay, what are we gonna do here, El?"
Eleanor let out a miserable little whimper. "I don't know. If you can't stop burping, and you can't move your leg, then I'm gonna...burst. "
"Uh, would it help if...ya know," Jaz gave her eyebrows a suggestive wiggle. "I gave you a hand. If you see it comingāpun intendedāmaybe you can keep the volume down."
"I thought you couldn't use your arms," Eleanor hissed.
"El, that was before touching you was on the table. I will find a way. I will find new arms."
Eleanor blinked, almost seeming to consider the offer. Then she shook her head, "No. I need to calm down. Tell me youāre uncomfortable. Tell me Iām being a pervert and you hate this. Maybe thatāll help."
Jaz tried. "Iā¦hate it."
"That wasnāt convincing at all!"
"Iām sorry! I canāt. I hate every part about this except the part where a gorgeous girl is about to rub off on my leg. Even if it is because I canāt stopāurrpāfuck!"
It was true. Jaz really couldn't afford to consider a possible kink awakening or whatever this was right now. But what she did know was that she wanted to make Eleanor fall apart, and she wanted to do it with any and all tools at her disposal.
Later though, when doing so wouldn't get them both arrested or worse.
As relieved as Eleanor was to hear all that, it sure as hell did nothing to slow her race toward the point of no return. But regardless of whether or not Jaz was into it, that didn't change the fact that Eleanor couldn't have an orgasm while actively hiding from their marks.
Jaz let out another much-too-loud burp right into the crook of her throat. Eleanor's eyes nearly rolled back into her head as she felt it rumble against the most sensitive part of her neck. She realized with a curse that she was grinding into Jaz's leg again.
"What the fuck Jaz!" She hissed.
"Sorry! God. I can't stop, El." She sounded absolutely desperate. Fuck, it was too good. Eleanor needed it to stop...She needed more of it.
"Use your own shoulder."
Jaz actually laughed. A shaky, breathless noise. "Would if I could. Itās too loud."
"Swallow. It. For. Fuck's. Sake,ā Eleanor bit out, fighting against her hips as they dragged her clit again and again over Jaz's leg.
A ridiculous suggestion, Jaz would have told her if she could open her mouth at the moment. She had been. This. Whole. Fucking. Time. She'd failed loudly and often, but she was still packed tight with a truly upsetting amount of air that she badly needed to let go. Now that dam was approaching a breaking point. With a bubbly splorching sound, a low burp growled lazily out of Jaz like a harbinger of certain, gaseous doom.
Outside the crate, there was a mechanical whirring followed by the droning of an industrial vehicle reversing.
"Robinson, which crate did you want them to take?"
The forklift. That might be a good thing. If they were moved to another location where Robinson and his cronies weren't expected for a while, Jaz could smash their way out of the crate, and maybe they could still find their way to their extraction team. Explaining the precise nature of how she'd botched the job was going to be a creative writing challenge, but it sure beat getting caught.
"J-jaz..."
"What's up, Elā?" Jaz trailed off, looking down at her partner for the first time in a while. She was a sight, in the best and worst possible ways.The way she was flushed and shaking, Eleanor might have had a fever, but her blown pupils and quick, staccato breaths gave her away.
"I'māI'm gonnaā"
"No! El, not now. Notāulp..." Fuck.
Eleanor was past the point of thinking, mindlessly rubbing herself into Jaz, pressing her ear to her continuously bubbling chest. Jaz's stomach give a hollow, high-pitched whine as a trapped gas bubble blorped up from its depths. The belch started rumbling in Jaz's chest before the poor thing even had a say in the matter. And with all the shaking from Eleanor's movements, it was a lost cause.
Jaz swore weakly. "Fuckāurp..."
That quiet expulsion was the last warning she got before she was completely overtaken by the urgency of the air belching out of her. The sound was deep, and heavy, and LOUD. Panicked, Jaz tried to force her mouth shut, but the sheer amount of gas pouring up her throat wouldn't allow it. And she didn't even want it to. The relief of getting up the air after suppressing it for so long felt sooo fucking good. So Jaz gave up. She relaxed entirely, her ego limply surrendering her throat to her id to use as a glorified wind tunnel.
Eleanor gazed up at Jaz, enraptured by her look of blissful relief as she practically reeled back from the force of the belch pushing out of her. Far past the reaches of good sense, she dug the heels of her palms into Jaz's belly, drawing the already ridiculous eructation out even longer. Making sure Jaz got out every last hiccup without so much as a chance to catch her breath.
The sound suffused every nook and cranny of Eleanor's awareness, leaving no room for thoughts of anything other than Jaz and the utter relief and humiliation that must be warring in her as she continued to lose her valiant struggle against her own body. The movements of Eleanor's hips sped up without her permission, the friction between her legs radiating all through her lower body like a warm glow before tipping over the edge to become the most jaw dropping, eye-rolling orgasm of her life. Her shouts of pleasure joined the sounds of Jaz's relief as they both surrendered to the base demands of their biology.
āāā
Leo Robinson's party was going swimmingly. The whole shebang was really only an excuse to bring some of associates to his house so he could show off his "dragon hoard." They were suitably impressed, obviously.
"This the one?" asked the forklift operator, gesturing to a large, heavy container Robinson was pretty sure contained a bunch of prints or something.
"Yeah, yeah," he waved an impatient hand at the man, eager to return to explaining to Vargas how he'd acquired his vast collection of Chinese pottery, when suddenly he was interrupted by...he wasn't actually sure what he was interrupted by:
At an utter loss for words, Robinson turned to his companions, who looked just as confused.
Green summed it up best: "The fuck is going on in that crate?!"
"...Well, shit." came a muffled voice.
The next thing Robinson knew, whoever was inside pounded on the door once, twice, three times. Boom! It exploded out in a spray of splinters and packing peanuts, and two heavily disheveled looking young women in formal ware came flying out behind it. They hit the ground running.
"Great party!" cried a tall girl in a suit. "Thanks for having us!"
The pretty, slightly dazed looking woman she was pulling behind her threw him a wave. "Sorry about your crate!"
Stunned, Robinson simply stood there blinking after them. Before adding out of some bizarre social impulse: "Uh, yeah. Get home safe, girls!"
I read a lot of the silliest smut I can get my hands on, and one ultra specific trope that comes up a lot is "inanimate object gets turned human and now it's your boyfriend." I've always wanted to see that in eructo kink media. I want to read about someone's lava lamp discovering how good it feels to burp
Your character is about as bloated as they can get. Their belly feels tight as a drum and it's almost impossible to hide, and to top it all off, they're atā¦
šļø ā¦the beach, where any bathing suit will almost certainly show off their belly.
š¢ ā¦work, where they're trying to avoid the nosy eyes of their coworkers.
š ā¦a clothing store, struggling to try things on.
š½ļø ā¦a restaurant, hoping nobody else at the table will notice their lack of appetite.
āļø ā¦a plane, stuck in a cramped space between other people.
šļø ā¦somebody else's house, about to be stuffed even fuller by the other person's family.
šŖ ā¦the mirror, trying to get dressed.
š¢ ā¦an amusement park, wondering if it was a mistake to get on this ride.
šļø ā¦their bed, struggling to find a comfortable position.
š§āš¤āš§ ā¦a date, trying to conceal their bulging tummy from their partner.
š„³ ā¦a party, hoping nobody tries to offer them a snack.
š ā¦the grocery store, unable to shake the feeling that the other shoppers think they're pregnant.
šļø ā¦home, wishing they could enjoy their day off without feeling like a beach ball.
"Excuse me" after a burp becomes the hottest phrase in the English language
I love a full chested āExcuse meā like they canāt believe they just did that. I love a casual ā'scuse meā like they almost didnāt even notice they burped. I love a perfunctory āExcuse meā Like that habit's been trained into them by years of practice. I love a startled āE-excuse me!ā Like they wish they could melt into the floor. I love an emphatic āExcuse me!ā like theyāre actually more proud than sorry. I love an awkward silence before an āā¦Excuse meā like they almost couldnāt even bring themselves to call attention to it. I love a genuine āSorry, excuse meā That feels like itās just for me. I love a panting āguhā¦āscuse meā Like they had to apologize before they even recovered their breath. But nothing beats an āExcuse meāUUuurpp.ā
I found this ancient fanfiction in my Google docs which just āhappensā to have burping in it. I must have been fourteen when I wrote it. Iām not posting it because 1) itās bad and 2) Iād feel weird about posting something written by a minor even if that minor was me, but trust me when I say itās very horny. Guess Iāve always been a freak š
For the last day I wound up doing a direct sequel to yesteray's prompt. I may end up making this a larger thing. We shall see. Thank you to @hic-hic-dreams for this very fun bunch of prompts.
TW: Drug use (mentioned/implied), (loneliness mentioned)
Kinks: Hiccups, Bubbles, Actual Sex (masturbation and humping), Stomach noisesĀ
"Afflicted again I see, Ide?"
The woman I'd taken to calling "Ide" smiled at me as she hiccuped out a bubble or two. "Somehow I cā*heep* can't seem to stoā*HOP* accid---dentally drinking froā*hup* from the wrong paā*hurk* parts of the st---stream, Caelfind. *HNK!*" She sounded so oddly pleased with herself. I stepped back from the doorway and let her in, and she made herself comfortable on my master's old chair. "Oh, I've spoā*hok* spoken to the heā*urk* herbalist. He says thaā*up* that he'd be wiā*hup* willing to pay y---you for poppy teā*heep*āears, aloe leā*heek* leaves, and Ephā*hip*āphedra."
"Ugh. It's gauche for a hag to be paid. I'll give you the plants and he can pay you to deliver them, then you can do whatever you want with the money." Given that she was the one who actually interacted with markets on a regular basis, that seemed more sensible to me. "And tell him he's not getting poppy tears, I don't give those to anyone who would sell them." She nodded and wrote it on her wax tablet, though her nod was interrupted by her hiccups. "Still no takers for the divine mushrooms?"
Ide cringed. "They s---say that a muā*hup*āshroom can't be diā*hic* divine."
"Feh. Priests and their followers." I shook my head. "Alright, let's get your potion ready."
"Wait! *HEEP!*" I turned to look at Ide, who looked a bit surprised at herself. "Um, I...*hnk* Caelfind, I thiā*hink* that you're fa---falling into baā*hup* bad habits." I arched my eyebrows at her. Her face was oddly flushed, and she wouldn't meet my eyes. "W-well, yā*hoop* you told me thaā*uck* that your mastā*herk* said nevā*urk* to make assuā*hmp*ātions about thiā*ic* things, buā*hup* but you've been treā*heek* treating me wiā*cup* without exaā*hmp*āmining me."
I could feel my own disloyal face going red too.Ā After the third time she came here like this, I'd started making the potion as soon as I heard her hiccup (though one time they had ended up being mundane, so that was slightly embarrassing) since giving her an examination was always...something. "You said yourself that it's from the stream. Given how consistent your symptoms are, I wouldn't be surprised if it's the same cluster of spirits you're drinking every time. Or at least from the same colony."
"W-well *hlk* yes," she looked further away, and her hiccups had stopped producing as many bubbles. She was nervous. "But whaā*uck*āat if it's soā*hup*āomething different th---this time? Or iā*ic* if someone eā*hulse* comes in wi---with a simiā*hilk*ālar issue bu---but you onlā*heep* think about m---me?"
Despite the fact that I'd had significantly more patients since meeting Ide, only thinking about her was a dangerously realistic possibility. I swore that I could hear my master shrieking at me from beyond the grave that she was right. And she was right, it was just...
It was just dangerous.
But that didn't mean I didn't have a duty. "Alright. I'll get the ear trumpet."
"Umā*HMP!*" Her louder hiccup stopped me and she exhaled a larger bubble that popped against the rafters with a squeak. "A-actuaā*ulk*ālly, would *hnk-lk!*ānnh..." She played with the upper buttons of her dress, undoing the highest one, then slowly moving lower. "...would yā*hoop* you mind n---not using that? The metā*hlk* is cold, and I *hnk*āmmf...I would b---be comf---fortable wiā*uck* with you liā*hip* listening...by ear? *hnk!*"Ā
The way my heart moved in my chest made me feel like I'd been misusing ephedra myself. "Alright," I said it as though I was hypnotized. This was a terrible idea.
I continued to ruminate on what a terrible idea this was as I moved over to the chair that was starting to become hers in my mind. Ide had unbuttoned enough that she could open her dress to reveal the skin between her breasts, lighter for lack of sunlight on them, but still very brown and pink next to mine. I crouched down, trying to see how I could contort myself to make my head meet her chest as...uncomplicatedly as possible. "I couā*hook* could stand uā*HUP* if that's eā*heek* easier, Caelfiā*hic*āind," Ide said, her voice strangely soft. I couldn't bear to look at her face. "...or you *hnk* c-could," her voice faltered without a hiccup. "...you couā*llk*ācould climb ovā*erk* me ont---to the chaā*hurk*."
"That..." I should have asked her to stand up. "...that should work, I think. Yeah." Instead, I climbed over her, on my hands and knees in the half-reclined seat, carefully avoiding sitting on her lap or pressing my stomach to her jolting, bouncing tummy. I kept my eyes low, then closed them entirely as I lowered my ear to her chest. She felt so warm, and she smelled of soap and floral perfume, though I could still catch a hint of the natural scent I'd experienced before underneath. I heard her heart beating; quick, but strong. I could hear her breath echoing inside of her lungs, and the way that the air caught in her over and over again. When I slipped a bit lower I could hear and feel her diaphragm spasming inside of her. Being at her chest was already dangerous enough. That was jerking noticeably beneath my head. And even with my eyes closed, I could sense the weight of her breasts bouncing on either side of me. Spasm, breath, catch in the throat echoing down. And sometimes the sound of bubbles climbing up and popping out of her mouth. All of it reverberating through her broad chest..."Wellā" My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. "W-well, your heart and your breathing are normal, um...notwithstanding your h-hiccups."
I could feel Ide nod above me between jolts. "Alright, *hnk* that..." her voice was higher pitched than usual, even with it resonating inside of her. "Th-that's good. *hmk-mmp*"
"So I'll...I'll need to go lower."
"Oā*uck*āof course." Her fingers brushed over my hair and along my cheek, and I opened my eyes to see her slowly unbuttoning further down. Her hands were rough and strong, and her nails were dirty. I could see how hard she worked every day. How did she find time for me?
At least two-thirds of the buttons down the front of her dress were undone. Maybe closer to three-quarters. I could see the trail of hair down from her navel that thickened until it neared...places I oughtn't have been thinking about at all. I was neither a husband nor a midwife. "Alright. I'm moving lower now." She hummed softly, and her fingers ghosted past my face again as she lifted a hand. I felt it rest just above me at the top of her chest, and the picture of her with her hand there filled my head to near bursting.
Her belly was so soft and round. Right now it was obviously bloated (for reasons that we both already knew, but here I was doing this inspection anyway), but even when empty it was large enough that she might be mistaken for pregnant. And as she was now...hhhf.
I adjusted myself downward, kneeling nearly on the edge of the chair and forced to put a hand on one of her thighs to keep my balance. She didn't complain, though she let out a sharp, early *HEEK!* that produced a bubble that popped nearly as loudly a second later. Once my ear was at the very apex of her belly, every hiccup bounced my head along with her tummy, as if my weight was barely even there. I wanted to bury my face in the soft fat and feel just a hint of the strong abdominal muscles underneath. I didn't though. I couldn't.
I would control myself.
From up here at the top of her stomach, I could already hear the familiar bubbling and giggling along with her stomach's normal growls and gurgles. Each hiccup sloshed the liquid inside of her, but I could tell the difference between the ones that brought up bubbles and those that didn't. I could hear the slight squeak and strain pass into her chest before making its way up towards her throat, where it would eventually pop out from between her soft-looking lips. And the spasms of her diaphragm were audible too in how they jolted and shook her insides, moving every part of her, but especially those I was touching.
I had the information I needed. I could stop listening.
...her breathing was getting faster.
So were her hiccups.
Strangely, that didn't seem to be restraining the bubbles, which I could hear pushing up into her chest with nearly every spasm.
I moved lower.
Once my ear was on the space over her navel, I heard the burbling of the spirits inside of her more clearly. They were definitely laughing, possibly at me and the circumstances they were forcing me to deal with. As far as I was concerned, that was what they were giggling about. I could hear the bubbles shift and move inside of her, both with and between her hiccups, rubbing against each other, occasionally popping with especially large hiccups, presumably combining multiple bubbles into a single larger one. I'd determined that it was definitely a colony of spirits that Ide was dealing with. Repeatedly. For some reason.
Before I knew what I was doing, one of my hands was very gently on her belly, next to her navel. I pressed softly, and Ide "*HIC-CULP!*" let out the loudest hiccup I'd ever heard. The spirits laughed and burbled more, and a hiccup almost as loud made me jump, presumably when the bubble she'd exhaled popped.
I had to stop this. "It..." I pulled myself back and looked up at her face. She was flushed, and her mouth was open, a bubble or cluster of bubbles escaping on every hiccup. Her eyes were half-lidded and her pupils were wide. Even between her hiccups, every breath she took felt heavy. "It s-seems to be the same problem. Spirits."
After a moment, she nodded, closing her mouth before it popped open again with another hiccup. Even though they stayed partly closed, her eyes would always widen slightly with surprise when she hiccuped. "I seā*heek*āe. That maā*uck* makes sense. *hmk-mmk*"
The silence between us was too much for me to bear. I half laughed. "If I didn't know any better, I might think you were having an affair with these spirits."
It was a relief when she half laughed back and smiled at me, though she also looked away. "It woā*ulk* wouldn't be muā*uck* much of an af---fair. I've nevā*urk* been marrā*eep*āied."
"...really?" I shouldn't have asked that, and I certainly shouldn't have sounded so shocked. It wasn't as if she'd ever mentioned a husband. And it wasn't as if I'd ever asked. But... "but you're beautiful."
She stared at me. I stared back. I couldn't stop myself. She laughed softly and looked away again. "Well. *hmk* You're the one who s---said that whethā*erk* or nā*hnk* not someone's beautif---ful is only one maā*HUP* matter." A few bubbles drifted up between our faces. One popped against my nose with a bouncy little squeak. I hadn't realized how close we were to each other. "...whether oā*urk* or not they're wanā*hnk*āted is someth---thing else."
What could I say to that? What could I possibly say to the sorrowful look on her face? What could I say to the desperation buried in her quiet, calm voice?
"I want you."
No. Absolutely not.
...but maybe...
I laid my hand on her belly again, pressing very gently. She hiccuped loudly, and her tummy forced my hand off of it as a single huge bubble pushed its way out of her mouth. Even as it squeezed between our faces, it didn't pop, just floating up into the rafters instead. "Well. These spirits certainly seem to want you. They've sought you out often enough."
More soft, uncertain laughter. More avoiding eye contact. "Proā*up*ābably not. *HMK-mmp*. If weā*HEEK*āa-ah...*hnk* sorry, that was lā*hlk* loud." I just nodded at her to continue. "...if we're re---really being hoā*hnk*ānest I may haā*hup* have been the one whā*hoop* who sought out th---them." I knew that.
But it still floored me to hear her say it out loud.
I didn't let myself make that obvious. I kept my voice low and calm instead. "Well, that may be the case. But you're drinking from a stream, aren't you?" She nodded. "Streams flow, Ide. The spirits could go with it. It's easier for them to do than staying put. And yet...here they are." My hand was on her spasming tummy again. It drew my eyes to it. I couldn't look away as I watched and felt it bounce. "I think that these spirits may enjoy your company."
A shock went through me when her warm, callused hand landed on top of mine. "I...*hmp* I thiā*ink* I'm coming t---to enjoy theā*urk* their company too. *hmk*."
Her stomach growled underneath our hands and a quick cluster of hiccups bounced bubble after bubble out of her mouth. "Uh oh. We've made them happy. They're celebrating." Ide giggled around her hiccups and bubbles, and her smile made me want to melt. "It seemsā" I realized what I was about to say and tried to stuff the words back into my mouth, but the curious look she gave me made it feel impossible. "...it seems almost rude of me to try to evict them."
Ide hummed. I couldn't look at her face, though she hadn't removed her hand from mine, so we were both still bouncing with her soft, round tummy. "Well I caā*hnk* can't just hiccup foā*urk*āforever. And ceā*hirk*āertainly not hicā*hup*āing these bubbles. I neā*heep* need to eat food, af---after all." I opened my mouth to affirm how obviously right she was, but she continued. "But evā*hic*ācting them does seā*heek* seem rude to m---me. At leā*heek* least doing so so suā*hudd*ādenly. Maybā*eep* there's another way? *hnk?*" I looked up at her and she looked away, but a shy smile stayed on her face. "When we fiā*hirk* first met. If the potion ha---hadn't worked. You saiā*ic* said something ab---bout abdominaā*ulk* pressure?"
The fact that she pushed my hand gently with her own, forcing another sizeable bubble to hiccup out of her made it unmistakably clear she knew what I meant. My heart was pounding so hard that I wondered if she could hear it from how close we were to each other. "I...we can try that. Yeah."
She met my eyes, her own half-lidded and heavy again. "Alright. *hmk*"
Slowly, carefully, I backed up further. I meant to kneel at the foot of the chair, but she pulled her free hand off of her chest and stopped me, guiding me to sit on the edge of her knees instead. With how she was reclined, that put her belly in the perfect place for me to rub it. Even her knees, the thinnest and knobbiest part of her legs, were comfortable to sit on if I kept my own knees on the chair with her on either side of her thighs. The only problem was that that put...inconvenient parts of my body pressed against her skin. I hoped that the layers of fabric between us would keep her from experiencing any wetness.
That worry would have to wait. Ide was in front of me. Her dress opened nearly to the bottom, shoulders half shrugged away, breasts only barely still hidden. Belly completely open to the world, bouncing visibly with every hiccup while the air around us filled with bubbles. I put my palms to her stomach, making a triangle with my forefingers and thumbs around her navel, then gently started to press. "Mmhā*HMP*āp-puh...nnh. *HIGGOLP!*" Her hiccups slowed again as I rubbed my thumbs in small circles up towards her navel. But they got louder and stronger, and each one brought a bubble or set of bubbles out of her mouth. These didn't pop like the others, though, instead floating up to the ceiling one by one, combining and mingling there among the rafters.
"Are you doing alright, Ide?" Her eyes had closed, but she opened them again and met mine, one hand resting on her bare chest just below her neck, the other at the top of her tummy, bouncing along just like my own. After a long moment, she nodded, another large hiccup bringing up another large bubble. There was a dry slipperiness to them as they slid frictionlessly past whatever they touched while deforming to pass through tighter squeezes. That was how the largest ones were able to escape her mouth at all. "Able to breathe?"
"Yeā*HUK*āguh...yes, Caelfā*HNK*āi-iind," She sighed after another large hiccup that I pressed out of her stomach. "You're riā*UCK-CULP!*ār-right that they muā*UCCUP*āmust like me. *HIYUK-HUP!*āmmnhā*HUP!* Oh!" After a split second, Ide giggled. I had no idea what was so funny. Despite that, I was giggling too. "Eā*HEEP* Even at theiā*URK* their worst, I neā*HURP* never feā*HEEK-ULP* feel short of brā*HIUP* breath." The hand resting on her chest rose and fell along with her collarbone, breathing slowly and easily in between her spasms.
"Good. Good." I couldn't find smarter words than that, so instead I refocused on her belly. Her hiccups were practically working themselves out now. As long as I kept my hands still, the way her tummy pushed into me would be more than enough. I kept rubbing anyway, though. For one, I wasn't actually strong enough to keep my hands still for all of them. But for another, she was making the sweetest sounds between her hiccups. As I curled my fingers carefully into her sides, she would whimper, and when I pressed in and upwards with my palms, tiny burps might sneak out of her alongside, and she'd giggle and excuse herself with the slightest look of fluster. But when I massaged around her navel, she'd muffle moans that got caught up and trapped with the bubbles and the hiccups in her throat.
Those were the sort of sounds that...
...I'd heard those sorts of sounds before.
I kept my hips as still as I possibly could on her knees.
One of her hands left her chest, reaching up and touching the back of my neck, gently pulling me. She gazed up at me with eyes like smoke. "Could youā*HOOK*ānnhf...could you *HNK* bend over and *HIUP* l-listen again? *HMKMPāHMP!*āb-buh!" clusters of bubbles escaped her mouth and her eyes followed them up to the ceiling before falling back onto me. She pulled at me again, and I let her draw me in, moving to the back of my head and turning me so that my ear was to her chest again. That trapped her other hand between her stomach and my chest, and every hiccup bounced her beneath me, forcing my whole body to rock. "Thaā*HNK*ānnh...thank youā*HOUK!*"
"Of course." I was so quiet I wasn't confident that Ide had heard it. Her hand left the back of my head and I missed it. I couldn't tell from the motions of her body what she was doing. My own hands were still trapped under me against her tummy. I kept massaging it. What else could I do? Inside of her, I heard the thump of every spasm, the slosh and gurgle and groan of her stomach, the laughter of the spirits as they traveled up through her, and the echo of her throat closing and trapping her air with every hiccup, which were starting to pick up speed again.
"Liā*HIC* l-listen a liā*HIP*ālittle higher?" Her hand trapped between us freed itself effortlessly before landing on my back and pulling me closer. I let her drag me in. I shouldn't have. But I did. As she pulled my chest to hers so that I was straddling her thighs, my head wound up wedged underneath her chin. Her stomach was nearly against mine, pulsing into it with her larger hiccups. Even without that, every spasm was still rocking me. Rocking my body on top of her. While she pulled me closer. "Yes. *HMNK* Like that. *HUK-ULK*āk-kuh!"
I nodded dumbly. What else could I do? My hands were hardly even massaging her anymore, the angle a bit too awkward to do it correctly. With some squirming, I managed to move them to the top of her belly, pressing into that instead. That got much faster clusters of hiccups with far more tiny bubbles than massive single ones, and she giggled with shock. The hand on my back didn't let me pull away, though. Or maybe it would have. I could barely bring myself to try.
Ide's other hand, the one that wasn't holding me against her, slid through its sleeve and pulled inside of her dress. As the empty shoulder fell away completely (which I only sensed instead of seeing, since my head was facing the wrong way), I felt her strong arm move down and slither beneath our hips. I desperately wanted her to touch me, but I shouldn't have been surprised when she didn't.
The movement was still noticeable though. Another rhythm. Another point of friction. Something else that this woman was shaking me with. A sound escaped my throat. It shouldn't have. I couldn't tell whether or not she noticed.
Her hiccups were so bad. I barely had to press anymore. Her own rocking was pushing my hands into her belly enough, and with how close our bodies were pulled together, my arms were practically trapped between us so I couldn't help but push into her. I still did though. I loved all the whines and moans that came out trapped around and between her bubbly hiccups, which were just getting faster and faster. "A-areā" I managed to open up my throat and tried to look up at her, though I was still trapped under her chin. "Are you okay, Ide?" She nodded rapidly above me, and I was lucky that her chin and neck were soft and fat like the rest of her. "Good! G-good. I...I don't...s-spirits..."
"Theā*EEP* they're almā*HOUP*āmost goneā*HEEKUP!*" I didn't realize she'd be able to tell that. I supposed it made sense, though. She was the one they were inside of.
There was only so much thought I could put into that. I could hardly focus on anything right now. Certainly, nothing that wasn't Ide's spasming body underneath me, the deafening hiccups ringing out just above my ears, or the way the bubbles seemed to have congregated around us. It almost felt as if they were pushing me closer into her.Ā
The point where my legs met found her arm. I whined. A hiccup shook us both. I whined more. Her arm didn't stop moving. And soon I was rocking my hips against it, shame and professionalism a distant memory in the back of my mind.
Before I knew what I was doing, I pressed into her belly with all my might, and she exploded with hiccups. They came so fast that I could hardly tell where one ended and another began, and her whole body jolted beneath me over and over and over, each spasm grinding me into her arm as her other hand pulled me tighter still against her and I felt her throat expand and contract slightly with every hiccup as bubbles filled the room andā
And...
And I saw white.
The whole world was just Ide and her spirits and hiccup hiccup hiccup hiccup hiccup, constantly, punishingly, unstoppingly, hiccup hiccup hiccup
And pleasure.
I realized my body was shaking. I realized hers was too. Her hiccups had slowed. When I pulled my face from her neck and gazed up at her, I saw that they didn't bring up any more bubbles. I would have been surprised if they did, given the number that were currently watching us from the ceiling. That was something I probably should have cared about. But I didn't.
Even between her hiccups, Ide was breathing so heavily beneath me. Her body wore a thin sheen of sweat, and her cheeks and chest were flushed, the latter almost completely uncovered. She opened her big brown eyes and looked back at me, holding her head as still as she could while jolting backward again and again and again. I knew she could feel my chest rising and falling against hers like I could feel her bouncing against mine. I wondered if she could feel how fast my heart was beating. "Ideā"
"Please! *HEEK!*" I was surprised at the intensity of her voice. "Ple---ease, call meā"
"NO!" I covered her mouth with my hand. She stared at me, eyes wet and pained. I looked away so I wouldn't have to see her sorrow. "No. Don't tell me your name. Don't give it to me." I slowly pulled my hand away, feeling how her hiccups had slowed further beneath me.
"But...*hnk* but I want you to haā*up*āave it, Caelfind."
I wanted it.
I sighed. "It's the middle of the night. You need rest. Did you have dinner before you came here?" She nodded slowly, tears slipping onto her cheeks. I dried them with my sleeves. "Go into the other room. Take my bed tonight. I...I won't be there with you." Her eyes had widened but then fell at that. "I have to tend to my garden. But I won't be far. If you need me, I'll be just outside until daybreak."
"...thank you?" She sobbed as I got up and pulled her by her hand over towards my bed.
The sob brought her hiccups back.
I didn't deserve her thanks.
She fell asleep more quickly than I would have anticipated. Once she had, I looked up at the bubbles on the ceiling. "Well? You know the way out by now." They didn't leave. I didn't feel like swinging a broom at them at the moment, so I went out to my garden.
It was hours later and the sky was starting to turn purple with morning when Ide came outside. She was redressed, but there were bags under her eyes. "That wasn't enough sleep," I said from where I was crouched with my lantern. "You can stay longer if you want."
Ide shook her head. "No. It's daytime soon. You need your bed. I'll be able to sleep more at home." I nodded and returned my focus to the plant I'd already removed the weeds and insects from. "...Caelfind, I'd like to come visit you tomorrow."
It took me a moment to swallow whatever formed in my throat when she said that. "I'd like it if you visited me tomorrow."
She was too far away for me to read her expression, even with my glasses on, but I saw her nod. "I...I don't think I'll bring the spirits."
"That's fine. You don't need to."
She let out a sigh at that. Of...relief? Hard to say. "But...but I may bring them again sometime."
My face was burning. I hoped the dark was still enough to hide it. "As you like."
"Caelfind, may I ask you a question?"
I couldn't help it. I laughed. "I've told you before that I doubt I could stop you."
"You could stop me." She walked toward me, then took one of my hands in hers, joining me in the lantern light. "You could stop me if you wanted to."
"...no. I like your questions."
She squeezed my hand tighter at that. "Alright...alright...Caelfind, do you..." She swallowed. It had been quite some time since I'd seen her this nervous. "Do you think that you would ever give someone your name?"
My chest contracted at that. I looked away from her. "I don't know." I thanked the forest for filling the silence between us with something at least. "...but of all the people in my life so far, if I shared it with someone, it would be you."
The way her face glowed at that. Bright. Like the sun. Much too bright.
But somehow I still wanted to be in it.
"We haven't even known each other for a season," I said partly to myself.
"I've never had a better season than this."
"That's sad, Ide." It came out of my mouth before I could stop myself.Ā
Ide let out a loud laugh, and I felt myself slump with relief. "Maybe it is. Maybe it is. But...but I think that our spirits might have wanted me to meet you." She let out a much weaker laugh. "You probably think that's silly."
I huffed. "Whether or not I think it's silly, it's not impossible. They certainly seem to like you. But why do you think they'd bother?"
She shrugged. "You're the one who told me we can never really understand spirits."
"Damn you for listening to me."
Ide laughed again. Her grip tightened on my hand, then she lifted it and took it in both of hers, holding it to her chest. She stared down at our hands together. "...the priests think that's what will happen if I listen to you. I'll be damned."
Fuck.
I tried to pull my hand away. She wouldn't let me. She kept it in both of hers and looked down at me. "I can be damned, Caelfind. I can be damned for you."
After a moment, I let my head fall, resting my forehead against her hands around mine. "At least give it a year before you say that." I pulled my hand again. This time she let it go. "The sun's coming up. I should go inside." Ide nodded and stepped out of my way. I opened the door and heard her feet on the path. I stared at her retreating back. "...Ide." She looked back at me. "I don't care whether the spirits come or not. But visit me tomorrow."
Even from here, I could see the way she smiled at me. "I will."
I wound up writing a decent amount. I think I also might end up doing more with these characters in the future. Could work with my more "Out there" kinks, one of which is already on display in this one.
Now has a sequel story.
TW: Death (mentioned), loneliness, religious trauma (implied)
Kinks: Hiccups, bubbles, stomach noises, burps, uh...voooooore? Kinda? Living creature inside of another living creature.
"I'm soā*HUP* sorry, are you th---the hag?"
I bit the inside of my cheek and braced myself for what was coming as the soft, round woman outside my door stared at me. Compared to her, with my bone-white skin and hair and my scrawny form, I may as well have been a skeleton. "Yes, I'm the hag. The old one's dead. What do you want?"
Her head whipped back and forth, and she looked stupidly innocent and naive even though she was at least half a decade older than me. Her case of the hiccups probably added to that, especially with how it made her whole body hop and the little surprised way her eyes would widen when they came, not that I should have been paying attention to that. I wondered if the gardens full of herbs, chimney smoke that transformed into clouds, and the generally mystical aura that my previous master's hut had about it was enough to convince people I was serious. If I had to start wearing her black dresses and pointed hats, I'd be irritated.
This prospective patient was already irritating me. Her nervous gaze finally landed on me again. "I, umā*HMK!* Oh! I-I'm sorry, Iā*HIUK-UCK* I really should be goiā"
"What do I need to do to prove to you people that I'm a professional?!" I knew that "yelling at random women" was not the correct answer, but I was sick of people hovering outside of my hut or coming to meet me, then walking away when they found out I was all they were getting. "Dye my hair black? Age seventy years? Put a hex on anyone who comes within a mile of my house?!" It only occurred to me after I said that that it sounded like a threat, and the woman had taken a few steps back. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "No. Sorry. I won't curse you. I'm not that kind of hag." As much as I was tempted to become one sometimes.
"I-It's not thā*ACK-ulp* th-that." She shook her head, then shook again with another hiccup, and with how scared she looked I was a bit surprised she hadn't lost them. "I'm soā*URK* sorry, I know that a haā*UCK* hag's time is veā*HURK* very impā*UP* important." There were few things I could think of right now that were less important than my copious free time, but I knew that saying as much would be nothing but trouble should people ever actually start coming to me for help. "And you're oā*olk* only supposed to g---go to a haā*ulk* hag for serious *HUP* problemsā"
I sighed again. "No, you're only supposed to go to a hag for problems nobody else can solve. There are plenty of serious problems that I want nothing to do with and plenty of small problems I'm the best option for. I can't fix everything. Some problems are forever. But I won't know unless you tell me what it is."
"Oh. *OLP*" That seemed to calm her down a bit. "W-well, if, umā*HMK* if it's noā*HOK* not a bo---bother for youā*HIUKāULK!*" That louder hiccup burst out of her, as did a few shimmery little bubbles that floated up from her mouth before popping in the air, each with a very audible little hiccup of its own. Her round cheeks were flushed and she covered her mouth with both hands. "...I haā*UP* have the hiccups. *HMK* And they woā*HOLK* won't go away. *HMK-mmp* And sometimes theā*IC-ULP*āp-puh!" She exhaled more bubbles which forced their way past her fingers, transforming into dozens of tiny ones rather than a handful of small ones to do so. "...they do that. *HMK*."
"Yyyyep. That's a hag problem." I bit my inner lip to make sure I didn't smile. It wouldn't behoove me to act happy about a patient's suffering, no matter how minor. "Come inside and sit on one of the chairs." I held open the door for her and she nodded before rushing in, looking around and finding her way to what was once my master's favorite squishy seat.
Speaking of my master, I nearly heard her screeching voice in my head: "Just because you think you know what it is doesn't mean you shouldn't check! More mistakes are made in assumption than ignorance!" The fact that she was wise didn't make her shrieks any less painful or her advice any less annoying, but I'd have been stupid not to listen to her because of that. "I have a theory what's causing this, but I'd like to give you an examination to be sure."
"O-of course! *HMNK!*" I switched from my smoky quartz glasses to my normal ones, then turned and started rooting through the previous hag's stuff. Even after months of living here alone, I still hadn't managed to sort out and fix her incomprehensible system of storing things. "Um, mā*HMP* may I ask foā*URK* for your name? *HNK-lk!*"
"You may ask." After hearing a few hiccups behind me and getting a glimpse at her dumb, confused face, I felt bad enough to decide to elaborate. "But just because you can ask doesn't mean that I'll answer."
"Oh. *HMK*"
Well. She didn't need to sound quite so sad about it. I looked over my shoulder and saw her looking genuinely crestfallen before hiccuping out a large, singular bubble that popped noisily. When it did, she jumped, then caught my gaze and shrunk beneath it, making a small, apologetic gesture. "...but my master used to call me Caelfind. I suppose you can too."
She brightened up immediately and hiccuped a cluster of far smaller bubbles. "Oh! *HIP!* Thank you, Caelfiā*HNK*āind! My name isā"
"Don't!" I turned around and held my hand out, and she froze, mouth still open around a bubble. I realized how dire I'd sounded, then did my best to relax and turn back to my search. "Don't go around telling unnaturally pale magic women in forests your name."
"Right! *HIK!*" I nearly laughed at just how surprised she sounded, and I heard her pound a fist into an open palm.
"If that's the sort of thing you have trouble remembering, I'm shocked you haven't been kidnapped by elves yet."
She chuckled weakly and I felt a bit bad for being so blunt. After a moment of uncomfortable near silence, she spoke again. "Maybe I haā*UCK* have and nobody se---seemed to notice."
I'd heard last words from lonesome old widows that sounded less sad than that.
It was none of my business. What was my business was the fact that this woman kept hiccuping bubbles in my hut. So when I finally got my hand on my master's ear trumpet, I forgot to stop myself from letting out a triumphant "HAH!" I also forgot to make what I was doing clear before storming back over to her and putting the trumpet to her chest, then bending over to listen to it. It was only after I heard her distressed squeak echo through her chest that it occurred to me what I'd just done. "Uh, sorry."
"N-no, noā*HEEP!* please!" She undid the top few buttons of her dress, and even though I'd seen naked people of all kinds come through here, there was still something in me that felt compelled to look away, especially at seeing the way her chest shook and bounced her heavy breasts. Her skin was significantly darker than mine, (as was everybody's) but it still seemed flushed, so I supposed at least I wasn't the only embarrassed one here. I put the horn to her chest again and listened carefully, hearing the way the muscles inside of her spasmed. Nothing unusual there. To my...frustration, I'd have to move lower, so I bent down and began pulling across her skin towards her stomach. She inhaled sharply and I decided not to try and interpret that. "Um, Caeā*EEP* Caelfind, can I aā*HUP* ask you so---somethiā*hnk*?"
"I probably can't stop you." The irregular leaps of her round belly and the gurgles and sloshes inside with each hiccup were more than distracting enough.
"Well, uā*HMP* um, why aā*URK* are you a hag?"
I scowled as I looked up at her. "Because the old one died. We've been over this."
"No no no, nā*hnk* not that!" She waved her hands placatingly, and I wondered exactly how intimidating I was coming across, given how much smaller than her I was. "I meā*HEEK* I mean *hmk* why do you neā*HEEK* need to be?"
I could feel my eyebrows furrowing and pulled my ear away from the horn. Dammit, I couldn't listen to her and her stomach at the same time and find what I was looking for. "'Need' to be?"
"W-well," her skin was flushed even more, and she wouldn't meet my eyes as she hiccuped a cluster of small bubbles. "I meanā*hnk* being a haā*UCK* a hag is a job for a spā*hip* spinster, right? But you're soā*olk* so young aā*hnk* and beautiful, so whā*up* why couldn't yā*hnk* you get married? *HMK-mmp!*" I was staring. I probably shouldn't have been staring, but that was what I was doing anyway. And one of my hands had ended up resting on her belly, which kept bouncing beneath it, and that wasn't helping. She squirmed under my gaze. "I-I'm soā*hrk* sorry, should I nā*hnk* not have asked? *HEEK* People tell me that I *hmk* have a lot of queā*HNK* questions that nobā*up*ābody cares abouā*uck* or needs to knā*HNK* know the answer to and *HIUK* that I shoā*ULK* should justā"
"Shut up." I covered her mouth. She hiccuped. Tiny bubbles slipped between my fingers. "I can't listen properly if you keep talking."
"Oh." Her shoulders jolted silently and she looked away again. "S---sorry."
I leaned back down towards her belly, but I couldn't focus, and after a moment I sighed. "Just because the questions don't get answered doesn't mean you shouldn't ask them. It just means that whoever you ask isn't answering them. And when someone won't give you an answer, the most important thing you can do is figure out why."
She was (mostly) silent for a moment. "Why?" she asked.
"Yes, why they won't answer you."
"Nā*hnk* no, I mean *hmp* I'm asking you." I looked up and saw her gazing down at me. "Why wā*ulk* won't you answer *HNK-lp*Ā my questions?"
After a long moment, I chuckled. "Well, I guess that's one way to gather information. For the most part, I won't answer them because I'm obstinate and ill-tempered. That was my master's way of saying I was a pain in her ass." She laughed too, a few hiccups and bubbles tangled up with them, and the way she smiled was...painful to look at. But it wasn't like focusing on her chest or stomach would be any better. "But as for marriage, that wouldn't work for me. Whether or not I'm 'beautiful' is one matter," and my mind frankly wasn't even willing to try and acknowledge that opinion right now, "whether or not I'm fragile is another. I can't go outside in the sun without being burnt. My master taught me some ointments that can protect me, or at least reduce the burns, but there's very few wives I can imagine that need to spend less than an hour at a time in the sun."
"Oh." I didn't know what emotion I was hearing in her voice. I hoped it wasn't pity. I didn't particularly want to be a wife, and I didn't know what I'd do with pity for anything else. "*hup* but you have a gā*hnk-lk* garden."
I turned towards her. "And?"
"Doesn't that neā*heek* need to be tend---ded?"
Huh. That was a more clever question than I'd anticipated. "I tend the gardens at night. The plants need sunlight and they need weeding and watering, but they don't need all of those things at the same time."
"I see! *HEEP*" Her smile was painfully cute. I had to remember that she was just a client like any other...albeit one of my first, and certainly the first to take me seriously. "Wait, *hup* then when do yā*hnk* you sleep?"
At this rate, I was never going to get this examination done, though in fairness to her, I was the one letting her get away with stalling me. Having to be that close to her spasming stomach was going to be a...charged experience, so I could deal with questions. And hers continued to be less inane than expected. "I sleep during the day. Unfortunately, that's also when clients come. Hence the very loud bell."
"Oh! No woā*hup* wonder you've been grā*hrk-lk* grouchy! I'm sorrā*EEP!*"
"Grouchy". That was a rather patronizing way to put it. Something offensive in me found it cute. "If I didn't want the clients I wouldn't have the bell." After a moment I sighed. "But yes, I would probably be a significantly more hospitable hag if you had visited me at night."
"I'll remā*hmp* remember that for neā*uck* next time!" Given that she'd apparently forgotten to not tell her name to magic women in huts, I doubted it, but the thought was nice at least.
And I should really have been dealing with this nice woman's problem and not letting her waste both of our time. Unlike myself, hers was probably of some value and better utilized elsewhere. "Now shut up, I need to listen to your stomach." She nodded and obligingly covered her mouth. No getting away from it now. I knelt down to get a better angle and undid more buttons of her dress before putting the bell of the trumpet against the apex of her belly, moving it around as I listened from the thin end. I could hear the muscles inside growling, the liquids sloshing, the echoes of the air in her lungs and the spasm of her diaphragm with every hiccup, the burbling and pulsing ofā
Wait, there it was!
I forced myself to ignore everything else and stood back up, moving the horn a bit above her navel, and inside of her, I heard a bubbling and something like a high-pitched giggle. "Hah!" I pulled the horn away and clapped my hands before heading over to the pantry of herbs and powders. "It's exactly what I thought it was! Easy fix!"
"Reā*HEEP* really?" She sounded so elated. I was honestly glad to have my head in a pantry. Looking at her smile was becoming troublesome. "What iā*CUP* is it?"
"Just a mischievous spirit. I'll have you exorcised inā"
"EXORC---CIZED?!"
I stared back at her and saw that her face had gone pale enough to vaguely resemble mine. Her big brown eyes were wide with horror, and her half-naked body (why hadn't she buttoned back up, that wasn't helping!) was trembling. "Um, yes?"
Her eyes went even wider. "I-I'm sorā*EEP!* Please don't teā*HUP* tell anyone thaā*HUK* that I've been pos---posessed by deā*HEE*āmons! I sweaā*URK* that Iā"
"Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down! Who said anything about demons?"
She stared up at me, looking the tiniest bit less like she was panicking. She'd still shrunken back into my master's chair though. "Youā*hnk* you said that y---you would exorcize meā*heep*āe-eee..." I noticed that the bubbles had reduced again. It seemed like they came less often when she was stressed. Maybe she was unconsciously suppressing them.
"Yes, that's the procedure."
A bit of the fear came back into her eyes. "Sā*hop* so that me---eans I'm possessed *hnk* right?"
My nose wrinkled. "I, uh...I suppose technically, but that's not really communicating the right idea. Okay, wait, hang on, I think you're thinking about this wrong." I walked back over and crouched by the chair again, working on buttoning her dress back up since apparently she hadn't thought to do so. "It's like how you thought you only come to hags for serious problems. No, you only come to hags for unsolvable problems. Plenty of those are relatively small, and plenty of serious problems are perfectly solvable on your own. Maybe not to everyone's satisfaction, but they can be solved. Exorcisms are like hags. It's just a specific procedure for a specific problem that can be serious or can be relatively benign. This is one of the latter. And it's certainly not a 'demon'. You've been spending time around priests, haven't you?" She nodded slowly and I spat into the fireplace as I finished buttoning her dress again before stalking back over to my pantry. "Insufferable people. Spreading agitation everywhere because scared cattle can be cowed by barking dogs. This is why you come to a professional for these sorts of things, not some elderly godshound who thinks that literacy makes him smarter than everyone else."
"Yā*hnk* you're not lit---terate?" I couldn't help pulling back out of the pantry and glaring at her, and she waved her hands placatingly again, though at least she looked less terrified. "I-I don't beā*HEEP* believe that maā*huk* makes me smarter than y---you or makes you le---less of a hagā"
"Wait, you are literate?"
She blinked at me. "Yes? Evā*erk*āryone in my vi---village is."
Honestly, I had no clue what to do with that. So I went back to the pantry and found the lemon extract powder and treated soda ash, then brought them over to the water I'd pumped last night and mixed some into a bottle before corking it. "It's simple, but it'll take a few hours to prepare."
She'd gotten up and was looking at me from across the room. "To prepā*hup* prepare holy watā*urk*?"
I resisted rolling my eyes. "It's not holy water any more than soup is holy water. This is all the mixing I'll need to do, but I'm going to put it in the root for an hour or two." I opened the trapdoor and climbed down to the cellar to get to the icebox. A lot of the ice was melting. I was going to have to find a day to take another trip into town to get ice from the yakhchÄl. That would be annoying. Sloughing through the rain was misery, and going out on cloudy or foggy days was never completely safe. "Closer to two, from the look of things."
The woman had ended up hovering by the cellar door and scrambled away when I climbed back up. "Doeā*uck* does it neeā*heep* need to be puā*urk* purified?" She was hiccing up bubbles about every fifth spasm now, so it seemed like she was less anxious than the initial mention of an exorcism made her.
"No, it needs to be cooled while it's corked. That makes the bubbles inside of it form correctly. It makes it 'effervescent,' apparently."
She tilted her head at me. "Aā*urk* are you an aā*hulk*āchemist?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Absolutely not, no! Obnoxious intellectuals. Thinking that if you heat enough fluids you'll eventually find god in one of them."
"So y---you think they're liā*uck* like priests?"
Even though I shouldn't have, I scoffed at that. "No, of course not. Alchemists actually do something. All priests are good for is reading books and scaring people. Alchemists are a pain, but they're a useful pain. I still get deliveries once a month from one that lives in the city further out west. Never learned who they actually were, but apparently their deal with my master still stands, even after she's dead. Their apprentice is a chatty one." The woman sat back down and nodded, but her lips were pursed. "...so I don't have any books that you could read, but I suppose you could go for a walk orā"
"Whaā*uck* what's the dif---ference?" I blinked at her and she stared back at me. "Betw---between a hā*ic* hag and an aā*ulk*āchemist? You boā*hulp* both make potions, r---right?"
I looked at her. She looked...weirdly comfortable in that chair. I'd never been able to figure out how to sit in it. Instead, I sat in the chair across from it, like I always had. It was harder. That suited me.
My master always said that our clients didn't need to know how we did what we did. She'd never discussed it with them; around them at best, and even then rarely. She preferred to tell me what to do, let me pick up information from it, then explain it afterward, or have me guess what exactly we'd been doing. Her clients never needed to know anything.
But then, her clients never actually asked.
"...well, for one, alchemists call their potions 'tinctures' or something ridiculous like that. But it does go a little deeper."
It was actually closer to three hours later when I went downstairs to get the bottle back. She was hiccing up bubbles nearly every time now, practically melted into my master's old chair with comfort, smiling wide and eyes shining as we'd talked. I'd only remembered what she was actually here for when a particularly large "*HIGGULP!*" forced a massive bubble out of her and had her resting her hand on her chest, at which point I ran downstairs and forgot to explain myself.
"Alright. So the potion should be ready now." I said as I climbed back up from the cellar. "The taste won't be the best, but it's perfectly safe to drink. I, um, could have added some herbs ahead of time, butā"
"No, no, that's peā*URK* perfectly fine," she said, taking the glass bottle from me. After a second, she blinked. "Wait, *hnk* 'drink'?"
"Yes?"
"Noā*hock* not apply anā*heep* anywhere?"
"It's a potion, not an ungent. The problem is inside of you, so it makes sense the solution would go there too."
"Right..." She looked strangely skeptical. More so than she had at any point since she'd been here. "Aā*hnk* and then wh---at? What's the eā*huk*āxorcism?"
"Well, the potion should take care of most of it, but," I had hoped to avoid bringing this up at all, knowing just how badly my unspeakably pale face hid any blushing, but after how many questions I'd answered, it would be more strange to stop now. "If that doesn't work, there are some abdominal pressure techniques I can use to help."
I couldn't read her face in response to that. She seemed very focused on the cold glass bottle she was holding. "Hoā*uck* how does waā*urk* water that's noā*hup* not holy exorc---cise anythiā*ngk*?"
"Like I said, it's not a demon." I finally found a corkscrew from among my master's implements and stuck it into the cork. "The reaction that took place in the waterānnf, come now." I flinched when she put her large, soft hand on top of mine, then pulled the cork I'd been struggling with almost effortlessly. As soon as she'd pulled it, the bottle opened with a loud pop, and bubbles formed inside of it. "Ah. Thank you. The reaction that took place infused the water with air."
"So weā*uck* we're goā*ingk* to stoā*hup* me from hiccuping buā*hup*ābbles by adā*hnk*āadding more bu---bubbles?"
"More or less. It's displacement. If a tub has enough water in it, you can remove water by adding more water, and depending on the temperature or weight, you can eventually replace all of what was inside of it with something new. And these bubblesā" I tapped the glass of the bottle with my nail, "āshould be less mischievous than the ones currently inside of you."
"Iā*hilp* I see!" Her eyes were shining again. And that was doing unpleasant things to my heart and stomach. Speaking of stomachs, when she started drinking, even from beneath her stiff dress, I could see her belly expanding slightly with each gulp. She drank it all down before I could tell her not to. It was honestly kind of impressive. When she pulled it away, before she could say or do anything else, her mouth opened with an "EEEUUUUUUURRRRGK! Oh! *HIULK!* Oh my goā*HOOK* goodness, excuāuuUUUUUuuuse meā*HEEK!*"
With every belch, lines of bubbles came up from her throat and floated into the air, and each hiccup brought large singular bubbles alongside. Rather than popping like those she'd hiccuped previously had, these hung in the air, gravitating towards one another. "It's fine, this is to be expected." Against my better judgment, I sat her up slightly so that I could pat her back as she rocked. Her hiccups and belches increased to the point that it was impossible for her to talk, and I could see her belly spasming, then contracting a little smaller each time (to my...disappointment? How unprofessional). Eventually, though, the belches brought up fewer and fewer bubbles and the hiccups stopped summoning them at all. A mass of bubbles floated unpopping at the ceiling of my hut, and I picked up my master's broom and swatted at them. "Alright, you've had your fun! Now get lost! Go on back to wherever you came from!" With enough encouragement, they eventually found their way to the chimney and went up along with the steam from my cauldron and smoke from the fire. "There. Exorcism completed...most likely. If it was a single air or water spirit, you shouldn't have any more bubbles in you. If it was a colony, you might hiccup or burp a few more, but they shouldn't be interested in sticking around now that all their friends are gone.
The woman was staring up at the ceiling where the bubbles had been, covering her mouth now and muffling the rapid hiccups and short little burps that kept popping out of her. "Oh! *HIC!* Oh, I sā*HEEK* see nā*HUP* now! BORPā*HIK-ULK!* I thoā*HUK* thought the rā*HIP*āver watā*URK* was fuā*HUKKUP*āuuuurp funny today!"
"Yep. Sometimes spirits wind up in your food or water and you end up eating or drinking them. Normally it's harmless for everyone involved, but sometimes they like to have a laugh at the eater's expense." A split second later, the woman's stomach growled and gurgled noisily. I turned my head away so she wouldn't see my blush. "And speaking of eating, you've probably stayed longer than you intended to. Let me feed you, I always make more stew than I need."
We ate dinner together that night. Now that her hiccups were mundane, she seemed completely unbothered by them, and a bowl of stew was enough to chase them away, though a few singular hiccups brought up a bubble or two over the course of her meal. When she opened the door, the sun was going down, but I still switched rapidly to my quartz glasses. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgotā"
"It's fine, but warn me next time." ...I said as if there would be a next time anytime soon. It wasn't as if people enjoyed visiting the local hag. "And if anyone else has that problem, send them to me. The same with other hag types of problems."
"Of course!" She smiled at me and my heart fluttered offensively. "Thank you, Caelfind!" And she waved as she ran off.
...I never actually got her name.
That was fine. Hags didn't ask their patients' names. They didn't need them. I swept up the hairs and dust that the woman had shed and collected drops of the popped bubbles off of the ceiling, then bottled it all to use as reagents later. Anything left behind was my payment. She hadn't forgotten any coins or brought any food, but that was fine. Hags never expected more than reagents and grudging gratitude.
The sun kept setting and I started lighting candles and lanterns. It was going to be a tiring night.
It was after sundown the next day when I heard the bell outside ring. I'd slept the entire day, so I rushed to dress myself and get to the door. "Yes, I'm the hag, the old oneā" My words stopped in my mouth, and they still would have even if they hadn't been interrupted by a noisy hiccup.
The woman from yesterday was in front of me again. She had a basket of bread and vegetables, and her round, brown cheeks were smiling, even while they flushed as bubbles hiccuped out of her. "Um, it, ehā*hip!* It seems I foā*urk* forgot noā*hok* not to drink frā*up* from the buā*hup*ābly parts of th---nnf, of the river agā*huk*āgain, Caelfiā*hnk*āind." She giggled bashfully.
I blinked and stared at her. She had a bag on her hip. I recognized a stylus for a wax writing tablet sticking out of it. "And yet you remembered what my master called me and remembered to come after dark."
She looked away. "Shā*hup* should I no---not have?"
"...no. You clearly have a problem for a hag to solve. Now come inside."
How brightly she smiled at me practically burned like the sun. "Of c---course, thaā*HNK!* thank you! Nowā*hup* I remember yestā*urk*āterday you saiā*hup* said you'd neeā*heep* need to go inā*hnk*āto town for i---ice soon. *HNKlp!*" Soon, bubbles were floating out of her with every hiccup as she talked at me about whether she might carve some new ice herself and deliver it to me tomorrow night. She also asked what other things in the town could be useful for me and started writing them down on her little wax tablet.
I was going to have to think of something to call this woman, wasn't I?
As I mixed up more water, lemon extract, and treated soda ash, I also decided I should tell the alchemist's apprentice to increase the amount of those he brought me every month. I didn't think I could trust her not to "forget" about that river again. And selfishly, I didn't particularly want her to try and remember.
Character getting way too stuffed but it's 10% food 90% air
trapped air my beloved,,,,,, (& these can definitely overlap so it might be fun to combine these various Plot Aspects into full scenarios)
š Your character's belly is bulging like crazy after eating a portion of their meal, tight and round and undeniably out of room. They and the people they're with think they're definitely too full to eat any more, but your character lets out an absolutely ridiculous burp that startles even them, and suddenly they have plenty of space to keep eating.
š½ļø Your character knows they're perfectly capable of cleaning their plate. They also have a tendency to swallow a lot of air while eating and they often let out little burps during meals to let it out, maybe not even realizing that they're doing it. When they're eating with someone they don't want to burp in front of, though, they find themself getting full a lot faster than they're used to. They don't want to look silly for taking/ordering the portion that they did so they keep going, determined to finish their food even though their belly is struggling to squeeze in anything else on top of all that air.
š£ļø Your character never shuts up. They can talk anybody's ear off without even realizing they're doing it, and their friends fondly roll their eyes and deal with it. Of course, talking while eating results in a lot of swallowed air. One day, they're out for lunch with friends, and after chattering away with their mouth full the entire time, they're left with an uncomfortably bloated tummy, tight and sore and far too full. Suddenly they're not so chatty anymore now that they're not feeling too good.
š¤µ Your character is eating at some kind of date/event that they want to make a good impression at, and they avoid burping the entire time they're there. Of course, this means that once their belly fills up with any air they've swallowed with their food, they run out of space, and though they feel pretty stuffed by the end of it, they haven't eaten much. Once they're finally home and they can let all that air out, they find that they're still very hungry--even more so than usual since their stomach is now all stretched out.
š Your character has to go out today, and they're struggling to fit into their outfit after eating, their belly seemingly far too stuffed even though they didn't eat all that much. After some straining and squeezing, they're just about ready to put on something looser when their stomach, having been jostled around plenty, finally lets all the trapped air out in the form of a huge burp, deflating their round belly and allowing them to get dressed in their outfit of choice.
ā±ļø Your character is in a rush to get to some kind of meeting/appointment/event, and they have to eat fast to make it in time. They succeed both in wolfing down their lunch and being punctual, but they arrive with a bloated, rumbly, uncomfortable belly, and now they're looking for an opportunity to let all that trapped air out discreetly before anybody notices.
š Your character feels absolutely stuffed even though they haven't eaten much, and the people they're with are teasing them for having such a tiny capacity. As it turns out, their belly was mostly full of air, and once a big burp frees up some space, they wind up out-eating everybody else at the table.
Hiccup like burps! Annoying as all fuck, but severely underrated in the community.
yEAH
I don't have a weakness for hiccups specifically or burps specifically, but what I do have a huge weakness for is the progression of strained, unsuppressable sounds that super stuffed person may make because they seemingly Cannot Help It. So like a hiccup that becomes a burp, followed by a groan, followed by a stomach gurgle that prompts another soft belch, and so on. And not to mention those sounds that are not really classifiable as burp, hiccup, or groan because they somehow sound like all three because the person is just That Full? š„ eek
It's really unfortunate too because this stuff is So Good but also really hard to represent in writing in a smooth and readable way. ^^'''
