hhhh tummies...,.,..

18+ || they/them

[fatlesbianjoyer]

love when someone gains so fast that all of their weight seems to end up in their belly, creating an enormous ball gut that the rest of their body can’t possibly counterbalance. every spare pound hanging over their waistband, skin stretched to its limit trying to contain tens of thousands of excess calories greedily gorged on before their body could even begin to process it normally.

[sinningtamer]

Ok I don’t know if you’re into stomach noises but your p///hm posts have got me fucking feral so let me present you with this: Gr///ace, who had to explain to R//ocky why the human stomach makes noise (and that it’s usually a sign of hunger) with a painfully stuffed belly now having to explain that he doesn’t want more food and that he in fact overdid it a bit. Meanwhile it doesn’t seem to compute, because Gr///ace internal body parts make sounds. Must mean he is hungry. Needs more food, right?

Sorry this is ass. I’m really fucking dumb and i love your ideas

mmmhhhmmm mhmhmmmm this has been sitting in my inbox for a week and i have been goddamn obsessed. Never apologize for your genius anon, i just kept putting off answering it only for the fact that it’s so good and i really wanted to grace (pun intended) it with some actual art or fic but that is not happening. sorry. bluh.

STILL GONNA RAMBLE. LOTS of thoughts about how on their journey back when G.race was rationing food he was just never full, constantly a little hungry 24/7. R0cky gets so used to his stomach growling, concerned when G.race explains what it means and how it happens when he has so little food :( he manages to tune it out when it’s constant towards the end of the trip but watching G.race almost starve to death is pretty traumatizing

flash forward to when E.rid finally has food properly synthesized for G.race and he’s getting back to normal weight and R0cky oversees all he’s eating. no more stomach growling! he’ll make sure G.race is never hungry!

however. at one point when G.race is healthy enough to be chilling alone at his place he overdoes it— man, whatever new thing they did to the meburgers is really good, they’ve got the flavors down so well! he actually overeats for the first time in… forever. and R0cky comes over with his suit on and he’s never been around G.race actually stuffed like this. it’s weird! but his stomach is still making the same noise it does when he’s hungry, and that hasn’t happened in forever, that’s bad!!

G.race stirs from where he’s dozing off on the couch as R0cky is rambling about how bad bad bad, G.race is stupid and forgot to eat and is going to starve again, dumb human!! and runs off to make him more food even as G.race tries to explain it’s the exact opposite. too late. especially with someone as demanding and impatient as R0cky. another burger in orifice. now.

(i do think R0cky would be purposefully fooling himself a little bit… he probably subconsciously believes G.race is full but he’s just scared of seeing him hungry again his logical brain doesn’t work… and also i just think digestion is erotic and scandalous for Eri.dians… with their thick carapaces they can’t hear inside others easily but G.race’s thin skin and fragile organs means R0cky can’t tune out the show that is G.race while stuffed… sooo many gross human noises… disgusting….do it again……)

[sinningtamer]

as i was saying

[bellywatch101-deactivated202504]

Little gurgles while my belly struggles after a stuffing 😋

[lowlybanana]

I so badly want to get someone stuffed to max capacity as early in the day as possible and then every time a tiny bit of room opens up just immediately fill them again, just keeping them in that huge helpless space the entire day 🥺

[natethefa2]

“food balloon” is such a sexy phrase like yes PLS gorge yourself for me till you’re so swollen and distended that taking a deep breath is difficult and you look like a literal overfed balloon

[diary-of-an-achy-tum]

Reverie

A Stuffing Kinkfic Rewrite

CONTAINS: bakery manager x reader, stuffing, light dom feedism, light eructo, belly rubs

Reminder for what this is: there were some old fics/adjacent things that used to be around that I latched onto but was dissatisfied with them because of spelling mistakes, being RPF, or feeling unfinished etc. This is the first of 3 rewrites I’ve hoped to do, but they are not connected in any other way.

Details about the original:

It was a post on Tumblr that I believe has been lost to time, I don’t know if there were any titles on the post. I hold no ill will towards whomever wrote it originally, and I love the concept too much to not try to fix it up a bit.

What I remember about the original: 2 unnamed people working at a bakery, 2nd person perspective. The character is said to typically eat a lot of the bakery’s leftovers, and this time the character is made to eat an entire wedding cake on top of that, because it was made in the wrong flavor. They stop after eating each layer though didn’t indicate which they started with and would try to rub their belly but would be encouraged to keep eating instead. This would occur until they finished the entire cake. The manager then promptly leaves and the character is forced to clean up the mess on a full stomach.

Things I wanted to fix: the spelling, the lack of detail about the cake and bakery operations, the rushed-feeling ending and withholding of relief from the full belly. Hopefully all is accomplished and more (also quick warning that it’s quite long), enjoy.

—————

You’re an early riser, though your body belabors it. You’re the first person to enter the small bakery, Reverie, every morning. Your tired mind skims across the most preliminary of preparations, until you find yourself peering through the oven glass at the rising dough of treats and confections, the task of making the dough itself so instinctual now that your brain neglects to even remember doing so.

When everything is baked to perfection, you heave trays and trays of daily cookies, tarts, croissants and more to their displays, for the many customers to glance at throughout the day, their hungry eyes compelling them to buy more and more. It’s around the time you are filling in the last of the shelves with the new stock that the only other employee, your manager, clocks in for the day, nodding to you with an unwavering sense of trust as they don a matching apron.

You finish the current task by placing the day-old desserts in a separate, discounted display. At your manager’s behest, the desserts not bought from this discount pile at the end of the day are given to you. Your manager sees to it that you are eating well throughout the day, and consistently reminds you to partake in your allotted confectionary while behind the counter or doing other tasks, along with providing you your generous lunch breaks. You oblige, if a bit reluctantly, though you have omitted from telling them that when you lumber home from work every day, you can do little else than rub your massive, sugar-bloated stomach in bed until you fall asleep.

——————

Today is a slow day, with little to indicate that anything is but ordinary. Your manager, really the owner of this bakery, tends to handle special projects on their own, as the more experienced of the two of you at decorating. These assignments don’t pop up super frequently, as Reverie is but a little known secret of your city, but those who come seeking catering, wedding cakes, and other large desserts have never once been disappointed by the quality. Your manager has been in the back kitchen most of the day, handling the most recent order, while you munch away on stale treats at the counter.

You’re beginning to feel how full you are, a twinge appearing in your side followed by a hiccup. You feel your face growing warm as you cover your mouth, but thankfully no customers are around, though you hadn’t thought to check in the moment. As your focus returns, you notice the voice of your manager in conversation coming from the kitchen:

“I see - - I’m so sorry to hear that, yes we can accommodate - - no trouble at all! These things are common - - yes, please don’t worry, I’m happy to do so free of charge - - I insist - - thank you - -“

You then hear a plastic click as they return the phone to the wall, a drawn-out sigh accompanying it. They push through the double doors behind you, apron covered in flour and frosting, and address you with a small smile.

“Looks like we’ve got a situation.”

——————

“How does someone develop an allergy so sudden?” You ask incredulously.

“No clue! But now I have to remake this entire cake in a different flavor.” Your manager sighs even deeper. You rendezvoused in the back room after closing a bit earlier (and hastier, to the chagrin of your stomach) than normal. “Sorry I might have to keep you later than usual, you’ll be getting overtime for this. I just need help setting up and cleaning, I’ve got the mixing and decorating handled. Oh, and help yourself to any leftovers. There’s quite a lot to go around, it’s just you and me here after all.”

You nod, beginning to gather utensils, though you try to ignore your apron digging into your full stomach.

Your manager looks resolute, saying to you and themselves, “It’ll take more time but it’ll be worth it. After all,” they mention over their shoulder with a smile, “it would be bad business if one of the grooms were to die on their wedding day.”

——————

The three-tiered wedding cake looms over you on the center counter of the kitchen. It’s unavoidable from all angles, white frosting piped into delicate flowers, with thin dark chocolate vines spread throughout, and flaked all over in almonds. According to the original recipe— you read off of the counter housing the mixer —each tier is a different flavor, with the bottom being a lemon cake with vanilla filling, the middle being a pistachio cake with Italian meringue, and the top being a rich chocolate cake with raspberry. Your manager was prepping to remake most parts the same for the new cake, but sub out the almonds and pistachios for flower notes and orange flavor.

You feel your belly rumble reading the recipes, but you brush it off and figure it’s begun the long digestion of all the treats it’s been stuffed with. You glance at the measly plastic tupperware your manager retrieved from storage and put to the side of the behemoth-cake, and recall that you had stopped bringing your own take-home plastic containers to work a long time ago, since you just ate it all while you were there anyway. But this, on such a full stomach already, is much too big, you tell yourself, averting your eyes to focus on wiping down counters and preheating the ovens. You can’t look away from the smell though. All around you wafts its sweet notes of almond-vanilla, its hints of dark chocolate, until finally, in a lull between tasks, it compels you to cut a slice.

You go for a piece from the very top, just a small slice as you anticipate it to be very dense, and oh how dense it is. The consistency is almost torte-like, chocolate that sits heavy in your mouth while being contrasted by the bright notes from the raspberry. Delighted instantly, you start wondering about how the others might taste, and go to cut two more small slices. Your manager smiles at you as they catch a glance of the plastic plate in your hand, and you feel your cheeks growing warm again.

The bite of pistachio is less sweet but earthy, with a nutty flavor profile, the texture of the cake so soft it practically melts in your mouth along with the meringue. The lemon cake melds the best with the almond exterior, and you find yourself slicing the ends of the frosting off to eat in tandem with the cake. Before you know it, you’ve breezed through all three slices, and it’s knocked the wind out of you. That’s enough now, you say to yourself as you pat your middle (even your thoughts are wheezing), don’t want to get a tummy ache on the job, though you are already halfway there.

——————

You try to push away the feeling that there’s a little more room in your stomach, reasoning that’s your sweet tooth talking. No time for that. You go back to your baking assistant duties, for a time, until you’re idling again because you’re waiting for the ingredients to mix, or your manager shooes you away, and you just can’t help yourself from taking another little slice.

Before you know it, you’ve finished the equivalent of the entire small tier. Most of it is gone anyhow, with a sizable dent made in the pistachio tier as well. You stifle a deep burp. Oof, your stomach rounds doubly over than normal, molding your now very tight apron into a bulbous swell. As your hands begin to follow the curve up and down for some relief, your manager calls you over again to help put the cake trays in the oven. You turn around and walk- no, waddle over, wondering how obviously your belly is leading the way.

“Okay, that should be ready in 20 minutes,” your manager says, dusting off their hands of flour and sugar. You find it hard to focus on anything but your belly; it was extra sensitive against the trays you held, waiting to place them into the oven. “How was the cake?” You are snapped out of your food-engorged trance by the sound of their voice.

“Oh, it was really good. Varied, it was all good but different,” you say, catching them glancing at you from an angle much lower than your face. They hum, amused by your compliment, and approach the cake.

“While we have time, I think I’ll try a slice. Do you want any more?” Their tone is completely neutral, as though they’re oblivious to a third of the cake being gone already. You open your mouth to respond but they’ve already turned back to the cake and cut the last two slices of the chocolate tier, setting aside one on another plate. “Just in case you want it. There’s so much, and I certainly can’t eat it all.”

You pick up the plate to be polite, picking your fork back up as well. As you watch them eat, they appear just as pleased as you were when trying the cake for the first time. “Not too shabby, I’d say. Sad that it’s a waste. Oh well.”

They finish their slice and open a nearby drawer in the counter, pulling out a large binder of cake designs and flipping to a marked page they point out to you. “I’m going to keep as much as I can from the original design, without nuts. I say we keep the chocolate, and maybe still have some texture on the outside, maybe coconut? Now we need to make the outer frosting as well as the inner icing.” Your manager goes over with you the ingredients for the different spreads and for the main icing. Nodding along, you somewhat-unconsciously bring bites of the cake to your mouth, since you’re holding it in your hand after all. Perhaps that had been a mistake, since when you begin to break away to locate the ingredients, you find that you’ve eaten the whole piece. As you set the plate down again, your manager asks over their shoulder, “Still hungry?”

Not in the slightest, you want to say, but a loud burp interjects first. You slam your hand over your mouth, your face flushed and hot, and surely red as a beet.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer through your fingers, while your manager gives a little laugh.

“That’s quite alright,” they say, a note of sweetness in their voice. “I take it you have more room now?”

Before you or your stomach can protest, you are handed another slice of lemon cake with a smile. “I’ve got this; you just keep eating.”

——————

You do keep eating, and while your manager takes the cakes out of the oven and mixes together icing, you find the room to finish three more slices before you start significantly slowing down.

“Ooh…” you grunt, resting your hands on your stomach as you tilt your head back.

“Something wrong?” your manager asks, looking over at you from the mixing bowls.

“I’m just..really full..”

Your manager emerges behind you, and firmly tugs on the strings at the back of your apron, pulling them loose. Immediately your belly surges forward, skin rippling from hitting the edge of the counter. It groans as you do, disgruntled from the sudden shock. But as shocking as that was, your manager then slides their hands over your sides, cups their hands under your stomach, and heaves it onto the counter. You’re just tall enough for it to remain there, and your belly is just big enough to be unable to slide off.

“That’s better, hm?” they ask softly. You groan, too full to think of anything but the drastic relief of being relinquished from the tightness of your apron. You keep groaning, as your manager’s hands knead away the sore ache in your sides, bringing up air bubbles. “I bet that feels good. Here’s what’s going to happen. I will decorate and assemble the new cake. You are going to eat the rest of this one before I am done, or you’re going to clean this kitchen top to bottom. Sound good?”

“Mmph…” You had, how many, 10, 11 slices already? Only halfway…

——————

Thankfully the decorating would take some time. You alternate between the remaining two tiers— pistachio, lemon, savory, sweet— while watching your manager pipe the delicate designs onto the replacement cake. Out of necessity, you find a rhythm in your eating. Chew. Swallow. Chew. Swallow. Burrp. Groan… Repeat.

Your sheer willpower gets you through 6 more slices. Time feels as though it’s slowed to a crawl. Your tummy demands at least one hand be constantly rubbing it. It remains resting on the counter, growing firmer with every bite.

You whimper as you hear your manager approaching behind you once more. Without a word, their hands appear by your taut belly again and they squeeze it suddenly inward. You gasp in between expelling forceful belches and low moans. But just as quickly as they arrived, the hands leave your sides. They whisper in your ear, “You’ve got more room now. So eat up, I’m almost done.”

——————

“Uuurrp….buoorrp….”

In between shoving cake into your mouth, you press your belly into the counter, forcing air back up your throat. In these crucial moments, every inch of your stomach capacity must be utilized to the fullest, and at this point, you’re desperate. You can’t even imagine summoning the energy needed to move your heavy belly off this counter, let alone cleaning anything.

Heaving and panting, you approach the final slice. You saved the pistachio for last as a palate cleanser. You glance to your manager, who is adding the final piping to the cake decor. They look like they could be finished at any moment. You grip your plastic fork with new purpose.

Your rhythm returns, as you thickly swallow each bite of cake. You’ve come this far, you can’t give up now! And you really don’t want to clean…thinking of that possibility makes you tired more than anything else, so you focus on chewing, the taste of the pistachio mixed with the icing. It would taste like heaven in any other scenario, but you’re not sure many people have tasted so much heaven in one sitting.

Your fork reaches for another bite before you realize the slice is finished, and the moment it clicks, as though on cue, your full, full stomach whines loud and long. Your hands weakly clutch at your huge belly— triple its normal size, aching, and so, so full.

“Ooohhhh….uUrp….oooohhh…” Your head swims, delirious almost, as your stomach uproariously churns.

Your manager’s hands soon join yours in gently rubbing away the ache, and you melt into their touch.

“Well done,” they say in your ear. “Your capacity is extraordinary. Perhaps you’ll help me tomorrow with inventory?” You’re the fullest you’ve ever been, you can’t respond to their innocuous question with anymore than groans and burps, but some small part of you can’t help but fantasize about filling your belly up even bigger with your next meal.

[wildthinginthewoods]

Your belly bulges obscenely in front of you, the upper curve of it tight and shiny. A dozen huge donuts churn inside your stomach, already stretched beyond its limit. Thick jelly oozes over your lips as I press another into your mouth, forcing it to open wider and wider. You moan around the heavy pastry as you force yourself to swallow. Angry growls erupt across your swollen stomach as it’s forced to take more, skin struggling to stretch, pressure building. You’re too full, too tight, too stuffed. When your mouth is free, which is rare, you beg me to stop. Your stomach hurts; you’re too full to eat anymore. You whine that nothing else will fit, but I can still see your hard belly push outwards with each bite. Your eyes roll back and you pant and whimper as I press my fingers into your gut, digging in to feel the ballooning stomach beneath. There is still give. Still room to grow. I do not plan to stop until you are filled like the next donut I force past your lips. Plump, sweet, round. Jelly stuffed.

[vvitchy-feedress-deactivated202]

Consider: Being so fat yet so utterly gluttonous that your upper stomach is bulging and rock hard constantly, while the rest of your enormous frame wobbles and bounces around it.

Yes I'm feral for stuffed upper gut, flabby but full lower gut today, ok?

Bonus points for uncontrollable belching and having to gently press the fattest part of your belly to help coax them out because you're just too big and stuffed to do so otherwise because that's rearing its head *majorly* today

[420faggyactivities69]

Okay I can't find it but there was this one post about someone secretly feeding you in your sleep and it's honestly all I've been thinking about for the past couple of days

Just imagine having someone who lives with you, a partner or even just a roommate, showing a funnel in your mouth every night while you sleep and just pumping you full of some fattening substance, maybe they'd put something in it to make you sleep hard so you don't wake up.

Over the course of the night you'd have thousands of calories pumped into you, stretching out your stomach to make sure that next time you can handle even more. Every morning you'd wake up swollen and bloated, confused as to why that is, because you haven't eaten since dinner, right? You'd brush it off and go get a breakfast anyway because it's the most important meal of the day after all, you can't miss it. And you'd go about your day as normal, eating and snacking as you always would.

That's why it'd surprise you when one day you'd find it impossible to button your pants. You'd admit that you have gained weight and try to work it off, watching what you eat, exercise, all of that.... But you wouldn't know that a certain someone is feeding you a week's worth of calories just in one night.

You'd furiously try to loose the weight, but it would just keep piling on. What once was a small pudgy belly has grown into a big soft wobbling gut. Every part of you would be covered in lard and none of your clothes would fit you anymore.

After some time you'd just give up, if you can't loose the weight no matter what you do then what's the point of dieting. So you'd give into your hedonistic urges and eat whatever your belly desires. Except your stomach would be so stretched out by that point that you just can't feel satisfied unless you gorge like a feral starved animal.

Maybe one day you'd find the funnel that was used on you all this time and instead of questioning it, you'd immediately use it yourself.

And maybe the person who was behind this the whole time would end up catching you with the funnel, while you're guzzling down pure slop and playing with your massive jiggling belly

[pudgylittlepuppy]

all day public food market stuffing with my feeder friend :3

i got told to drink a litre of soda and a pint of ice cream beforehand, and they also said i had to wear the tightest jeans in my wardrobe and a crop top >w<

i arrived already bloated and gassy and i was a little embarrassed at wearing such a revealing outfit and i caught multiple people staring at me on the way there lol

i had to eat one plate from every vendor which meant 12 full plates, but i ended up having 15 because the loaded mac and cheese was so good i needed to have seconds, another of the plates came with a side and the last place we tried had an extra dessert menu so i had to try that too

i ended up having to unbutton my jeans because they were so tight i couldn’t rlly breathe and i needed room for more food, luckily most people didn’t seem to notice because we were sitting at our own bench in the corner, but one person walked past us to get to the bathrooms and they DEFINITELY stared at my gut hanging out my jeans, i’ve never had anyone see me like this in public and i nearly died it was so hot

i thought i’d avoided a wardrobe malfunction but when i finished my 12th plate my boxers split down the crotch 😵‍💫

my friend made me go to the bathroom and record a video so they could see the damage

by the final plates i was belching so much that i kept asking if we could go outside to finish the food there because it was so embarrassing, but my friend said we had to stay until i’d eaten everything in front of me

i had to keep sitting further and further back because my gut was pressing into the table and my shirt couldn’t cover even half of my belly so everything was hanging out

after i’d finished i felt a bit sick so i had to sit in the bathroom for a while and it kinda sucked, but once the nausea passed i started getting rlly horny again so i touched my tdick a bit in the stall and let some massive burps out so i could get ready to walk to my friends place

i wore their hoodie on the way home bc i was far too embarrassed to walk around looking like that lol

when we got home we measured my belly, it’s usually 43 inches when empty but now it was over 51 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

this was the part that made me feral and my friend couldn’t wait any longer so they fucked me and slapped my gut the whole time and called me an overfed pig every time i burped and they forced me to admit out loud that i’m a massive hog and i came

i napped for hours on their bed because i was so full it was nearly agony and i was genuinely getting heart palpitations and struggling to breathe

that was the first time i’ve ever felt like i never wanted to eat again lol, i usually wake up and get hungry again but i still felt so enormous that the idea of eating made my feel sick, so when i woke up my friend just played with my belly and my pussy until i came again (twice) and they wouldn’t let me cum the second time until i did a big burp for them >w<

i’ve never felt so genuinely worried about my health during a stuffing before, but everything tasted so so good, my friend said they’d never seen a feedee eat like that before and they said they’re going to make me immobile…………..

[ifyougiveapigapancake]

I want my belly to be ROUND!! I want somebody to sit me in their lap and feed me. Help me eat as much food as possible while I wear a little baby tee and a pair of jeans I'll have to unbutton. Watch my belly bulge outwards, getting tighter with every bite. I want the shirt to ride up, my whole tummy plopped out. Fill me more, tell me how good I am for eating everything. I'll wash everything down with two liters of soda and finish with a string of huge belches. Rub my belly for me after, it'll be so achey and full. I want to be so stuffed to the point where I burp every time I move. I want my belly filled with gas just pushing it out further, waiting to erupt from my mouth. I want to be dazed and sleepy from how much food is in my belly, the feeling of your hands so soft on my skin.

I want to burp and burp and burp, just carelessly. Hiccuping and belching, my eyes heavy and tired from how hard my body is working to digest everything.

[depravity-disposed]

Digestion so active that it visibly makes the stomach ripple. UUUUUNF~ <3

[acantha-j-roberts]

The thing in stuffings (mainly animations) that makes me weak is the loud and/or painful belly gurgle before a burp. That shit is just next level 🤤

[readyplayerziggy]

Strained, uncomfortable burps pushed out from grossly overstuffed tummies struggling to turn the multi-restaurant slop of foodstuffs crammed into to chyme.

[orb-ponders]

constant grazing/stuffing thoughts but it's.

your belly is constantly working. constantly full and digesting all the food you give it. your intestines are constantly working, sapping nutrition from your food to absorb into your body. constantly churning that last meal you had. constantly in a state of turning extra energy into fat.

[bellyenby]

how do you do a cake shake bloat? is there a method you use? im curious to try one soon. also how does it feel for you? i heard it lasts a long time. thanks! ❤️

cake shakes are the best and they’re really easy to make! I use chocolate cake mix (people usually recommend the Super Moist Betty Crocker brand, but anything with leavener / baking soda will work) and I blend it with milk to get a thinner consistency I can drink fast. I also add things like coffee, chocolate syrup, ice cream, or heavy cream depending on what I’m trying to get out of the shake that time. these are already pretty high calorie, so they make good gainer shakes 🤭

basic recipe for a beginner might be 1/4 box of cake mix + 2 cups milk. I’ve managed 1/2 box of cake mix + 4 cups add ons in the past, and some people can do a whole box + a quart of milk (not me lol). you drink it fast, then follow with 1/2-1L~ of water either 15~ minutes after (for a fast/stomach bloat) or 1+ hour later (for more centralized bloat)

cake shakes can bloat you multiple times, both from the water reacting with the baking soda and about 7-8 hours later when the leavener reacts during digestion. it feels heavy/dense when you first drink it, but later on it just feels like being comfortably massive with room to keep eating. both bloats are reactionary and are decently large ‘bursts’ of expansion, and after drinking the shake it can lead to increased appetite. I always stuff on top of a cake shake, and you’ll get the largest, longest lasting bloat if you do it that way! they can last 12-48 hours depending on how big the shake is and if you stuff after

the first few times I tried cake shakes, I found the taste, consistency, and texture were very hard to swallow. make sure it’s not a super thick mixture, and if the taste bothers you, add coffee or chocolate syrup to mask the flavor. I use a wide straw so I can drink them fast and barely taste anything