i had the opportunity to commission a piece of kink art from the extremely talented canarcist on devianart, and i'm super excited to share the final result with all of you!!
here is their rendition of ashley/flexsteel!!
the scene that they've depicted comes from my flexsteel series on ao3, which you can read here if you'd like!!
working with canarcist was a very pleasant and satisfying experience, so i highly recommend commissioning them if you ever get a chance!!
imagine a king keeping himself surrounded by potbellied women and staring at, catering to, and rubbing their bellies as he pleases. every night he picks one to use as a belly pillow while he sleeps and listens to their digestion and tenderly kisses that soft tummy pillow. the women are well fed and enjoy being loved on and admired by their king. whoever burps the most after a meal gets special attention too as he rubs and pats their viscerally fat bellies and makes sure their tummies don't ache from all the rich, heavy, expensive, delicious food the king provides them with. if more than one of them gets a burbling tummy that he needs to be relieved with burps after a meal, he calls in his servants to place the women on their laps and rub their potbellies too. the king laughs when the women belch in his servants' faces.
incredible comm i bought from the lovely cchilab over on piczel !!
burpkura my sweetie,, i liek the millenium ring's eye tearing up. I'd say this is a much better (and sexier) fate than ending up in the shadow realm! at least you'll be remembered, as pudge on kura's tummy and a few hours worth of nasty belches :>
okay I know this is not what anyone wants to see while they’re on their horny account but we seriously need to have a conversation about how to recognize underage blogs because I’m getting real concerned about the number of people I’ve been seeing the past couple days seemingly unknowingly interacting with blogs that are full of coded messages about how the user running them is a minor advertising CSAM
if they have “18” in quotation marks, they’re a minor. If they talk about a favorite number, a 2-digit number that ends in 1 with a 🔁 emoji (like 61🔁 meaning 16), or a number of plushies they have on their bed, they’re a minor and that number is their real age. If they’re posting in tags with censored versions of “map”, “pred”, “underage”, “jailbait”, etc., they’re a minor. please be careful about who you’re interacting with.
Rook rolled up his measuring tape, and looked down at you with fond reverence. "How lucky I am," he purred, more to himself than to you, as he scooped you up in one hand. "You are, without a doubt, a marvel of the natural world, and I have the overwhelming pleasure of observing you myself."
Plump and round as you were, you did not flop over Rook's palm; you even rolled gently, your wings squeaking against the leather of his glove. He had utterly immobilized you with a tiny drop from a glass vials.
After he had caught you, Rook had gone through the trouble of casting a translation spell, introducing himself to you, and wheedling you for tales about pixie life and society. Nonetheless, in this moment, after he had done his wicked art to puff you up as far as your fae skin could stretch, you were clearly nothing but a body in Rook's eyes.
Fingers caressing your bulging side, Rook picked his camera back up with his free hand, and snapped another picture of you. "I'll capture another once I estimate the deflation process is halfway complete," he said, and smiled. "I expect I'll estimate accurately. Another run of the tape measure around you wouldn't hurt a soul, non?"
You sighed as deeply as you could, pressurized insides constricting your lungs. "You're gonna kidnap another pixie before you even let me go? Who even are you?"
Rook blinked at you, eyebrows raised. "Hm?"
"You just said you were gonna capture another," you said.
"Oh, I meant another photograph!" Rook chimed, squeezing you in both hands and rubbing you back and forth in manifest delight. "You are my one and only object of study for the day."
As Rook placed you back upon the towel-lined tray he had confined you to, it felt like your organs slowly sunk back into place after his assault. Your body was almost spherical, save for your wings, which could only twitch, powerless to lift you into the air.
"What did you fill me with, anyway?" you hesitantly asked. "And–And how am I gonna get back to normal?"
If Rook's alchemical workings had generated air or any other light gas inside you, you would still be able to fly. If it were liquid or solid, you would feel heavier than the largest pixie alive, all for the dense mass packed within you.
Instead, after Rook's massive fingertip had traced his potion drop's path down your throat into your belly, a sluggish weight had slowly come over you, thicker than air.
Rook chuckled deeply. "I believe you've seen the product of the chemical reaction yourself," he said. "Remember when you were just beginning to inflate, and you belched out a little puff of shimmering, violet-colored mist? The substance that lends you this spectacularly rotund shape is that same magical aether. An exhilirating thought, isn't it? I would try it myself, only the flexibility of the human body has certain intransigent upper limits..." Face falling, he pinched your belly, making you gasp. He pulled up on the tight-stretched skin, hard, nearly picking you up by the front of your middle.
You couldn't help it; a whimper broke out of you.
"Ah, désolé," said Rook, and he smiled again. "I'm merely eager to experience the marvels of such a creature as yourself." Then, without warning or permission, Rook let you go, before playfully poking you with two fingers.
Your body squished around his fingertips; you felt dizzy; your stomach whined. The deepest belch you had ever heard from your own mouth popped out of you.
Rook's whole body gave a jolt in delight; he grinned, letting your tummy spring back up, before he pinched you again, squeezing your sides inward.
You could not help but belch again. A ribbonlike plume of the purple aether trailed from your mouth, bearing the taste of the potion Rook had dripped into you, cold and slightly bitter.
"'Scuse me," you said, though you did not mean it.
"No need," cooed Rook. "Such fascinating little sounds..."
"Do humans not burp?" you said, wings twitching in annoyance beneath you. You knew the answer to this question, had overheard a human burp before, the exact same way your fairy kinfolk did after a hearty feast.
"We do," Rook answered. "Only, we are much larger. The acoustics of our bodies are different. You are so small, and yet..." His voice had slipped into a dreamy drawl within the short space of his last sentence. Still smiling blissfully down at you, he pressed on your belly again.
He was obliging you to burp. With all the gas in your stomach, you granted his tacit request with a short, creamy thing, a puff of sparkling purple rising before your eyes, then slipping down over your body and dispersing like fog.
"Indeed, the sound has such resonance!" Rook raised you close to his face, so that you could see the texture of the mascara on his lashes and feel the airflow as a silent laugh left his nostrils. "The secrets of the fae truly have no end."
You hiccuped as he swung you down, and before you knew it, he was pressing you against his heart, squeezing you hard in both hands.
Springy mass constricted between his fingers and chest; another burp began rushing out of you, weightier than was normal or comfortable, spewing potion-flavored air up into your mouth. With your face pressed against the lapel of his labcoat, you couldn't let it out; your cheeks puffed up until you turned your head away, skin giving an audible creak, and expelled the thick mist in one long, groaning belch.
Rook squealed. "I heard that sound echo through my bones!" he said, lifting you up to his face again. He was still grinning. One hand smoothed up his chest, but something stopped him, and he looked down.
You followed his gaze.
On his lapel, there was a smear of purple. Some of the aether had not dissipated. You kept your mouth shut, refusing to apologize. Rook had squeezed the stuff out of you with his own two hands.
"Ah," he sighed, "I regret so dearly that I'll have to wash this off, ma fée."
"Why?"
"I'd love to tell all my dear classmates that a pixie burped in this exact spot."
You looked up at Rook, frowning, then away again. "You know perfectly well that if I or the average pixie burped on your clothes, it wouldn't look like that. So, you'd also have to explain to your classmates that you filled me up like this." Were all humans this cruel? Would the others Rook mentioned merely congratulate him, or would they think he was as strange as you did?
Rook hummed dreamily. "Perhaps it would be worth revealing this escapade to them," he mused. "Or perhaps not. I will have to wash this coat before tomorrow morning."
Gently, with none of his ferocity from just a moment ago, Rook set you back down upon the tray.
"Our adventure in experimentation might stay confined to my photographs and notes," he sighed.
You could move a tiny bit more now; you could flail a degree forward and start to flutter your wings.
Rook had whipped his camera out and snapped a picture before you met any measure of success, and somehow, the click of the machine made you give up, and flop back down supine.
"Does that mean this is half over?" you whined. "You said you'd take your next picture when—"
"Oh, no," said Rook, setting his camera down and gently rolling you side to side. "I merely acted on a whim." He beamed at you, sincerity shining through his thin lips and narrowed eyes. "You'll forgive me, won't you?"
overfeeding your pet fairy until her belly is wobbly and jiggly and fun to squish so you have a stress ball that burps when you squeeze it. her burps seem almost too loud and rumbly to be coming from such a tiny thing. and she’s so embarrassed, blushing and squeaking ‘excuse me’ every time
Hey guys 🤍 My art style has changed a little since (so feel free to check out my latest works), but my commission prices are still the same.
Due to a flea infestation, i have to stay in my apartment for 15 days without seeing anyone. i am unfortunately the kind of person who thrives on social interaction so being isolated is pretty hard for me.
Even tho I'm working on a queer webcomic right now, I'm still having a hard time keeping myself busy.
(Any commission would also help me cover the cost of the exterminator and pay my father back for helping with it)
🥩Feel free to share♡
I'm also 100% open to art trades, and open to meet people to chat with (about shared interests/OCs/kinks, etc) or even do some roleplay🦭
Friendly reminder to check my info before interacting and to respect my boundaries. Thank you💥
Okay you all know by now that my stomach works scary fast once she actually gets going but here's another fun thing about that
Digesting a person's worth of meat releases a lot of gas, right? And if it's happening fast enough and it's getting trapped then an observer might not notice much of a change in the size of my belly even as the prey inside expires and slurries down into my bowels
Until I belch, and my gut shrinks all at once by a quarter or even a half of her size
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