#aching-tummies

[aching-tummies]

RP-Starter “That doesn’t sound good...want me to rub your tummy?”

Inspired by the line above...

"Mmmph...ouch...ugh..." I pat my stomach a few times, dislodging a pitifully small puff of air that brings little-to-no relief. My stomach is stewing, livid at the twice-reheated leftovers I polished off after an exhausting shift. A sickly burble rises, clearly audible in the silence of the bedroom.

Unnngh...shut up! It was either finish the packed lunch or go hungry--you'd be just as angry if I threw out the remainder of the (once) food and got into bed without eating anything. Lousy, useless stomach. I worked all day and I ate something--now do your damned job and digest it!

I curl my hand into a fist and slam it down on my misbehaving belly. The impact causes a sharp cramp in my angry guts and I curl around the new pain, still mentally cussing out my distressed innards for not fulfilling their function. My stomach continues to burble and whine as I squeeze the hybrid of hunger and indigestion. The leftovers from my lunch were barely enough for four mouthfuls of food--clearly not enough to fill a hungry tummy after more than seven hours without eating anything (lunch break happened early on in my shift because the only employee that could cover breaks demanded to be off by 1PM).  

Something sour rises up my esophagus and I frantically swallow it back down. I'm exhausted--too tired to get up and locate a proper receptacle for vomit. There's no way I'm going to let myself spew on my sheets. Nope. Throwing up here means I'll have to strip the soiled sheets and wash them...even if I don't bother with re-making the bed, the act of stripping and washing the sheets sounds far too daunting for someone that's too exhausted to sit up and dive for the wastebasket that's somewhere in the room. My stomach lets out an indignant burble, unhappy at the sick that was returned to it. Hunger rumbles ominously, quickly interrupted by another indignant sound of indigestion.

Fuck off! Hungry or upset? You can't be both. I punctuate this thought with yet another fist to my gut. The resulting sickly snarl goes ignored as I'm too exhausted to bother reacting anymore. I continue to swallow, to try and get the sour feeling out of the back of my throat.

"Whoa! That didn't sound good." I peek at the door to my bedroom, arm covering my eyes. You're leaning casually against the doorframe, having been lured to my room by the sound of a distressed tummy. "Want me to rub your tummy?"

"I--" I'm cut off by a loud, liquidy rumble that booms out of my gut. I curl up, swallowing desperately and considering the benefits of stripping a pillowcase to act as a makeshift receptacle. "Ooh...o-oh..." I can't help but moan even as I swallow compulsively. It hurts. My entire digestive tract seems to be rebelling, trying to purge the nasty mess I swallowed...only...no part of my guts appears to be in agreement about what direction to purge the mess from. My intestines are intent on sending the mess upward while my stomach pushes right back, refusing to accept what it had so gleefully passed onto the intestines. The lower part of my esophagus seems to desperately want stuff to exit the way it went in, but my throat and my head are equally desperate to keep the gorge down.

"Aww...poor tummy. So upset..." You've wandered into the room and the turbulance from you sitting down on the edge of the bed is not doing my stomach any favors. It lets out a low snarling noise, like a dog grumbling as it gears up to bite at something annoying.

You slide a hand over my noisy belly, setting off more upset noises and cramps.

"MmPH--" I swallow against a burp that fights hard to get out. The two forces cancel out, leaving me very uncomfortable and adding to the ire brewing within me. With every movement of your palm, you draw an unwitting moan or other sound out of my lips. We manage to work up a few burps that are thankfully just burps, but they are pitiful and cautious because of the many times something hot and sour was forced up with the air.

It's going to be a long night. A long, uncomfortable night to see which wins the war in my belly: hunger or indigestion? All I know is that a war is raging and the state of my tummy is in the balance--what say you to giving it a little push? Which side are you going to root for?

[aching-tummies]

RP-Scenario: Too Much Dairy

RP-Scenario 'cuz my guts have literally been waging war on dairy all day. Write me a continuation--how would you continue this? Bear in mind that I'm partial to being a total sadist to a misbehaving tummy. I'm having trouble envisioning dialogue for this scenario so if you want to throw in dialogue lines or just submit RP-Lite that'd be fine too. Inspire me.

"Mmmffph...ugh...aaahh...s-stop...tummy...please stop...stop hurting..." I whimper and plead with my stubborn stomach as it clenches within me, twisting painfully and making me feel like something has wound my intestines up like one would twirl spaghetti on a fork. I've been curled up like a shrimp in bed for the better part of the last five hours. Apparently, my guts decided that we hate dairy today. Would have been nice to get a memo.

We stayed up last night. Secret-identity and social deduction games are my favorite and our friends decided to stay up last night to play a few rounds. We started around 10:30PM and I saw 4:31AM on the clock when we finally said our final 'gg's. Poor choice, but I decided it'd be fine as long as I grabbed coffee before my shift at work was due to start in about 6 hours. Not the best, but I promised to go to bed early tonight to make up for it.

A baptism of iced coffee probably wasn't how my stomach wanted to be woken up this morning and I guess it's been grumpy with me ever since. On top of that, when I arrived at work it turns out my coworker had decided to buy me an extral large hot coffee as 'thanks' for something I did for them before. It would have been rude to turn it down so I accepted it and alternated between the hot coffee and the iced one throughout my shift. The variance in temperatures and dairy did not play nice with my already-grumpy tummy, it seems. It was starting to feel uneasy around the last hour of my shift.

I walked by a bubble-tea place on my way to the bus stop and saw that they were having a special series on milk-tea. I got paid a couple of days ago and it's been a long and hard week at work (training new hires) so I decided to treat myself. I got a little something for you too, asking for no ice in case you're not home to drink it immediately when I get there (and therefore it won't dilute).

Upon arriving home, I found out that I was not the only one that bought a treat for the other. You stopped by our favorite noodle house and got us two combos...combos that come with more milk-tea. Unfortunately, the ice in your drinks is fading fast, so we have to enjoy them tonight. The other half of my own drink was left as an afterthought as we powered through dinner.

After dinner, you decided to hop back on the computer to game and do whatever. I mentioned turning in early and that's basically what I tried to do...only I realized that I still had half of my own drink to finish and boba gets hard if you leave it too long...so...well...down the hatch.

The glutinous boba was delicious. Unfortunately, that firm-ish, slimey gel ended up gumming up the works inside of the war raging in my guts. 'We hate dairy. We hate dairy.' I swear the grumbles from my guts are chanting that on a loop. I wouldn't be surprised if digestive fairies manifested and are inside, using spells to make my stomach contents churn and prodding absolutely everything with tiny pitchforks.

Iced coffee. Hot coffee. Boba milk tea. Straight up milk tea. My dairy count is at four--more than double what I'd planned. The sheer amount of dairy would have been enough to give me some nasty indigestion, but the greasy noodle combo and the boba are compounding the upset. It feels like the boba is gumming up my intestines, coating them and preventing them from working on the oily slurry of noodles and dairy. My guts are cramping like a vice every couple of minutes, desperately trying to make digestion happen and having no success.

I don't feel nauseous. All of this didn't come at me all at once--it was gradual. There isn't enough in any one part of my gastro-intestinal tract to cause me to be on the verge of puking...unless the toxic slurry decides to move backwards (which it hasn't yet...thank God). Pity. Throwing up might have made me feel just a little better. Getting some of that nastiness out of my system would probably help at least a little. Instead, I just feel like tiny grenades are exploding throughout my gastrointestinal tract. I swear, everything hurts, from my colon spasming (despite not having anything to offer the porcelain throne) to my esophagus burning with heartburn or an acid splash...or both. On top of it all, my stomach-organ and intestines have been churning away, being extremely vocal about the day-long torture inflicted upon them now that I've finally got a minute to actually be mindful of the sensations inside of me.

"Ugh...stop...please stop hurting!" I plead with my stomach, squeezing it tighter and trying to counter the vice-like cramp rolling like a wave through my intestines. I swear, it feels like a giant decided to pinch a section of my intestines between thumb and forefinger and run that squeeze through the entire length of the tube...like trying to squeeze the last dregs of toothpaste out of a tube or getting sauce out of a packet.

I spy my phone on the mattress--abandoned when the cramps in my tummy got too intense for me to ignore any longer. Reaching for it, I find the contact I'm looking for and hit 'Call'. I'm wracked by an intense cramp that feels like I'm being pinched in half and it causes me to press the phone into my spasming tummy instead of bringing it to my ear.

*Grbl...rrrr...rrrble...* My stomach sounds like a motor-cycle at a stop-light, contantly revving without getting anywhere.

The call gets disconnected and I've forgotten all about it, going back to begging my stomach to calm down and having my tears soak into the pillow. "Unngh...d-damn it--shut up!" I hiss at my stomach and slam a fist down onto it for good measure. Instant regret shoots through me along with the stabbing pain I feel from the impact site.

"You say something?"

You lean against the doorframe to the bedroom, curious as to where I've been since dinner. Your phone is held in one hand. Apparently, you got my call.

"Uhh..." A loud rumble from my stomach answers before I do. The sickly noise is quickly followed by another sharp spasm and I moan, curling even tighter around my aching abdomen.

"Was that your stomach?"

I see white for a moment, my hearing fading too as my entire world dissolves into the pain at my core. I can feel everything tensing up from colon to esophagus. I can't imagine literally having my guts rupture would feel much worse than what it feels like right now.

As I regain my senses, I feel a foreign weight on my aching tummy. You're stroking over it carefully, the foreign weight being your ear pressed against the crest of my gut.

"Mmmph..." I wince as I feel another spasm ripple through my intestines.

"Shh!" You shush me, wanting to listen to the chaos inside of me rather than me.

I don't even know what I can say at this point. "My stomach hurts"--no duh. "Please rub my tummy"--clearly, my stomach needs more help than I can give it to win whatever war is raging within me. "My tummy's really noisy and upset--something isn't agreeing with me"--thanks, Captain Obvious. On top of that, it appears that my stomach is complaining more than enough even without the involuntary moans and whimpers escaping my voicebox.

[aching-tummies]

The second we leave the restaurant, I'd have my hand around your waist, glued to your broth-filled belly. I put it together before you. When I realized you were intent on finishing the broth, I did the math: volume of food vs. your small capacity. As we walk, I'd be intentionally pushing on it, delighting every time you swallow back something wet. It'd be a miracle if we got you to the stop without you spewing on the sidewalk somewhere.

I was never good at math ^^ So I guess we saw the variables, bowl + stomach and arrived at different answers.

Honestly, my stomach was throbbing when I was about 90% through with the food. I refused to waste good broth though, so down the hatch! I knew I'd bitten off more than I could chew when I saw that look in your eyes.

To onlookers, we're just a run o' the mill couple engaging in some casual PDA as we stroll through the commercial district. You've got your arm around my waist, keeping it above my hip (corutesy/modesty points for you). Nobody would look twice at us. Nobody would ever suspect what's really going on.

The second we step off of the curb, crossing the first of four intersections between us and the right bus stop, my stomach sloshes audibly. You had just been keeping your palm pressed gently to my stomach, but the sudden convulsion and the noticeable 'slosh' awoke something inside of you. My grunt of discomfort being cut off by a wet hiccup definitely didn't help matters either.

You keep me upright. To onlookers, it'd appear that I stumbled and you were kind enough to keep me from eating pavement. What's really happening though is that my body twitched, trying to curl around my tight, sloshy tummy--trying to calm the turbulence of my straining gut. You used the movement to subtly press harder against my tummy, trapping me against your side and intentionally jostling my stomach. You can feel the firm, but not hard curve of my stomach-organ under your palm. You squeeze it, delighting in the wet burp and hiss it draws from my throat as I bat at your arm. You pretty much carry me across the intersection, my feet barely skimming the pavement as you resolutely march across to the other curb, most of my weight suspended on your arm, putting even more pressure on my bloated gut. It's all I can do to focus on keeping my meal inside of me--still stubbornly refusing to waste that broth.

"Ugh...quit it!" I hiss at you as we get onto the new curb. You squeeze my belly with your strong fingers, effectively shutting me up as I bite my tongue to avoid spewing here and now.

We continue our journey to the bus stop like so, with me dreading the other intersections. I spy a bench for another bus stop before us. This one marks the halfway point. The bus to our place only stops at the far end of the commercial district…so the one up ahead won't get us where we need to go. I long to sit on that bench, to recline and to give my straining tummy some much-needed TLC. You're doing your best impression of a locked seatbelt, so I doubt I'll get my wish. Any slack given by our jostling movements is eaten up by your arm squeezing me even tighter, your fingers digging deeply into my gut. You occasionally seem to drum your fingers--flexing them into the squishy firmness that is my gut.

Suddenly, I find myself longing for the trash bin next to the bench rather than the bench itself. If you keep this up, you're going to have to buy me another meal before we leave the commercial district 'cuz I'm 100% blaming you if I lose it before we get on the bus.

[aching-tummies]

RP-Scenario: Drowned Upset

Phew! Finished a week from hell and decided to treat myself.

I stumbled upon a new (to me) Vietnamese place on my way home today and decided to indulge. It's chilly out so Pho sounded lovely...and I still remember when the broth seemed to magically cure a tummy upset a couple of years back...so I wandered in hoping for the same kind of magic. Thanks to the 0.1 coworker, we've all been stressed to the nines for at least three weeks.

The container I bring my packed lunch to work in holds 500mL of liquid. It's pretty small considering I'm out of the house between 9AM and 9PM and that 500mL + a breakfast sandwich I buy from wherever is all I eat in those 12 hours (not including drinks). Anyway...I switched to this smaller container because in University I used to eat half-meals...I'd eat half of my food at one point and the other half two hours later (i.e. a foot long sandwich would be split into 2 sessions of 6 inches each). I did this because eating until 'full' or beyond would basically guarantee I'd get a tummy ache within an hour of eating...so I chose to eat just enough to stop feeling hungry each time. Ever since entering the workforce, I'm of the same mindset, so I switched to the 500mL container rather than my larger 700-900mL container. Before 0.1 started working with me, I used to finish my whole lunch and clean the container before returning to work (with time to spare--I set a timer on my phone when I go on break to ensure I don't go over and I get what I'm entitled to). Ever since 0.1 did fuck-all and let tasks snowball, the rest of us have been cutting our breaks short because the idea of the backlog of tasks is ridiculous and terrifies us all. Yes...it shouldn't be my responsibility when I'm on break...but I'm the one customers yell at and throw their half-eaten food at when there is no Ranch dressing ready to serve or when the soup isn't hot enough to their liking (yes, I have had food thrown on me by unreasonable customers). So...for the last week I've been taking half-breaks...and only scarfing down maybe 300mL of my lunch before returning to work to chip away at the backlog 0.1 created. I bring the other 200mL home and eat that after 9PM when I go home because I'm hungry...unfortunately, twice-reheated food is nasty...so I end up going to bed still hungry and with a very upset tummy trying to purge the nasty twice-reheated stuff.

I'm looking at 2 days off after today so I treated myself to pho. It's 3.5 hours since I finished and I'm still full. My stomach literally sloshes when I move. The place had a normal portion of noodles, not a lot of meat, but almost double the amount of broth anywhere else would put in there...and I ate it ALL (along with a few spring rolls). I was so, so full--it felt like I was lugging around a water balloon when I headed for the bus stop to go home. There was no room for anything to slosh at that point...but 3.5 hours the watery symphony is in full swing inside of me.

The stress-induced upset from being frustrated at 0.1 is still lurking in my guts...but I like to imagine that upset is being drowned under over a liter of hot broth and the watery gurgles are the screams of the weeks-long indigestion I've been lugging around since 0.1 started messing around on my shifts.

2 days off. Something warm and filling in my tummy, plus multiple mugs of steaming tea I’ve just downed upon arriving home. Inspire me. Let's have some fun ^^

[aching-tummies]

Senpai Noticed Me...

So...I love all of my followers. The ones that interact, the ones that quietly enjoy stuff. I have amazing followers here that respect the “leave me out of drama, I’m just here for tums” rule and I love you all for that. Thank you!

All that being said, @boytumms has literally been my go-to for this interest since their other blog and before I made this one. I was always just a quiet fan (I was 18+ then too--major mental block against doing anything I might possibly be scolded for so I legit never ventured into anything with age restrictions until I was older than 18). So...yeah...having a major ‘senpai noticed me’ moment here. Don’t mind me...I’m just going to quietly die of feeling accomplished over here...

[aching-tummies]

What kind of body-type are you? I'd like to submit an RP-ask…but I don't want to accidentally offend if I describe you as bigger than you are or something.

Thank you for being so considerate!

I'm not offended, more just generally put off when I see things that talk about me like I'm really overweight. Fastest way to pull me out of the mood is to talk fat and such or use the kinds of pet names mostly seen in WG.

My stomach isn't flat or toned, but it doesn't have any defined "rolls" either. I wear my pants high , but even if they slip below my stomach there's not enough there to qualify as a proper 'muffin-top' (also depends on what size pants I'm wearing that day, I guess). I'm not considered skinny and never have been. but I'm not obese in appearance either. I've got a bigger bone structure than most of the women around me--longer shoulder span, wider ribcage, taller, etc. Basically…I'm bigger than what's expected of women around here--but everything has been scaled-up.

[aching-tummies]

Do you have any DNIs? Haven't seen any listed.

I assume "DNI" means "Do Not Interact" in this circumstance (putting this up there for anyone unfamiliar with the acronym).

No, I don't have a specific list of DNIs posted anywhere. I block on a case-by-case basis and it shouldn't come as a surprise to the person I block if it happens (it's pretty rare).

I have opinions on DNIs and their effectiveness which I won't put here because that is a much, much longer conversation.

[boytumms]

Yo! It's deskboy-anon here. I'm honoured you like what I came up with. I just resent parts 2 and 4. Up to part 5 is currently all I have. If you don't receive them via askbox, would it be alright if I sent those parts to you in a message? Not "out" on my main so it'd be from a sideblog...but sides don't get to ask off-anon.

Just woke up and saw your reblog/add-on to my post! Just wanna say I love your writing and I was so exited to see it was you who was the deskboy anon haha XD