Dialogue prompts- two friends/lovers/what have you are meeting up again after being apart for some time. Character B has gained some weight, which appeals to Character A. They decide to compliment or tease them as follows.
“Wow, someone’s getting big.”
“You’ve really been filling out, haven’t you?”
“I see you’ve been eating well.”
“Hey, you’re putting on weight! Looks good on you.”
“That sweater looks more snug on you than it used to.”
day 3 of feedist kinktober featuring some art and a snippet of writing (prompt: creepy cookies!)
he’s pissed off because the magical cookies that grow a pumpkin in your belly do exactly the thing he was told they do
“Just for the record,” said Cade, scowling at Lola from his daybed, “I blame you for this.”
“Is that so? Because I seem to remember telling you, verbatim, ‘by the way, the jack-o-lantern cookies grow a pumpkin inside you’. You were the one who heard that and ate them anyway.”
“If it had been one of those little pumpkins, like I was expecting, I wouldn’t be so mad. Look at me!” Cade rocked himself forward in an attempt to get up, but was predictably hindered by his extremely round, heavy belly. He sighed and held out a hand wordlessly for them to help him up.
Lola could barely suppress a chuckle as she assisted him. “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty cute when you look like you’re a few months along with twins.”
Cade held his hands underneath the place where the pumpkin was weighing heaviest on him. “Oof. ‘A few months’ seems generous.”
“Well, I didn’t want to risk you getting grumpier by saying ‘past due’.” He covered his mouth, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, whoops.”
Cade scowled exaggeratedly in a way that Lola knew meant he was trying not to smile. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable to wait out the effect of this thing,” he said stiffly. He made his way out of the room, seemingly trying not to waddle and doing a very poor job at it.
Lola smiled as they watched him go. Part of them felt it was a shame his gut would return to its normal size after a few hours. But for now, at least, they would get to tease him and lavish affection on his sore, stretched stomach. They had a feeling that for all his complaining, Cade got a kick out of this sort of thing. At the very least, they knew he was very receptive to getting attention.
imagine a vampire feeding the person they plan to drink a huge, iron-rich meal to make sure their blood is all the tastier… tender meat and potatoes, fragrant and prepared-to-perfection vegetables, bread rolls fresh from the oven, and sweet, sticky strawberry tarts for dessert. after the last crumbs have been cleared away, their guest happy and sated, it’s time for the vampire to have their fill… and of course, it’s always good to eat a little something after you give blood as well
thinking about feeding a beautiful tall lady a nice big meal… rubbing her tummy as she gets fuller and fuller, telling her what a good job she’s doing, listening to her sigh in satisfaction as we settle down to cuddle. she’s well-fed and comfy, and her sleepy smile as she pats her round belly makes her absolutely irresistible
lately I’ve been thinking about aliens with rounded bellies from the clutch of eggs they’re pregnant with… whether they’re just starting to show with a little potbelly, swollen and heavy at full term, or somewhere in between, eggy aliens are so wonderful
an idea I had recently that seems appropriate for the season: skinny/slim character goes to their partner or friend’s family home for the holidays, only to be surprised when the family insists they take seconds- they’re practically wasting away, and plenty of food will help put some meat on those bones! to be polite, they don’t turn this down, even when they’re reaching their limit. the results: a packed, sore belly and a sympathetic friend doing what they can to help
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A KINK STORY. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.
A vampire hunter shows up at a party prepared to slay the vampire host, but finds it more difficult than expected.
(full disclosure: this story doesn’t focus on belly kink as much as my other stuff, but it’s still present. hope you enjoy anyway!)
“Bradley Givens is a librarian who works the night shift. He’s been described by people who know him as friendly, scholarly, and handsome. He also happens to be a vampire.”
Lloyd Brewer chewed his lip as he typed up the information his team would need for their little outing that night.
“Every few months, like every vampire, Bradley will get an irresistible craving for human blood. We know this because he’s been posting online for a couple years about events where a real vampire will feed on you.” He grimaced. To think a killer creature of the night had been menacing innocent, misguided people for so long! It was enough to make you sick… though he had to admit, he was a little excited too. As a vampire hunter, he’d had several false starts that were embarrassing to look back on. But tonight, this little vampire party? This would be the one. He’d bring an end to this monster, and nobody would have to worry about getting their blood sucked in this town again!
Lloyd was feeling slightly less confident upon arriving at the door of a nice-looking two-story house. Luckily several other vampire hunters were with him for backup- a couple of old college pals and a guy he’d met on a vampire information forum. True, none of them had any real experience with vampires either, but there was safety in numbers.
He’d been expecting a ravenous, snarling monster descending on clueless and terrified partygoers to kill them, but what he found upon arriving was a charming, well-dressed fellow feeding on guests all too eager to give him a taste. The guests themselves came in a wide variety, he noted as he glanced from goths in full makeup to guys in casual dress chatting about a film festival with a middle-aged businesswoman. There was a table covered in plates of delicious-looking food, which partygoers periodically stopped to enjoy.
Lloyd noticed a few people looking nervous or uncomfortable as they approached the vampire Bradley, and watched them, ready to jump in at the moment he struck. The moment never came, though. Bradley seemed perfectly happy to let them decline, directing them to go mingle or try the snacks. It wasn’t as though there was any short supply of people willing to give him a sip straight from the source. Lloyd wondered if this many people showed up to all Bradley’s parties- were they repeat guests? He definitely seemed familiar with some of them. His suspicions were confirmed when he overheard a duo of women gushing over how Bradley had “filled out” since a few years ago. The fact that he’d gained that weight from snacking on people didn’t seem to bother them, judging from the bandages on their fingers. Lloyd tried to ignore the uninvited thought that Bradley’s large figure was pretty attractive. That was how they got you.
As the night progressed, he and his fellow hunters kept to themselves. He didn’t even sample the food, not trusting it. However, when all the guests willing to be bitten had gotten enough blood drained away, Bradley turned his bright eyes to the many new guests who’d declined a drink.
“Come now, it’s a party!” he said, grinning at them with his sharp teeth on display. “You may not have wanted to have me feed from you, but there’s no reason you can’t eat some of this spread! I want all my guests to enjoy themselves.”
Lloyd took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stepped forward, his hand on the holster that concealed his stake.
“Actually,” he said, willing his voice not to shake, “I’d enjoy myself more if I could slay you.”
Several guests around his target gasped, but Bradley himself only gave him an easy smile. “Really? That’s exciting. Come over, then.”
Lloyd made his way across the floor. Though it was only a few feet to the vampire, the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him made it feel a lot longer. Bradley made no move to defend himself, sitting prone in his chair with the grace of an aristocrat.
“Shall I unbutton my shirt? It will make for easier access,” he said. When Lloyd didn’t answer, he began to do just that. Two buttons were open before Lloyd finally found the guts to say something.
“I’d rather do this somewhere we don’t have so many people watching,” he said.
A woman beside Bradley began to whisper something in his ear, but he murmured something to her that seemed to put her at ease.
“Of course. Come with me.” And with that, Bradley took his hand and led him upstairs, then down a long hallway. Lloyd began to wish he’d taken along one of his slayer friends. They’d come after him if he was gone too long, though… wouldn’t they?
Bradley opened the door to a room with a large, curtained four-poster bed. It was very clean, with unlit candles in jars and moonlight streaming in through a window. He lay on the bed, exposing his pale collarbone in a way that made Lloyd blush. It wasn’t bedroom eyes, he told himself. He was just trying to mess with his head.
Lloyd narrowed his eyes. The only way to win this was to beat the vampire at his own game. “Would you mind taking off your shirt?” he asked. “For practicality’s sake.”
“So polite for someone trying to kill me,” Bradley remarked, undoing the third button. There were soft, dark curls of hair on his broad chest.
“If I was too cocky, you might get sick of playing with me and decide I’m perfect for dessert.”
“You think so?” He undid another button, requiring a bit more attention than the others before it. Lloyd hadn’t noticed before, but the shirt looked rather tight around the middle. It must have been all the fresh blood Bradley had drank- and yet, his clothes were spotless, as though he hadn’t spilled one drop.
“It’s not hard to tell you’re playing mind games.”
“Mind games? I’ve been nothing but courteous to you,” he said calmly, undoing yet another button. “In fact, I’d say I’ve gone beyond being a good host.” The last button free, he shrugged off the shirt and placed it beside him on a pillow.
Lloyd stared. No wonder the shirt had looked a little strained. The vampire was so bloated with blood that his round stomach had a slight pink blush. He was a predator after a hunt, full and sleepy and, most of all, vulnerable. He gazed up at him, almost seeming to expect something.
“I don’t think good hosts usually eat the guests,” Lloyd shot back, pulling his stake from his holster and advancing on him. He wouldn’t let his guard down, not for a minute. He wouldn’t be next.
Bradley shrugged. “It’s not as if that was in fine print on the invitation. These people like when I feed from them. As long as my guests leave happy, what’s the issue?”
“I think we need-“ Lloyd thrust out his non-occupied hand, pinning it to Bradley’s chest “-to get to the heart of the matter.”
There was a brief pause.
“Your hand is warm,” Bradley said.
“I just- can’t find a pulse,” Lloyd said, trying not to show his embarrassment. “Your heart is here, right?”
“No, that’s my breast. It would still hurt if you stabbed me there, though.”
Lloyd scowled and hoped the blush creeping up his neck wasn’t visible. He moved his hand over and readied the stake. He searched the creature’s eyes for a spark of fear, anger, anything to show that he realized what was about to happen-
And he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Is this your first time?”
He blinked.
Those bright eyes were looking at him, not with fear, but with curiosity. Lloyd swallowed, not lowering the stake.
“I… yes. Why should that matter?”
“You seem like you’re the type of person who wants their first slaying to be special.” He didn’t make a move to grab for Lloyd’s weapon. His hand, pressing gently into his shoulder, felt almost comforting. “Is that right?”
He nodded slowly. “I was so sure tonight was going to be the night. Everything seemed perfect, but now that it’s time to actually do it…”
“You have performance anxiety?”
Lloyd sighed and finally put the stake down. “I really blew it, I guess.”
“No,” Bradley said consolingly, patting his hand. “You did a lot just by coming here! If you’re not comfortable with slaying me tonight, that’s your choice.”
“Are you sure that’s not just your instinct to stay alive talking?”
“Well, partially,” he admitted. “But I’d still say that even if you weren’t bent on putting a stake in me.” He pushed his hair back. “I don’t take blood from anyone who isn’t ready, either. But you already know that. I saw you watching me all night.”
Lloyd had thought he’d been subtle. He sat on the corner of the bed, brows furrowed in resignation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said. “Everyone expected me to slay you tonight, but you’re not hurting anyone. I can’t.”
Bradley considered this. “You could go back and say that you put up a hell of a fight, but I got away. I could even tear your clothes a little to really sell it.”
“I feel like they might come to look for you,” Lloyd said. Bradley seemed like he could handle himself, but he didn’t want his friends to try and finish the job. “Couldn’t you turn into a bat and hide out of sight til we leave?”
“Ordinarily, sure. But at the moment, I’m so full that it’s not feasible.” He rubbed his belly. “It’s going to take me a while to digest all this.”
“Ah. Too bad,” said Lloyd, trying not to imagine how it would feel if he brushed his fingers over that satiated stomach. There were more important things at hand. “Maybe if we-“
The sound of quick footsteps came from down the hall, followed by another pair close behind. The door handle turned. One of Lloyd’s friends threw open the door, stake poised at the ready. Their eyes met Lloyd’s panicked ones, then traveled to Bradley, lying shirtless and slightly bemused on the bed.
“Oh,” they said, and then, dropping their stake, “oh, shit. Sorry.” The woman from earlier caught up to them as they closed the door. Lloyd caught her expression change from concern to relief right before it shut.
They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Lloyd started to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“That could’ve gone worse,” he said. “I know it’s kind of bold to ask this as a party crasher, but can I take a minute before I go face the music?”
“Stay as long as you like,” Bradley said. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.”
Lloyd lay on his side along the width of the bed, perpendicular to his new friend. “Is it cool to ask how you became a vampire?”
“Sure, but you have to tell me what got you into vampire hunting afterwards…”
A little while later, they came downstairs together. Bradley had his shirt back on, though he hadn’t bothered to button it. Lloyd’s friends were gawking at the two of them with various astonished expressions, but he found he didn’t really mind.
After he’d ushered them out of the house, Bradley gave Lloyd a quick peck on the cheek. “Feel free to come to the next one,” he said. “I always appreciate good company.”
Lloyd squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A KINK FIC. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.
The P.hantom of the P.aradise finally gets something to eat.
The Phantom of the Paradise was about to strike again. While the Juicy Fruits, the band he so detested was out on stage butchering his music, he stole into their dressing room. He had promised Swan that he wouldn’t sabotage them anymore, but then Swan had promised him those greasy creeps were old news- and there they were singing backup anyway. Besides, he wasn’t intending to do anything lethal at this point, just scare them out of doing the real performance after they finished with the rehearsal. He just needed to find a good place to hide until they came back.
And then, he spotted the platter that had been set on the table. It was large, covered with neatly arranged rows of assorted fruit, cheese, and crackers. The Phantom realized with a start that he’d been so busy rewriting his cantata, he’d barely noticed that he hadn’t eaten in… how long? It felt like a few days, but that couldn’t be right. All the drugs must really be getting to him. No, on second thought, pills were all he could remember having. The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt. He was the composer, and Swan couldn’t even bother to give him a meal while his little pet projects got snacks and treats whenever they pleased? Well, not this time.
He only hesitated for a moment before snatching up a cracker and biting down. It was crisp and salty, and he immediately wanted another. So he took more, and then some cheese. He wasn’t sure if the cheese was all that good or if he was just that hungry, but either way he didn’t have any desire to stop eating. The crackers were a bit dry, though, so he took a few grapes. They were ripe and red, and had a slightly tart sweetness. From there he sampled the strawberries, the orange slices, and the pineapple. It was all extremely easy to eat, with no overly soft bits spoiling the texture at all. Even the cantaloupe, which he ordinarily didn’t care for, tasted just right. The hollow feeling in his stomach was subsiding. He took a little more of everything- the strawberries tasted nice with cheese, he noted. Maybe a few more crackers could be good…
He heard a commotion outside and darted behind the door, just in case. Two voices were having some sort of argument.
“- you realize this makes us both look bad. Swan ain’t gonna like this.” He recognized that voice- Swan’s jerk of a talent scout.
“So what? I’m here now, aren’t I?” That was someone he didn’t know- another man, who had a bit of a lisp. Definitely not one of the Juicy Fruits, so maybe he was part of the crew. “Look, the sooner you get off my case…”
At that point, the two of them had walked out of the Phantom’s earshot. It seemed as though nobody would be coming back any time soon. He looked back at the platter. To his surprise, he’d eaten about half of it before the interruption. Part of him just wanted to leave the rest. He’d had enough for now. Then again, he did want revenge, and having the Juicy Fruits come back to no food at all would certainly add insult to injury. Besides, who knew when he’d get a chance to eat again?
He’d expected to slow down a bit, since he wasn’t quite as hungry now. But almost as soon as he’d resumed, he wasn’t eating it so much as devouring it. Maybe it was the same sort of frenzy he went into when composing. He didn’t have any time to think that vague idea through, though. The only part of his mind that wasn’t focused on the meal at the moment was working to keep the excess fruit juice from falling onto his costume. After all, he only had one, and he didn’t want to ruin it.
It didn’t take long for his mind to wander as he ate. The Phantom was very dimly aware that the amount of food he’d polished off had been a snack intended for two people, and he was nearing enough for three. When he’d been W.inslow L.each, the composer, he probably wouldn’t have taken more than a handful however hungry he’d been. Of course, back then he would have been free to get something else to tide himself over. Although he’d still been obsessive over his music then, he hadn’t been shackled to it, writing on a time limit just for the one person who could still do it justice…
His stomach groaned, and the Phantom was brought back to reality. The platter was empty. He put his hand below the voice box on his chest. The food had filled his belly enough to bulge out noticeably from underneath his ribs. Though the Phantom was tall, he was also thin as a rail- he had been even before the accident, which being in prison for half a year hadn’t exactly helped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so much, and it showed.
Well, he thought, it was no good confronting those sad excuses for musicians now. Not when his stomach felt like it might burst the seams of his leather suit at any moment. Realistically, his clothes were only a little tighter around the middle, but it wasn’t exactly a stretchy material. In any case, his need to tend to the uncomfortable fullness outweighed the need to scare them off at the moment.
Stuffed and achy, the Phantom lay on the floor of his room. As he rubbed his tummy, he couldn’t help but think that although it hurt, it would have felt worse to go hungry. Probably would have been worse for him in the long run, too, he reasoned. Anyway, what was done was done. The band, and more importantly, Swan, wouldn’t discover the missing food for a good while. And even though Swan would absolutely know where it had disappeared to, he couldn’t very well do anything about it. It was his own fault, forgetting to feed a glorified prisoner. Now he was paying the price, and after the Phantom’s stomach settled, he would be full and happy. Even imagining Swan’s infuriating calm voice telling him if he’d been hungry, he ought to have said something couldn’t get in the way of his satisfaction. It was a small, petty victory, but it was one he didn’t regret.
He shut his eyes, smiling for the first time in months. The cantata would definitely be better written after a good meal.
