Weeee

23 |She/They| Tummy aches and nasty kinks, proceed with caution| mdni

[weee99]

I am using this blog as an outlet for gross kinks, which is mainly scat based stuff.

No to smearing and eating but yes to pretty much anything else!

I don’t mind requests or questions or general horny ramblings if anyone wants to talk.

I hope you enjoy my stories! I’ll be putting them all in my writing tag

[full-nastiness-ahead]

would you want to mix petplay with omo or corpro kinks?

YES!!! it's such a good combo imo🤤

like. the classic "no toilets for you, you have to use the litter, puppy❤️" and all the embarrassment and mess that come from using this tiny little thing for their huge load/bursting bladder

I also LOVE when it's a bratty puppy who purposely dribbles on the couch or drops a log on the floor only to act all sorry afterward. they're just a baby🥺 you can't get mad! your blanket looks just like their puppy pads. they were trying to be good!!! will they learn their lesson? ...no. but don't they look sooo cute when letting everything out in the middle of the living room?

OR a puppy who only likes going when their owner is watching and cooing praises at them. so they hold the entire time their owner is at work, whining and trying their best to keep it all in. they'd yelp at the occasional leak or fart and paw at the door, thinking that would make their owner come faster. they're so desperate when evening comes that they can't move without wetting themselves and they have been turtleheading for a long while. when the owner finally comes home, the relief and excitement is so strong that they accidentally and uncontrollably go right there.🤭 but they still get praised because they tried soo hard and they'll make it next time for sure! OR they frantically drag their owner to their puppy pad/litter and make a whole show of finally letting everything out. piss endlessly gushes out of them and log after log crackle out of their exhausted muddy hole. the only thing better than the crashing wave of relief are the sweet praises from their owner and aaall the treats and cuddles they'll get afterward.😌↕️

[weee99]

My current draft ideas for stories I want to write☺️

Write your own if you feel inspired or tell me which is your fav!

Being teased for color of poop after an accident (like really green poop after having blue moon ice cream or something like that)

Shitting while straddling the lap of someone who is currently on the toilet. Either the person on the toilet is there for comfort or is very surprised to have a very desperate friend on their lap because they couldn’t hold it

Marshmallow challenge!! A mean bully is trying to see how many marshmallows their victims asshole can hold, maybe force feeding them some extra just for good measure ;)

Holding shit while in clear pants. Maybe it’s like a strip club deal? Can’t think of reasons for someone to wear clear pants lol. Either way their twitching hole is on full display while they attempt to hold back an upset tummy, oh no!

Pee accident with farting. Their body is so relaxed after finally being able to let go that they can’t hold their gas, making the accident all the more embarrassing :(.

Walking to hospital bathroom after enema and not making it. A classiccc, maybe the doctor made an honest mistake and pumped them too full or they overfill them on purpose.

Filling someone way too full with water both ends, then fucking. Mess ensues.

Publicly shitting legs spread open leaning against wall because their stomach hurts so bad, they have no hope of hiding their accident and need the pain in their tummy out

Controlling teacher or boss doesn’t allow bathroom breaks, chases guy to bathroom and brings them back. They’re forced to make a mess :( then get yelled at for not holding it:((

Tummy ache at the theater. Too much junk food while on a date but they don’t want to excuse themselves! It’d be rude to leave their date all alone!

Whipped cream enema 🤤. Dunno if y’all have seen those videos but it makes the craziest noises and fills you up so fast! The sugar must make you cramp like crazy too.. but how do I get blorbo in a situation where they’re non consensually getting cream pumped into their guts? Much to consider

Your fav needs to hold their bladder for an ultrasound, and find they aren’t able to void their bowels without peeing too. So they have to hold both. I saw someone else post about this and it made my brain fuzzy. I believe it was omo-bi. Amazing idea. I MUST write about it.

Overheard struggling in bathroom. Some jokester making unnecessary jabs while this poor guy fights for his life on the toilet.

Dunno about yall but caffeinated tea makes my bladder fill up immediately. Imagine someone being filled with wayyy too much tea, and not being allowed the bathroom. Maybe after every accident their partner lovingly cleans them up and gives them a fresh pair of pants. Tutting in disappointment when they flood the next pair not even half an hour later.

This is all I have for the moment, but I make sure to leave notes whoever I think of a particularly depraved scenario >:)

[weee99]

Would you ever consider adding any emeto to your eggpreg poop stories? So packed full with eggs their body tries to get rid of them both ways...

Of course!! It would only be the natural outcome really…

The human body isn’t meant to have all the stuffed in them. I imagine it’s like those milk challenge videos from ye old youtube days. It doesn’t matter how much control you think guy have, it’s literally impossible to fit more into your stomach when it’s decided it’s too full. At first any food the try to put in their body doesn’t even get pass the eggs. It sits awkwardly in their tummy for a while, bubbles and sloshes in their upper belly. It’s not even being digested, just sitting there and making them feel terribly nauseous.

They try to rub at their stomach and push things down, but it’s no use. The mess just swirls and churns untill it all comes up in an embarrassing gush of liquid. The sensation of their guts squeezing around the eggs makes them gasp. They choke on the next mouthful that comes up. Their partner finds them spluttering onto the bedsheets, at their side in a flash. They rub their back and apologize while all their swollen partner can do is breathe deeply in an attempt to hold down more retches.

The solution is very small amounts of food and lots of stomach rubs. They need constant stimulation there to help push things around the eggs. The process still leaves them feeling constantly on the verge of heaving, but at least their body is able to absorb some full meals. It’s taken oh so greedily and they actually find themselves wishing they could eat more despite feeling so stuffed. Their body demands even more calories to nourish the clutch inside of them. Maybe that urge for extra fuel is too much to ignore at times, and their partner finds them nursing a stomachache with a pout. They want to cry as their stomach squeezes the much needed food up their throat. They spend the next hour burping and heaving over a bucket, stuck in a miserable haze of a hungry, upset tummy.

They’re thankfully able to adjust over the next few days, learning to take things slow and listen to their belly. But when enough food finally starts to work at their guts they become aware of a growing problem down below.

Thank you for the ask!! I’m glad you enjoyed the story! I worked hard and and actually feel pretty proud of this one ☺️.

I’m attempting to go a little slower with the stories and not just type them in a horny blur. It’s fun but I want to write quality horny posts dammit!

I hope they inspire other people to get more comfy and maybe post some stories of their own, I’m greedy and want this community to grow >:)

🩵

[weee99]

I hope yall like eggs!!!

Scat and ovi is something I really wish was combined more often. They both kind of have the same appeal so why not!

Imagine a guy with a snake-like partner. Maybe a Naga kind of deal? About every month or so they lay eggs, and have been trying to convince their mate that he would looove having them stuffed in his tummy. Their non-humans instincts leave them feeling so broody and desperate when that time comes around. They foggily recall literally groveling in front of their beloved life mate. They’re begging to let them fill him up. The first days of their mating cycle have been rough. Their swollen slit has given way to two twitching cocks, left on permanent display as they can’t possibly retract them in this state. One cock functions as the ovipositor, and its become oh so swollen as the nagas cycle progresses. The base and a patch of their tummy bulge slightly with eggs. They take their humans hand and places it on their tummy, showing them how full and achy they are. The human partner relents after seeing a few genuine pathetic tears slip from their love. He’s very nervous, however. They’ve hardly even experimented with anal! Now he’s just supposed to take a whole ovipositor up his ass AND eggs?? It’s intimidating to say the least. He does his best to keep his voice calm, but it still comes out tense and slightly shrill

“Where would they even go honey?!”

The naga does their best to explain, the fullness in their navel and heat down below clouding their thoughts.

“We’re a very hardy species, the eggs just need some nutrients and a warm place to stay, they’ll make room I promise.” They manage to gasp out.

Their human gives an amused snort, not missing the pride the statement is delivered with. He meets his partner on the floor, resting a hand on scaly navel again, watching with fascination as they grunt and squirm a little. He can feel resistance as he massages the swollen area. If he pushes hard enough he can even feel the individual eggs. A shiny hand is suddenly wrapped around their wrist, their partner has a looks of deep concentration in their face. Their other hand is tightly gripping around the base of their cock. The human gasps as he watches his partner hold onto the eggs they so desperately wanted out.

“Please, I-ah!” The veins in their hands bulge as they push back against bulge in their cock. “I’ll be gentle, you’ll love it! I’ll take care of everything I just needyoutotakemyeggsnow.”

He can’t stand seeing his partner so desperate, a few eggs in his ass is worth it if it puts his beloved at peace. He steels himself and, after calming the naga down, they move to the bedroom. His partner is indeed very gentle, opening him up in the nicest of ways and taking things slow despite their clear desperation. It’s lovely and sweet and perfect but that part isn’t what we’re here for >:).

The human gasps as the swelled base of an egg filled ovipositor pushes insistently at his rim. It’s intense, but he feels relaxed enough to take it. The naga watches with glassy eyes as, with a determined grunt, he pushes down and pops the rest in. Their patience has run out. The squeeze around their cock coaxes the first egg out before the human even has time to adjust to the intrusion. All he can do is hold onto their scaly partner while they grind up into them, letting out pleased hums as they work on pushing the rest into their mate. They’re lost in a haze of instincts. The satisfaction of breeding their partner paired with the tightness finally leaving the nagas navel left them drooling against their mates neck. They were far too dazed to notice the humans struggle.

He’s wrapped up in his lovers lower half, chilly scales doing little to soothe the ache of egg after egg after egg being pushed into his tummy. They were about apple sized, and from what he’d seen from the naga in the past, a full clutch would be about 20. His eyes cross as he feels what he thinks is the twelfth push past his rim, the eggs all jostle each other when it enters. God, he’s so full, he squirms and tries to wriggle against the nagas hold. He needs to get into a more relaxing position or get his hands on his stomach, anything to help with the pressure inside of him.

The distress is immediately felt by the snake, and they give small chirps as they readjust their mate, placing them slightly in their back. They bring cool hands to the stretched skin in front of them. Pupils filling the expanse of their eyes as they ease their partners discomfort. Their hazy brain is telling them to massage upwards. Slightly rough pushes to his taught stomach are met with a rewarding wheeze. They’re on a mission to get their full clutch into their human; they need him as full as he’ll allow.

The human groans as his partners ovipositor finally leaves his hole with a pop. He makes an attempt to move, but it’s met with a scolding click. Scaly skin coils tighter, keeping him in place. His stomach is still being pushed and pressed at. The naga seemed to want the eggs worked up into his body more. He can feel them jostle around in his belly, it’s so full. His eyes feel as heavy as his stomach. His body urges him to sleep as his body adjusts to the large clutch.

The naga gives a contented sigh. They watch their dozing human as they continue to palpate their belly. Their now empty body practically sings in satisfaction, feeling more relief than any previous cycle had given them. They are determined to give their partner the best care possible while he carries their clutch. They are a little clueless to how a human body would handle the process, though.

When the human wakes, he finds he’s been lovingly tucked into bed. He feels so warm and heavy under all the blankets he’s been given, it’s impossible not to doze for a while longer. He curls onto his side to get more cozy. Well, he attempts to.

“Oh god-mmf”

The movement causes last nights tryst to become blindingly apparent. Every egg seems to jostle individually with the movement. The human gasps and wraps an arm around his stomach; attempting to keep everything still. The eggs had him feeling so full! He knew what he was getting into, but would he feel this sluggish and weighed down for the next month? How would he function like this?

His answer appears in a blur of scales. A clink of porcelain is heard before cold hands steady him, moving his body out of the awkward twist he’d been stuck in.

“How are you feeling, love?”

The naga is looking rather anxious, eyes wide and mouth pulled into a grimace as they wait for an answer. This cycle had really done a number on their brain, what were they thinking! They haven’t reproduced with a human before, they didn’t have the slightest clue to how his body would handle eggs! They had woken up to their swollen mate snoring in their curled up body and almost screamed. Half with joy and half with horror, they can’t believe they had gotten him to agree to this! A thorough search of the humans body showed no signs of injury, they gave a relieved sigh at that. If anything internal was damaged their mate surely wouldn’t be sleeping so….adorably. everything was okay so far.

The half snake shakes off their train of thought when a miserable groan answers their question.

“Full…” the human barely has the energy to mumble as his partner props some pillows behind him.

“Oh honey, why did you let me do this to you?” They coo, wanting to hear how he felt before letting any excitement show.

“Mm, you were hurting, want’d to help” their mate gave a weak smile, sleep giving his speech a slight slur.

“You are so very brave” the naga placed a kiss on the humans forehead “I’ll take the best care of you to make up for this, speaking of-“ a warm bowl of soup is in the nagas hands, and they hold it out to the human. He pales at the idea of stuffing anything into himself in this state. “You need to eat.” His partner is frowning, confused by his reluctance to feed. He should be starving! They just spent a mating cycle together and he had eggs he needed to nourish! That should work up a crazy appetite no matter the species. The human sighs and relents to the nagas caretaking urges. The soup is warm and healing and everything in his body screams at him to take more, but the weight in his stomach is telling his brain too full too full it’s too much! It takes a long time, but eventually the bowl is empty and the snake is satisfied.

“The eggs are in my stomach, lizard brain, I’m really fucking full.” The human is finally able to remind them now that they’re feeling a little less frantic. They hiss in embarrassment and apologize to the human, obviously that’s why he’s not hungry!

“We’ll go slower next time, but you really do need to eat. It’s good for all of you” they smile proudly and place a hand on the humans belly. Their toothy smile drops when they feel a gurgle from underneath their palm. The human groans and bends forward as much as his body will allow. It still doesn’t hurt, but his guts are clearly doing some weird shit, the human body doesn’t really expect solids in the stomach like this after all. He takes a moment to really look at himself. His belly is pushed out a good bit, but the swell looks far too gentle in contrast to how stuffed he feels. The next month was going to be intense

He needs help with everything now. Getting anywhere around the house requires the addition of one overeager serpent at his side. The eggs are their own issue, the weight sitting heavy in his rounded stomach. They make him feel lethargic and every movement has him breathless, each egg seems to shift with him. But he has another problem…

His partner is somehow, too doting? Anytime he feels like he might be getting used to the eggs- large, homemade meals are nearly forced down his throat. His partner is very insistent on making sure he and their clutch get enough nutrients. Resisting is not on the table. He won’t act like he hates it though, the naga is practically his shadow now. Coaxing him to bed, keeping him fed, entertaining him in cheesy displays that show just how well his partner knows him. It’s nice, to be taken of so thoroughly.

He has another unfortunate problem though, with the clutch growing in his stomach, it is making other…processes more difficult. He does his best to muffle the sounds of his predicament. But when he has to uh, use the bathroom, his body needs to push his waste passed the eggs in his stomach. It’s a mortifying sensation, he has to push embarrassingly hard to get anything out; and when he does, he feels the eggs settle back down in his guts to take up the extra room. Some gasps and heaves will make their way past his clenched fingers, and his partner is right at the door. Nervously questioning if he’s feeling alright. It’s a wonder he can even use the bathroom alone. The human desperately hopes he can keep this gross bit of the process to himself.

He has no such luck, of course. By about week three, the eggs seemed to have taken up most of the room in his stomach. He was horrified to find he could no longer pass anything in the morning. He strained for hours in an attempt to rid his body of the full feeling he felt upon waking. Nothing moved. The human sighs and cleans up, holding his stomach as he heaved himself off of the toilet. I just have another week, he tells himself with a deep breath, I just need to keep this to myself till then.

Turns out, acting normal in front of your partner when your body is stuffed with eggs and shit, is incredibly hard. He curses inwardly every time he’s a little too snappy with the naga, hoping they attribute it to the eggs. He feels like a damn ballon as he lays in their curled up tail on the couch. His belly presses heavily against his body; he’s spent the last few minutes squirming to find a comfortable way to lay.

The naga is chatting mindlessly, clearly picking on their mates sour mood, and hoping to remedy it. They hiss in sympathy when he wiggles around on their body. Clearly the eggs are a lot for their poor mate, but they can certainly help! It’s their job as a proper naga after all. They watch for another minute, attempting to note which parts of the humans body seemed the most uncomfortable. From the way he groaned when he lay back a little too fast, his stomach seemed to be the biggest problem. Duh. The naga lowers their head down to kiss at their mates neck, reaching hands around taut skin as they did so. The shift putting the human in a more upright position. The skin of his belly feels warm to the touch, practically thrumming with life. The naga smiles a little giddily as they rub small circles on the lower part of their partners tummy, and then lifts a little. The noise the human releases at that has their ears flaming red. He sounded damn near pleasured by the weight being lifted from his body. They guessed that made sense, the eggs must be putting a lot of strain on him. They ignore their flustering arousal and continue massaging and holding onto swollen flesh. They hoped they were being good enough for the human.

He was in heaven. The weight of his stuffed middle being supported even just a little was blissful. His hips and spine no longer felt like they were being crushed, and the cool hands massaging his heated skin was a soothing balm. He couldn’t even attempt to contain his noises, his serpent lover was treating him like a damn stress ball. They would life their belly this way and that, seeming to note which actions bought the most relief. Each jostle and rub felt like it moved individual eggs in him, the feeling of them shifting inside his body was truly bizarre. Not unpleasant, though. It almost felt like his inside were being massaged too. His vision feels hazy as he rests his head against the nagas chest, smiling blearily in thanks. They look back warmly, lifting the bottom of his belly with one hand and pressing his palm against the top of his belly at the same time.

The movement dislodges something. The human tenses up as what feels like bubbles of gas sludge through his intestines, lazily making its way down now that he’s been given space to move. It brings a nasty gurgle with it, loudly groaning right where his partners palm sits.

The naga cocks their head at this, not really having put together that the eggs being in his intestines is causing some digestive upset. They dutifully continues rubbing nonetheless, the noise worrying them.

He’s in a rough spot. His guts were cramping in a way that signaled an urgent need for the toilet, but he was held fast in his partners coiling frame. And their hands felt so, so nice on his belly. The idea of leaving their warmth and struggling alone in the cold bathroom made him tear up a little. Did incubating eggs make you hormonal? Whatever, not important right now. He clenches his bottom the best he can, hiding his face in his partners chest as he literally feels his asshole tremble against the pressure.

A watery groan from beneath their hands makes the snake frown. His body was handling the eggs okay, right? They can’t recall their own species bodies reacting like this. Snake anatomy was a little more equipped for handling eggs, they wonder what’s going on in their poor humans tummy. They’ll ask once he’s feeling better. They press into the humans flesh a bit harder, feeling successful when they feel the slosh move down. That has to help right? Their partner isn’t providing much feedback, but judging from the way he seemed to push his whole body back into their lap, desperately seeking more contact, they had to be doing something right.

“Nooo…” it’s the first actual word they’ve heard from the human while on the couch.

“Hey, talk to me love, what’s going on?” The snake talks quietly, like they were attempting to soothe a scared animal. The response they get is a miserable whine and a vibration against the snake half of their body. It had come from…their partner? He’s currently trembling against their chest, the noise apparently a breaking point for their ailing mate.

“My tummy hurts…” he sounds so small as he mumbles the words into their chest. They feel their heart shatter at his words, guilt thick in his voice

“Are the eggs hurting you? I’m so, so sorry love, I really should have thought this through better” they tsk and bring both arms under their mates belly, lifting up in what they hope is a comforting gesture.

“That-ghh! That’s not it, it’s not the eggs..ahh” another long rumbling vibrates their scales as their mates gives a defeated whimper. “They’re in my stomach, idiot. I can’t um..use the bathroom like this. They’re too big.” He feels like he can’t possibly embarrass himself further; it boldens his complaints. “And it doesn’t help that you’re constantly feeding me either! It’s like you don’t even know how…” well, I guess he wouldn’t know how human anatomy works, he thinks. Snakes probably work a little different.

They’re caught between smacking themselves in the head and giggling in relief. They thought the eggs were killing their poor mate! It was just some tummy trouble! That was certainly something they could handle. They won’t lie and say they’re not curious anyhow, a humans digestive system seems to work quite differently. Their mate has never been very keen to answer invasive questions about human bathroom habits, though. They coo and gently release the egg filled stomach, swiftly removing their humans pants and underwear before he can protest.

“Just listen to your body, okay? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” They nuzzle against his cheek while moving their hands down, eager to help now that they know what’s hurting their beloved mate.

He’s never been more embarrassed in his life. Sharp-nailed fingers are currently pulling his cheeks apart as he lets another uncontrollable fart loose. He swears he feels the eggs take up more space in his guts as he’s forced to let out several more. The last few leave his face burning as his naga partner pushes a finger directly against his gassy hole. They sound fascinated by the nasty things his body is doing. Each burst of gas is met with a hum, like he’s just told his partner a particularly interesting fact.

They learn that having one hand rubbing circles into his taught tummy and using the other to spread open his mates anus is what gives the best results. The rubbing feels a little rough to them, but the way their human is biting back groans and relaxing into their hold tells them they’re doing things right. He still hasn’t excreted, however. He had said his tummy being backed up is what was hurting him, so they fully intend to help with that. But their human doesn’t seem close to producing any waste. They can’t have that.

“You need to use the bathroom, yes? Why aren’t you going? Is there another way I can help?”

He’s far too busy deflating to answer. God, this was mortifying. He’s been giving test pushes after every expulsion, seeing if anything solid would start to move. No such luck.

“That’s kind of private, love…” not really expecting to have to explain to his partner that shitting in front of each other isn’t really a normal human thing. He couldn’t even if he wanted anyways. “It’s uhm, behind the eggs anyway, I think.”

“Ohhh, so you’ll need help once you lay the eggs?” Their eyes are wide and earnest as they look down at the human, really meaning it when they said they’d do anything to help.

The human tried to keep the bathroom incidents to a minimum after that. Which, fortunately or unfortunately for him, were not an issue after that. His partners massage seemed to coax any extra space out of his guts. So now the eggs sat heavy in his belly with what was surely an absurd amount of shit behind it. His partner unfortunately did not slow down on the excessive meals, insisting that they still needed their energy to keep healthy and for the laying. They did work with them on what meals were made, however. They settled on more BRAT diet type foods rather than calorically dense meals that would better suit an athlete the night before a marathon. It sat much nicer in his tummy. He still felt terribly stuffed, but none of the cramps and gas from earlier were making a reappearance. All he could do now was waddle around and wait until the eggs decided they were ready. His partner seems very pleased with themselves. Attending to his every need with a bright smile stretching their lips.

He wakes a few nights later drenched in sweat, unsure what woke him untill a sharp stab in his stomach makes him cry out. His knees curl into his body the best they can; he finds himself mindlessly going into a downward dog sort of position to relive the pain. He grunts against the next wave of pain, gasping when he feels something shift down.

It’s finally time, then. He slaps at the nagas sleeping form the best he can, waves of contractions not really allowing him to move from his position. They’re up in a flash, immediately moving them to a nest like pile of blankets they had set up the night before. He had been too sleepy to question the behavior at the time, but was endlessly grateful when they were guided to their knees in the middle of it. The blankets cushioned his knees nicely. A few moans slipped as the kneeling position urged everything to move down. This felt much more natural. He leans against the naga in their nest as his sleepy brain does his best to process the start of his laying.

As he wakes up a bit more, he hears his partner cooing at him. gentle encouragements and assurances that he was doing amazing met his ears. His body was doing what it needed to do. The words helped him feel a little less scared when he felt the first egg push at his sphincter. He still couldn’t help but gasp, though, the noise morphing into a strangled groan as the clench pushed everything back up.

“Hey, no fighting love. You need to let them out, try pushing.” Their sweet voice held him like a vice, his brain turning to mush as he focused on pushing. He needed to push. He didn’t fight the next wave and felt muted horror when his rim started to part around a smooth egg. The strongest cramp yet grips his guts as he’s suddenly stretched around the largest part of the egg. He pushes hard, and the first egg pops free and lands neatly in the pile of blankets. A quiet cheer from his partner has him smiling, leaning against them as he feels more pressure in his ass.

The naga is entranced, feeling nothing but adoration as they watch their partner lay the first few eggs. The way their hole holds tightly onto each one before it pops out. The way it twitches a little after and puffs back out as a new egg makes its way down. It’s mesmerizing. They love seeing their partner work so hard, they mumble something about keeping him full like this forever before their mind can filter the thought.

“God, no, please. Mmuhhn- my body can’t handle that.” The snake frowned, his body seemed to be handling it perfectly thank you very much, their mate was a perfect incubator!

An hour passes without another egg showing, and with 17 in their nest, the naga declares that their mate is empty. He hardly feels empty, though. Still feeling like there was junk high up in his guts. He was far too delirious to remember his constipation problem, he just wanted to be empty.

“Can you check please?” He presses his tummy in the nagas direction with a pout. They’re more than happy to help. They pull the human into their curled up lap and begin to poke at their belly. They massage at a stiff area in the man’s upper stomach, only remembering now about his stomach troubles. They decline to inform their partner, selfishly not wanted them to scramble away from them. This wasn’t any different than laying, they were determined to help with this as well, it was technically their fault anyhow.

The human is unaware of his partners intentions, simply enjoying the massage on his sore abs. He’d spent a good couple hours laying, and gladly welcomed the attention to his body. A foreboding glorp from his guts brings him back, however. He gasps, only now remembering his issue. He’s paralyzed as his tummy cramps hard, bringing tears to his eyes. He’s stuck on his knees in front of his partner while his guts push a truly massive dump towards his ass. The second the cramp releases, he stands on wobbly legs in an attempt to escape. The human rushes to the bathroom door, hearing a suprised hiss from behind him. Only staggering a few steps away from the nest before his legs give in.

“Stay away pleashhhn” his face is red and twisted with effort. “I wanna be alone there’s no more eggs! Can you bring m-mmggh!” He doubles over with a groan. “Bathroom…please..” are the last words he can get out before his body decides it’s had enough.

“I’m helping, you’re in no state to be left alone right now. No need to be so stubborn love..” they’re gentle as they wrap the lower part of their body around the humans middle, hoping the pressure there would help. His ass is still out, leaving room for prying fingers as the naga assesses his situation. He appears to be pushing very very hard, but they see nothing. Maybe it was similar to being egg bound? They had some lube ready if something similar were to happen to the human, but it seems they’d need it for a slightly different reason. They properly wet their fingers for the task, and squeeze some of the liquid into their partner just for good measure. He pushes immediately at the intrusion, his body wants everything out, not in! A small slick noise is made as his hole gapes around nothing. The snake scrunches their nose in concentration, pinprick eyes focused solely on their mates struggle. An inquiring finger is pushed against twitching muscle. They want to gauge the humans reaction before they do anything. Feeling no resistance, they sink their finger in. The muscle loose and relaxed from the eggs, but they’re still stopped against a solid mass when they reach up to their second knuckle. Another egg? No, this must be the humans waste. Much more solid than a snakes would be, they feel a twang of sympathy at that, it must be hard work for a human to pass this daily.

“It’s stuck” he mumbles, resigned to his humiliating fate. He hears a chuckle behind him, it makes his face burn even hotter.

“I can see that” they smile gently while they attempt to massage the muscle that was gripping onto the hard mass. Every now and then their mates body would go taut in their hold, and he pushes even harder and louder than when he was laying the eggs. The snakes eyes widen, the poor guy needed to push harder to get this out? No wonder bathroom stuff was so private to humans. They decide to give him a very gentle squeeze on his next push, hoping the added pressure on his stomach would move things along. He all but shrieked in response.

“Ow ow ow! It’ssnnggh-huurts! M’stomach hurtsss” he writhed in the snakes hold, but they held fast as they watched the progress the squeeze bought. Their mates hole was now being held open by a dark, firm shape. A touch confirmed it was quite hard, almost like a stone. The humans hole held tight around the protrusion, the irregular bumps and edges seemed to make this a lot harder to pass than the smooth shell of an egg. They soothed around a bulging bit of skin above their anus, the naga found that pushing on it moved the waste the tiniest bit out. It was something at least.

“You can do it, almost there love.” He didn’t have the energy to inform them that this was far from the end, the stuffed sensation in their gut telling them they had a lot of shit to get rid of, literally. Their asshole aches around the log that’s holding him open, each push only popping a few bumpy inches further. Another few rhythmic squeezes to his stomach help, functioning sort of like added peristalsis. He gasps, more waste feels like it’s piling at his sphincter, but that first log held everything in. The human whines as his guts gurgle in protest, rolling from deep within his stomach to up his throat. He has to muffle a few burps; the gas having nowhere else to go.

“Love, I think you need to stand up, let’s walk for a bit.” The snake winces as his partner barks a harsh laugh in response, which morphs into a groan. They watch with a furrowed brow as he pushes again. The waste doesn’t even move, just twitches pitifully as his anus bulges.

“I think it’ll help get things moving” they speak gently. It would help sometimes when their own kind were egg bound. They lift him up, not wanting him to waste energy on speaking. The human submits and awkwardly waddles next to the serpent, each step forward making his rim twist around the poop, inching it out slightly. They walk down the stairs together, the human trying not to pay any mind to the fact that this was working. He’d left a few pebbles behind at the top of the stairs, and did his best a grunt quietly as more poop made an appearance. He collapses as soon as they reach the bottom. Falls to his knees, belly heaving. The naga is relived to look behind them and see a much larger mass than before. They watch in amazement as a big push finally gets it all out. It thuds to the floor, the rest of the excrement looking much smoother and easier to get out. The snake breathes a sigh of relief, finally, it’s over. They’re about to reassure their partner again before a strained gasp interrupts them.

“No” the word comes out pleading and strained as he somehow manages to get his legs back underneath them. He once again only makes it a few steps before felling back down in a pitiful display. He’s braced against the bathroom door before the naga can reach him. They gasp as they approach and see their poor, poor partners anus start to widen again.

“Uunnggh get oUT! He’s frantic again, but they just watch as a small pile starts to plop under the humans bottom. This waste seems to be putting a lot less strain on his body. But there was so much of it. They watch as their partners stomach heaves every few second, adding coil after coil to the mound. They approach cautiously, bending down to where he has his sweaty forehead pressed against the door. Too preoccupied grunting out another wave to react. It’s gotten even softer, making small splats as it dribbles on top of everything else. They place their back against the wall, so they can put their hands back on the humans stomach, which was much less round now.

“Look at me please” the human whines, thighs shaking as a runny shart bursts out of him. He hates how close the naga has been for all of this. Why weren’t they grossed out? Why weren’t they leaving him any privacy? They’re right there, staring straight into his eyes as his face scrunches with another push. Embarrassing. He wraps both arms protectively around his tummy, bending further at the middle to escape the piercing gaze on him. His belly is grumbling all angry again, a small coo lets him know that the snake hears it too. He has no energy to fight as his hands are removed from his stomach, and he’s held against his partners chest. He can’t help but moan as their hands replace where his were, offering a delicious pressure that has his ass squirting. It was all liquid now, it burned his sore hole, but the pain was nothing compared to the relief of having an almost empty tummy. He leaned further against his partner, too weak to do anything but let his ass weakly spill out mess for the next while. The nagas gentle praise made him feel a little better. He hoped they were okay with cleaning up the mess. He’s pretty sure his body won’t be working at all for the next few days.

This was very fun to write, I’d love to know yalls thoughts! I’m also wondering if I should add names to these stories? It feels awkward sometimes not doing it so if anyone has strong opinions about that lemme know. Thank you for reading!! ❤️

[weee99]

Currently working on a poop + Eggpreg story >:)

Hopefully I’ll have it done soon but I’m having a lot of fun with it. In the meantime let me know if there’s anything specific you guys would like me to write!

[quietquease]

bowel upset in public.

I find my voice, finally, through tears that haven’t quite fallen yet. “Look away! Look AWAY!” The crowd only grows larger, some concerned, some amused, others disgusted. My abdomen is seizing in a terrifying way that everyone’s felt at least once before, but it’s too late for me to do anything. I can’t stand up straight anymore. My midsection hurts too much, but bending over causes my insides to lurch forward and my bloated belly to spill over my waistband. Instinctively, I clutch my stomach, to control the waves of pressure now moving downward. My knees buckle; the movement in belly happens again and I grab the nearest hand railing for support, my distress now abundantly clear. I want to tell them all not to look at me, why do they have phones out?! I try to speak, but all I can muster is a wail, “don’t look- oh, my god, I’m siiiick!” accidentally drawing out the last word to cover another ugly digestive gurgle.

[weee99]

Thinking about space / sci-fi and messing...

A cute, plump space pilot, so nervous about his first time at the controls that he shoots hot mush into his special absorbent pants. The ship's robots bend him over and spray him dry, but he's crying so hard he doesn't hear the team comforting him.

A tough commander on an intergalactic battleship, struck down with space-flu during a mission. He soldiers on, gritting his teeth and biting his lip, but it keeps on coming, and soon his precious uniform is stained and stinking.

An astronaut landing on the moon only to realise the rehydrated tacos they ate on the ship are doing a number on their bowels; at their first step it unleashes, ballooning out their suit, and they have to call for backup to air out the smell.

I did some research for this one lol.

First of all, love the idea of a machine being the one to clean up the mess. There’s no comfort, just mechanical movements as someone is humiliatingly scrubbed down and cleaned up at their lowest. They still feel terrible and they’re also being spread by the ships cleaning system. They try to wiggle away as the wet wipes being used sting their rim, but they’re held fast by cold, metal claws. They cry silently as their belly lets out some warning rumbles, they might be stuck like this for a while

It turns out that space diapers are a thing! So I love the idea of someone trying to tough out an illness, but they’re having such violent shits that it overloads the diaper they have in their suit. These things are supposed to be crazy absorbent, and pull away moisture from the body to reduce discomfort. So there would have to be a craaazy amount spilling out of someone for it to cause a leak. Maybe it happens in one big rush of chunky liquid, too fast for the absorbent material to catch. Or maybe it’s small nuggets and bursts of liquid here and there that cause it to overflow. Either way you have to be feeling pretty nasty to shit that much

I have some ideas of my own as well >:):

-Toilets in space look like they use vacuums to operate, so suction pulls waste away from you and keeps things from floating around. That has to feel so weird. If you’re super constipated does the suction help you and kinda like, pull it out? Imagine an astronaut has been trying to hold for their entire trip (that seems to be the general goal from what I’ve read). They have a ridiculous amount of waste in them, and since the body only has its own peristalsis to rely on without gravity, it’s likely a while before they feel the need to go. Even when they do, they still try to hold on since using the bathroom up there is so awkward. There’s a dark brown lump sitting riiight at the edge of their sphincter, occasional twitches of discomfort bringing it to a turtlehead. They feel so stuffed and sluggish that they eventually resign themselves to use the odd toilet. The suction they feel when their ass meets the seat makes them yelp. They can’t help the heady moan that leaves their mouth as they feel the bizarre sensation of a thick log being almost sucked out of them. It feels like it’s being pulled straight from their intestines. They leave the bathroom feeling quite flustered and confused. Maybe they continue to hold it as long as they can on future trips, they tell themselves that it’s what everyone there does! It has nothing to do with how good the toilet pulling at their rim feels, or how blissfully empty they fell afterwards.

-adding on to that, what about someone with a sick tummy on the same toilet. The suction would probably start to hurt after a while! Pulling and tugging at their swollen rim while they wait for another round of mush to explode out of them. They cry out and wiggle at the sensation, but the leg bands that keep them secured to the toilet hold them fast. There’s not much they go do but snivel and fart as they wait to feel better, poor guy :((

-Back on the space diaper thing. What if you catch a stomach bug in space? I imagine the astronaut would do their best to remain as unassuming as possible. But as they leave for a long spacewalk, they notice their stomach hurts. It feels a little swollen against their suit. They assume it’s just the change in diet and tries to ignore it. But eventually they’re in a position where they have to force out these nasty waves of hot liquid into their suit. They try to be as discreet as possible. Their farts don’t really make a sound, thank god, but they bubble horribly against the mess in their pants. Another round of cramping guts bring them to their knees, and they have to quietly admit to their coworker that they think they’re sick.

-Last one! Apparently samples of waste will be bought back from space for testing. Also, before we had the toilet we do now using the bathroom in space was rough. From what I saw, what was used was essentially a tight pair of pants with a condom like tube in the back. Imagine some poor astronaut taking a shameful shit in one of these, pushing as hard as they can to get it over with. They tie it up, grimacing at the warm feel of their waste trying to float out of the bag. It is then shamefully handed over to scientists at home. They try not to blush as they give them a bag of their own waste.

I have included some sourced below if anyone is interested lol, thank you so much for the ask! This one was fun ☺️

Also I apologize if the writing is a little rushed. I wrote this earlier but the website crashed when I tried to upload it, so I had to re write the whole thing ;-;

[dontstareatmeplease]

character going commando under shorts and desperately needing a big shit. they go somewhere else and stand there as they start pooping against their will. because there's no underwear to catch it, massive logs just fall out of the legholes, plopping on the ground. it's so hard there's no need to wipe, so once they're done they just fan the air and walk away.

[gassythoughts]

Desperation farts

Does anyone else love when someone desperately has to let out their gas. Like to the point where they can't hold it in and it hurts their stomach. Bonus points if it stinks.... like wow that must have been hard to hold in huh? Sorry just horny thoughts lol

[upstbellyluvs]

librarians belly 📖 :

you trace your finger through the row of books on the shelves. old books.. new books.. books that are probably older than the building… aha! you found the one! now, time to check out.

you make your way to the front desk of the library. luckily, no one’s in line. the librarian has their back turned to you as they organize papers together on a desk. as you wait patiently, you notice their hand slides to the front of them.. as if it’s on their belly. you shrug. but then, a faint gurgle is heard.. the librarian jumps slightly and hunches. they turn their head to the side and notice you waiting. they fix clear their throat and fix their posture quickly.

“hello! s-sorry for that wait,” they apologize with a slight tint of pink on their cheeks. they brush their hair out their face.

“no worries,” you say, “i’d like to check this book out please.”

the librarian nods and takes the book to scan it. as they grab the book, a long rumble is heard. the librarian practically freezes, their eyes shut hard.

“are you-?” you try to get the sentence out before the book is quickly snatched from your hand.

“thank you!” the librarian interrupts quickly. they scan the book and start typing.

“whats your name?” they ask.

“address?”

“phone num-“ a deep, liquidly gurgle emits from their stomach just then. they lean over slightly and their hand snakes to the middle of their belly, rubbing circles. fingers dig into the fabric of their shirt as they slightly hiss.

“was that.. your stomach?” you finally get to ask. the librarian squirms in their seat, cheeks now red and eyebrows furrowed.

“s-sorry about that,” they try not to whine, “just- a bit of an upset tummy today.” they fake giggle as they get back to typing.

they’re quickly stopped again by a cramp that hits them. they huff and gasp.. an angry, bubbly grumble emits from their stomach followed by a sickly churn.

“a-ah~! hgnn~!” the librarian moans as quietly as they can, but fail..

they wrap both arms around their belly and stand up quickly.

“do you have to, uh..?” you begin

“i-i’m…!” their stomach angrily sloshes and glorps.

“o-oh god-“ their hands grab their butt, they whip around and struggle to begin moving as their legs tremble beneath them. the computer screen lights up their figure in the dimly lit library lobby. you see just how bloated their stomach is… now, it’s letting out constant churns and bubbly gurgles.

the librarian makes their way quickly to the restroom down the hallway, their belly sounds echoing off the walls followed by high-pitched moans.

you’ll be standing their for awhile…

…📚🖋️

[gurglesgasgrunts]

so thisvid is getting rid of their scat videos and there's a lot that i want to save. i found this browser and it makes downloading the videos so, so easy. like not to sound like an advertisement or anything but i highly recommend aloha

[grossgirl34]

Posting about poop againnnn:)

Really into the idea of someone going to urgent care or the ER because they genuinely haven’t pooped in so long and are in immense pain. A is scared, not necessarily because they haven’t pooped, but because they know they’ll have to poop eventually, and whatever comes out won’t come out easily.

They’ve been sitting in the waiting area for a couple hours, breathing deeply and trying to relax and ignore the stabbing pains in their gut, when they feel a tiny stirring of movement somewhere inside. It’s a sensation like something is slowly descending, working its way through their body. No fucking way, they think. No way is my body finally going to cooperate while I’m literally in the hospital waiting room. They turn to their friend B.

“I think…I need the bathroom,” A says.

B makes a sympathetic face. “I know. The doctor will see us soon and hopefully get you some medicine to help!”

A shakes their head. “No, like. I think it’s coming now.” They swallow and cross their legs tight. The feelings of panic are getting more intense as a different kind of pain starts cramping their rectal and anal muscles. Their entire lower belly is getting sore and sensitive.

B’s eyes widen. “Oh…” they both look over to the public bathroom and see an OUT OF ORDER tacked to the door. B stands up and walks over to the desk. “Hi, is there any chance my friend can use a bathroom somewhere while we’re waiting?”

The nurse shakes her head. “We ask that patients refrain from using the toilet in case the doctor needs a urine or stool sample for diagnosis.”

“No, you don’t understand, my friend came here solely because they couldn’t poop, but they’re about to, so if we can just find a bathroom we won’t need to see the doctor,” B explains in a rush.

The nurse shakes her head again. “I’m sorry, they’re already checked in. You can leave the hospital to find another restroom but you’d have to check back in if you came back.”

B groans and looks around desperately, then returns to their seats. A is sitting straight up in their chair, holding their knees together, grimacing with sweat beading on their forehead. “I can’t fucking believe it’s coming right now, of all times,” they whine. “It’s been WEEKS. Why now?!”

“They don’t have a bathroom we can use,” B says worriedly.

“Are you serious?” A goes pale and grips the chair arms tightly. B nods.

A looks at the busy waiting room at the number of bored people sitting around. They whine slightly and bounce their knees. “It hurts so bad. I feel sick.”

“We can leave,” B says. “We can drive somewhere and find a public restroom.”

“What if I don’t make it?” A says, whimpering. “If I stand up, let alone walk, I don’t know if I’ll be able to…” they gulp. “Hold it in.”

“You’ve been holding it for weeks, just wait a few more minutes,” B says, helping A to their feet. The moment their bottom leaves the chair they gasp and let out little whines of pain, thrusting themselves forward to bend at the waist.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” they whisper. B holds their shoulders and looks worriedly around the waiting room. No one is looking at them, not yet.

“Small steps, easy steps, come on now,” B urges A forward towards the front doors, which seem so far away. A inches forward, still bent double, breathing in and out deeply. “Just breathe.”

They are starting to attract glances. Every few inches, A stops dead in their tracks, their entire body tensed and quivering. “I’m trying, I’m trying to stop it,” they whine into their hands. “It’s getting harder.”

“Try to focus on something else,” B says, knowing the situation is becoming hopeless. A middle aged woman sitting feet away is watching with curiosity. An older man a couple seats down from her is laughing softly, watching them over the top of a magazine. No one seems to be taking this as seriously as A and B. B tries to ignore them.

Then, in the middle of the waiting area, in full view of everyone, A wails. “OUCH!! Oh my god, my stomach, OW!” Without thinking, only in a desperate attempt to ease their pain, A drops to their knees and falls forward onto their hands, their bum hanging inches above the ground. “B, I’m gonna-“ suddenly A’s voice deepens and goes gravelly, like their throat is constricted. “Oh, it’s coming.” A stares blankly at the tile floor, oblivious to anything and everyone around them, and feels their entire abdomen clench in on itself, squeezing a fat monster poop toward their anus. The let a moan leave their lips. The sensation of pushing relieves the pain briefly, but it returns as soon as they catch their breath.

“You can still make it,” B hisses. “Come on, stand up. You can hold it in, let’s just make it outside, come on, you can do it.” They look around. They’re drawing much attention now. Rather than concerned, onlookers seem mildly entertained, even pleased to see someone besides themselves in distress in the hospital waiting room. The older man has moved closer and is bent over slightly in his seat, eyes fixed on A’s bottom inches from the ground like he’s checking if an accident has already happened. “Can you please mind your business??” B snaps. The man ignores them.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” A whines, attempting to lift themselves up off their knees. They remain bent double, but with one hand pressed between their buttcheeks. They can feel the muscles around their opening twitching and tightening. B helps them move a couple more feet towards the front door.

Then, a wave of sickening heat hits A in the face and cascades down their body. Their vision forms a tunnel. Their ears start to ring. Suddenly they shake themselves free of B’s grasp. A’s shaking fingers grip at the waistband of their pants and start tugging them down. A feels themselves drop into a squat as their bare bottom faces the busy waiting room. The moment their full weight presses into the squat, a furiously urgent push forces a guttural grunt out of their mouth. Then they feel it — the weeks-old poop starts to enter the world. A feels cool air on their anus as it begins unwrinkling, gaping open for everyone to see.

“A, A come on, you can still-“ B watches, horror-struck, one hand on A’s upper back and the other clapped over their own mouth. From above, they can see the muscles of A’s body bearing down in extreme, rhythmic effort. It’s too late. It’s happening. The older man and the middle aged woman are laughing quietly, like this is a sitcom rerun. People from across the room are muttering to themselves, catching glances.

A nurse runs over unfolding a pee pad. She places it under A’s bottom and then brings over a package of wet wipes and hands them to B. “Do you have any curtains or privacy dividers we can borrow for just a couple minutes??” B whispers to the nurse desperately. She makes a sympathetic face.

“I looked, they’re all in use,” she says. “If you think your friend can move a couple more feet, we can try to shield them behind the desk?”

“A, sweetie, let’s try moving again,” B pipes up. They look down at A, who’s shivering in a squat position. A shakes their head silently. B pulls on their arms but A is very still.

“They’re not moving,” B tells the nurse. The nurse pales and nods. She walks away to try and distract the other patients, but A is making too much of a scene.

Instinctually, A starts pulling their pants all the way off, breathing heavy, sweating like a hog. They toss their pants aside and then their body decides it’s time to get serious. They take in a quick, deep, shaky breath and then push, the kind that announces itself with little repetitive grunts like hnng hnng hnnnnng. “It’s coming out,” they gasp, as their anus crackles all the way open, stretched and taut. B sees the blunt head of a dry, clustered stool poking out millimeter by millimeter. It retreats in and thrusts out with every guttural noise of effort from A. “Oh my god. It’s happening. I’m g-going,” A sounds petrified with shame and desperation, their voice half-strained. They stare straight forward not focused on anything, unaware that people directly across the room are watching their face twist up in effort. They can barely sense anything happening except their body’s involuntary process. “Oh my god I don’t want to poop,” they grunt as the first inch of their poop breaches their ring and begins filling the air with weeks-old stink. Then, in a whiny strained tone, “I’m pooping. I’m going poop- hmmmgggng-“ they bend forward even further, sticking their bottom upward into the air as a contraction takes hold of their muscles. “Please don’t look, hide me,” A moans as they suddenly become aware of their surroundings. They look desperately at B. “Hide me,” they beg again.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry, there’s nowhere to hide you,” they say gently. A moans fearfully and tries to bury their face in their elbow.

“So much p-poop,” A groans as they submit to their body’s urge to push again. They grunt, bear down, and feel their anus stretch around the widest section of their stool. It hurts, but there’s a slight pleasure in it, a distinct relief at being forced open while expelling waste. They mutter nonsensical, childlike observations like chants: “I’m going, I’m going, I’m going,” then, “I’m making poop, I’m finally pooping.”

Fat, dry chunks thud onto the pee pad. With every piece loosened, another wide log slides forward to take its place. B rubs their hand over A’s back as they watch, still horrified but grateful for their friend finding relief. “Gotta push,” A sputters out when another absurdly thick stool slowly stretches out their ring. “Gotta push. Pushinggg…” A choked grunt comes from their throat. B leans back to check their friend’s progress and tries to ignore the onlookers, who are murmuring more than even. B watches the pebbled tip of the log press into the pee pad with A’s long, drawn out push. “You’re doing so good,” B says. “You’re pushing it all out. Keep pushing.”

A is panting like a dog when the log snaps off and thumps down. “It’s g-getting easier,” they say. “I think…almost done…” they readjust their stance, then grab B by the arm and look up at them. B watches how A’s eyes subtly unfocus, how their lips part just slightly while they bear down. A feels a smoother, still fat and solid poop slide out of them. “Hnnngngm…” they grunt while B smiles at them. “My bottom is so sore,” they say through deep breaths. “Okay, one more push I think.”

B watches A draw in a breath and then go still, red in the face, making eye contact with a random nurse across the room. “There it is,” they grunt. A slow, wide log drops to the ground.

The nurses help clean up A’s mess and then B and A leave the hospital sheepishly. A sleeps the whole way home, one hand on their now-empty belly.

[weee99]

I’m thinking of a scenario where a very kinky couple live together. Partner A has asked for B’s complete surrender the next few days. Whatever they say, B has to do it. B enthusiastically agrees. B is a little confused when the next few days after, not much is asked of them. A drops hints that they’re planning something, teasing here and there. B is expecting some kind of typical kinky scenario, which leaves them feeling wound up. They’re excited to see what A has planned for them.

B thinks nothing of it when they’re fed progressively heavier meals, gratefully taking plates of cheesy concoctions that sit dense and heavy in their belly. A few complaints are thrown A’s way over the next few days. Their stomach feels tight, they’re gassier than normal, just feeling lousy. A provides belly rubs and sympathy. The next day is when they do it, the couples schedule is packed with back to back errands. The perfect time.

A slips a laxative into their partners morning coffee. A gentle one that doesn’t liquify the bowels, but will surely get things moving. It isn’t long till A hears B’s belly give a deep growl, their hands cover their middle and they give A a pitiful look from the passenger seat. But they don’t want to go home! They have stuff they need to do. B is still blissfully unaware, attributing the unexpected tummy troubles to bad luck.

The couple steadily makes their way through the days checklist, and B is utterly miserable. When B is out of sight they bend themselves over slightly, head down as they gasp and try to settle their tummy with frantic rubs. They’re so desperate they even give a little push, and feel their asshole wink around nothing. It’s no use, Bs tummy is too full of junk.Constipation is stretching their insides to the extreme, and it’s a very large mess for their sphincter to squeeze out. At this point A finds a nice and secluded area of the store they’re in, and beckon B over. They wobble towards A, their face looking pinched and pale, and A swiftly turns them around. They yelp as their pants are yanked down. Cold air grazes their cheeks, they feel their partners gaze burn into their ass. B can’t stop their hole twitching as A looks, who watches in fascination as their partners asshole makes kissing motions at them. A swiftly brings out a metal plug, It’s lubed with expert speed and brutally shoved into their partners ass. They gasp as they feel their load get pushed up to accommodate the toy, trying to wiggle their ass away from A. Heat burns their cheeks as they realize what their situation is. A wants to do some kinky public stuff, but B is too painfully full of shit to do this right now. B asks for the plug to be taken out while shamefully admitting their situation.

A watches with a cool expression, calmly announcing that they will be wearing that until they get home. B feels their stomach twist as they realize this is what A wants. They won’t safe word, they want to please A, but this was not a situation they expected in the slightest. B spends the rest of the trip quivering around the plug, fighting the urge to push. Their muscles grip the metal with every cramp, and they know it’d feel so so good to push. But they want to make it home. They’re not sure what A wants out of this interaction, but if they can avoid shitting themselves publicly they’re sure as hell gonna do that.

Another seize of their guts causes B to stop. It’s so harsh that they need to wobble over to a nearby shelf and brace themselves on it. A stands behind them as they grunt a little, the plug slightly pulling open their rim. The metal bobs back and forth, sucking in and out as B desperately fights their bodies signal to shit. A few more close calls later and they’ve made it back to their car, B drops themselves into the seat with a gasp. They palm at their tummy while A gets themselves situated. Now that they’re alone, B can be as noisy as they need. They immediately ask if they can take the plug out.

“What plug?” A questions with a cock of their head. B responds with a grunt, and they feel their hole yawn around the plug again. They spend the next several minute of the drive with their ass painfully open around the toy. B whimpers at the feeling, it’s like they’re shitting, but all their waste is still packed inside of them. They can’t believe that this is what A chose to do. They feel a few tears well in their eyes as another cramp looms. This time their poor ass is too tired, and with a pained cry from B, the plug pops from their ass. It lands heavily in their boxers, and their hole strings from the force it was ejected with. A heavy log wasted no time taking up the extra space the plug left. B gasped, feeling its thick tip sitting right at their hole. In a fit of desperation, B grabs the plug through their pants and attempts to thrust it back in.

Their face burns, they swear they can hear A snickering in the drivers seat. The metal plug jams against their dry asshole, squishing the turtlehead that was peaking out against it. Bs hands shake as they hold their hands against the plug, it hurts so bad to do this, but they don’t want to shit themselves! B cries out as they notice their poop is still moving, the poop simply pushing itself passed the plug. It was making a huge mess against be toy and Bs hands, and they sob as they spend the next 15 minutes slowly soiling themselves. They’re so caught up in the misery that they don’t even notice that they’ve made it home, and suddenly A is crouching next to them against the open passenger car door.

“Are you feeling sick honey? You’ve been looking awfully rough this whole ride”

Their voice drips with genuine sympathy, causing another wave of tears from B. A good at the and puts their arms around their shoulders, attempting to stand them up.

“No wait B, please don’t I’m gonna-“

B gasps as the log they’d been fighting with shoots out, leaving the same sting that the plug did. B is left exposed in the parking lot as they load their boxers with coils and coils of hot shit. They feel each log plop into their pants, weighing it down. The plug is buried at this point, dirty because B couldn’t keep their ass shut. B is crouched on the ground now and holding onto A’s legs for support. Their hole pulses with weak toots against their giant mess, and they can tell there is still much more to come. They hope A at least lets them use the toilet for the rest.

[grossgirl34]

I like it when a girl is straining and her face is red from the effort, her fat body sweaty and her anus blooming with every push, but nothing is coming, there's no poop yet despite her efforts. She's moaning that she needs to go, that her belly is full of shit and pushing and moaning like she's in childbirth, but all she's releasing are splashes of piss.

Her partner eventually moves her off the toilet to lay over their lap where they can massage her puffy hole. They have to hold her ass cheeks open so her hole is accessible. But nothing comes, despite the pushing and straining (imagine tears and sweat on her face, the noises of her crying out, grunting and low gutteral moans with each push(. Eventually she falls asleep, belly full, rectum stretched and no poop in sight. When she wakes more drastic measures will be needed.

Yess twin you really get me

I love the really desperate effortful straining that drives someone to complete indignity like that. Huffing and puffing, whining and crying, guttural grunting especially. I love the moment when someone has to act like an animal in order to empty themselves.

I also love watching the hole specifically 🥵on someone with a vagina, being able to physically see the muscles around the vagina and anus working the poop out when the person pushes. hearing someone grunt, and right at the same time, seeing their vaginal muscle clench down and their anus start to expand is SOOO GOOD FUCCCJCCJ

I’m also obsessed with hard difficult poops and constipation because it’s sort of like, a punishment that can only be earned. I guess this doesn’t apply to people with medical conditions that cause constipation, but in a person with average gut health, a big hard painful poop can only be a consequence of your own actions and food choices. That sort of makes it more humiliating. You’re reaping (pooping) what you sowed (ate) lol

But yes, as far as the details of a woman trying hard to poop, the ones you mentioned are some of my favorites… red face, sweating, hole puffed up and expanding… I also love:

• Legs shaking, or whole body shaking during a push. It’s so desperate and urgent

• Taking rapid little breaths before bearing down

• Trying to talk through a push. Starting a sentence, and her voice getting weirdly deep and strained halfway through because she starts to push.

• Her face screwing up while pushing. Eyes squinted, mouth in a grimace.

• But also, pushing with very little expression. Dead eyes, quivering cheeks, barely parted lips while bearing down with all her might.

• Having to adjust positions while pushing. Especially mid-push!! Like, pushing on all fours and then having to lift herself into a squat to give gravity an extra boost. So primal.

[grossgirl34]

What positions do you like someone pushing to poop in?

Omgggggggg so many

• On their back with legs spread and pulled back is the GOAT to me. Getting to see the pooper’s expression and how it changes as they poop is PEAKKK. It’s such a vulnerable position too and that makes it even better

• On their side, laying down, legs together, holding their bottom open while they go. This is so good to me bc it’s relaxed, casual, and almost sensual. Like it could almost be an accident, like the urge to push it out just snuck up on them while they were relaxing. Watching the hole jut out while they push like that is just so hottt

• Standing up!!! Controversial haha but I think it’s so arousing to think of someone trying so hard not to poop, standing straight up trying to hold it in, but then feeling their hole expand anyway as a fat dry poop fights its way out. I think about the pooper being forced to bend their knees slightly as they realize they’re pooping and they have no choice. They grumble and grunt and whine as they just barely tilt their hips back so the big poop can poke hard into their pants.

• On all fours with elbows on the ground is particularly hot to me in medical situations. Having your bum up in the air makes pushing a bit harder and also more engaging to watch in some ways. You’re watching the poop fight against gravity. I also think about a doctor using gloved fingers to help coax the poop out, or administering a suppository in that position.

Those are some!!! I love so many positions.

[igottadoodoo743]

The Bet and The Butt Plug

"You *actually* thought you could beat me in Mario Kart?" I snorted, tossing the controller onto the couch beside me. Jerome, my stepdad—all six-foot-five of him, built like a linebacker who moonlighted as a bear—just blinked at the screen where his character had spun out for the eighth time. His thick fingers flexed against his thighs like he was still mentally gripping the controller.

"You cheated," he grumbled, deep voice rumbling through the living room.

Jerome’s accusation hung in the air, ridiculous and delicious. I leaned back, grinning. "Cheated? You *wish*." I stretched my arms behind my head, watching his brow furrow. "But you know what this means—bet’s a bet. You lost. Rules are rules."

He exhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring like a bull scenting red. "Fine," he muttered. "What’s the damn punishment?"

I tapped my chin, pretending to consider my options even though I'd planned this the moment he'd foolishly agreed to the bet. "Well," I said slowly, watching his shoulders tense, "since you clearly can't handle anything *complicated*, let's keep it simple." His dark eyes narrowed as I leaned forward, grinning. "Butt plug. One week."

Jerome's face went completely still. Then, like a slow-motion avalanche, disbelief crept across his features. "You're *joking*."

Jerome’s massive frame tensed like a bowstring. His deep voice dropped to a growl. "You can’t be serious."

I leaned back, stretching my arms behind my head with a grin. "Dead serious." I kicked my feet up onto the coffee table, watching his nostrils flare. "And Mexican food every day. No exceptions."

Jerome exhaled sharply through his nose, arms crossing over his broad chest like he was physically restraining himself from flipping the coffee table. "Mexican *and* the—" He hesitated, jaw twitching. "The other thing."

"Yep," I said, popping the 'p' like a bubblegum bubble. "Starting tonight. Oh, and—" I reached into my backpack and pulled out the little velvet box I'd stashed there this morning. Jerome's eyes locked onto it like it was a live grenade. "Ta-da!" I flipped the lid open, revealing the silicone plug nestled inside—modest, but *definitely* noticeable. "You're gonna *love* the weighted base. Nice and... secure."

Jerome stared at the plug like it had personally insulted his ancestors. His massive fingers twitched—whether to strangle me or snatch the damn thing, I couldn’t tell—before he exhaled hard through his nose. "Fine," he grumbled, snatching the box from my hand. "But if you *ever* tell your mom—"

I clutched my chest in mock horror. "What kind of monster do you take me for?" Then, grinning, I added, "Unless, y’know, she asks *really* nicely."

Jerome disappeared into the bathroom with the velvet box clutched in his bear-like fist, muttering something about "goddamn humiliation" under his breath. I sprawled on the couch, grinning at the ceiling, listening to the muffled thumps and hissed curses through the door. When he finally emerged, his usual swagger was gone—replaced by the stiff-legged walk of a man who'd just ridden a horse for the first time. His dark cheeks were flushed, and he refused to meet my eyes.

"Aw, c'mon," I teased, tossing him a bag of tortilla chips from the coffee table. "It's not *that* bad." He caught them automatically, his scowl deepening as he realized I'd already ordered takeout from his least favorite taqueria—the one that always gave him the runs even *without* extracurricular assistance.

The first night was hilarious. Jerome sat rigidly at the dinner table, shifting his weight every few seconds like he was trying to discreetly dislodge a knife from his back. His thick fingers kept pausing mid-bite, his jaw clenching as he chewed the extra-spicy carnitas with deliberate slowness. "You're enjoying this too much," he muttered, glaring at me over his plate.

"Absolutely," I agreed, swirling my fork in the queso dip. "But hey, only six more days to go."

Day two started with Jerome shuffling into the kitchen like a man who’d forgotten how knees worked. The weighted plug had shifted overnight, and judging by the way he winced when he lowered himself onto the barstool, it wasn’t sitting *quite* right. "Sleep well?" I chirped, sliding a plate of huevos rancheros his way—extra beans, extra chorizo, just like I’d requested.

He glared at the plate like it had personally betrayed him. "You little shit," he muttered, but he picked up his fork anyway. The man had *pride*, even if his stomach didn’t.

Day three was when Jerome’s body started actively rebelling. By noon, his stomach was audibly gurgling—a deep, ominous sound, like a washing machine full of wet cement. He’d been shifting his weight from foot to foot all morning, his thick thighs tensing every few minutes as he tried—and failed—to ignore the growing pressure. “You good?” I asked, tossing him a bottle of Tums like it was a lifeline. He caught it without looking, his free hand pressing against his abdomen as another low groan escaped his lips.

“Peachy,” he gritted out, popping two tablets into his mouth like they were bullets.

By day four, Jerome’s walk had devolved into a stiff-legged waddle, his usual confident stride replaced by the cautious steps of a man navigating a minefield. His stomach had taken on a faintly rounded curve, the combination of constant Mexican food and the plug’s pressure turning his usually flat abdomen into a taut drum. I caught him pressing a hand against it more than once, his fingers sinking slightly into the soft swell before he’d force them away, like he was embarrassed to be caught acknowledging the discomfort.

“You look pregnant,” I remarked over breakfast, shoving a plate of chilaquiles smothered in verde sauce toward him. Jerome’s glare could’ve melted steel, but he still picked up his fork—slowly, like his joints ached. The first bite made his stomach gurgle instantly, a wet, sloshing sound that had him freezing mid-chew. His throat worked as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That’s... new,” he muttered, staring down at his plate like it had betrayed him.

Day five was when Jerome started making sounds. Not just the occasional grunt or muttered curse—full-body, involuntary noises that escaped him like air from a punctured tire. The plug had settled deep, its weighted base keeping everything locked tight, and the sheer volume of food he'd been forced to consume was turning his gut into a pressure cooker. I found him leaning against the kitchen counter, both hands braced on the granite, his forehead dotted with sweat as his stomach let out a long, wet gurgle that sounded like a drain unclogging.

"You look like you're about to explode," I said, tossing a bag of extra-spicy Takis onto the counter beside him. Jerome didn't even glare this time—just stared at the bag like it was a ticking bomb. His fingers twitched toward it anyway, because damn it, the man had a weakness for crunchy trash food, and I knew it. The first crunch made his stomach gurgle louder, a deep, resonant groan that had him freezing mid-chew, his eyes widening slightly.

By day six, Jerome’s stomach had taken on a life of its own—a restless, groaning entity that refused to be ignored. He moved through the house like a man haunted, his usual imposing presence reduced to a series of stiff, cautious movements. Every step sent a fresh ripple through his gut, and I could *hear* it from across the room—a wet, sloshing symphony that made his jaw clench tighter with each passing hour.

"Thought you might want these," I said, sliding a pair of sweatpants with a suspiciously stretched-out waistband across the kitchen island. Jerome eyed them like they were a trap. His usual jeans had been abandoned days ago, deemed too constricting, and even his loosest basketball shorts now dug into his swollen middle. He snatched the sweats without a word, his fingers brushing against the taut curve of his belly as he did—a fleeting touch, quickly withdrawn, like he was ashamed to acknowledge how much he’d swollen.

Day seven dawned with Jerome already awake—had been for hours, judging by the dark circles under his eyes. He was sitting rigidly on the couch, hands clamped over his distended stomach like he was trying to hold himself together. The sweats I'd given him yesterday were stretched taut across his middle, the fabric straining over the unnatural swell of his gut. His breathing was shallow, deliberate, like each inhale risked upsetting the precarious balance inside him.

"Big day," I said, tossing a fresh diaper onto his lap. Jerome stared at it like it was a live grenade. His jaw worked silently for a moment before he managed to grind out, "Absolutely not."

Jerome's fingers twitched toward the diaper like it might bite him. The plastic crinkled faintly under his grip when he finally snatched it up, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled through his nose—a bull preparing to charge. "You're *enjoying* this," he growled, low and dangerous, but the effect was ruined when his stomach let out a wet, rolling gurgle that made his thighs tense.

"Obviously," I said, tossing him the gallon of milk with a grin. It landed in his lap with a slosh, and Jerome flinched like I'd dropped a rattlesnake on him. His stomach gave another ominous groan, louder this time, the sound traveling up through his ribcage like a seismic event. He stared at the milk like it was a death sentence.

The milk jug’s condensation dripped onto Jerome’s bare thighs as he held it away from his body, like it was radioactive. His stomach let out a deep, liquid growl—the kind of sound that made *me* wince in sympathy. "Drink up," I said, nodding toward the gallon. "All of it. Unless you wanna forfeit the bet?"

Jerome’s glare could’ve melted steel, but his pride was stronger than his common sense. He twisted the cap off with a sharp crack, the plastic squeaking as he lifted it to his lips. The first swallow made his throat bob like he was choking down battery acid. His stomach *immediately* protested, a wet, sloshing sound so loud it echoed off the walls. Jerome froze mid-gulp, his free hand instinctively pressing against his swollen belly, fingers sinking into the taut flesh.

Jerome’s throat worked as he forced down another gulp, milk trickling down his chin as his stomach gave a violent heave. The sound was obscene—a deep, bubbling churn like a volcano about to erupt. His fingers dug into the soft swell of his belly, knuckles whitening as another wave of pressure rolled through him. “Fuck,” he gasped, barely managing to set the milk jug down before doubling over, his forehead pressing into his knees. The diaper crinkled pathetically between his legs, still untouched.

I couldn’t resist. Kneeling beside him, I pressed my palm flat against the curve of his stomach, feeling the chaos beneath. His skin was fever-hot, stretched tight over what felt like a water balloon seconds from bursting. Jerome shuddered, a strangled noise escaping him as my fingers traced the swollen outline of his gut. “You’re *packed*,” I murmured, grinning when he groaned in response. His stomach gurgled long and low, the sound dragging out like a dying engine.

Jerome’s breath hitched as my fingers pressed deeper into the swollen curve of his belly, the flesh yielding unnaturally under my touch. His stomach gave another wet, sloshing heave, and this time, a thin sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. “Stop—*fuck*—” he gritted out, but his protest died in a strangled gasp as I rubbed slow, deliberate circles over the taut mound. The movement sent a visible ripple through his gut, a wave of pressure traveling downward that made his thighs clamp together instinctively.

The diaper rustled as he shifted, the sound absurdly loud in the silence punctuated only by the gurgling storm inside him. Jerome’s fingers dug into the couch cushions, his knuckles white. “Gonna—*hnng*—” His voice cracked, the words dissolving into a groan as his stomach gave a violent, liquid lurch. The sound was unmistakable—a deep, rolling *glorp* that seemed to echo from his ribs to his hips. His entire body tensed, his back arching slightly off the couch as if trying to escape the inevitable.

Jerome's breath came in sharp, shallow gasps as his stomach clenched violently under my palm. His skin felt like a drum stretched to its limit, vibrating with every wet, internal shift. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as his hips jerked involuntarily—then froze. His eyes flew wide.

A sound escaped him—part groan, part whimper—as his body went rigid. The plug shifted inside him with an audible *slurp*, sliding fractionally downward before stopping again. Jerome made a noise like a dying animal, his thighs trembling as he fought to keep everything locked tight. "Oh god," he wheezed, fingers clawing at the couch cushions. "Oh *fucking*—"

The plug shifted again—slow, inexorable—and Jerome’s whole body seized like he’d been electrocuted. His thighs clamped together hard enough to make the diaper crinkle violently, but it was too late. A wet, bubbling sound seeped out from between his clenched cheeks, followed by a thick *pop* as the plug’s weighted base finally gave way. Jerome’s breath stuttered out in a choked gasp, his hands flying back to grab at his own ass like he could physically stop what was coming.

He couldn’t.

Jerome’s body betrayed him in stages. First, the initial *pop*—like a cork rocketing free from a champagne bottle—sent the plug skittering across the hardwood floor with a rubbery bounce. Then came the wet, pressurized hiss of air escaping, followed by a thick, glistening trickle that oozed down his thighs before he could even react. His hands clamped over his ass, fingers sinking into the diaper’s padding as if he could physically dam the flood, but his stomach had other plans. A deep, rolling cramp tore through him, doubling him over with a strangled groan as his guts *moved* inside him like a collapsing water tower.

The first wave wasn’t liquid. It was *chunks*—half-digested beans and tortilla fragments packed into a pasty sludge that forced its way out in a shuddering, meaty *glorp*. The sound alone made Jerome whimper, his face burning crimson as his bowels voided in slow, humiliating pulses. The diaper sagged between his legs, warm and heavy, the plastic backing crinkling ominously with each contraction. He tried to stand—to bolt for the bathroom—but his legs gave out halfway up, sending him crashing back onto the couch with a grunt. His stomach *sloshed* audibly, another cramp twisting his guts into knots.

Jerome’s breath came in ragged gasps as the second wave hit—this one liquid, a hot rush of soupy diarrhea that surged out of him with a sound like a burst pipe. The diaper’s plastic backing strained audibly, the sides stretching as it ballooned between his thighs. His fingers dug into the couch cushions, his whole body shaking as another cramp wracked him, forcing out a gurgling torrent that made his cheeks burn hotter than the salsa he’d been eating all week. The smell hit instantly—a pungent, fermented stench of milk and spices—and Jerome’s face twisted in mortified agony.

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. "Holy *shit*," I wheezed, clutching my sides as Jerome’s stomach gave another wet heave, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. The diaper sagged lower, its weight pulling the waistband down to reveal the top of his ass crack, now glistening with streaks of escaped mess. Jerome made a strangled noise, his hands fluttering uselessly over the swollen padding like he didn’t know whether to hold it up or tear it off.

Jerome’s stomach gave another violent heave, his diaphragm hitching as another gush forced its way out with a wet *splat* that visibly expanded the diaper’s sagging bulk. The plastic backing strained ominously, the seams creaking under the pressure before giving way with a faint *rrrip* near his left thigh. A thick, caramel-colored trickle immediately oozed through the gap, dribbling down his leg onto the couch cushion. Jerome’s whole body locked up, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he stared at the mess like it wasn’t part of his own body.

"Fuck—*fuck*—" he choked out, his voice cracking as another cramp twisted his guts. His hands hovered uselessly over the ruined diaper, fingers twitching like he wanted to claw it off but couldn’t bring himself to touch the warm, shifting weight. The smell had gone nuclear—a pungent, sour-butter stench of fermented dairy and half-digested chorizo that made even *my* eyes water. Jerome’s face was a masterpiece of humiliation, his dark skin flushed crimson from his forehead to his collarbones.