My first bloating audio... I decided to chug approximately 1.5 liters of sparkling water. Enjoy this recording with lots of burps, panting, whimpering, and stomach noises ^^ It gets better as it goes on! Now I just need someone to rub my tummyyy...
Mmmghdgdhbdhdhdg there’s nothing cuter than when an upset tummy makes a guy all whiny and vocal about how uncomfortable it feels… repeating how “he ate waaay too much” and how his belly “is SO full,” clutching his distended gut; burping and groaning. And of course those those classic lines that get you every time, hearing them out loud; “ohhh my tummy…” “it hurts…”
Bonus points for any self-soothing belly rub action, watching them slip a hand under their shirt (hehe, if you’re lucky this is when you might be able to spot a little bit of belly bloat sticking out) and wince as they weakly try to massage out the waves of sickness rolling through their guts.
Makes me weaaaak seeing him rendered helpless over all that trouble his poor tummy is stirring up inside 💘💘
i keep seeing things and going "that should make them throw up" like sure mr. emeto i bet your opinion is not biased at all. anyways everyone should make characters vomit. for me
From yesterday, after having like one sip of coffee. Almost 4 full minutes of uncontrollable dry heaving, this time loud asf bc I could not keep it down 😭 This wasn’t even the worst of it, like ten minutes later it happened again but for even longer. Truly haven’t felt so nauseous on an empty stomach maybe ever bc this was brutal 🥲🤢 but I am glad I got vids of it for y’all hehe
I caught the other time on video too… if anyone is interested in seeing it dm me :)
Thursday, 7:53am.
The morning is starting slow. Your alarm has gone off four or five times, dreading you out of a bleary comfort your pillows and duvet have afforded you. You have to get up, you have to put your feet on the floor and stand. You have thirty minutes to get presentable and leave before you're late for work. You have the same routine every morning, yet somehow you forget to take your meds three times before you finally remember. The aching dread that comes at the end of the week has begun to settle over you; you're less focused, drawn to scrolling on your phone while you bluster through your morning routine hazardously. You stayed up too late last night, you're regretting your decision. You don't want to go to work today, but you can't call in. Typical Thursday.
8:37am
You're running a little behind, but if you're lucky and don't hit too much traffic, you should be able to make it to work on time. You managed to make yourself a coffee and microwave breakfast burrito to eat on the way in. Your stomach growls and saliva pools under your tongue. You didn't eat quickly enough after taking your meds, the nausea starts to kick in. You cough a few times, swallow your spit down and pray. You force yourself to take a few large sips of your coffee, hoping that the calories from the creamer will be enough to settle your stomach. You start your car and take a bite of the burrito. It's the end bit, so it's mostly tortilla and a bit of egg. You try not to be disappointed as you back out of your parking spot and begin off to work.
8:58am
You're just in time for work. You won't have time to make it to your computer before 9:00, but you're on company property so you can clock in on your phone. You let yourself sit for a second before going inside. You're feeling restless; it's just anxiety about being late, your boss has been in a bad mood lately and you don't want to upset him. Your music on the way in was too loud, but the silence was even worse. Your breakfast burrito didn't actually heat through all the way and turned you off from the idea of eating entirely. Your coffee is too sweet, you poured too much creamer into it this morning, but you'll survive. You feel off, but you convince yourself that's just because you're tired.
12:23pm
You're exhausted, and you blame it on the stupid burrito. Your boring office job is exactly that, boring, but spending the day at a computer answering emails and redirecting phone calls was better than physical labor on days like today. Your stomach has been grumbling all day, but you're not really hungry, nothing sounds particularly good. You had a sleeve of graham crackers in your drawer at work, you've had a few this morning. They're good dipped in coffee, but both are rather dehydrating. Your favorite coworker came in with a big gulp full of nugget ice and gave you half. The cold water has been nice, but it's done little to solve how dry your mouth has been. You've made a cup of ramen for lunch, you're hoping that the warm and the salt will help you get through. Cup noodles aren't exactly your ideal lunch, but it's the least amount of effort and the least amount of chewing you can do, so you settle for it. You manage about half before your lunch break is over and you bin the remains.
2:00pm
You hate this meeting. You hate this meeting so much. This is the most this could have been an email meeting you've ever attended in your entire life. It's virtual, which is good you suppose because that restlessness from this morning is back. You can look composed on camera, but your feet are tapping and you're not sure what exactly is wrong. You're thankful that you don't have to do much talking in this meeting, but the ramen did little to fix the dry mouth situation. If anything all the sodium bloated you. You've been to the bathroom three times trying to get rid of some of it, but all the liquid remains sloshing around in your stomach. You stifle a burp behind your fist and try to concentrate.
4:45pm
Your boss left fifteen minutes ago, so you're going to leave fifteen minutes early. The sloshing in your stomach hasn't gone away, and you're too embarrassed to ask a coworker for antacid. You want to get out of here early, try to get home before the traffic gets too horrible. You just want to go lie down.
5:20pm
You toe your shoes off as you lean against your door because you know that if you bent over right now you might be sick. The last ten minutes of your drive have been stressful, your stomach hasn't been enjoying the stop and go of traffic. You've been trying to keep it settled with breathing and small sips of your cold water, but your burps have been getting wetter and wetter. The three flights of stairs up to your apartment have done little to settle your stomach, and you are so thankful that you've made it home before getting any worse. You make your way to your bedroom and get out of your uncomfortable work clothes in exchange for your largest and most comfortable pajamas. You feel another burp ripple up through your chest, but your hand springs to your mouth when your stomach heaves. The back of your throat is cold, water unsettled from the drive home. You know things aren't going to get better, you make your way to the bathroom.
You settle onto the bathroom floor, a shiver running up your spine as you lift the toilet seat lid up. You run your hand over your bloated stomach and the groan that leaves your mouth is involuntary. You burp once, twice, three times. They're wet, but have no power. Your stomach gurgles under your hand, that shiver returns. You burp again, deeper this time. You're nearly sick, but nothing more than some spit comes out. You wonder how long it will be before your stomach finally gives way. The restlessness has not left you all afternoon, you know you need to stay planted but you're itching to move. Your hands run along your stomach as you hover in front of the toilet bowl, trying your best to relieve your aching stomach of the gas that's been building. It hurts, you moan. You burp once more, wetter, and the liquid in your throat doesn't choke off or leave. You can't cough, so you heave, and a torrent of cold water splashes down into the toilet below you. You try to catch your breath, but a bubble of air has rolled from your belly button and up through your esophagus. You burp, and more liquid erupts and splashes below you as your stomach heaves twice.
You try to catch your breath, but the contents of your stomach have shifted. The pressure in your chest is trying to keep your throat closed. There is a pressure growing in your stomach, your hand along its side can feel the way the liquids don't seen to slosh anymore, but stand ready for expulsion. You gulp down a breath of air, you burp. There is silence where you're waiting for a breath, but the pressure in your stomach has grown and it has won. You heave once, then twice. There's noodles in this one.
You have a moment to catch your breath. You're able to fill your lungs for the price of a belch, but a harmless one. Dry, forceful, and short, you hope they help regain balance in your stomach, but after only two or three belches liquid found their way up. You burp up a mouthful, your tongue dangling with drool. You think you've cured your dry mouth from all this morning before your stomach retches and forces out more than you knew had been inside of it. You struggle to catch your breath and force up a few smaller waves as you try and clear your throat. Your stomach aches, and you try to settle. You haven't eaten much today, there is no way you can have any more in your stomach to vomit up. Still, you're not confident enough to leave your position in the bathroom yet.
You feel weak, hot and cold at the same time, and you know that even though it made no sense, more was to come. You burp, and your stomach retches some more liquid up. You wonder when this was from, how it got here. It's warm and a little bitter, but it doesn't hurt your throat in the way coffee or bile would. You breathe heavy and your stomach gurgles again. You put your hand on your stomach and feel how unsettled it is. You begin to burp, and you can not stop. One after the other, you're choking on them and then another torrent of vomit, followed by a second so powerful your face is halfway down the toilet bowl. You breathe, you heave, you spit into the bowl. You're a little bit dizzy, but as you breathe and steady yourself, you feel as though the worst of it might be over.
You spend several more minutes on the floor of your bathroom making sure your stomach was truly finished, and you begin to feel much better. You wonder what had kept it so upset in the first place.
2:36am
The ripple that tears its way through your gut is both an auditory warning of what's to come and a pain that sends you curled into yourself. Your body feels heavy, as does your stomach. You took it easy last night, you ate soft foods-mashed potatoes and some pasta. You drank water, you took it slow. You were feeling fine tonight. Throwing up earlier had really helped, but now you're not so certain that assessment was accurate. Your stomach feels hard, and it flinches when you run your fingers along it. Your feet spring to action, you know you don't have much time and you'd rather not get sick in your bed or on your floor. You feel your throat trying to open up, prepare itself for the sick that will be making its way up momentarily. You try not to think about it too much, you settle onto the bathroom floor again.
Things are quiet. For several seconds things are quiet as you hover in the darkness over the bowl of your toilet. Your stomach hangs heavy, though it continues to twitch, trying to heave itself higher. Your mouth hangs open and you let out a little whine. Your stomach contracts, and several waves of sick force themselves out of you. You settle, but only momentarily. Your stomach heaves again, and more sick spews out of you without you having much say in the matter. You hope it will be over soon, you hope it will make you feel better.
You heave two more times. Your stomach hurts. You throw up again, but it's forced, a mouthful of half digested mush forcing its way upwards. A deep burp forces its way up, and with it a thick stream of carb heavy sick. You burp again, you retch some more, you try and catch your breath. Your stomach heaves and forces more spit up. Your brow is sweaty, your legs are weak. You lie down on the floor, you appreciate how cold it is. You think perhaps spending the night here would be a good idea.
Got so sick earlier, I managed to pull myself out of the bathtub and record on time, but I did get my phone a little wet.
I was feeling off ever since lunch, I think I might’ve eaten something bad. I holed up in my room all day nursing this tummy ache. My stomach was so bloated it was hard and painful to the touch, so I decided to take a warm bath to get more comfortable. My stomach felt so sick, every time I burped and released air, a felt my lunch crawl up my throat.
I wasn’t able to enjoy the warm water for long, because as soon as I got situated, my stomach hitched and I let out a sickly belch, quickly leaning over the side of the tub as a measly strand of sick escaped my throat. I started salivating, and my stomach flipped. I quickly got out of the bathtub and dried off, with only seconds to spare, I hit record on my phone and braced myself in front of the toilet, panting and drooling into the disgusting water below.
When I tell you I SPEWED that shit I am not joking. I’m so glad I caught that on video, my stomach was contracting so much it hurt, and my cheeks kept ballooning with every heave. It got everywhere. I’m still so bloated, but the nausea is thankfully gone (for now).
I ate my lunch to quickly today and my tummy was not happy with me at all 🫠. My tummy started bloating up and I could feel every single rumble, gurgle, and burble rip through me 😭. And the urge to burp was so bad but nothing would come up so now I’m stuck here trying to soothe my hurting tummy to no avail 🥲.
Super Self Indulgent Post I Thought Of While Driving Today 🚗🍣
Driving your boyfriend on a mountainous, poorly paved back road. You’ve got a two hour drive ahead of you, and you stopped for lunch at a gas station about thirty minutes ago. Your boyfriend opted for the dreaded gas station sushi, a suspicious little bento box with seaweed salad and a spicy salmon roll, while you had something a little less risky…and probably something that hasn’t been sitting in a poorly refrigerated case for a week.
You talk as you drive, flicking your eyes occasionally to the passenger’s side. Your boyfriend is beginning to sound distracted, giving you one word answers. You ask if everything is okay, and that’s when he says with a thick swallow and a low, sheepish voice, “I think that sushi was a little off.”
You tense up against the steering wheel. Uh oh.
Your boyfriend stays rigid against his seatbelt, as though he’s afraid that any sudden movement will trigger him to feel worse. You quickly turn your head to flash a full glance at him. Though you’ve seen it in cartoons, you’ve never actually seen someone turn green…and to top it off, he’s clammy with a sexy, sickly sweat. You’d turn on the air conditioning if it wasn’t broken.
You’ve been dating for a decent amount of time, yet you’ve never discussed things of this nature, these…bodily discomforts. You don’t want him to feel anymore embarrassed than he already is, so you coyly ask if he’s feeling it upstairs or downstairs.
“I don’t know.” He shuts his eyes and starts breathing in and out at a steady rhythm to keep himself under control. You wonder if you should pull over somewhere, but there’s no shoulders on these mountain highways…and probably no gas station for quite a while. What to do? What to do?
You suggest cracking a window to get some fresh air, and he agrees. You ask your phone to direct you to the nearest gas station, and it tells you that you’ve still got 30 minutes on this bumpy stretch of road. Your boyfriend audibly groans at this information, and you ask if he’ll be able to make it. You suppose he doesn’t have a choice.
You’re trying to make these 30 minutes go fast, so you find yourself hitting the gas and passing other cars (something you practically never do, unless someone is really, really slow). With every pothole and bump and twisty turn, you wince in solidarity. They really need to do something about these back roads.
Your boyfriend has fully folded in on himself, clutching his stomach and cupping his forehead. He’s concentrating. Hard.
“Are you hitting every bump on purpose?” he snaps. You instantly apologize, and after a moment so does he. He doesn’t mean to have an attitude. He knows you’re doing the best you can…but the situation is getting dire.
He breathily says that he doesn’t feel good, and now you’re in full panic mode, too. You feel like you’re reaching some kind of crescendo. There’s no way in hell that sushi’s staying down. He holds a curled fist to his mouth as the uneven asphalt makes your car bounce. You tell him to just breathe, you’re only five minutes away from the gas station…
But unfortunately, it’s too late.
His cheeks swell. Your car is so old that it still has a hand crank. He cranks the window down and shoves his head out. You hear him retching like a sick dog, unproductively…until finally…he’s…productive.
As you near the gas station, he puts his head back in the car, absolutely humiliated and exhausted. You pull into a parking space. You ask him if he wants you to come in with him, and he shakes his head no. You respect this. Somethings are just between a man and his toilet. You tell him you’ll find some medicine for him as he’s fumbling to undo his seatbelt. With a door slam, you watch him rush into the gas station. He bumps into several different people on his way in.
You trail behind him slightly, on a mission to find all the essentials. You grab him a bottle of ginger ale, a pack of peanut butter crackers to nibble on, and then wander to the medication aisle. You pick up bottles, reading symptoms: relief from upset stomach, nausea, heartburn, indigestion, and diarrhea. Sounds about right.
After paying, you knock on the men’s bathroom, interrupting your boyfriend’s burping and heaving.
I’ll be in the car, you say. Take your time.
You sit in the car for a good 20-30 minutes. Just as you’re starting to get worried, you boyfriend opens the car door, looking defeated but with a little more color in his face. You joke that you were about to send in the search and rescue squad to find him. You ask if he’s feeling better.
“Much better.” he says. “I think I got it out of my system.”
You’re glad to hear this, and give him his “presents,” though he declines the medicine since he’s feeling so much better.
You continue your drive, thinking the worst is behind you. After about ten minutes on the road, your boyfriend starts to fidget in his seat
hot chocolate is such a horny food it's a yummy thick cup of everything good and warm that will make you sooo comfy and drowsy and leave you vulnerable to having your tummy kneaded while you're drinking it. btw
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