- mcdonald’s. i’m talking breakfast and lunch

- boneless buffalo chicken wings. hella specific but i feel like it would be amazing

- spaghetti and meatballs.

- donuts, plain so i can puke up just undigested dough and glaze

- just soda (dr pepper or mountain dew)

- old youtube challenges ie gallon challenge, capri sun challenge, sprite banana challenge

- something expired. even no hands doesn’t feel natural enough after i’ve eaten or drunk a lot. i want to eat a normal meal and feel nauseous for hours and the miserably vomit when all i want to do it sleep. i want to be shaky and feverish and keep throwing up even when im empty because my stomach is so sick

- INDIAN FOOD. curious both taste and texture wise

- a whole pizza

- rotisserie chicken and water. that’s it

- digested food. i want it to be basically liquid

- fried rice. texture and variety are interesting

- just peanut butter and bread. nothing else. not even water, if possible

- peach sweet tea

- lasagna. texture sounds amazing to throw up. especially the meet and the cheese

- weird one, but i want to try just carrots and lettuce or smg like that

- thanksgiving dinner

- just candy. i want twizzlers, swedish fish, sour candy, etc

- slushie. fast enough that it’s still cold coming up

- eggs, potatoes and toast

- firehouse sub meatball sandwich

It all started with a strange, nervous feeling in my tummy this afternoon. It felt almost like butterflies, but I didn't have any reason to feel that way...as closing time rolled around and I sat down to get some extra work in I still felt a bit odd. Slowly those butterflies in my belly started to swirl, and I started to feel a bit uncomfortable. I lightly rubbed my belly trying to help it to settle, but eventually it was too distracting and I decided I should head home. As I walked to the train station I could feel the contents of my stomach shift with each step, and I started to feel a grumbling feeling deep in my lower tummy. Now I was really feeling nervous butterflies, because I was about to do something that I knew was going to unsettle my belly even more - ride the train home.

I had stayed late enough that there weren't too many people riding, so I was able to take a seat. I had my arms resting over my stomach, trying not to be too obvious. The train started to move, and I could immediately feel the movement in my gut. With every shake of the train I could feel my tummy get more upset, every bump creating bubbles and grumbles. It started to distend, and I regretted wearing a tighter sweater today as I felt my middle swell. I looked down and could feel my ears turn red as I saw how round my poor tummy had become. All of the bouncing and swaying of the train car soon became too much, and I had to cradle my swollen belly in my hands. While the screeching wheels made it too loud to hear, I swear I could feel the growls and gurgles under my palms... I cupped my bulging lower tummy with one hand and started rubbing slow circles over my stretched sweater with the other.

I almost forgot there were other people around me until I locked eyes with a woman stepping onto the train. Her eyes glanced down to my moving hand and lingered, causing me to freeze and turn bright red. Again, that nervous butterfly feeling returned, and it definitely wasn't a good addition to the bubbling mix in my belly. How embarrassing, being caught with a swollen middle, rubbing and nursing a tummy ache...I felt so vulnerable in that moment. After that, I counted down the seconds until my stop came.

When I stood up I could feel the heaviness of my stomach settle onto my hips, and I cradled my lower belly the entire way home.

when there’s that really slow loss of control: 

the progression from tinges to nausea that can be ignored to waves of nausea that can’t, that have the sickie nearly doubled over in pain as their stomach starts to gurgle audibly

then they start quietly belching and hiccuping, coughing occasionally to try and get rid of the nausea at the back of their throat, maybe spitting out some saliva – and they feel bad, quite bad, at this point; they’re feeling the nausea starting to crest but they’re still mostly in control, they can still talk and move and think relatively clearly

and then they start to lose that coherence as they feel sicker and sicker. they’re talking from behind a wall of nausea, having to hold it back just to get the words out. increasingly, they can only think about and feel their nausea and the side effects of it – the churning of their belly, chills, hot flashes, fuzziness, cramps

and then they gag for the first time – maybe it’s shallow and quiet, maybe it’s loud and deep, but it escalates that feeling of not being able to control what’s happening; the sickie is at the mercy of their sickness now, waiting for the inevitable

they’re dry heaving and retching now, and they can feel each one coming but they can’t do anything about it; their body is lurching forward without their consent, and all they can do is hope relief comes soon, hope that rubbing their tummy or chugging water or anything will help make that happen but all they can do is wait as their body takes over

and then that moment when they finally start to get sick – maybe only a trickle of bile or watery sick comes up or maybe they immediately bring up a long wave of sick, but either way it takes them by surprise; the shift from about to be sick to actively getting sick shocking them, bringing a whole new host of painful sensations and body mechanics that they didn’t ask for and can’t do anything about

they completely fill themselves up on icee / slurpee the entire time. walking around with a huge filled gut with all the slush and sugar inside. i wonder how loud and absolutely bubbly their belly would be. if you could slosh it all around inside as you rub it and it letting out angry gurgles in response ~

(Your wish is my command. And with that, it's finally done!! -Nico)

----------

Randy got a potion on Friday, advertised to help make kinky fantasies reality. Randy didn't expect the shopkeeper to know his most secret kinks, or this potion to actually work any kind of real magic, but he didn't see the harm in trying. With the potion and his usual couple bottles of charmed wine, he headed home to enjoy his alone time by getting tipsy and stuffing himself. Something about filling his belly practically to bursting had never failed to get him hard. And overdoing it and having to lose his meal wasn't exactly a turn-off either. To his disappointment, he didn't end up vomiting that night, and went to bed with a full belly.

Randy woke up feeling so awful, he considered not working that day. His stomach was still swollen from the night before and churned ominously. He gagged a few times over the bathroom sink, and spat. "Uhhnn." Even now, nothing was coming up. What a pain - he couldn't get this nausea last night, when he actually wanted it? Maybe the nausea would go away with time. He sighed and started getting ready for his job: a small hot dog stand at the mall he manned on weekends.

A few hours into the workday, Randy was really regretting showing up. The mall was practically vacant; he hadn't sold more than three dogs this whole time. And his stomach was really bloated and upset now. Trapped under his too-tight pants and uniform apron, it gurgled, its contents feeling as thick and heavy as a pot of chili.

"Ughh...."

The thought of food made his stomach churn worse. The smell of the hot dogs and sides arrayed on his stand didn't help either. Randy groaned and rubbed his stomach to try and soothe it. Hot flashes of nausea ran through his body as sweat rolled down his back. The sensation actually made his dick throb and get a bit hard under his uniform. So the potion did work, it just took way longer than he expected.

Well, fuck it. Nobody's around to see anyways, Randy decided. He let out a small belch, moving his other hand down to stroke himself slowly. His stomach clenched and he felt the contents shift and bubble quietly. It felt thick and heavy and vile, like too-old cheese sauce.

"Grrk-" Randy gagged softly. Thinking about food was really making him sick. He kept rubbing, visualising the nastiest, thickest, puke-worthy foods he could think of. Room temperature mayonnaise....mashed potatoes.....refried beans...Randy got really into fantasizing all those heavy, thick foods churning in his gut, rumbling under his hand, trying to rush back up his throat...

He burped again, and his mouth filled with salty saliva. "Ohhh...." he swallowed and groaned. The nausea tripled instantly, and his dick twitched in his hand. "Fuck....ghh, oh fuck me..." Randy burped again and tasted bile. He straightened up and took a few deep breaths. Midway through one, his shoulders hitched and he doubled over involuntarily and spewed onto the counter.

"HhhhrrrrRRBLLL!" hot, thick puke bubbled from his lips with barely any effort. "Ghh...ohhh, oh god..." Randy moaned. "Hhh....urrrp!" He belched, leaning onto the counter again as dizziness washed over him. He closed his eyes and let another wave of sick surge up and out of him. "HhuueEHH--" It was thick and brown and nasty, splattered all over his basket of buns. They were totally ruined now, covered in his sick and soaking the vile liquid in. He threw up on them again, adding insult to injury.

"Ohhhh..." he moaned and pushed his hips against the stand. It put pressure on his stomach and he spewed again. Vomit started to spill over the meager counter space. It dripped onto his shoes and seeped into the hot water the franks floated in. Randy retched and a spurt of bile came out, running down his chin and neck. "Urrp- ghh. Ohhh, oh my god." Nausea and arousal mingled in overwhelming waves.

He thrust against the stand again, trying to vomit again. Nothing came up this time. His stomach was clearly not empty - it was swollen to huge size, clenching and gurgling miserably. But after the first explosive few waves, Randy was stalled. He whimpered a little. His whole body ached. He needed to empty his stomach.

"Hic-grk. Uhhnn..." Randy hiccuped, and stuck two fingers in his mouth, sliding way back down his tongue. His body clenched in a harsh gag reflex and he felt a thick glob of sick trying to get up his throat. He gagged and spat, trying to get it out.

In desperation he reached into the murky hot-dog-and-barf water and grabbed a frank. It had a few chunks stuck to it, which made his stomach lurch. Good. He took a breath and then started gagging himself on the warm length of the frank. It was coated in the sickly-sour taste of his vomit. "Mmm - oh, hurrrppp! Ghhh. Bleeeeuhh!!" he gagged a few times before a substantial amout of puke spewed out, all over his hand and the counter.

"Ohhh....uhhn." Randy leaned forward again, resting his full weight on his bloated stomach, and kept face-fucking himself with the hot dog. More and more vomit gushed from his lips. He moaned and shuddered, close to finishing. "Hurrp!" He burped, and then pushed the frank deep down his throat. His back arched, stomach tensing and sending puke spraying out of his mouth as the arousal peaked, and he came in his pants.

when there’s that really slow loss of control: 

the progression from tinges to nausea that can be ignored to waves of nausea that can’t, that have the sickie nearly doubled over in pain as their stomach starts to gurgle audibly

then they start quietly belching and hiccuping, coughing occasionally to try and get rid of the nausea at the back of their throat, maybe spitting out some saliva – and they feel bad, quite bad, at this point; they’re feeling the nausea starting to crest but they’re still mostly in control, they can still talk and move and think relatively clearly

and then they start to lose that coherence as they feel sicker and sicker. they’re talking from behind a wall of nausea, having to hold it back just to get the words out. increasingly, they can only think about and feel their nausea and the side effects of it – the churning of their belly, chills, hot flashes, fuzziness, cramps

and then they gag for the first time – maybe it’s shallow and quiet, maybe it’s loud and deep, but it escalates that feeling of not being able to control what’s happening; the sickie is at the mercy of their sickness now, waiting for the inevitable

they’re dry heaving and retching now, and they can feel each one coming but they can’t do anything about it; their body is lurching forward without their consent, and all they can do is hope relief comes soon, hope that rubbing their tummy or chugging water or anything will help make that happen but all they can do is wait as their body takes over

and then that moment when they finally start to get sick – maybe only a trickle of bile or watery sick comes up or maybe they immediately bring up a long wave of sick, but either way it takes them by surprise; the shift from about to be sick to actively getting sick shocking them, bringing a whole new host of painful sensations and body mechanics that they didn’t ask for and can’t do anything about

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know

Everything about this, chef kiss