florian

How much pasta did you make? Five boxes? Six? Seven? You didn’t even measure as you made the sauce, dumping ingredients in the huge stock pot in ratios you know by heart.

How much pasta is swirling in you now? The pot still has a quarter left, but your stomach is rebelling. You pant as you clutch at your distended stomach, it’s curves visible where it hangs from your ribs. You can feel the contents sloshing and churning, and you whine through the belches as you massage it. You’re so fucking full, so heavy with pasta and creamy sauce that is so so delicious. You can’t fit anything else but you’re not full yet, there’s still room, you know there must still be room.

You struggle to reach the pot, unable to sit up around the enormous belly hanging off you. You pull it into your lap and shove both your hands deep into the pile of still warm pasta. Your face is flushed the same red as your gut, every inch of you hot with arousal, digestion, and effort. Every swallow makes your stomach tighter, tighter, tighter but you can’t stop yourself. It’s too good, it’s not enough, it’s too much it’s too much. Ohhhhhhmmmmmmm you’re so stuffed but you can’t stop eating. Your belly heaves with the force of every swallow, no stretch left and only pressure. Building pressure, it’s so fucking tight oh god you’re going to burst but it’s still not enough.

The pot is empty and you let it fall to the ground in your desperate scrabble for the nearly untouched liter of soda. Each gulp feels like a shove to get down, but you’re so thirsty. Your stomach shakes with growls and whines, and you moan with it as you drain more into its depths. The skin is shiny and hard and you feel like you swallowed concrete and it’s so gooood. It’s so full, oh god you’re so full, you can’t believe how enormous you are. You gulp desperately. You need to be bigger, heavier, tighter. Ahhhhhmmmmm you’re so tight. Pain lances across your stomach but you keep drinking, the pressure keeps growing, it’s hard to breathe. It’s unbearable but it’s incredible.

He almost made it home... Almost 😔

imagine being in close quarters with a crush/fc of yours. they tell you they've been drinking lots of water lately to improve their hydration. you can instantly tell how much they've been drinking from the amount they're peeing: large, hissy pees every hour or so.

you're sat on the couch, and they go 'surely i don't need to go this bad already?'. they head to the bathroom, and, sure enough, they're gushing into the porcelain bowl, letting their overactive bladder deflate.

they're so used to peeing on the hour at this point, that their desperation when they miss a pee break doesn't come as a surprise to either of you. maybe you're both on a roadtrip, or out and about in town, or just at home watching a movie and are too comfy to move. they just can't stop writhing around, trying to downplay their desperation, telling themselves 'i'm an adult. i can hold my piss for longer than an hour', when, you know that, in this state, they're not making it to the next hour dry.

you think of the ending... do they wet themselves, completely humiliated, a piss larger than their hourly ones soaking through their clothing shamelessly? or do they somehow make it to a toilet for the next hourly pee, and they don't stop talking about their bladder bulge, not knowing that it drives you crazy?

now imagine someone who has been holding for a month or so now, they've lost count of the days by now. they've either been forced by a lover who just wants to see their vulnerability in its rawest form, or maybe a little twisted wire in their brain makes the feeling of an overly full bladder pleasurable for themselves.

each day is almost torturous for them. they've always been known to have a huge bladder capacity — peeing is a very rare occurance for them — however, this is a whole new story. their bladder bulges out, almost like a shelf, making them look pregnant. because of this, they have to wear dresses/trousers with loose waistbands, fearing that even the slightest bit of pressure around their full abdomen will cause the ocean of pee to hiss out of them.

their peehole aches needily, fluttering each time they sit and push on their bladder accidentally. daily tasks like showering, cleaning, exercising have become agonising, even leaving tiny (and unrelieving) wet spots on their clothing closer to the end of the month.

with the scenario of a lover forcing them to do this... they press on their bladder "accidentally", poking and prodding the dense and tough ball of hot liquid in their lower abdomen. towards the inevitable end of the hold, each poke causes a leak to gush into their clothes, but no matter what pained noise leaves their lips, their lover denies them relief.

now imagine the end of the hold. maybe the person's out somewhere: shopping, university, a friend's house, public transport. they can tell that they're nearing the end of their hold. although the pride they feel when their bladder bulge is praised/compared to a pregnancy bump, they know that their body will give out at any point. the worst thing is... due to the low frequency that people use the bathroom in this reality, they're not readily available anywhere. and they can tell that they're going to lose it any second.

peehole fluttering, leaks gushing out into their clothes every few seconds, the person's reduced to a shaking, blushing mess, knees buckling with the weight of their overfilled bladder. they either miraculously find a quiet corner where they can peacefully let out a whole month's worth of urine (and are soon found by onlookers of the huge puddle of pee that's slowly making its way into the public, revealing the person's sick interests).

...or, their bladder's had enough. pain shoots up through them with every attempt of a step forward towards a quiet corner... it's useless. the month's worth of urine is coming out now, no matter if they try to stop it or not. they crouch down, gallons and gallons of hot piss hissing out onto the linoleum floors of a mall/university classroom, or they put their head into their hands as they gush helplessly into the plush seating of a friends' bed/couch or a seat on public transport.