yummy

The seven gimmick blogs:

"did you have enough to eat?" *belch*

"is your stomach satisfied?" *burps in their face*

"is that carbonation feeling weird in your tummy?" *makes a face of discomfort and releases a soft burp*

"is your tummy feeling a little funny?" *tummy burbles and burps up a little food into their mouth*

Millie lazed on the sofa, her stuffed belly rounded out and no longer squirming. No matter how many times she'd eaten someone, she was always fascinated by what her body went through to turn them into nothing but a layer of mousey pudge.

It was interesting to think about. She'd met the otter (Geoff, as she recalled - she always made a point to learn her prey's names) at a bar earlier in the night. She knew by the way he'd been staring at her stomach, the way his hand lingered there as they danced, how he blushed as her belly growled...she knew just how much he wanted to be the one to fill her up.

When she suggested heading back to her place, he jumped at the opportunity. A smile crosses her face as she remembers that he was so wiggly on the way home, she thought he might throw off his seat belt and dive down her gullet then and there. But he was able to restrain himself until they managed to get to her apartment. Just.

Blrrrblll...glrshhh...

He almost crawled between her legs, he was so eager to get inside, Millie turning back from locking the front door for the night to find him standing there in the living room, his clothes already scattered around him. "After all," he said, "I wouldn't want to give that tummy of yours any trouble."

If she wasn't planning on having him for dinner already, that would have sealed it. She dragged him over to the couch, Millie pulling him on top of her, letting him feel the past meals she'd had supporting him. "Mmmm, you ready to join all that?" she teases, the otter quickly nodding his head as her jaws part before him.

Her stomach lets out an anticipatory growl as he reaches forward, his fingers prodding her tongue experimentally before reaching in further. As soon as his hand hit her throat, it was pulled in, the otter eagerly adding the other to it.

He practically dove down her gullet, Millie gulping and swallowing as he pushes his lithe frame into her maw. In just a few minutes, he was gone, reduced to a squirming bulge in the mouse's middle.

Grrrrooooaannnn...blllrrrbblll...glrsh, glrsh, glrsh...

And now, hours later, after being drenched in her juices and kneaded by both her hand and the walls of her stomach...he was nothing more than mush, thick otter stew almost ready to be pumped into her intestines and converted into even more jiggly pudge.

Thinking about that process, watching that squirming bulge slow, stop, round out...it was fascinating, and at the same time exhausting. Millie gave her belly a pat, watching as the impact made it slosh from side to side.

Glrrrssshhhh...slrrrsh...

She let out a long yawn before pushing herself up from the couch, her stuffed gut hanging nearly down to her knees as she waddled back to her bedroom.

you let out a satisfied belch as you lean back on my couch, your belly spilling between your legs, gurgling and sloshing loudly, you pat and rub it soothingly savouring my lingering sweet taste on your lips

I squirm and move creating bulges on your tummy, sometimes a particularly strong movement forces more burps out of you, I’m not struggling, just getting comfortable, I run my hands over the stomach walls, worshipping your belly as it breaks me down. I try to stop myself from whining or moaning but the thought of being digested into belly or ass fat is too exciting.

you taunt me, tease me for being such a prey slut which turns into telling me just how good of a little prey I am, which increases my squirming which feels wonderful on your end.

maybe you drink some soda or have some snacks along with me, but eventually you fall asleep with me still in there, as the night goes on I slowly digest and get softer and softer, becoming bat girl slush in your guts.

Instead, sitting in bed with a large, round belly, is your S/O. She looks up at you, blinking, but doesn't say anything.

"Well?" You finally ask, gesturing to the empty spot where your pillow and blanket is supposed to be.

"Sorry," She says. "I got hungry, and they smelled like you."

A low gurgle sounds from her belly. Of course, the implication is not lost on you.

They smelled like you.

Like. You don't WANT to be eaten, and you don't want your stuff eaten, either. But it had your scent on it, and she was hungry, so who are you to stop her?

Gradually, it starts to happen more often. You come home, and find her with a round, gurgling gut. Soon, the amount of things around the house is limited, and she looks at you with hungry eyes, licking her lips.

So, you panic and replace everything.

And it starts happening more often.

Many nights, you just lay awake, watching and listening as her gut breaks down yet another pillow you've bought.

Of course, this can't go on forever. You aren't made of money, after all. Soon, it happens again. Pillows, blankets, even clothes that you've used, that have your scent, disappear.

But this time, you can't replace them. You're out of money and options.

It's a lingering threat that neither of if you really... Talk about. You're not sure when it'll happen, but you're on edge - it's only a matter of time before she decides to take on a more lively meal.

You could leave. Save yourself from that kind of fate. But there's just one problem - you love her too much to leave. Even through your fear, you still find yourself admiring her form, watching as she does stuff, wanting to be close to her.

Of course, that fateful day does eventually arrive - albeit in different circumstances than you'd hoped. While snoozing peacefully, you're grabbed, and, unceremoniously, shoved into dark warmth. You're already halfway down her gullet when you finally wake up and realize your predicament. You struggle and squirm, but of course, at this point, it's useless.

A few final swallows seal you in completely. From above, you hear her let out a satisfied sigh. Then, you feel something from the outside, rubbing you, caressing you. Her breathing is heavy, and then, finally, you hear her. Her voice is heavily muffled... But the basic gist is that you're much bigger than she thought you'd be.

Preds who never realise that they’ve digested someone. Assuming that they’ve just eaten more lunch than they intended, as a way to write-off the extra fullness in their belly. They don’t know why, but they really enjoyed that meal. However, when they eat the same meal again the next day, it just isn’t as satisfying. Leaving them frustrated and confused

A pred distraught by what their own stomach did without their knowledge or permission. Maybe they didn’t realise they consumed prey in the first place, or maybe they did, but they didn’t mean to digest them - They didn’t mean to destroy the prey, but their stomach’s nature is to destroy without question. The pred agreed when they put the prey inside of it. What did they expect to happen?

Preds who are fascinated once they find out. The stomach seems to have a mind of its own. It’s almost like it’s a separate entity from the pred. And when they realise this, they feel like they’ve met someone new. They want to get to know their stomach better, by feeding all kinds of prey.

Moaning from inside as I dangled and wobbled along her undercarriage, sloshing gently in the slimy, snug space...

A farmhand would come to check up on her, and he'd see her big bulging belly and ask, "Woah! What did you eat?"

Only for her to give him an awkward, silent stare, as my muffled moaning got a bit louder, and he saw my imprints along the gut.

"Don't worry," she'd huff. "It wasn't anyone important..."

h…however……..