Tags: Full Body Inflation, Stuffing, Female Inflation, Messy Popping
Text: After little debating, she slid the tube into her mouth and turned the knob gently in a widdershins fashion. A trickle of liquid slid out and filled her cheeks until she swallowed. Continuously she did this until the plump middle of her stomach ripened more so, ironing out the creases in the fabric of her top.
Content for the moment, she rotated the handle clockwise to shut the hose off. A round, water-filled belly bulged forward like a soft peach. The sound of water splashing back and forth across the confines of her stomach accompanied her soft, barefoot steps back into the kitchen. The pillowed padding of her thighs and hips joggled mildly while the bare flesh of her backside dimpled and rippled in her thong panties.
She was certain to get notice after the feat she attempted that muggy, summer evening. Gurgling gently, she stood before the man who absently, yet vigorously, pushed buttons and moved thumb-sticks back and forth, coinciding with the movements of a small man in red overalls jumping about on the television screen. Resting on his stomach on their bed, his unwavering attention to the screen brought again to the surface loneliness and misery in her. She discretely swiveled her hips in effort to bring about the muffled splash of water in her middle to seize his attention. Her only response was the man in red using a turtle as a springboard to hit a floating square of brick. She sighed in frustration and trudged off into the kitchen.
Wrappers and wooden sticks hit the ground at a rapid pace as she devoured a box of dark chocolate ice cream bars and cast the remains aside. An empty carton of orange sherbet followed, accompanied by the clatter of a vacant pie tin and the rustle of tortilla chip bags. The paining mound rising up from her midsection objected audibly as the final bite of éclair slipped down her throat.
Stifling a much-needed belch, she moved ponderously to the bedroom once again. In her hand clutched a two-liter bottle of cola. Standing scant inches away from his arm, she twisted the cap from the bottle. Carbonation hissed into the air and rivulets danced out of the opening like fireworks. The sound of fizzing was capped by her lips as she guzzled the soda. Despite the freshly opened beverage burning her throat and nose, she was determined in her actions. The soft mass of her tummy gradually bulged enough to be tickled by the hair of his arm. Swallowing the contents of the bottle in one grisly quaff, it made large her stomach enough to press against his skin. He pulled his arm over and scratched where her stomach once touched it, then came to the revelation that the red-hued man needed to seek his princess in another fortress.
Her pride huddled to the center of her brain that demanded she cause the ignoring offender bodily harm, coaxing her to relax and continue another route to find his affection again.
There was no content in the strain her stomach cause. Filled beyond any capacity deemed enough, her satiated form showed no sign of room for the box of breakfast cereal it only just accepted through its esophagus. A torrent of milk gave chase, rushing down and stretching stomach walls further apart. Outwardly, her stuffed belly bulged over the fabric of her skimpy undergarment, the navel reaching toward crotch level.
Another few bites and the cream-sandwich cookies would become extinct, experiencing an afterlife within the throbbing center of her body. She was barely able to keep her balance after ridding a plastic envelope of its deli-sliced ham and draining the contents of another milk carton. Attempting to rub the globular mass of her stomach was futile; the discomfort was too severe; its contents were too great.
Breathing heavily, she stood before him once again. Her tummy grumbled and growled like a cornered housecat. The man on the television screen leapt into the air to snatch a glowing star that had been bouncing out of his reach. Then iridescent, the pixilated protagonist rushed headlong into a score of walking mushrooms and sent them flying.
The mental anguish outweighed the physical, and she circled back to the start of her attempts. She once again turned the garden hose and slipped the metal nozzle into her mouth. The stream was paced enough for her to swallow in large gulps. The pain of her stomach filling beyond human capacity was minimal as she waddled back into the house, trailing the hose behind.
She strained to sit down on the thick padding of her derrière as her legs grew too weary to support her gradually duplicating girth. Outward over her lap went her stomach, sloshing loud enough to drown the tinny music issuing forth from the television speakers. Coming to lie on her back, the weight of her water-filled stomach pushed down on her lungs and she struggled to pull air through her nostrils. She watched the pinkish dome rise higher until the ache was enough to force her eyes closed. On the TV screen, the man in red slid down a flagpole and entered the castle before him.
She swelled preposterously large, her stomach akin to time-lapsed photography of a ripening fruit. It pushed her breasts over onto her face and pinned down her legs. She grew rounder, like a bubble, a blister, a human water-balloon, as her stomach rose like the sun over the horizon.
The man in red sped underneath the dragon-like monster as it bounded into the air, gouts of flame slipping past its fangs. The stout character dropped an axe on the support holding up the bridge. Down the monster fell and into the waiting arms of his princess the small man in red overalls lunged. Triumphantly, the man in front of the television screen pulled out the miniature headphones fixed in his ears that attached to his music device. Yawning and stretching, he rose up from his prone state and scratched his scalp. The oscillating fan felt heavenly on his flushed face. He leaned closer, his sigh sounding mechanical in origin when slipped out before the spinning plastic blades. The urgent groans and deep sloshing from behind him were dulled and muted by the fan's hum as he basked in the cool air.
The urge to vomit never warned her to stop her consumption as it had in the past. She was far past that point. She was far past the point where she could contain anything beyond the slightest intake of air. Yet she continued to swallow the continuing stream of water.
There was no warning as her limit was surpassed. The noise was loud enough to startle him to his feet and the cool splash of liquid was confusing enough to leave him boggled. Their bedroom was reduced to an abattoir, bits of flesh and insides draped about like meat in a butcher shop. She finally gained his attention and affection as he cradled her head and called for help.
He lost her attention forever as her consciousness slipped away and her remains flooded the room.