Ooo Thats Exactly How I Feel Rn I Fell Back Asleep Only To Wake Up To An Even Bigger Mess, But I Dont.

ooo that’s exactly how i feel rn 😩 i fell back asleep only to wake up to an even bigger mess, but i dont. feel like getting up. My tummy is so gurgly and full still, i dont wanna move, just wanna fill my panties up even more. I did accidentally wake myself up a few times with how loud and wet my farts were. 🥺 m’sorry to have made such a huge mess for you to clean up.

~ ❤️‍🩹

Oh your poor thing its quite alright! Anything for my little messy girl~ you just focus on getting all that mess out and let me worry about cleaning up, both you and the sheets ;)

Imagine a couple goes out to eat. It’s a greasy spoon type place, but they’re both craving breakfast for dinner, and what better place for fluffy pancakes.

This establishment is known in the community for being a bit gross. Those with sensitive systems know to steer clear, but they manage to stay open due to the brave souls and loyal pancake fans.

These two aren’t worried. They come here every now and then, and nothing has ever come of it except a healthy food coma. So they order two pancake breakfast complete with scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and of course, a hearty stack of buttermilk pancakes.

They both eat their whole meal and leave the place with stiff, bloated stomachs and a case of the belches.

In the car, A let’s out a silent yet foul gas bubble, much to B’s dismay.

“Honey, eww,” they crack the window and squeeze their shoulder, “Did you eat too much?”

A laughs as they’re driving and grunt, letting out a loud, greasy fart “I think I— hurrrp— must have.”

B groans. The car smells terrible, but they must admit, they’re kinda feeling gassy themself. They stifle a burp into their fist, but they can feel their intestines churning too. Their bowels shift and they sigh before letting out a big brassy toot, to A’s delight.

“Aww honey!” A giggles, “Look at us! Gassy together!”

B groans, “I know, it’s awful.”

They gas their car out completely by the time they’re back in the apartment. A feels much better after letting out all that wind, but B is feeling a bit lousy, so they get to bed.

A stays up watching tv for a while, but their stomach is still super stuffed, so their energy doesn’t last and they join B in bed.

B is snoring and huffing in their sleep. Their stomach seems upset. A rubs their back and frowns, “Poor baby...” they sigh and kiss B’s forehead.

They fall asleep to the sounds of digestion, hoping to sleep off this massive meal. But this hope is dashed a few hours later. They wake up in a cold sweat and with their stomach screaming at them.

They feel that all too familiar feeling of swollen bowels and the urge to find a toilet, Now.

They dash to the bathroom but they find B already bombing the bowl.

B wails in protest, but A needs to purge immediately. They throw back the shower curtain and squat, immediately sending a torrent of thick, mushy shit onto the tile. B sighs softly, “You too, huh baby?” They ask.

A groans as they grunt out another thick wave of diarrhea, “God it burns—“ they groan, “Fuck— must have been the eggs.”

B moans as they shoot liquid shit into the toilet, “I don’t care what it was— ohh—“ they groan as it explodes from their ass, “it hurts so badly.”

They are stuck in the bathroom for a good hour. Between many toilet flushes and A using the shower hose to wash their mess away, the two of them manage to clean up eventually. Their stomachs are terribly uneasy as they get back to bed.

They cuddle for a while, rubbing each others stomachs tenderly as they share moans and belches. They’re both bloated with gas, B is too afraid of having an accident to let it go, but A pushes out sloppy gas bubbles, staining their boxers in the process. B takes up their position as little spoon and A falls asleep nestled into their neck.

They’re both awoken by an odd feeling.

Sudden.... moisture.

B yelps- “Oh my god—“ They wince, their excitement only urging more shit from them. They’re having an accident— much to their surprise. Liquid shit soaks their panties and they begin to cry- the fluid still flowing from them.

A sighs and holds them close, waiting for it to stop. They nuzzle their cheek and sigh “That’s okay baby, just get it out...”

A grunts out a soggy shart and laughs, “See, were both feeling pretty shitty.”

B doesn’t find that funny, but they’re glad they’re not the only one who’ll need a change of clothes this morning.

Written this mind

Warnings- mentions of stuffing, eprocto, scat, voyeurism (?)

Following a night of fooling around with their partner, after a surprisingly large, very rich, somewhat spicy dinner, A rouses just past seven in the morning, shifting drowsily beneath the sheets. It takes a minute, but soon enough, the memories of the previous night wash over them, leaving them with a renewed feeling of euphoria. B had come home with two large bags full of take-out in their arms, and, as they'd eaten, B had let it slip that seeing A the way they had a couple week ago, upon their arrival, had confused them at first, but eventually, confusion had morphed into excitement, and more importantly, admittance. B wanted what they did; to watch them grow steadily, and turn into what B had affectionately called a 'gassy, eating and shitting machine.'

Even with a night spent with B feeding them a variety of foods from a restaurant in the city, with intervals spent with palms wedged into the fluff of their belly, coaxing out rancid gas, A can hardly believe that that the desires they'd harbored in secret aligns with B's. Which is why they've barely questioned it; at least if it by some twisted fate, it is a dream, they'd have made the most of it.

The musings don't last long, for A is soon reminded of what has awoken them this early on a Saturday morning. B is still asleep, cuddling them from behind, with a leg hooked over A's hip and an arm draped lazily over their side, their hand just above the ever-existent swell of A's tummy. And speaking of A's tummy, the gassy gurgles from the night before have returned with vengeance, except, by now, it's journeyed lower and powerful cramps makes their toes curl. Biting their lower lip, A brings a hand to their belly, pressing into the spot right below their navel. The pressure aids in allowing them to push out a deep, rumbling fart that vibrates their fatty cheeks, right against B's crotch.

Sighing uncomfortably, A squirms slightly at the pressure against the sphincter. It isn't abnormal for them to need a trip to the toilet in the morning, it's routine actually, but their tummy is rebelling with an urgency that is usually reserved for only when they absolutely must have relief, without time for delay. A couple of sputtering farts, that sound sort of like raspberries being blown into someone's stomach, accompanied by a watery spray has A whining desperately. Any more and they fear they'll be making a mess all over B.

A strained exhale parts their lips, already, beads on sweat is gathering on their skin. Each pungent toot brings them closer to losing control, causing them to groan inwardly. An especially loud blast rockets out of them, and worried that their control is dwindling, A sits up hastily, consequently waking B.

"Where are you going?" B mumbles, trying to get them back into laying position.

"To the bathroom," A protests, knowing that time is of the essence. Silent gas is seeping from their sweating rear as they speak and the heat in the air makes their stomach churn.

"Mmmm," B sits up, shifting to snake their arms around A's bubbling mid, teasingly pressing into the bloat that serves as their tubby belly, "Why?" They feign ignorance, "Can't you pee a little later?"

"I don't have to pee," A counters, pressing their bum into the mattress, desperate to keep their eager load at bay, "I have to take a fucking shit," they explain trying to shake of B's frim embrace.

Chuckling, B coos tauntingly, "My gassy little pet has to poop," they tease with a chortle, nibbling on the back of A's neck, biting down a little harder when a fart whistles from below A. Truly, they'd always hoped to share their desires with B, and the new teasing is painfully arousing, but that doesn't change the fact that they don't want to ruin their favorite sheets with a messy load.

"I really have to go," they beg, their toes curling in anticipation and their palms griping their knobby knees tightly, knuckles going white, "Please let me go."

B hums contemplatively, "Okay," they permit, but their hold has yet to relent, "But," it feels like they're taking their sweet time to get to words out, and A thinks their doing it on purpose. The fabric beneath them is uncomfortably warm and even if the moisture between their cheeks isn't poop, but A knows that it won't be long before that changes. "I want to watch."

"Done," they agree hastily, standing from the minute B releases them, keeping their hole pinched shut, cradling their belly and padding over to the adjoining bathroom, with B close on their heels.

Neither of them are much too concerned with the door, and from the moment A spots the pristine, porcelain throne, an immense sense of relief washes over them. Though, it's severely short lived when B stops them, rummaging through a neatly packed cabinet below that double sink. Before A can even manage the words, B is explaining, "Not in there silly. Clearly you don't like the toilet," they wink, referring to all the soiled laundry they'd found in the tub upon their return, "So why don't you just go on the floor?"

Still nursing their distended stomach, an electric spark of arousal travels to their crotch as warning toots escape them. But they're also a little self conscious, "Are you sure?" They inquire unsteadily as B lays out the fluffy white towel in front of the tub.

"Very," they reach to lead A over, "Come on baby, I know you're desperate."

"Uh huh," A agrees, lowering their naked frame into a squat. The position is a good one, but they're a little too heavy to support their own weight on just their legs like that, so A leans forward a bit, sticking out their ass and gripping the cool lip of the tub.

Gas hisses out of them, and immediately, their puckered hole yawns open, widening around the first, eager length. Its a bit on the bigger side, but its soft enough to not hurt, easily snaking out of them. Ample cheeks, riddled with the light sheen of old stretch marks, make way for the emerging dark brown, glistening loaf, which coils as it reaches the towel positioned below A. Their stomach contracts gently as A pushes, birthing the beginnings of what they assume to be a sizeable movement.

"Look at that," B muses huskily, from their seat on the floor not too far behind, "How does that feel sweetheart?"

A grunts, wincing at the twist in the pit of their belly, "It burns a little," they pant, "And my tummy hurts." Exertion gathers on their brow, and as the length breaks off with a thud. A's shit-stained lips wink as they bear down a little, feeling another mass descend through their colon, "Oh, here it comes," they announce as a lump rears its head.

A's always been a loud pooper, prone to grunting, moaning and even a little cursing, but having B around encourages them to be even more vocal. "Fuck," they lean further forward, so their heels lift off the floor just about an inch, "B, can you see that?" With the first half of the log cleared, the rest descends with ease, "It feels big," it's just as long as the first too, piling on top of A's initial rope of shit, before breaking of with a gagged edge.

"It is," B agrees, impressed, having to shift slightly to quell their arousal, "Are you done?"

"Nope," A blasts a series of short, nasty toots. It's a lot, sure, but they can still feel some more settled inside them, "I think I've got a bit more."

It takes a couple minutes spent ridding their gut of the gas, but eventually, they're crowning again, that mass wider than the first two, but much softer, rocketing out of A and slopping in a semi-solid mass next to the first lengths. A moans as their tummy groans and gurgles, pushing out greasy blasts, smaller flecks of wet poop accompanying the gas and peppering the white of the towel.

"Does it hurt baby?" B probes, shifting onto their knees to get a clearer view of A's fluttering hole, sucking in a sharp breath when a watery fart vibrate A's butt.

"Yeah," A admits, "But it feels so fucking good too," they rock their hips, "Ngh, it's coming." The poop is slowly snaking through their gaping hole, gathering with the other loaves, snapping off before the last lengths, shorter and far softer than the rest, lands on top of the pile. "Done," they declare after a couple tentative pushes.

"Whew," B whistles, "You shit like a cow baby," They stand, colleting the roll of tissue and then joining A, "So much and so stinky."

A blushes, feeling another spark reach their crotch, "Do you wanna do it?" They offer, "I think I got really dirty," just the mere thought of having B's fingers touching them like that was so erotic to them, cleaning up after them, like they always do. Taking care of them, as they always do.

Without a verbal response, B unrolls a wad of tissue, guiding it to the split of A's ass, starting low and dragging it upwards, fingers lingering upon brushing A's hole. A gasp breaks the air and A jumps slightly, gnawing on their lip.

B is surprisingly gentle. using at least four separate wads, pressing their pointer to A's hole each time they wipe, only stopping when the paper comes back clean. They're still crouched in front of the tub, with A hovering over their little mountain of poop, when B begins; "Now," the pepper kisses on to A's sweat-dampened cheek, "Why don't we go get you some breakfast? It's time to start fattening you up."

Your fat, goth roommate had some problems with ripping ass while he slept. You never talked to him about it, but jeez, he could be gassy. It was like as soon as he hit pillow, loud, booming farts blasted from his fat rear, adding a heavy, pungent stink to the air.

You might've pretended to be grossed out by it, but secretly you loved it. He was a perfect fat slob. He was a deep sleeper too, so sometimes, when he was out cold, you'd peel down his black, sweaty underwear off his massive, swampy ass, listening to him blasting more rancid gas, before you couldn't resist anymore and plunge your face into his deep ass between his fat cheeks, letting his rip ass directly in your face, deeply inhaling his acrid stench. Everything about him was just irresistible, you couldn't get enough.

The pandemic has brought about one of my favorite activities, letting my wet gas leak out while participating in meetings full of people. Of course, it's fun to let the gas steadily gurgle out of me while my mic is muted — no one having any idea that it smells like sewage and a hot porta potty around me. But occasionally a mistake is made, a mic left unmuted, and that's when I push out the juicy, wet, poo filled farts that signal the start of an accident.

And I find myself apologizing quietly as people try to refocus on the subject at hand.

You’re lounging on the couch one day with your fave, who is your partner. You have told them about your fetish(es), and they’re okay with it - they’re even willing to indulge you.

When you ask if you can feed them a large bowl of poutine, coated in melted cheese and soaked in gravy, they agree. You give them forkful after forkful, and they’re moaning with every bite. Soon, their belly is showing signs of bloating and your fave is struggling to keep up with the bites, slowing down considerably. You say, “be a good boy/girl/whatever, and have one more bite for me, okay?” With a groan, they oblige.

You’re watching TV - except you’re not, really. You’re more intent on how your fave is reacting to the poutine, how their stomach is bubbling and gurgling, how they’re groaning. They speak up, then.

“I can’t hold it.” Voice timid, they cannot meet your gaze before they are leaning to the side to allow an incredible rumbler to make its way from their rear. For the rest of the day/night, you’re coaxing fart after fart from their bloated belly, all while putting your face right against their ass in order to huff the putrid smells.

BONUS SCAT

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