Bloated Burps - Blog Posts

Boss's Orders (male fart/burp fetish story/fanfic)

hii everyone this is my first public fetish story I'm posting. this character (Cyrus) is not an OC he is from the P0ke/m0n series (I do NOT need this showing up in main tags/general searches haha). please enjoy this story of a repressed and uptight man losing all control of his ability to hold in his gas

Cyrus had no particular fondness for coffee; in fact, he found the taste to be quite repulsive, though he’d never let it show. It was something he drank to function, purely to fuel the machine that was his often-ailing body. As such, it was always supposed to be black coffee. He wasn’t the type of man to do things for “fun” or “enjoyment,” which were vague and sentimental concepts he simply did not have time to deal with. He didn’t need sugar, milk, or creamer; he drank his coffee as it came.

…That, and he happened to be absurdly lactose intolerant. It frustrated him immensely; yet another way in which he was painfully human and so far from the perfect ideal he sought. He usually didn’t have much trouble avoiding dairy, though a familiar and unwelcome bubbling in his stomach made him feel as though he hadn’t been diligent enough.

He shifted uncomfortably in his office chair at Team Galactic HQ. His stomach was softly gurgling, making him thankful he was so particular about his office’s isolation from the rest of the building.

Fuck. That moronic grunt I allowed to fetch me coffee must have made some executive decision to add creamer, he thought to himself, scowling as his discomfort grew.

Why would someone do that? Why were people so stupid and presumptuous?

Cyrus sighed and rested his head in his hands, his frustration quickly interrupted by a surging cramp in his abdomen. At first, he tried to ignore it, keeping his hands and mind busy by focusing on writing his next speech. He wasn’t a child; he could keep his bodily functions at bay without issue. Another sharp cramp rung through his lower body and he found one of his hands tentatively massaging his aching stomach, finding it far more bloated than usual. 

He angrily stood up and locked his office door, his stomach audibly complaining about the sudden movement. The last thing people needed to hear was him in such a vulnerable state. It was unbecoming of him. 

He tried to resume his task but quickly found himself wrapping both arms around his stomach, head on his desk. “Mmnh….” Although the cool surface felt nice on his sweaty face, he let out a soft groan of pain as his insides worked themselves into knots. Righting his posture and forcing himself upright, he tried to set his sights on typing the concluding thoughts of his speech, still able to hear his gurgling stomach over the sounds of the keypresses.

A sudden cramp came that was too intense for him to fight against; though he tried, tensing his muscles so as to not give into his weakness, his body had other plans. Unable to take it any longer, he involuntarily relaxed and let out a forceful, long, wet fart, one that made him sigh in relief. 

How shameful.

It was a disgusting feeling, to be so controlled by his body in this way. He attempted to stand up to open a window to rid himself of the foul odor but found another drawn-out fart bubbling out of him, so desperate he couldn’t hold it back as it filled the room with a sulfurous smell.

Whatever. He would simply resume his duties as any responsible adult would. When needed, he would provide himself relief, if that’s what it took to get his work done.

As he got back to typing, he felt a sharp cramp as his stomach lurched. He didn’t need to apply much pressure to let out a deep, ringing burp, one that made his throat hurt a bit from the sheer force of it. Anticipating another, he placed a hand over his mouth as a belch rose up from the depths of his body, muffled by his palm. Sighing, he closed his eyes, feeling shame and humiliation burn through him. “...Absolutely disgusting,” he quietly commented to nobody in particular.

The smells his body was producing at this point were foul. Entirely unable to restrain his gut from tightening and clenching, a soft, bubbly fart practically leaked out of him, filling his pants with an eggy stench. Perhaps even more mortifying than the gas itself was the sheer amount of relief it was bringing Cyrus to release it; on most occasions, he used every once of his willpower to hold back any eructations or flatulence indefinitely. To be so utterly at the mercy of his body made him feel powerless and weak, but releasing the painful pressure building up inside him was bordering on euphoric.

Taking a momentary break from typing to lean to one side, he let out a bassy fart with a finish just slightly too wet to make him feel comfortable. Another cramp hit him and forced a huge airy fart out of his hole; he let out a contented sigh of relief when it finally finished.

Every part of this disgusted him, especially the warm, damp feeling that was starting to fill the back of his briefs from the moisture of his farts. He was worried he’d need a change of underwear before the day came to a close. Hell, he might from the smell alone. But goddamnit, he’d vowed to complete his tasks at any cost. Nothing so trivial as an upset stomach would interrupt his duties.

As he set himself back to work on writing his speech, his face was burning hot from embarrassment, even though he was alone. Cyrus had always been particularly shy about his bodily functions, especially those deemed more…impolite in nature. What, was he really so weak as to lose control over his bowels, like he was a child? Regardless, even when he tried to hold back his gas, he soon found it erupting out of him, hot searing farts hissing out of him for upwards of ten seconds at a time, rendering the office air nearly unbreathable.

He pressed a fist to his mouth to stifle another loud belch, before furrowing his brow in frustration. A quick assessment of his midsection revealed him to be no less bloated than before, perhaps even moreso despite the massive amount of gas he’d managed to expel. I despise this. This is no way for a leader to conduct himself, he thought as he tentatively unbuttoned his pants and unbuckled his belt, allowing his swollen gut some relief. As revolting as this was, it’d also be best if it was over as fast as possible, and perhaps that required some encouragement on Cyrus’s behalf.

Trying to apply firm pressure to his tender abdomen, he took his fingertips and began massaging his stomach. Forcing his gas in certainly wasn’t working, so maybe forcing it out would have more productive results. With one hand, he gripped the edge of his desk, as he pushed out a massive, roaring fart, so long that it left him out of breath. “Arceus almighty…” He mused to himself as his stomach churned. Every time his hand connected with his midsection, another bubble of gas would force its way out of him.

This strategy seemed to be decent for making progress, though Cyrus’s gut seemed to be capable of producing nearly endless air. After another flurry of smaller farts, he let out a large one that, to his displeasure, felt decidedly wet.

“...Fuck,” he said, getting to his feet and attempting to make his way to his private bathroom. With every step, he let out another rancid, swampy fart, interrupted periodically by deep burps. When he finally got to the bathroom, he felt like he was being stabbed in the abdomen; surely whatever demonic force would emerge from the depths of his bowels would not leave his pants intact, and he was so close to the toilet, but…

Cyrus was unable to restrain the disgustingly wet, sloppy fart that tore through his bowels, his mouth opening a bit in shock at how truly vile it was. It sounded and smelled like he was actively soiling himself. When he managed to shove down his pants and seat himself on the toilet, finally releasing the storm brewing in his intestines, he rested his head in his hands. This was going to be a long day.

Just couldn't hold it in any longer 🫧 urrp

This was so cute! What a good puppy~

€5 for a burping audio hmu x

Got so full I can’t move again, I put on 7 pounds, not that there’s anyone to feel my belly to check 🫠🫠🫠

Feeling absolutely stretched out rn, first time I’ve had to undo a belt in a minute, I reached critical mass 🚨

I got thirsty so I decided on washing down heavy cream with some beer, I’m gonna explode and would appreciate belly kisses from all the nice ladies who wanna turn me into a pig 🐽

Lady hands on me when?

I need pretty long nails to trace my happy trail and scratch the underside of my tummy to push the burps out 🐷🐷🐷

Date was cancelled so I pigged out alone 🙃

If you have plush lady lips, please put them on my belly, it really hurts, I totally lost control and now I can’t stop burping

😭😭😭

Filled with soder, I’ve earned belly kisses fr

🙏🙏🙏

My belly is in so much pain rn, I just ate more than I have in awhile, feel like I’m gonna die without a possessive feeder gf to mark my tummy with her lipstick stains

😭😭😭

I’m gonna fucking die if there isn’t a lady kissing my full belly by sundown

👻👻👻

Eating till my jeans are tight makes me feel like an ogle-able man hoe

Day 5 of stuffing my belly so much it hurts till I get belly rubs, my head is spinning and I can’t stop burping

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Got sad there’s no pretty lady touching my belly, then I stress ate, today is day 4 of this in a row, now my belly hurts… a lot 🥲

It’s just one beer after the other ughhh, it’s a crime that I’m this cold and this full, where is the funnel? And the cute lady using it to start pouring even more into my packed gut? Post feeding gut fondling feels so damn good 😭😭😭

It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk, and my belly’s filled 🎶 

I just love filling my belly, I’ve been doing it twice a day lately 😋

Stuffed af again I need belly rubs 😭

Being stuffed is fun and all, but I’d be able to appreciate it more with hands on my gut 😵‍💫

Thinking about buying croptops just to out grow them, any lovely ladies have suggestions or links for clothes they wanna see me blow up out of?

I think it’s the long winded descriptions like this that really develop my fantasies 🤪

your fat, lazy pig

cw: nsfw, eructophilia, eproctophilia, immobility, slob, male feedee, piss (last few sentences)

this is pure self indulgent fa trash and excessive descriptions of sum Big Tumby™ please enjoy

• • •

You truly love everything about your fat, lazy pig. You’ve grown his belly so big and round that it bursts out of all of his clothing, destroying buttons, bulging through torn seams and jiggling with even the slightest movement. His pant button pops, and the strain of his burgeoning gut against the zipper forces it down without him even having to touch it, allowing his stomach to spill forward onto his lap.

He always has food nearby, and has done away with manners inside the house. You absolutely love hearing the results of his gluttony, love hearing him shamelessly belch and fart to make room to be able to continue eating, love hearing his stuffed stomach groan in distress at the sheer quantity he manages to cram inside it. When he sits down his ample gut takes up his entire lap, sinking between his doughy thighs to rest heavily on the seat underneath. The size of his stomach forces him back in his seat, rounding out into a huge, distended dome, the top of it so taut full of food all the time that it pushes his swollen breasts sideways. He’s too obese to sit and eat at tables anymore, so instead he rests bowls and platters on the jutting shelf of his gut. He doesn’t mind. He says it’s better that he doesn’t have to reach so far, his arms don’t get tired as quickly.

On the lessening occasions that he walks, his corpulent belly sways and bounces with every waddling step he takes, slapping rhythmically against his blubbery thighs. You can’t resist the temptation the sight rouses, groping and jiggling it in your arms, because that’s how much of it there is; armfuls of fat, undulating lard that ripples endlessly when you smack it, rolls atop rolls of soft, hefty body. Your humungous pig pants and complains until you let him sit down again, groaning tiredly and having to support himself with a hand as he lowers himself. The force of his weight impacting on the seat below him causes his whole body to wobble alarmingly like a heap of quivering jelly.

As of recently, he stopped being able to see over his gut after you’ve sat him down and stuffed him to his limit. It’s a milestone you’re both very pleased about him reaching. To celebrate, you invite likeminded people over to admire and assist, because it’s simply better when there are multiple people pushing endless amounts of food into his mouth from every angle, lovingly rubbing thick belches out of his gut, slapping his expanded belly and watching it tremble and surge outwards as his clothes give out. It’s what he deserves, all the calories and praise he could wish for.

Watching him struggle to get up from sitting down is probably one of your favourite pastimes, the way he swings his flabby arms to gain momentum, sending his bingo wings swinging madly is a sight to behold. Well, maybe it’s your favourite pastime after seeing him try to get up in the morning. It’s remarkable, how long it takes him to roll his fat ass out of bed, his gelatinous stomach pooling out in front of him when he’s lying on his side, sloshing and rippling like a big water balloon. Of course, he can’t help but rip long, sloppy farts as he tries to stand, just as he does when doing anything even slightly strenuous. At first, he was embarrassed by his uncontrollable flatulence. Now, he pats his stomach with a pleased smile and proudly announces that he feels hungry again.

For a while now, he’s found it hard to lie on his back, his immense weight suffocating him. But sometimes, it’s all he can do after a particularly hedonistic day of gorging himself far past the point of excess. When he does, he’s nothing more than a mountain of fat. Helplessly splayed out and unable to move, completely overfed and incoherent. His rotund gut rises up high, sloping roundly even with gravity working against it. It’s on days like these when he shamelessly eats too much that he finds himself profusely aroused by his own lack of control. But there’s no way he could ever hope to reach around his absurd belly to his dick should he want to relieve himself. Even if he could, his body is encased in so much blubber that even lying flat his gut still spills between his thighs and over his sizeable hips, completely obstructing his crotch.

So, you’ll let him struggle and whine for help, coo teasingly as his pudgy cheeks turn red and he grunts with effort, trying to no avail to rock his mountainous stomach from side to side just to be able to reach himself. When he gives up, sweating and out of breath, you finally give him a hand. His lower belly is plump and heavy, and pushing it out the way is no easy feat. When you manage, his poor, useless cock underneath is already so hard it’s leaking precum, pink and throbbing from being rubbed all day between his thick thigh rolls. Even fully erect, only the the tip of his weeping cock is peaking out cutely from his pillowy fat pad. You tease him, fucking your fingers into his sensitive fat pad alongside his cock, admiring how soft and pliant he is. Taunting him for his obscene overindulgence, praising him for being such a fat, insatiable glutton. He loves all of it, you know he does. Most of all, he loves when you grab a handful of his full belly and shake it, sending his lard rolling decadently and disturbing the trapped gas inside, forcing deep, gurgling burps out of him. You can’t see his face over the crest of his stomach, but you can tell he’s close by the way he gasps exhaustedly, gut quaking and heaving with every strained breath and moan he puffs out. He doesn’t last long with your enticement, and you stare in awe at the way every inch of his obese body wobbles when he comes with a gasp, a cascade of jiggling adipose that doesn’t stop even after he’s spent and lax. Overcome by exhaustion and fullness, he lets you clean him up as he catches his breath. He’s normally asleep by the time you finish, tired from doing nothing but eating all day.

Obviously, there are times when you need to leave the house. He doesn’t love it because he’s started having a hard time getting around without help. However, you leave him with plenty of food to keep him satiated, and that silences any complaints he has. On those days, it’s easy for him to get so lost in the food on his own that he eats himself into a complete stupor in bed, on the couch or on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge. Take today, for example, you watch him on the house cameras you’d both agreed to install in the case that you were out and he got into any trouble due to his increasingly limited mobility. You can see that he’s planted himself on the reinforced bench made just for him in the kitchen, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be moving. You’re enraptured at the sight of him on your phone, unable to look away as you watch him eat so much that he physically can’t move, totally beached and burping piggishly, groaning in pleasure as he caresses his straining stomach and appreciates his immense size. While he gorges, he attempts to fuck his own underbelly and fat pad, weakly pressing down on his overfilled gut and twitching his hips until he climaxes, the strain of his orgasm forcing gas noisily out from both ends. He tries to get up from wherever he’s slumped, struggling helplessly to lift his bloated body and get himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after drinking litres and litres of fizzy drinks throughout the day. But however hard he tries he’s just too fat, too heavy to support his own weight, pinned down by his ballooned belly. In the end, he gives up and starts to squirm, wincing and trying to hold it in for as long as he can. But in the haze of a food coma and post orgasm drowsiness, he lets go and pisses himself where he’s sitting, hot liquid pouring down his legs and splattering on the floor. With a desperate moan he hefts his overflowing gut upwards, attempting to angle his fat-encased dick just to piss over himself. A literal pig, stuffed stupid and covered in his own mess, completely glutted out and too fat to move an inch.

Stuffed again 🤤

Hi, my belly full🥲

Jingle bells, Taco Bells, I’ve gained a single pound 🥲

I can’t believe I got excited for a dm and found this, did I say something that warranted being blocked? This happens a lot and tbh I feel like I’m being fucked with

Why hmu just to block me? 🫠

Thinking ab a cute lady I met today who ran a pastel Etsy shop, I’d eat anything to please a sweet woman like that

Touching grass isn’t enough, I need a crazy and obsessive stalker gf to blow up my phone w questions about how much I ate/why I’m not constantly painfully stuffed, and touch my belly

all i want for thanksgiving is a feeder 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

time for another dessert, fatass. open wide and eat. NOW. i'm waiting!