“Your friend wasn’t very filling,” I stated in a firm voice, terrifying the duo who immediately started insisting the other be next to take a oneway trip down my gullet, “Don’t worry, I have other plans for you. Plus, I promised to make your punk-ass friend suffer, didn’t I?”
I placed a hand on my furry gut and it instantly started to grow as the half-dead driver began to grow to about half his normal size. By the time he had finished growing, my gut had expanded tremendously, pressing up again the steering wheel of the truck.
“Ahh~ I love feeling this full,” I sighed, “He should last much longer now at this size!”
I gave my gut a playful slap, eliciting a gelatinous jiggle and a frantic struggle from within. The ungodly sight of their doomed friend punching and kicking against the walls of my stomach was enough to make one of the toys faint while the other lost the rest of his lunch. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
From my spot wedged against the wheel of my truck, I leaned to one side and skillfully let out a small but steady stream of rank gas. Almost immediately, the one who had fainted shot up and threw up from the mighty scent of my ass’ own brand of smelling salts.
“Haha, can’t have you missing out on the fun, boy,” I scooped up the one who had just regained consciousness and placed him on my vast belly, “Get rubbing, boy!” I commanded.
A few moments of the weakling’s weak rubbing passed before he started to get tangled in my sweaty fur, stapping him in place.
“What’s the big idea?” I started as I looked down, “Ohoho, are we a little stuck? Well now that you got your ear pressed against there, what’s your friend saying?”
He went pale before timidly mumbling, “H-he wants to be let o-out. He says that it burns.”
“Haha! Well of course it burns, dummy! You’re soon to be nothing more than a couple of inches on my waistline, a few passing farts that I’m sure your friends will just love to choke on, and a steamy pile of shit,” I stated.
“He’s-he’s crying,” relayed the trapped bug.
“Ha! What a weakling!” I guffawed, “I guess that’s one piece of shit, or soon to be a piece of shit I should say, taken care of. Now,” I turned to the box with the remaining toy,” What shall we do with you, little man?”
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
