A request for Jokermask18. Any constructive criticism in the comments section is welcome.
|Bulma was feeling elated as of late. Following the debacle with Goku Black, she had learned that she was pregnant with a second child. To celebrate, Chi-Chi had come over to the Capsule Corporation for lunch. Bulma’s mom, Panchy, had whipped up a large buffet, assuming that Chi-Chi was bringing along her husband and sons. Nonetheless, the inventor and the Ox-Princess were busy enjoying the spread laid out before them. Bulma was helping herself to a strawberry parfait, licking a dollop of whipped cream that landed on her lips. The glazed strawberry syrup on top of the dessert enhanced the taste of the actual fruit, making her moan in pleasure when she consumed it as well.
Meanwhile, Chi-Chi plucked some dumplings into her mouth. Tangy chicken meat filled the dumplings, and they burst with flavor inside her mouth as she chewed them thoroughly. However, it felt a little dry, so she decided to grab some type of beverage that would moisten her parched throat. The daughter of the Gyū Maō searched for a bit before settling on a cherry soda. She cracked open the top and chugged down about a quarter of the can. When she removed the can from her lips, she felt a bubbling sensation in her stomach, culminating in a ball of gas ejecting from her mouth.
Chi-Chi’s belch was one-second-long and loud enough to grab Bulma’s attention from the other side of the table. “Excuse me.” The matriarch of the Son household apologized as she blushed and covered her mouth.
However, before Bulma could respond, her own crude exhaust of gas caught the genius off guard. It carried the scent of strawberries, and matched Chi-Chi’s in terms of length and volume. Unlike her guest though, she responded differently. “Hehehe… Guess I ate too fast.”
Bulma’s reaction caused Chi-Chi’s eyes to widen in surprise. “Bulma, we should show better manners than this.” She advised.
Bulma gave a relaxed smile. “I don’t see why, Chi-Chi. There’s no one else here except my mom and she doesn’t care.” Then she flashed a smirk. “In fact, I have an idea.”
“Let’s have a burping contest.” Bulma suggested, picking up a can of Jetap. “It could be fun.”
Chi-Chi’s blush deepened and she shifted her eyes away from her long-time compatriot. “I-I’m still not sure. It’s so unladylike.”
Bulma rolled her eyes and popped open the top of her can, swallowing half of the beer inside. After finishing, she wiped her mouth with her left arm and burp-spoke. “*SSSOO WWHHAAAATTT?!*” The alcohol-laced oxygen wafted over toward the rural homemaker, making her flinch when she took a quick whiff. This made Bulma giggle a bit. “Come on, Chi-Chi. It’s not often that we can just let loose like this. We’re too busy taking care of our families. Please give it a shot.” She requested.
Chi-Chi pondered the situation before making her decision. “Okay. I have been feeling a bit stressed out lately, so this might be a good, if juvenile, way to take my mind off of it.” She agreed.
Bulma grinned. “Great, so we belch until we can’t belch anymore. The loser is whoever runs out of gas first.”
“Deal.” Chi-Chi agreed, before resuming chugging her sugary soft drink, an action that Bulma mimicked with her alcoholic one. Although Bulma had less to drink, Chi-Chi’s slight head start and general desire to win helped her finish her can first. However, Chi-Chi chose not to through the first punch, so to speak; instead, opting to scarf down more solid food to give her gas some more ‘flavor’.
Not one to pass up an opportunity, the Princess of Saiyans proceeded to belt out a battalion of belches, each one raunchier than the last. She ceased following the fourth one, thinking that she might vomit otherwise, and took a break. Chi-Chi no doubt heard Bulma’s burps and was somewhat impressed. The forty-eight-year-old would be tough to beat if she could do that much with that little food. Fortunately, Chi-Chi was rectifying that by heaving stacks of fluffy flapjacks and slices of gooey pizza down her gullet. Her taste buds experiencing a bizarre combination of textures as the melted cheese and viscous honey mixed into homologous slurry over her tongue. Though Chi-Chi squirmed, she also smacked her lips, as the taste was not as bad as she had anticipated.
“Well, here goes nothing.” Chi-Chi inhaled deeply, stoking the fires burning in her belly, and effortlessly unleashed an epic eructation. It echoed across the room, dwarfing all previous gaseous outbursts in odor, duration, and volume. A couple wine glasses even vibrated from the belch’s power. Bulma stared at her opponent, slack-jawed.
“Whoa… Good one.” She admitted.
“Thanks,” The husband of Son Gokū replied, then smirked. “But I doubt that this is over.”
Bulma returned the facial expression. “Nope, not by a long shot!”
And so, the competition continued. Bulma had resumed wolfing down food and was currently demolishing instant noodles in a bowl half the circumference of a medicine ball. Her loud slurping, chomping, and gulping would have brought to mind images of her son and husband gorging on her cooking, rather than she doing it on that of her own mother’s. Chi-Chi preoccupied herself with the devouring of burgers stacked in a pyramid. The ebony-haired woman began at the top so she would not bring about the collapse the entire structure, and brought about the monument’s ruin from the inside out. Stains of ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise were slathered all over her face and dress, though she paid it no heed as both women were to engrossed with the contest to care for things like that. Thirty minutes had passed since the start of the contest, leading to the devastation of the totality of the delicacies in the process, which had an effect on their figures. Both females gained food babies that made each appear to be in the early stages of pregnancy (even though one of them already was), and Chi-Chi just barely edged out Bulma for the honor of sporting the heftier beer gut (although most of the actual beer resided in Bulma’s abdomen). Another consequence to the partially unintentional stuffing contest was that they had a harder time trying to move. On the other hand, movement was not essential to winning the main competition.
Nevertheless, while Chi-Chi had a marginal victory over the woman with violet locks, the opposite held true when it came to gas. For every powerful expulsion of gas that blasted through Chi-Chi’s flapping lips, Bulma shot out rapid-fire eructations that lacked relative power, but compensated with greater frequency and numbers. It was a battle of quality against quantity, though Bulma had a plan to succeed. While Chi-Chi was launching truly intimidating eruptions, she was burning through too much gas. Inversely, Bulma method was to keep her puffs of gas smaller in order to reduce the amount of gas lost with each burp. After all, the point was to retain the most gas last, and Bulma had the advantage in the regard, if only by a hair or so. These guttural roars rang throughout the building for another ten minutes, until at last a conclusive winner was determined.
“*BBUUURRRPpppppppp….*” Chi-Chi emitted a burp that started out strong, but diminished with time.
Bulma gave her a sly grin. “*HURRRRPP!*” Her belch, while not has dragged out, at least had a consistent volume.
Chi-Chi went again, hoping to do better this time. “I’m not done yet.” She sucked in, expanding her already packed paunch to painful levels, and let out everything she had. “*urp…*” It was the most pitiful puff of gas that either woman had ever heard. Calling it a hiccup would be a stretch, let alone a burp, as it lacked the length, power, and stink to both to refer to as such.
Chi-Chi blushed in embarrassment while Bulma was giving a great belly laugh. “Hahaha! That was precious!”
“Will you just go, already?” The blood-born royal figure asked, irritated, to which Bulma complied.
“Check this out.” She stated before sucking in air and forcing out a belch that, while pathetic in comparison to her previous attempts, were still on par with what an average human could muster, which was more than could be said for Chi-Chi.
Chi-Chi scowled at her adversary, and tried to force out a burp comparable to her earlier ones, but literally, nothing happened. Her eye wide in disbelief, the Son matriarch tried repeatedly and produced nothing. Bulma smug smile grew before thumping her chest and letting fly her own belch. This was weaker than her last one, but still superior to Chi-Chi’s previous attempt. However, it was not much to end on, Bulma technically won the contest, albeit based on conditions that she herself established. Still, she was not going to let that dampen her victory and she would celebrate with a dance if not for her heavy abdominal area weighing her down. Chi-Chi was not doing so well though, feeling like she was hustled in a way.
“Great, you won. So, what now?” She inquired through a scowl.
Bulma stopped for a moment to think. “Nothing, I guess. I was just trying to not be bored.” She admitted with a shrug.
Chi-Chi just huffed in disappointment, but that expression changed when she laid eyes upon something. Bulma was confused by the mood swing, though it became understandable as she followed her line of sight and saw something that made her jaw drop a second time.
Panchy had entered the home, her own belly taut with food, and greeted her daughter and friend. “Hello, Sweetie. I’ve just been watching you two eat, and that made me hungry, so I decided to have my own private lunch. The whole time I was eating though, I heard these strange noises coming from the other room, so I wanted to check it out.” As she exposited, she motioned closer to her daughter who was beginning to get nervous. Her mother’s stomach was larger than both hers and Chi-Chi’s combined. “I’ve noticed that you two were letting out these large belches and looking so happy doing so, but you appeared a bit too happy, young lady.” The tail end of the statement conveyed an ominous tone.
Bulma gulped nervously. “Well, Mom, it was nice talking to you, but I really should be going. Dad probably wants my help with one of his inventions.” She tried to vamoose, but the anchor that was her gut nixed that plan. Her efforts were further foiled when Panchy resting her superior stomach on top of hers, making her feel like she might fall through the chair.
“Ahh, but I like our chat, and it’d be rude to end it so abruptly. Now as I was saying, you were acting rather boastful and rude while you were busy burping and stuffing yourself silly, and while I agree that they are a lot of fun, it’s no excuse to act like such a brat; especially, with another bundle of joy on its way here soon.” The blonde-haired woman’s baby blue eyes were open and locked on those of her daughter and her scarlet lips curled into a devious smirk that rivaled those of the Saiyan prince. “So, for such haughty behavior, I feel that you need to be disciplined, and I know the perfect way to do it.” Before Bulma could question her mother’s actions, Panchy began breathing in oxygen like a vacuum cleaner, expanding her globular gut even more. The weight of two bountiful bellies was almost more than the rest of Bulma’s body could handle and she wanted to know her mom’s endgame. Oh, how she would regret her desire soon.
When Panchy’s stomach had reached its maximum capacity, it was twice its previous size, burying Bulma under even more flab. The wife of the richest man in the world then leaned her head forward until she was merely five inches away from her daughter’s face. Said daughter was now sweating bullets, scared of what was to come. Panchy opened her mouth into an “O” shape, and just let it all out.
By far greater than every previous one, Panchy’s powerful expulsion of gas actually shattered the windows in the room, as well as the wine glasses. It reeked of hotdogs, sodas, cakes, lasagna, and other miscellaneous treats, forcing Bulma to shield her nose; the burp clocked in at a staggering eight seconds, longer than any of the other two woman’s; Bulma’s hair was blown back by the sheer power of the eructation. When it finally ended. Bulma was trying to fight back tears from the retched stench that lingered in the air.
“Hmhmhm… It appears that you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.” Panchy taunted playfully.
Chi-Chi’s pupils dilated as she bore witness to the epic eructation emitted by the dainty golden-haired woman. Never would she have imagined a sight like that. Bulma, for her part, was fighting back the urge to slide into unconsciousness. She felt so puny, now in terms of her tummy and her burps. It was like she was a rookie being schooled by a master. The dollop of whipped cream on her humble pie was the completely innocent, childish giggle that people would associate with her mother far more.
“Now, I take it that you’ve learned your lesson.” Panchy stated.
Bulma could merely nod meekly, firmly afraid of her mom for the first time in her life.
“Good, now I trust that you’ll be more respectful to any guests in our house from now on, right?”
Again, a small nod was the purple-haired woman’s response.
“Great.” Then, the surprisingly intimidating blonde-haired woman turned her attention to Chi-Chi, who shared Bulma’s newly found fear. “As for you, Chi-Chi, I’m touched that you want to celebrate my daughter’s pregnancy and indulged in her little contest, but you shouldn’t let her goad you into participating in something that you don’t want to.” Panchy advised.
Chi-Chi internally sighed in relief. “I appreciate the thought, Mrs. Brief, but I honestly enjoyed myself today.”
Panchy conceded her statement with a nod of her own and left to get seconds. As for the other mothers, they would have to wait until their bodies had processed enough food to enable them to move more easily. Until then, they’d have to make due sitting in place and making small talk.
“So, Bulma…” Chi-Chi began.
“Hmm?” The scientist responded, still in a daze.
“Have you thought of any baby names, yet?” Chi-Chi asked.
Bulma had to pause for a bit before answering. “Well, this sounds pretty weird, but I was thinking about ‘Bra.’”
Chi-Chi took pause as well before replying. “Huh, for some reason, I thought it would be ‘Bulla.’”