Stuffed with Cupcakes
Warning: Story includes belly stuffing, force feeding and overeating. Just a little heads up.
I groan, squirming in my chair as I try to shift, trying to make room because I know the feast isn’t over. Not yet, not with the way you’re keeping the steady stream of plates coming. Already, my belly throbs, begging for the internal pressure to stop, or to slow down at the very least. Silently, to myself, I tell it to calm down, ask it endure for just a little more. Though, it’s not just a little more, it never is.
I glance down, something I have been avoiding up until this point, but my curiosity gets the better of me. My eyes widen, I know my tummy is taut and filled, almost at its limit, but to the extent that it is...it was shocking. It’s so round, tightly packed and slightly reddened with the constant abuse placed upon it. I want to run a hand over it, need to, but the ropes around my wrists prevent me from moving an inch. All I can do is try to mentally shove th