Quite Frankly Spooky

[Quite Frankly Spooky]

Anonymous asked:

How would you tease your prey?

There’s all kinds of ways. Squishing and smothering them, licking them all over to savor their flavor, telling them how they’re going to be part of my fat belly. One way I’ve been liking recently, though, is the idea of a sort of long chase. Every time I capture my prey, I play with and tease them and swallow them a little bit more, before letting them go and letting the chase resumes. First time, I swallow them to their ankles… second time they get caught, to their knees… third time they get caught, to their waist… and every chase, they get more and more exhausted, and yet more and more frightened, especially when they know that the next time I catch them, they’ll be going down my gullet completely. I’d love to do something like that.

[Quite Frankly Spooky]

Anonymous asked:

Could you describe the digestion process you go through once you're done teasing your prey?

It pretty much renders me useless for days at least! Carrying around an entire person is absolutely exhausting, especially when they’re actively squirming and struggling, so I’m only really able to waddle around if I’m bracing myself against a wall, and even then only for a few minutes. I usually spend all my time in my apartment, teasing and playing with my gurgling belly in bed or in the bathtub, sloshing it around in the mirror or taking pictures of it, squishing it against walls or my mattress, really working them down. Prey usually stops moving after anywhere from 2-5 days, and it’s a week before I can walk without assistance. After two weeks I can walk easily and by three I’m basically back to normal, albeit fatter. I love how sloshy and squishy my tummy gets at this stage. By a month they’re completely processed.

[Quite Frankly Spooky]

Imagine dating a predator. Looking at that belly knowing entire people were processed in that unbelievably powerful body. Taking big handfuls of their fat knowing lives have been dedicated to making it bigger, softer. Teasing them about tasty people in public and watching as they get hungrier, blushier, needier. Resting your head on their belly all night long as they gurgle their latest meal. Wondering, deep down, whether you might one day take the plunge and add to that very figure you so adore.

[Quite Frankly Spooky]

The break room at the clinic was at peace… until the silence was cut through by the booming of heavy footsteps rushing into the room, as a massive nurse slammed the door shut behind her! As soon as she had privacy, she let out a booming, brassy burrrrrruuaaaaarrppp of a belch, a dopey expression of relief on her face as she finally released all the gas her recent, massive meal had displaced. All the buttons on her uniform had popped off, revealing a massive, fat belly that looked pregnant with nonuplets at least or a foal at most, and moved with much the same vigor. She cringed and shuddered, feeling hands pushing out against the taut, sensitive skin of her stomach, or clawing against her esophageal sphincter as her meal desperately tried to wriggle its way back up the way it came in, forcing her to suppress her gag reflex. Delicious and filling as they were, the early stages of digestion were never fun for her, especially when her prey kicked her in the ribs. Then again, it can’t be too fun for them either…

“Ooooh, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped lunch. Uuurgghh… this appetite of mine is going to get me fired one day… or worse!” If her gluttony does become too much to control, she tends to prefer eating the patients who weren’t going to be walking out of here anyway. But this poor soul only had a sprained ankle, and had no idea visiting the clinic would actually decrease their odds of seeing the next week! Though she wouldn’t be surprised if they were still mostly around a week from now, given how long it takes her to digest. She supposed she should feel remorseful… but at present, she more just felt sorry for herself! “Come on… just relax and stop — uugh — wriggling… I have to see another patient in fifteen minutes, okay? You’re not getting out of there no matter what, so just — urrrrp — be a dear and just digest for me, okay?” Of course, her words did little to soothe her unlucky prey. It was all the poor, gluttonous nurse could do to plop her fat body upon the couch, letting out the occasional belch as she pressed her fingers deeply into her taut, sensitive belly like a cat kneading a carpet, hoping this terrible belly ache would just go away already…