I Believe Her Name Might Have Been Olivia, If That Helps

I found it!! Ask away folks

fart kink asks

1. When did you realize you were into farts?

2. How did you figure out you were into farts?

3. What’s your favorite type of fart?

4. Are there any types of fart you don’t like?

5. What about farting do you find most appealing?

6. Do you have a preferred length or volume for farts?

7. Does farting turn you on on its own or do you need to already be in the mood?

8. Do you have any other digestion-related kinks?

9. Do you have any other kinks that you enjoy being paired with farting?

10. Is farting a must in sexual situations or is it more of a bonus?

11. Have you ever acted on your desires IRL in an explicitly kinky manner?

12. Is having a partner who can fart well important to you?

13. Does anyone you personally know know about your kink?

14. Has anyone ever noticed/suspected your kink without you telling them about it?

15. Is there any media that you enjoy specifically for farts in it?

16. Do you have a favorite farting-related content creator (on tumblr or otherwise)?

17. Would you ever consider recording your farts?

18. Are you a shy farter or do you fart freely?

19. Are you good at farting?

20. Do you prefer farting yourself or hearing others fart?

21. Have you ever gotten into trouble for farting in a place or situation where you shouldn’t have?

22. Have you ever gotten turned on by farting in an inconvenient place or situation?

23. Have you ever tried to make yourself gassy in order to fart?

24. Do you have any favorite foods or drinks for encouraging farting?

25. What’s your biggest fantasy involving farting?

reblog if you’re curious about what people want to know about your kink!

Hey everyone!

I'm so sorry my blog has been so dead, it's a mix of laziness and education 🫠 but I figured I should let you all know ....

During the past two days, I've had an unholy amount of rich hearty and fried foods, and I havent pooped since Friday 🥴 I can't promise much due to being incredibly busy, but I'm going to try to hold until this Thursday or Friday and try to release in public if I can!

Also sorry about my askbox my mental capacity is very low ugh 🫠😭

Ok so I know I promised an audio but that does not mean I am tech savvy enough to have already figured out how to upload it

Edit: ok turns out I physically can't do it with the software I have 😭 but!! As compensation I will reward my beloved followers with a shitty (literally) fic!

Edit: if I get my hands on the holy Grail that is maltitol, I think I can upload a video~~~

Bellies noises being audibly noticed without a mic pressed up ?

I should get my shit together and provide more that :) More and more people are becoming interested in it.

first kink oc!!

This is is a remake/alt of a sfw oc I've created, so I'm still working out their alternate name. Any suggestions would be welcome!

Tw drugs, scat, farts, hunger

main points:

She/they, in their 20's

Highschool dropout

Is a ship technician in a sci-fi fantasy world

Very jaded and apathetic, she's had a rough past and doesn't exactly know how to love

but ultimately feels and loves through acts of service and gifts

Pottymouth lol

Tatted and pierced up, dyed hair, slim figure

drugs not hugs 🥲

Emojis for the sake of my beloved color coordination: 🎆🔧👾

Kink points:

cursed and it's given them awful tummy issues >:3

shes slim and skinny but always has a bloated hard lower tummy fulllll of trapped gas and shit

Often she can't go for several days at a time, and her farts are absolutely putrid and rotten 🥵

and when their bowels finally loosen up it's near unpredictable so she's taken to going in her pants whenever she can't find a bathroom bc well she can't miss the opportunity to empty themselves!

neglects to eat bc she's not too good at self care, she's often really high, and she's very focused on her work and projects

And so their tummy growls are very strained and squealy like it's being wrung out inside her 🥴

Usually she ignores it until someone points it out or she has immediate access to food, she's used to not eating for long periods since her poverty-stricken background has affected her

I'll edit this post as I add more to them, and I look forward to playing with this oc!

Edit: I'm calling them eve

First oc fic w/ Eve!! 🎆🔧👾

Thank you all for 40 follows!! At first I made this with AI for help which is why it's in second person (I made the rest myself, it's really only the eloquent parts that AI wrote lmao) but I tried to express the character's emotion and personality through the inner monologue. Sorry this is long and that I'm not the best writer! Also I didn't detail the character all too well bc I didn't want to specify it was them at the time

Warnings: scat, farts, messing, constipation, NSFT

Also maaaaybe I'll explore her kink journey in further installations~

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You're naked, fresh out of the shower. Since being cursed, you smell like death no matter how much you scrub yourself. You may as well give up at this point.

Even worse, your lower stomach is big enough to make you look pregnant. You're bloated as hell. You started this job a few weeks ago, and you've been way too tired and busy to shit– not that you could in a timely manner if you tried. Your guts had always been like this, constantly backed up with a ton of solid shit that refused to come out for at least a few days at a time. This damn curse has only made everything worse for you.

You let out an irritated sigh and palm the hard mass in your belly. You feel so full of shit, it's all so hard inside of you. You feel some pressure build up, and you force out a hot fart. It's tiny and silent, but the steam in the bathroom amplifies the rotten smell. You wrinkle your nose at the stink. That was awful even for you.

You put on a cropped shirt, a jacket, boyshorts, and some loose, ripped sweats. You still look bloated in these. Hell, your belly stuck out past your boobs- not like your boobs were ever even big enough to warrant a bra most days. You left the bathroom with another tiny, putrid puff of gas.

…

You and the crew are on break, preparing for your next mission. While tinkering with a new weapon, the pain in your packed guts reemerges. You break a sweat with how much it's cramping. You press deeply into the side where it hurts most. When you least expect it, it gurgles. Your stuck, backed up guts _gurgled. Things were finally moving down there, thank fuck. You would use the restroom soon, just implement a couple more parts…_

Your stomach gurgled again, a high-pitched whine of pressurized gas that descended into a deep groan. You reflexively put your hand to your bloated mess of a belly, feeling the taut surface under your skin. You gave it a small slap, and shook it. You could feel the gas bubbles crowding towards your asshole, and you eagerly pushed.

You expected a silent hiss as usual, but this fart was like a small foghorn compared to your normal track record. You quickly muffled it with your jacket pulled off and shoved under you, letting the rest of the fart rumble out of you for what felt like a whole minute as you rubbed and pushed into your bloated belly. The tainted jacket is still warm with your gas, and in your solitude and curiosity, you bring it up to your face to smell it.

The stench is overpowering. It's the awful odor of rotten meat and mold, yet it's earthy and sweet. You huff it deeply, reaching down to graze your fingers over your clothed clit. _The fuck? How is this turning you on? You've hated being bloated with a shit-ton of gas and shit all the time, even if eventually releasing it all was… borderline orgasmic. …Fuck, did you have any more in you?_

You did, in fact, have another fart coming. Still huffing your own fumes off the jacket, you rubbed your belly eagerly. You felt gas traveling throughout your lower left colon and further down. You quickly pulled down your pants, then shoved the jacket between your flat asscheeks. You pushed, burning hot gas rushing out of you with a muffled noise like that of a brass instrument. This fart was even longer, ending with a series of wet bubbles. You bit back what would have been an audible moan.

You brought the jacket to your nose, and sniffed. It was so strong, you felt almost lightheaded. You were wet with pleasure down there, and you began rubbing yourself over your panties. You moaned aloud this time, soft enough to be sufficiently muffled by the jacket. _What the hell, why not?_ You muffle a few rancid burps in the jacket between whiffs, savoring the intoxicating mix of gas from both your ends.

Just as you fart on your jacket again, a solid mass pokes out from between your cheeks. Fuck. You think to rush to the bathroom, but then again… You remember the last times you ran to the bathroom only to get it stuck again. These boxers were as old as shit, and you had spare panties. You sat back while on your knees, leaning forward and pushing into your stomach. _May as well try._

Grunting softly, you begin to push out the first log. It feels so wide, maybe as thick as your (admittedly skinny) wrists. You brace yourself against the wall, legs splayed apart for balance, and push harder. The log emerges inch by inch, dry and hard from being in your guts for ages. It breaks apart in your boxers as it exits. You grunt again, face contorted in effort, and finally, with a soft plop, the log is free.

You're not done, you can definitely feel more coming. You manage to free a second log, even larger than the first, with a grunt and a groan. It lands with a wet thud in your boxers on top of the first one. You're sweating now, your body shaking with the effort. You lean forward, both hands pressing into your lower abdomen, feeling the next one ready to emerge. You groan, a low, guttural sound, and push again.

Your body strains with the effort, every muscle taut as you bear down. The third log is the largest yet, and it takes several tries before you feel it begin to slide out. You brace yourself, panting heavily, and with one final, powerful push, it crackles out into your boxers, stretching them out from how full they are. You manage a few more small logs of shit before slumping back, panting and drenched in sweat.

You moan quietly, cupping the back of your boxers with one hand. The mass is fucking heavy, and you feel so much lighter. Your hole is sore, and your pussy is throbbing from the ecstasy of relief.

Just when you think it's over, a sudden series of loud gurgles ripples through your colon, shaking your stomach and rushing towards your hole. You clutch your stomach and _push._

A thunderous fart rushes out of your ass, rumbling on for ages. The sound is barely muffled by your mess, as it's heavy enough to have weighed your panties down away from your butt. Your stomach doesn't stop gurgling, all your gas finally unstuck and feeling almost infinitely generated inside of you.

Long, wet, bubbling farts blast out of you one after another. They go on, getting wetter and wetter, burning with heat as they come out.

_ssplrt_

_Shit- Gods, fuck, your stomach is cramping. This mess is gonna get ten fucking times worse..._ A sickeningly wet shart then blasts out of you, splattering your mess with the cherry on top that is a torrent of liquid diarrhea. You can feel your stomach deflate as the last of your shit demons are exorcized.

You slump over against the wall. _The fuck else can you do? Holy shit... literally._ You take a deep breath in. The air is polluted with the rotten smell of your shit- shit that's been fermenting in your guts for fucking weeks. Your loose hole is still spilling with a few airy farts as you catch your breath.

_Great. How the hell are you gonna clean this up?_

First time posting a writing...

----

Content: Semi-unwilling pred, multiple prey, size difference (prey are like palm sized), safe vore, soft vore, very willing prey

---

All Michael wants is to get out of here. Distract his mind from the hurricane that's having it's way in his head. The dread, the fear, the anxiety that eats away at his skin.

Maybe that's why he decided to go tramping aimlessly into the woods. No one around to hate him. No one around to fear the judgement of. He knows he'll be fine. To get back, all he has to do is follow the quiet until it breaks away into the noise of the city. But that's for later. Much later. These woods are better than trying to ignore the smell of people everywhere, of his friends, of his family. Just grass and leaves as far as the eye can see. The lingering scents of animals, leaving their marks in the underbrush. And… something… sweet? The air tastes almost like fruit, yet he sees none around. If there was an orchard nearby, he'd know, right? There'd be a massive farmer's market in town or something.

Michael stops and looks up. There's a trail of small winking lights floating among the branches. They almost remind him of fireflies. The presence of those same bugs might be why he didn't register these at first. He reaches up and pokes one. It sparkles, bursting into motes of light that slowly dissolve into the air.

Curious, he follows the lights. Up ahead he can hear sparking pops, rushing water, and soft hisses of indistinct noise. The fruit-like smell grows stronger. The air feels thicker, thrumming with some substance he can't identify. He decides to think of it like a confusing alien humidity. As he pushes himself through a wall of bushes, he blinks at the sight in front of him.

It's… a party? Seemingly random objects crowd the place (giant mushrooms, sure, but why is there a brand-new sofa here?) and even more of those lights illuminate the area. It's like a star-filled sky, flooded with sparkling lights that are replaced as quickly as they wink out. Blurs of color and light move around the area. A buzz of movement fills his ears– like insect wings, like a whistling breeze, like rustling leaves. At first he wonders where the people are. Only once he focuses on the blurs do they start looking like definite forms to him. Small people, decked with– no, embedded with crystals.

The pit in his stomach grows deeper at the realization. Then it itches at his insides, insisting he stop ignoring it. He wanted to get away from people. Yet here he is, ending up in a throng of them. Maybe that's on him. Being stupid and following what was probably magical lanterns for fairies or something.

He backs up, trying to retreat to the other side of the bushes. The fragile branches snap around his arms.

"Hey!" Someone shouts, and he hopes that it's not directed at him. Then that someone flies into his vision, promptly dashing that hope. "You busy?"

"What?" Michael asks.

"I said, are you busy?" The fairy repeats, hovering in front of his face.

"I, uh. No. Why do you ask?"

"Great!" The fairy claps their hands together, beaming. "We need some variety over here. Make some requests, get crazy! Wishes, if you insist on it. We've got mana to burn."

"I'm…" He glances past them, into the thick of the gathering. Some faces have turned towards him. If he's leaving, it's not going to be unnoticed. Or unjudged.

"Sorry, I don't know what this is about. I don't want to intrude on your, uh, party?"

The fairy gives him an odd look. "It's a casting festival. We've been running out of ideas and we still have mox-ridden to take care of. So come on! Get in here, sit down."

That clears up next to nothing, but Michael nods like he understands. What he expected was a demand for why he's there, or maybe a yell for him to leave. Not… this.

"Um, okay." He never was good at speaking. He's not sure if this will be any different. Michael clumsily extricates himself from the bush, bringing plenty of leaves with him.

"Go, go!" A new voice shouts. He can feel the press of attention on him, of much smaller eyes following his comparatively giant self. The idea of standing feels nauseating. At least that confusingly pristine couch will come into use. He sits.

Michael picks a leaf out of his air.

"Allow me." Yet another stranger comes near him, waving their good arm. The other is stiff, composed entirely of gem. Or encrusted with it? He's not sure. Before Michael can figure that out, all the broken twigs and leaves in his hair transform into butterflies, fluttering away.

"Ah." He states. There's movement behind him, and the pressure of being watched is now crushing. God. These people are, what, palm-sized? Smaller? He doesn't know. Because he's not focusing on that. Definitely. Most certainly not. But there's a bunch behind his head on the back of the couch now aren't they. Why are they there. He's boring he's not interesting.

Something hisses, and he decides to ignore the basket of rubber snakes someone just manifested.

"You don't talk much, do you?" The first stranger says. Michael isn't sure when they followed him, or if they were there all along. He just sort of shakes his head, feeling too sick to speak.

"Hey, wait." The crystal-ridden fairy gestures out their good arm, holding a hand out. "Hold up your hand."

Confused and too afraid to say no, he does so. They press their hand against his finger, thoughtful.

"Oh, this is perfect. You drain magic!"

"Uh. I– sorry. I don't, I don't think I can make it stop. Is that… is that gonna be a problem?" He asks despite knowing the answer is yes.

"Not at all!" The fairy laughs at him, and there's tittering behind his head. The fear of why they're laughing drowns out the actual words.

"I've got an excellent idea. You're a vampire, aren't you?"

"You can tell that fast?" He asks.

"Not many things can be mana sinks and alive beings." The fairy pauses. "Technically alive."

Before he can ask what being a vampire has to do with anything, another voice pipes up.

"Eat us!"

Alarmed, Michael spins around to stare at the miniature crowd behind him. "Huh??"

There's a chorus of agreement, of laughter, and beaming smiles. He starts to wonder if his hunger is making him delusional.

"Look!" The same voice cries, now identified as belonging to glowing blue fairy. "This is a golden opportunity. We need to burn mana, you need to absorb energy. It's an easy solution!"

"But why– why eating? Isn't that dangerous for you?"

"Psht," A green fairy scoffs, "We could get out even if wanted to stop us."

"Are… are you sure? If you get out with magic, and I'm… taking it…?"

"Just one of us has way more mana than you could ever take at once. And guess what! You take it best through eating, which is why that's the only way it'll actually make a difference." At this point he isn't sure who's speaking. They're all strangers to him, overwhelming and bright. The constant switching is making his head spin.

"Look," A brash voice says, "We’re basically doing you a favor.”

Something pokes his belly, and Michael reflectively swats at the offending person. They easily flit backwards out of reach, giggling at him.

“I’m–”

“Come on!”

“I…” Michael glances away, frighteningly aware of the gathering crowd around him. He clutches his shirt, pressing his fist into his middle. A rumble teases him in return. They'll be fine. They'll be fine? And he. He doesn't think he can get out of this situation anyway. He'd been desperate to avoid his friends and their insisting, but this is astronomically worse. The anxiety and the hunger alike dig at his insides. "Okay."

There's a pregnant pause.

"Open up, then!" Someone shouts. Admonished, Michael opens his mouth, displaying his fangs and empty throat. All of a sudden there's a taste on his tongue. A slight weight presses against it, and wings tickle against the roof of his mouth. He flinches, snapping his jaws shut and reflexively swallowing to rid himself of the feeling. Something wriggles down his throat in surprise.

He looks down at his stomach in a panic.

“Shit! Shit, I'm sorry, you– I didn’t mean to throw you down so fast–”

“Forget that! It’s my turn!” Another fairy presses tiny hands against his lips.

“Uh–?” The moment his mouth opens, they push inside, kicking their legs against his teeth to propel themselves down his throat. In that moment, he’s grateful he no longer has a gag reflex. He swallows, and their lemony taste slips past his tongue along with them. Michael doesn't know if he should be glad for or dreadful of the rapid pace.

His stomach seems to have no opinion one way or the other, merely growling at the prospect of being fed. There's a tittering of excitement around him.

Another approaches, face eager. He hesitates, but opens up his mouth for them. God, another. How many will there be? He hasn't bothered to count the amount around him, but he hopes it's not all of them. The way his gut gurgles implies disagreement.

Someone touches his middle again, and he gently waves them away. He can't speak, not with the current fairy deciding to take their time searching his mouth. His tongue twitches, and it's with great chagrin he realizes he's drooling. They taste like sugar. Artificial fruit. They push forward, and Michael takes that as a sign to swallow. He can feel the warmth of energy slip past his throat, moving deeper inside him. It collects in his stomach. He doesn't dare look down at it.

Even as that someone tries to touch him again.

"What are you doing?" He snaps, unable to help it.

"I want to see if I can feel anyone from out here," They say, perturbed.

"Well– just don't. If you want to touch anything, do it from inside." Even as he says them, Michael regrets the words.

"You hear that? You're next!"

"That's not what I–" He stammers, trying to correct the assumption, but they're already staring up at him with such big, desperate eyes. The noise dies in his throat. How is he supposed to deal with a look like that? Michael sighs and opens his mouth. The fairy, eager as the rest, dives in. It's some small relief that he can't choke. He swallows, pressing fingers against his lips. The taste of their skin lingers, crystalline and sweet. The movement of their small body disappears inside him.

That's what he wants to think, anyway. In reality, he can feel squirming inside his gut. Small pressures that he can feel for moments, only for his stomach to disguise the sensation with a deep growl. Hunger still itches at him. The edge has been weaned off, dulled. But he doesn't feel full. Doesn't feel satiated. As much as he hates to admit it, this crowd might be right. They're kind of doing him a favor. Instead of going home and starving, hoping he won't do anything…

With an uncertain sort of confidence, he holds his tongue out. Michael doesn't even see this one, only knows they're in his mouth. He draws his mouth closed, and– oh, no, okay, a second has decided to clamber in. Michael hums in protest. With his tongue he presses one against the inside of his cheek, swallowing one at a time. There's a little bit of a rhythm now.

The way they slide down his throat. His stomach squirms, and he grimaces. The sensation is foreign, and he can't tell if the movement makes him feel sick or thrilled. That's a pretty consistent doubt, though. Not knowing if he's happy or disgusted by the situation at hand.

"Me next! Me next!"

"One second…" he pauses, taking a deep breath. How many has he eaten? He hasn't been counting, but it feels like far too many. Not enough. He wonders whether he'll be able to fit all of the fairies that flutter around his head. They stare expectantly at him, hover above his shoulders, lower in front of his stomach. Is it sticking against his shirt now? Now that he looks at it, he can see it glowing with a handful of different colors. They flicker and move through his skin.

"Right."

Michael's stomach growls again. At the end of this, he's going to be stuffed…

some of u cum/feel pleasure so easily it makes me feel a little homicidal

One of the upsides of having a partner who likes eprocto/eructo is the lack of pressure (figuratively and literally)

like if we're out about it you could burp and rip ass in our face and we'd literally thank you, serve you, and cum for it

I'll likely have characters on this blog to play around with, but for now you can ask me :3

Hunger Kink OC Ask Game!

So I noticed a lot of people in the hunger kink community are coming up with OCs rn and I think we should have a game to get to know them better! Obviously this can be used for any kind of OCs, not just ones made specifically for hunger kink, but that's what these questions will be based on!

🍌 What's your favorite quick snack to have when you're too hungry to make a big meal?

😋 When were you the hungriest you've ever been in your life?

🔊 Is your stomach loud when you're hungry? Or is it mostly silent rumbles and hunger pangs?

🍲 What's a meal you make that always makes your stomach rumble for it, even if you didn't think you were hungry in the first place?

🫘 When was a time when you had a meal that was just a little too small, and left your stomach growling for more?

🤤 What foods do you crave when you're hungry?

😖 How would you describe the feeling of hunger for yourself? Does it feel good, does it hurt, does it make you excited to eat, or just make you wish it would end?

⏰ How often does your stomach growl?

🫣 Are you embarrassed when your stomach rumbles, or is it just a normal thing for you?

👥 When is a time that your stomach growled in front of someone else?

🍽️ Have you ever done a fast on purpose? How long did you go?

🤔 Do you forget to eat often? If so, what meal do you tend to forget about?

🗯️ When was the time your stomach growled the loudest?

🚫 What do you usually do when your stomach begins to rumble, but you can't eat right away?

😱 Has your stomach ever growled and surprised you because of it? Either because you didn't know you were hungry, or because of how loud it was?

👂 Do other people tend to notice when your stomach rumbles? Have they ever said anything about it?

👀 Do you tend to notice when OTHER people's stomach growl? Do you ever say or do anything?

😳 What's a time when you've heard someone's stomach rumbling around you?

🌎 Where were you was the last time your stomach rumbled? In a public place, at home?

☀️ What time of day would you say you get the hungriest? Is your stomach the loudest then too?