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He had enjoyed playing with the kid over the past couple days, jerking himself off to his whimpers and weak squirms, telling him about how long he had been waiting to do this. He even belched up the kids musky taste a couple times, making him bust almost immediately.

And there he was, laying in his post-nut haze, his gut sprawled across his lap as it churned the twitching boy inside. A sudden knocking awoke the man, and the young boy in his gut. A glimpse of hope struck the boy as he began thrashing again, his muffled cries for help making Carl hard again.

There was another series of louder knocks before Carl heard the words…. Carl panicked as the boy began writhing in his gut, his squirms hitting a fever pitch as Carl felt his hoarse screams echo within his gut. There was another politely passively aggressive series of knock just as the rumbling gurgle reached its destination.

His puckered hole suddenly belched a disgustingly wretched blast of air: some mix of rotten meat and the unforgettable stench of digesting boy. Carl came immediately. The teen thrashed even harder before the abdominal muscles suddenly clenched down on him, holding him in place before….

His left arm shattered as the boy wailed even louder. Carl quickly sprung into action, quietly pulling himself off the couch with lbs of teen in his gut. He waddled to the nearest hiding spot, which happened to be his laundry room. He knew the boy was still mostly in tact in his gut, and could very easily be released from his gastric prison—but Carl quickly came up with a morbid solution.

He shoved his gut against the washing machine, heading the teen call out for his father to save him.

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The boy began to shake and scream as he felt the ungive surface begin to squeeze the air out of him. A loud groan rumbled beneath the surface of his gut as the boy let out a final shrill holler. Carl shamelessly panted as he leaned with all his weight on the washing machine, dying as he tried to catch his breath after such a feat.

He wiped the sweat off his brow before he glanced over at the doorway, Don Lannister staring in awe for God knows how long. I was visiting my dad's adopted brother, Uncle Mike, for the weekend as my parents were out of town, and this was a big problem for me. See, I'm 19, but they'd rather not leave me home alone after an accident last year.

Now, the reason it was bad for me? I've always had this Fantasy, you could call it? Of going up and just rubbing on his glorious gut God, it's so big and hairy, but smooth at the same time. I just want to shove my face into it every time i see it and listen for hours. Que me arriving there and my parents leaving.