Gut stabbed

A warm summer evening, I took a trip to McDonalds before they close. I treat myself to three large menus, ice cream for dessert, cake and three large milkshakes. After that, I'm fuller than I've been in a long time. My fat belly bulges like a giant ball under my shirt. Moaning with pleasure, I rub my stomach, which is so bulging that it hurts. Then I pull myself up and clumsily walk to my car. In the dark, deserted parking lot, a man suddenly approaches me. His face is covered by a black balaclava, in his hand flashes a screwdriver, which he menacingly points at me. "Not a peep," he hisses, "pull your shirt up, I want to see your belly!"

Disturbed, I bared my bulging, heavy belly, a sight that obviously aroused the man very much. "Oh yeah," he moans, "such an awesome fat belly!" He steps closer, still pointing the screwdriver at me like a gun, and starts rubbing my bare hairy paunch with his free hand. His hand is rough and demanding, I moan because the hard pressure on my bulging stomach hurts. But I also feel that this painful procedure excites me. He now pushes his thumb into my deep belly button and starts to finger it hard. Like a ram he hits my sensitive guts again and again. I can feel the pain spreading all over my belly. My moans grow louder, mingling with the man's excited gasps. I close my eyes, stretch my gut out, which makes the hard fingering even more intense. Suddenly I feel something cold in my navel. I look down at myself and realize that the man has inserted the screwdriver into my belly button, which is now sliding lower and is already bumping against the bottom of my gut hole. I look at my opponent in panic and shake my head. "No, please!" But the man nods, and I'm sure he's smiling under his mask. "Yes!" The pressure on the bottom of my navel increases. "Not in my belly," I choke out, just as the screwdriver breaks through my navel with an SHLRP and relentlessly pierces fat and muscle all the way into my guts. A sharp pain runs through my belly. I exhale with an agonized sound, clutching my gut and feeling the screwdriver handle nudge against my plump paunch. The full length of the blade is stuck in my fat belly!

The man steps back and watches what the gut wound is doing to me. It's an agonizing pain raging through my belly. The blade has clearly perforated my guts, causing horrible convulsions. I press both hands on the big, bulging pot and push it out far with a deep moan. "Aaaaahhhh, my belly! Oooooohhhh! Urgghhh!” I gasp and squirm. The man comes back to me and starts rubbing my fat, aching belly again. Blood spurts out of the navel. The tearing pain is overwhelming. Groaning, I press my tank into his roughly walking hands. His pressure on my sore guts increases, his panting gets louder. The cruel pain torments and excites me at the same time. Suddenly, the man grabs the handle of the screwdriver, twists it around in my navel, and pulls it out in one quick movement. I can clearly feel my guts tearing apart. With a stifled yelp, I stagger back, clutching my belly button with both hands. I groan and stare at my tormentor. "Why???" I moan. "A hot big belly like yours has to bleed!" is the answer. Then the man disappears in the dark.

I stagger back to McDonalds, half senseless from the pain. I can feel bowels oozing out of the wound, blood spurting out between my fingers. With the last of my strength, I drag myself through the automatic door, stagger to the counter, where I fall on my knees. Some customers cried out in shock. "Fuck, his belly!" I hear someone say. Then everything goes very quickly. People come to my aid, lean me against the counter. Someone calls 911 while others try to stop the bleeding with napkins. "He got it right in his fat gut." "Man, straight in his belly button." The pain has become unbearable. I squirm and moan, pushing my big belly out again and again when a cramp is digging particularly badly in my guts. "Wow, look at how his big belly is trembling." The pain takes my breath away, my poor gut heaving up and down. I rub my sore paunch, feeling how rock hard the thick ball feels under my hands. Suddenly an ambulance is there, paramedic. The doctor looks at the wound, feels my gut, which makes me moan in agony. "Can you tell me what happened?" I hear his voice from far away. "Screwdriver," I groan. "Did you get stabbed in the abdomen with that?" I nod with an effort. Then the world around me sinks into darkness and tearing pain.

When I regain consciousness, I'm in intensive care. A long abdominal incision runs from the breastbone to the crotch. The belly feels swollen and hurts dull. I gently touch the sore gut and feel a strange mixture of relief and excitement before consciousness fades again. I don't know how long I've been sleeping, but my consciousness returns as I feel a sustained pressure on my gut. A man in a sterile gown stands by my bed, his gloved right hand resting heavily on my belly button, his face half hidden behind a surgical mask. But one look into his eyes is enough to recognize who is standing in front of me. It's the man who stabbed me in the gut! I gasp in panic, but he soothingly strokes my sore tank and leans towards me. "No fear! We'll let your hot, fat belly heal in peace. This will be a painful time, it has torn your guts properly. But when you're back on your feet, I'll come back and make your big belly bleed. Look forward to it, I know you want it too!” And with that he leaves, leaving me distraught. I feel scared but I must admit that it also gets me incredibly aroused!