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English
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Published:
2018-11-30
Completed:
2019-02-28
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1,214
Chapters:
2/2
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85
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Bubbly II: The Squeakquel

Summary:

That glass of champagne still wasn't through with Alexander.

(Includes tummy kink and flatulence, if it ain't your tea it ain't worth your time.)

Notes:

i actually wrote this within the same month as the first one, but i was like "hahaaa im not showing this to anyone" but ive decided... eh.

for the record, im just a big fan of desperation, i personally dont have a fart kink, or even a burp kink for that matter. i know the subject matter falls heavy into that court though, so i should tag it as such regardless of my actual thoughts.

(oh and uh heads up, i might post a second chapter containing an alternate ending to this sequel that is even more gross lol, i mean like it's already written, it's just a matter of deciding to post it or not and embarrass myself even further.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Hamilton collapsed into bed, glad to finally be home away from the eyes of the public. He so greatly favored the quiet life with his family over the busy stressfulness of his work. His stomach churned with food he had consumed at the party, as well as the remainder of the champagne that had him embarrassingly bloated and gassy. Thankfully much of the gas was relieved from his system, but for the rest of the night, he couldn't help but feel like the worst was yet to come.

That night, as he and Eliza lie in bed asleep, he awoke to an abrupt cramping in his stomach. Under the sheets, he gripped his belly tightly as it rumbled in distress. He grimaced as he felt the cramp move down his lower belly, and suddenly escape in a bout of flatulence. His eyes widened and cheeks burned in embarrassment. Even in the comfort of his own home, he so badly did not want to subject his wife to such atrocity, and hurried into their water closet. He leaned against the shut door behind him as he stomach cramped and rumbled again, desperate for relief. More gas passed as he seated himself down. Thankfully he did not feel unwell with looseness of the bowels, it was only the terrible return of that dreaded bubbly drink. His initial worry had been well placed, as it now churned violently in his lower belly.

The abominable fit of flatulence seemed to go on forever, sometimes passing gently, other times manifesting with a horrible pain that had him groaning as it ripped through him. All the while, he rubbed his bloated belly with both hands, in dire need of relief and comfort for the restless ache inside him. He nearly jumped at the sound of someone tapping on the door. He heard Eliza's voice as she asked if he was alright. He nearly reassured her he was feeling fine until his stomach cramped again. Instead he decided to be honest with her, how the horror of the champagne had returned, and how he was feeling even worse than his burping fit at the party. She questioned if his stomach was feeling lax, which he answered was not, and merely bloated with an embarrassing amount of gas. She cooed in sympathy through the door, and asked if he could come to bed for her to comfort him. His face burned hot at the thought of breaking continuous wind in front of his wife. They had been married for years now, and were no longer strangers to the peculiar, often embarrassing, nature of one another's bodies, but he still found passing gas to be far too shameful in the presence of his loved ones, especially one as dear to him as Eliza. His stomach cramped again, gurgling as another bout of gas threatening it's way out, and he politely declined her offer, choosing to stay in the watercloset. He had hoped she would give up and return to bed, to be out of earshot when he would inevitably break wind, but she instead asked for confirmation to his choice, even offering reassurance of unshakeable affection and no judgement. He shook his head and smiled to himself at how determined she seemed to be to comfort him in this unpleasant time, it was what he loved most about her. He considered complying with her when he mind went blank in the wake of another horrible cramp. He could no longer hold it back, his bloated belly rumbling furiously under his hands, and an enormous cloud of gas tore out of him, echoing into the champer pot below him. He collapsed back against the wall of the watercloset and sighed in relief. It was not over, but at least that last one was over and done with.

Fear struck him as the closet door creaked open, Eliza had been standing there during that last pass. Alexander shut his eyes tightly as he sunk in embarrassment. She reached out and lovingly stroked his cheek. He stood up, albeit hunched over in pain, and cradled his bloated gut with both hands as she guided him back to bed. He laid over the covers and winced as his stomach spasmed again. Eliza joined him by his side and kissed his cheek. With one hand, she ran her fingers through his hair and lightly stroked her nails against his scalp, and laid her other hand over Alexander's belly, rubbing it slightly in small circles before massaging his entire swollen abdomen in broader circles. Her touch was gentle enough to not cause him pain, but pressed just enough to get his gut moving. He tensed his shoulders as a familiar pressure swelled within him. A small but audible whimper sounded under his breath. Eliza shushed him as she continuously stroked both his hair and stomach.

"You'll feel better if you let it happen, darling".

What in the world did he do to deserve an angel such as his beloved Betsey?

Chapter 2: A Worse Alternate Ending

Summary:

That glass of champagne wasn't the only thing keeping Alexander up so late.

(Contains tummy kink, flatulence, and scat. If it ain't your tea, it ain't worth your time.)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Alexander's brow furrowed at the presence of an ominous warmth gathering in his lower belly, followed closely by a grumble more sinister than any other previous. A small bout of wet gas had him realize what was about to come, and soon. Eliza knowingly withdrew her hand as he threw the covers off him and ran quickly into the watercloset, sitting himself as a horrible sickness ripped through him. His lower belly convulsed and gurgled monstrously at the torrents, and he groaned miserably with every eruption. When it seemed to end, he cleaned himself and returned to bed, collapsing over the covers and moaning pitifully into the pillow at the lingering ache in his roiling gut. He wanted so badly to just return to the comforts of sleep, unfortunately his lower belly was not through, and in almost no time at all he was rushing back to the watercloset. He gripped his belly as it seared with pain, rumbling and spasming tremendously as wet gas ripped through him, bringing forth a furious torrent of burning liquid waste. It dragged on even longer than previously, as every blissful moment of ceased pain would be instantly killed by another wave of cramps and loose bowels. By the time he felt well enough to proceed in cleaning and leaving, he had grown five times more exhausted and miserable. He collapsed again on the bed, this time onto his backside, carelessly moaning aloud at the uneasiness in his gut. Eliza rolled onto her side to look at him, yawning as she asked if he was feeling any better. "For now", he answered with hopelessness in his words. He splade a hand over his still churning belly. The urgency had winded down greatly, but he still felt very unwell. She embraced him with sincerity and laid her head against his chest. She returned to massaging his aching belly, and winced at the sickly noises it made.

"Your poor belly sounds so sick."

He moaned in agreement, although her soothing touch seemed to be lulling him to sleep. The soreness in his abdomen devolved into harmless audible gurgles, and he sank into a deep sleep.

"Sleep well, my Alexander", Eliza whispered as she gave his belly one last pat before she herself returned to sleep.

Notes:

Lol this is what happens when you try really hard to appeal to your own desperation-kink, you end up right here, writing a literal scat fic. What have I got to lose? I'm already a kink-artist/writer.
I hope you guys with the scat and fart fetishes dig this at least, I'll be over here digging my own grave. X'D