15 minutes of fame

[lolitics_meme]

There will be no freeze until after the conferences are over, should you want a freeze at all.

The usual things:

1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post
the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts
and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first

Comments

Fill - D/s, Caning and Force-Feeding 3/4

[anonymous]

When he finally broke the kiss, Peter licked his lips in that teasing way of his and sighed with pleasure. Again, he put both his hands on Alastair's stomach and rubbed, kneeding him through his shirt, trying to soothe the discomfort that was threatening to turn into pain. Then Peter turned briskly back to the trays and resumed his looped cycle of selection, offering and observation. He saw Alastair's mouth become messier and his breathing grow laboured as he struggled to eat the doughtnuts as quickly as they were offered.

By the time they were half way through the third box, Alastair was gasping and nauseous, his bound arms flinching every time Peter forced another doughnut between his lips. "Please," he moaned around a mouthful of cream, "let's just take a break, yeah? I... I can't eat any more."

"Yes, you can," Peter insisted. "Here. Doesn't that look delicious?" He was holding out a ring doughnut with thick brown icing and chocolate sprinkles, wafting it in front of Alastair's face. He grabbed the other man's collar and held him still. "Doesn't it smell good? Are you really going to turn your nose up at a treat like this?"

Although Alastair squirmed, Peter could see he had long since been drained of the energy to resist - the will was still there, but the strength was not. If he were truly repulsed by the sight of food he would safeword, Peter thought smugly, so part of him must still be enjoying the gluttony. "Come on," Peter breathed, "don't deny yourself what you want. Eat it."

"Can't."

"Eat it."

He couldn't resist any more. Trained as he was to obey, albeit not trained well enough to do so without complaint, Alastair lifted his head and bit at the doughnut. He whined in pain as Peter shoved the remainder gleefully down into his mouth and squashed it in with a thumb, seizing Alastair's jaw and staring while he chewed. "It tastes good, doesn't it?" panted Peter, his eyes fixed greedily on the younger man's exhausted features. "You like it, don't you? Do you want another?"

Wearily, Alastair closed his eyes and swallowed as Peter's hands removed themselves to fetch more food. His over-full stomach churned at the thought, but he knew that if he ended it now he'd come to regret never having found out how far the two of them could take this. Sure, he'd entrusted his life to Peter before now. So what if he finished up puking? They'd know not to go so far again.

Another doughnut and another were crammed in before Peter relented for a time to assess the progression of Alastair's stomach. It had visibly swollen with the excess and was heaving in its constraints, straining at the button on his trousers. His shirt was riding upwards, revealing more skin with every tortured breath. The stirrings of arousal in Peter's groin turned to an unexpected hardness as he watched and poked at his partner's new belly. "Oh, goodness." Peter bent his neck, swooping down to lay a kiss on Alastair's protuding navel that turned into a suckle, then a bite. His teeth and his hands worked at the firm flesh and his hips began to grind into the matress, thrusting downwards in an attempt to satisfy the arousal he'd never realised could be so strong in response to having Alastair undignified and vulnerable like this. For just too long Peter lapped and stroked at the exposed shape of his partner's middle, before finally pulling back to leave a dark, damp bruise where his mouth had rested.

The temporary pause in the conveyor-belt-style provision of doughnuts had allowed Alastair time to get his breath back and quell his rising desire to vomit. He jumped when he felt warm dough on his lips once more, then sighed and relaxed, passive and almost unmoving while Peter stuffed his face. Ironically, he seemed to have passed the peak of discomfort already; although the heaviness and the guilt that always came with over-eating remained, it was easy to lie back and consume, and oddly satisfying to find himself filling out his clothes so well. True, the button on his waistband pinched, but after a while Peter seemed to notice and slipped it free to give him a little more breathing space. Things really weren't so bad. Time became a blur and everything turned to darkness and food.