Kinktober Day 5: Embarrassment/Humiliation

I knew it was happening, even before I heard the sound. Had expected it for days.

I had not expected that it would happen in public.

My girlfriend was talking a little too loud, just enough to make people turn to look at us curiously, just enough to push past the limits of my comfort zone. “C’mon, piglet, I’m still waiting for you to finish your food.” There were two plastic trays stacked on top of each other, piled with the detritus from that afternoon’s foreplay. I was working on the food from the third tray she’d ferried over to me. Twenty minutes before, it had held two massive burritos, a few side orders of tortilla chips, nachos with extra everything, and some sweet cantaloupe agua fresca to wash everything down.

The first burrito was gone, demolished in less than a dozen bites. I was working on the nachos next. I had no idea how I would finish the rest. I felt like I’d swallowed a bowling ball, plus some concrete on top of that. This was my biggest stuffing yet, and the first time I’d ever stuffed myself in such a public place. I never would’ve done it on my own. I wasn’t usually an exhibitionist, aside from some faceless videos I’d post of myself on YouTube. But my girlfriend had said it would be hot.

She wasn’t wrong.

When I slowed down she said, “What’s wrong? Too full to finish all the food you got yourself, fatass?” She rested her chin on the backs of her hands. “Too bad, chubs. We don’t waste food.”

I felt the seams of my shorts straining. They were a little too small for me anyway, and my gluttonous afternoon was pushing them over the edge. The waistband cut into my stomach, which sat in my lap like a heavy beach ball. I was still at that stage where most of me still looked skinny and everything went straight to my gut. If I wore the right shirts, I could almost fool people into thinking I was still the bony beanpole I’d always been. But I was wearing a shirt two sizes too small that day.

I picked up a nacho, making sure to get one with all the fixings, and hummed happily as I crunched into it. I was so fucking full, but everything tasted so good that I kept pushing myself. I could tap out if I really needed to, but the look in my girlfriend’s eyes made it clear that finishing my food would earn me some god-tier rewards.

I felt it before I heard it. My stuffed-hard stomach pushed forward, pressing against the table now that my shorts were no longer holding it back by a quarter inch. There was a ping against the metal underside of the table as the button went flying, and then the sound of my zipper being pushed down. It was a relief at first to have the pressure in my stomach reduced just slightly, but my girlfriend made sure the physical relief was tempered with a heaping helping of public humiliation. Her eyes were wide. “Did you just pop the button on your shorts? Oh my god, you’re such a fucking fatty!” Her voice was loud and drenched with lust and she had the biggest grin on her face. I could feel other people staring as I continued to eat, and even though I was enjoying myself, shame flooded through me.

Lucky for her, my pants weren’t the only thing that decided to give up right then. I’d worn the too-small button-up on the off-chance I could actually eat my way out of it. I was hoping for a button or two to go flying. What actually happened was more dramatic. My shirt ripped, right down the belly. Rather than the buttons giving way, the seams just beside them did. The drum-tight skin of my stomach pushed through, widening the gap further. “Holy shit, you’re such a pig that you’re eating yourself out of your clothes in public!” my girlfriend cackled. I heard someone sitting nearby make a noise of complete disgust. I felt my cock twitch.

“We’re still not leaving until you finish up, you fat fucking hog,” she cooed. “Even if it means you leave here naked.”

Somehow, I finished, shame fueling my appetite. The gap in my shirt grew as I ate, until a good three inch-wide segment of my ball gut was exposed. “Good job, piglet,” my girlfriend said as she patted my cheek. I thought I might puke. “Get up. Let’s show these good folks just how good and fat you are.”

I forced myself to stand up. The tear in my shirt got even wider. I cradled the underside of my belly, the weight of it setting me off balance.

Just before we got to the door to head to the parking lot, some friends of mine walked in. I immediately moved to try and hide the gap in my shirt with my hand, but my girlfriend grabbed my hand in hers, forcing me to remain exposed. She leaned up toward me and whispered, “Show them what a real pig looks like.”

It took a moment for them to recognize me, their jaws dropping when they did. My girlfriend waved and smiled at them like everything was normal. All their eyes flicked down to the heavy food baby I was cradling. “Jesus, dude, what did you eat?” one of them asked. “You look like you cleared out the whole food court by yourself.”

“Did your gut tear through your shirt? You really gotta cut back, that’s not right,” another chimed in.

I opened my mouth to reply, to try and make some excuse for myself, but all that came out was a loud, long belch. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I managed to mumble, “See you around, guys,” as my girlfriend guided me out the door and toward the car, laughing and so happy she was nearly skipping.

I slipped into the passenger seat, struggling to buckle my seatbelt. “You did so good, baby,” she said as she gave my stomach a gentle rub before starting the car, all sweetness now that we were alone again. “You really put on a show for them.” She traced around my exposed bellybutton with a fingertip, then teased at the ragged edges of my shirt. “How did it feel? Having everyone stare at you like that?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resting my hand over hers, my stomach gurgling loudly. “It felt like I’ll never be able to show my face in public again, and also like I’ve never been more turned on in my life.”

She smiled as she started the car. “Then let’s get you home and take care of that, piglet. You earned it.”