mistress-and-servant:

Butlers and Oatmeal

He woke up feeling groggy and still heavy from the night before. Cold air was tickling the underside of his belly and he instinctively tried to pull his nightshirt down in vain. It didn’t even budge, actually bouncy up more after he let go to expose more of his corpulent form. He brought a hand to his tummy and groaned. He was still so bloated from the feast the night before. He took a second to breathe in, and then tried to sit up. He struggled but ultimately fell back down on his back, the bed creaking as he did so. His whole body jiggled, including his belly, and he felt something quickly rise up from the depths of his gut into his throat. He was too slow to stop the massive belch and blushed as he rubbed his belly. It was a good thing his Mistress wasn’t with him, or he’d be even more embarrassed.

He tried to lean one side to help make it easier to get up. He rocked back and forth, his belly wobbling in the air, until he was finally able to roll onto his side. Not being pinned down to the bed by his tummy felt so much better to him now, and he forced himself to finally sit up. His belly flopped onto his thick thighs, close to reaching his knees if he wasn’t careful. His shirt had completely ridden up to just below his chubby moobs. He finally noticed the pinching feeling just below his belly from the too small shorts he wore to sleep. He didn’t really care how ill fitting his night clothes were, as long as his suits and outfits still fit him relatively ok. He scratched the back of his fluffy cat ears as a form of encouragement to ready himself to get up on his paws. He braced himself with one hand on the bed, and used the other to cradle his belly. With a grunt he slowly made it onto his feet, slightly unstable, but with his tail sticking out to counteract the weight on his front, he was able to keep his balance.

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