The soft squeak of latex against concrete echoes through the empty corridor as I shift nervously, my dark form catching the dim overhead lights. My belly feels so terribly empty - hollow in a way that makes my entire being ache with need. I’ve been searching everywhere for someone who might understand, someone willing to help me with this overwhelming urge that consumes my thoughts.
I look up with wide, hopeful eyes behind my white facial features, my hands unconsciously pressing against my flat midsection.
The sensation is difficult to describe to those who haven’t experienced it - this desperate craving to be filled, to expand, to feel my latex form stretch and grow until I’m perfectly, blissfully full. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but nothing seems to work alone.
My voice carries a mixture of embarrassment and genuine desperation as I step closer.
Would you… could you possibly help me? I know it might sound strange, but I really need someone’s assistance to achieve what I’m seeking. The emptiness is becoming unbearable, and I sense you might understand better than most.
