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[pukelover1993]

Cutie throwing up from the stomach bug

[blvk-cpl-deactivated20250713]

Aaaand puke.

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Yeah…..I didn’t keep the cake down.

[blvk-cpl-deactivated20250713]

Nauseous Burps

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So Im not much of a sweet tooth, but unfortunately there isn’t much I won’t do when it comes to red velvet cake. So in this audio, enjoy hearing me regret my decision to over indulge in the sweet, spongy delicacy and try to keep it down as my stomach churns relentlessly. :)

[blvk-cpl-deactivated20250713]

Food Poisoning

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Seems as soon as yall asked, I was blessed with my first bout of food poisoning. I went golfing with some buddies and had a hot dog from the course snack shop. It tasted a little weird, but I didn’t think anything of it until 30 minutes later when my stomach felt like it was a washing machine. I kept drinking water to try to dampen the nausea….but that just resulted in me having a sloshy, queasy belly and sitting in front of my toilet as my stomach gurgled unhappily with me after I got home. I’ve never had food poisoning before this was interesting 😂

[blvk-cpl-deactivated20250713]

Gush after Gush

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So, in conclusion, do NOT fill your stomach with water when you think you have food poisoning. I instinctively kept trying to compulsively swallow back my sick; but obviously my stomach didn’t want any of it inside of me. This felt mad gross while it was happening, but I did feel better after I got it out. :)

[anon383837383]

Taco Bell Toilet

I’m sitting in front of the toilet, dripping in sweat and holding my stomach. It churns and whines and gurgles away. It’s my fault, I never should have eaten two week old Taco Bell, regular Taco Bell messes with my stomach so why did I think two week old burritos wouldn’t do worse. 

I can feel it coming - the inevitable is on its way. It churns and gurgles and burbles but somehow it hasn’t made its way to the toilet yet. My stomach is hard and bloated. I look 9 months pregnant. I burp and belch and spit a little but still nothing. I’m praying for it at this point just to get it over with but I know once it starts, it’s not gonna stop. 

It’s been an hour and nothing - no exiting, no relief. I don’t know what to do. I try to get up and go lay in bed but the second I do I feel a shift in my gut. I lean over the toilet and expect a waterfall to come out but to my surprise, nothing. I finally manage to get up and get to bed. I’m really hoping I just sleep it off. 

It’s 1:58 am. I wake up to my stomach bigger and more bloated than before. My mouth is full of…something and I feel raging diarrhea about to come! I RUN to the bathroom and quickly sit on the toilet. I grab the bucket and get ready. The diarrhea is just endless. It just goes and goes and goes. One burp sends up every once of food out my mouth and nose. The rancid sour cream, the old cheese, the bad beef burritos come flying up and out. It’s everywhere. I have zero control over anything right now. The second one end stops, the other comes out in full force. I finally stop having diarrhea but the puking on the other hand….the puking has just begun. I sit and wait because I know that it wasn’t done. I wouldn’t even believe what happened next if I wasn’t there to see…err experience it first hand. My stomach makes the loudest bubbling sound I’ve ever heard. Chunks of Taco Bell come out with extreme force and practically paint my bathroom. There’s bits and pieces of food everywhere. This goes on for another minute or two but it feels like hours. When I’m done, I’m exhausted, my bathroom is destroyed, but my stomach is finally empty and I feel better. 

[anon383837383]

Stomach Flu Misery

Two weeks ago the stomach flu ran through this house. My wife Amy, my oldest son Drew, and my youngest best son Chris all got the bug and were sick for days. I remember the gurgling, the churning, and nausea and the god awful puking and diarrhea (sometimes at the same time). I somehow managed to miss out on it, or at least I thought so. Each of them were sick for days with no breaks - just constant sickness. Amy and the kids were away this weekend for a soccer tournament and I had the house to myself. 

My day started out good! I woke up, got some stuff done around the house, ate some breakfast, things were fine. I started to get some gurgling in my belly but I thought it was nothing. By lunch time, my stomach was like a boiling pot and I knew exactly what was happening. “Fuck, no not now!” I said as I looked at my bloated stomach.  “No come on I thought I was in the clear!” My stomach boiled and bubbled and the nausea was at full force. I sat down and turned on the TV hoping a distraction might help calm me down. About 2 minutes into the show I had a hand over my mouth and a hand on my stomach. “Oh Crap I’m gonna throw-“ I couldn’t finish the sentence. I ran to the toilet and gripped onto it and a waterfall of vomit cascaded out of my mouth and nose. I struggled to catch my breath in between rounds. Sick just poured out of me again and again. I held onto that toilet until I was white knuckled. When I was done (or at least thought I was done) I sat back and looked at my stomach.  I sent so much stuff out of my stomach and it only gurgled and churned more. “Great, so much for a relaxing weekend” I said to my aching gut. 

I finally managed to get up and out of the bathroom, though it was only a matter of time before I was back in there. I remember when Chris had it, he was so sick he was having massive amounts of diarrhea while projectile vomiting into a bucket. It was bad. I really hope I didn’t get to that level. I sat back down on the couch where my stomach churned and gurgled. About an hour later I felt the diarrhea coming. Once again I rushed to the toilet where I unleashed holy hell onto it. In the middle of my stream I felt really nauseous but I managed to hold it all down. This is gonna be a really long weekend. 

A few hours passed and things were heading south…or out, you know what I mean! I felt beyond sick. My stomach looked like I was 47 months pregnant and it felt like I had a bag of snakes in there. I held it and tried to soothe it but it was no use. I had a bucket close to the couch and thank god I did because I woke up from a nap and immediately projectile vomited into it, nearly filling it up. My stomach kept churning so I went to the bathroom where it finally happened. 

The first wave of diarrhea hit me and came flying out like lava. In the middle of it, the nausea came back with a vengeance! My bucket was still by the couch and it was full from the last round. I tried. I tried so hard to hold it back but I just couldn’t do it. The bathroom trashcan was full and I couldn’t reach it. I had no choice but to lean over and violently vomit onto the floor. “Nnnngghhhh BLARGAHHAFRGHH” the god awful sound came out of me and all over the floor. My mouth and nose burned as it flew out. The diarrhea just kept coming and so did the vomit. I stopped vomiting for a second and that’s when I surveyed the damage. If I could throw the whole bathroom away I would. Now, as sick as I am, I have to clean up this mess. I mustered up the last bit of strength inside of me and cleaned this room. I also made sure I had plenty of buckets around so this wouldn’t happen again. I crawled my ass back into bed and plopped right down. I fell asleep for hours in that bed. I thought that last round was, well, the last round! 

It’s 3am and I wake up with the loudest gurgling I’ve ever heard. “Oh God not again” I think to myself. No, no, no this can’t be happening! I wish there was a word for what I felt because nauseous just didn’t sum it up. I tried to make it to the toilet but the first vomit was right there on the bedroom floor. When I felt more coming, I ran to the bathroom but barfed in the hallway. I was determined to finish this in the bathroom so I got back up and headed to the toilet. My stomach is SCREAMING at me at this point. When I reached that toilet I wrapped one arm around it (the other was around my stomach) and I don’t even know what happened. The amount of barf that left my mouth and nose was ungodly. In the middle of this powerful, loud, messy vomiting, my ass opens up and I shit my pants and all over the floor. This goes on for like 10 minutes. When I finish I look around and I’m horrified. There’s no way this is happening. I have to clean all this up and I don’t even know if I’m done or not! 

I clean everything up, every piece of shit and vomit is picked up. It’s a brand new day and I’m stuck in this cycle of sick. At this point I don’t even know how there’s anything left to get out of me. I think I’m done, the gurgling stopped (for the most part) and I’m not horrifically nauseous anymore. I get back into bed and pray I’m done. I sleep for almost a whole day. There’s some gurgling here and there but nothing compared to what I just went through. I’ve gone almost 9 hours without opening one end or the other, I think I’m good. 

I tried eating and drinking a little here and there and it’s stayed down for the most part. I think I’m good! 

Almost 24 hours after this whole thing started, I get another gurgle. “Oh GOD, no please - no more” I think to myself. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t possible have anything left to send up and out. I feel everything churning again and I know what’s going to happen. Sure enough, I run back to the toilet and I projectile vomit, spraying the toilet. This time is different though, I feel better after this. I think I’m finally done which is great because the whole family is coming home tonight. 

[anon383837383]

Your horrible, awful, not so good, very bad day

You wake up in the morning and you feel a slow churn in your stomach, but you ignore it. You get up and get ready for the day and eat your breakfast. You make some eggs, some bacon, some toast, and some fruit. You eat it all. That churning picks up a bit more but you still aren’t worried. 

Lunch time rolls around and you’re starting to feel the churning more. You’re sluggish and a little clammy but still, you aren’t overly worried yet. You enjoy some oysters and scallops for lunch. You eat every last bite. You debate ordering some more but you don’t. Your stomach is full and taught now. The churning is really picking up. “Nmmph” you say and you feel a churn. 

A couple hours go by and now you’re really not feeling well. Your stomach is spinning and you can feel the pressure rising inside. “Ugh oh man I don’t feel good” you say to yourself. Your stomach starts to churn even faster. You decide to get up and go to the bathroom but the second you decide, it’s like a bomb dropped. You sprint like a madman to the bathroom but you’re out shopping. You have to find one and fast. You see a worker and stop him in his tracks - “Bathroom, where’s the bathroom?!” He points you over to where it is and you take off like a bat out of hell. You close the door and have fierce, hot diarrhea. Your stomach is churning and screaming. You’re covered in sweat. You’re nauseous. “Oh man I need to go home” but you can’t - not until you’re finished. Finally you’re done and you can drive home. You’re about half way home when the churning comes back. “Oh no, no no no” you say in a panic. You can’t let this happen in your car. Your stomach is churning and roaring and you don’t know if you’re going to poop and puke. 

You finally make it home and you sprint to the bathroom and shut the door. You don’t know which way to face. You sit on the toilet where more intense diarrhea fires out of you. But the nausea. The nausea is so intense you know it’s going to be a loosing battle. You grab the bathroom trash can and hold it close. You hover your head over and start to burp. Now you start to spit. You can feel it coming. All the eggs and bacon and fruit and seafood are working their way up and out. Another burp. More spit. “Mmph uh - uh oh I thi-“ your sentence is cut off by projectile vomit into the bucket. The sound alone is enough to make you sick again. “Oh - oh my god” you say through your panting. You’re done for now. You go to the couch where you feel your stomach moving and jerking all around. You know more is coming. You feel it moving. This isn’t food poisoning. You’re sick. You’ve knowing it from the minute you woke up this morning but you didn’t listen. Instead you filled your gut with ammo and now you’re paying the price. 

About an hour after the first episode you feel round 2 coming on. Your stomach feels like a boiling pot of water. You head to the bathroom and kneel in front of the toilet. Your stomach is so swollen and distended it’s hitting the bottom of the bowl. “Oh God not again” you say before the storm hits. You’re begging, pleading, praying it’s not both ends again but you know it is. The vomit comes first. It’s intense. Chunks of food come flying out your mouth and nose. You’re spraying the toilet and the walls. Mid-vomit you feel something hot come out. Diarrhea is pouring out of you onto the walls and floor. “Make it sto-“ vomit finishes your sentence. You’d think after such violent episodes, you’d feel better getting it out of your system but you don’t. You feel worse. It’s like your stomach is enjoying this. You clean up your mess and take some meds for the diarrhea. You head to bed. 

You sleep for a few hours but it’s 3am and your stomach is ready for more. You wake up and you have no time to prepare. “Oh I think there’s more” you say to yourself. You grab the bucket you left by your bedside and hold it close. Almost immediately you start vomiting. You nearly fill the bucket when you decide you should get to the bathroom. Your stomach is making the worst sounds you’ve ever heard. “God please not again” you say as you rest your head on the toilet. Your prayer goes unanswered as more and more vomit falls out of you. Thank God the anti-diarrhea meds have kicked in because there is no way you could handle both ends right now. You go back to bed. You’re lying in bed and you’re holding your stomach, praying that was the last of it. You sleep until morning. 

When the morning comes you open your eyes and you immediately shut them. How is it still gurgling. Where is it all coming from? You roll over but that only makes it more angry. It doesn’t take long before you’re back at the throne. The sheer amount of vomit that you’re producing is honestly impressive. All you want is to sleep and eat but you can’t do either right now. Your day is filled sprinting back and forth to the bathroom. At one point, you know you won’t make it to the toilet so you grab a bowl from the kitchen and fill it pretty quickly. This 48-hour bug is going to fill every last second of those 48 hours and you can’t wait for it to be done. 

This is the last day (hopefully) and you’re exhausted. Your stomach is livid. It’s bubbling and churning and all you can do is moan and erupt without much warning. It’s 4am and you wake up to your stomach making an awful, ominous sound. It sounds like it’s laughing at you. You feel the pressure inside you growing and your stomach bubbling harder and harder. Burps start attacking you and the nausea grips you like a vice. The diarrhea that you thought you got rid of yesterday has come back with a vengeance. Your stomach is so swollen. You shuffle to the bathroom in the dark and sit on the toilet. You’re filling the toilet before you can even flush it. You need to throw up. You don’t want to but you don’t have a choice. Before you can even get the bucket, it happens. Harshly and violently you start vomiting onto the floor. Chunks are coming out your mouth and nose. Bursts of diarrhea fire out in between. It’s awful. The bathroom is totally destroyed. You sit there and your stomach is finally quiet. It’s finally over. 

[turningtummyrubs]

new sickfic RP generator!

Chat now with Sickfic · created by @AdamLiquor

Sickfic: Insert prompt below:

If you saw my last post, you know I created an AI sickfic RP generator using Character.AI. That one was restricted to a clinic setting. This new one I've made is more liberal. (I also think the quality of the writing is much better.)

You can write out your prompt as a sentence, but the AI will likely respond better to this format — Name: (insert name). Personality: (insert personality traits). Receptivity to help: (AKA how they'll react to you). Setting: (anything from bedroom to Antarctica). Source of pain: (indigestion, food poisoning, etc.). You can forgo any of these categories if you'd like.

Example convo (sorry for the blurriness):

Fun things to remember!

Swipe on the AI's generated response and it'll give you more potential replies!

The more you vote (stars at the bottom), the higher quality it'll grow to be!

If you insert a fictional character for the name, the AI should mimic the character (to an extent)!

Have fun!

[anon383837383]

tummy trouble

The pressure was building inside him. The bubbles, the gurgles, the churning, all running a free for all inside him. He was sweaty and shaky. His head was pouring sweat and his eyes were red. The pressure continued to rise, as did the bile, and before he knew it he was clinging onto the toilet. He held it tight and hovered his head above it. He opened his mouth and unleashed a thick, hot, orange stream out his mouth and nose. He tried to take a deep breath but it was met with another stream. His stomach continued to grow and the pressure was intense. He sat there for a minute but yet again, he was met with nausea. He could feel his stomach lurch. The bile climbed up his stomach, into his throat, and before he knew it he was heaving once again. He would spend his day bowing his head and pouring out his stomach into the cool porcelain bowl. Every few hours his stomach would begin to rumble and shake. He would run to the bathroom praying he made it in time. He would wrap his legs around the toilet and begin burping and belching. A rush of warm, thick half digested food would come rushing up his throat. He would bow his head and hurl the contents into the bowl. As soon as he finished his stomach would gear up for more. It was a never ending cycle of purging and hurling. The room began spinning, almost as fast as his stomach. He took a deep breath and prepared for another onslaught. His mouth opened, his eyes closed tight, slow deep breaths leading to deep guttural moans. A new river of stomach stew poured out of him and into the toilet. Just as he was about to leave the bathroom he felt an intense gurgle in his belly. He turned back to the toilet but didn’t know which way to face. His lower bowels needed to be empty but he felt like he needed to vomit once more. He grabbed the bathroom trash and sat on the toilet. Gurgles and bubbles joined in his misery. Diarrhea poured out of him just as vomit filled the trashcan. This would be the last time he ate deli meat from a gas station.

[anon383837383]

Drew’s perfect day

Drew’s week off was about to begin and he planned on spending it all to himself.  Drew was a tall fellow. He had short brown hair and a full thick beard with a tattoo sleeve. The day started with a quick breakfast at his favorite diner, scrambled eggs with hot sauce, followed by a trip to the gym, some shopping, and lunch at his favorite seafood place. Lunch time rolled around and Drew couldn’t be more excited for his shrimp and scallop tower. A tower of seafood came out covered in a rich, creamy, spicy sauce. Drew devoured most of it and went about his day. Close to dinner time Drew noticed a grumble in his stomach. “Maybe I’m hungry” he thought to himself. He saw a cafe near by and stopped in for some coffee and a snack. He was walking home when he felt a pain in his stomach “ugh” he said while placing one hand over his bubbling stomach. He was walking home when he felt his stomach kick into overdrive. The nausea came on strong and he started sweating. He went from walking to sprinting back home. Every footstep jiggled his stomach more and more and threatened to end his perfect day. When he got home he ran to the bathroom and knelt on the ground. He was sitting so close to the toilet that his swollen stomach was pushing onto it. He tilted his head back and pressed his lips tight to try and hold back the flood gates. Rubbing his stomach and moaning, Drew was doing everything possible to fight back the nausea but his efforts were futile. His stomach lurched and bile started rising up his throat. He let out a deep, guttural moan and a thick orange liquid poured out of his mouth and nose. A burp and belch started the nausea all over again. Drew sat there, kneeling in front of the toilet, beyond nauseated. “Ugh, no this can’t be happening! Today was supposed to be a good day!” He said while holding his stomach. He could feel the bubbling and gurgling and he knew he was going to be sick again. “Ugh here it com-“

His sentence punctuated by another burning stream of half digested shrimp and scallops. When he was done he managed to clean himself up and get into bed. When a few hours passed and Drew hadn’t gotten sick again, he thought he was in the clear. At 2am he woke up with the familiar feeling of nausea. It felt like all the food he ate today was fighting its way out. Drew sat up in bed rubbing his stomach when a shot of vomit flew out of him and went all over the comforter. “Ugh no!” Drew said before another stream flew out of him. He knew he wasn’t done so he ran to the bathroom where he gripped onto the toilet. Drew was panting and pouring sweat. His stomach was churning like a cement truck and at this point, he prayed the next round would be the end. He hovered over the toilet and opened his mouth. He let out a moan and a belch but nothing else left. His eyes were red and his beard had chunks of vomit in it. He felt a twinge in his stomach and an uproar of vomit flew out of him and went all over the toilet and floor. While he was done vomiting, his stomach continued to churn and churn. After cleaning up the bed and bathroom, Drew felt another round coming on. He raced to the bathroom where he began sobbing. Through the sobs he forced out half digested shrimp, black coffee, scrambled eggs, and scallops. Looking at the food that once brought him such joy staring back at him started another cycle in his stomach. “How is there more?!” Drew opened his mouth and poured out an orange, thick, spicy spew that fell out of his mouth chunk by chunk. Drew got back into bed where he was finally able to sleep. When he woke up he managed to have some toast and some water and keep it down. It wasn’t until he was sitting on the couch watching TV when his stomach started to act up again. “Oh come on!” Drew protested. Knowing he didn’t have the energy to run to the bathroom, he grabbed a trashcan and held it tight. Again and again he threw up and spat out all of the putrid food. It would be a day of nausea and vomiting and a vow to never eat seafood again. 

[anon383837383]

Vacation Bugs

Dom loved traveling more than anything. Once a year, he dedicated a week of traveling by himself to go and explore new places. When he got off the plane, Dom felt a churning in his stomach. He dismissed it as Jet lag and went on with his trip. On his ride to the hostel, his stomach began bubbling and gurgling. Again, he dismissed it as jet lag and prayed it was nothing more. When he got to the hostel, he noticed some other men who were on his flight were staying at the same place. He made his way to his room when his stomach started churning vigorously. His roommate was sitting on his bed with his head between his legs. He was moaning and had a hand over his stomach. “Oh man I don’t feel good” the roommate said. “Oh I think I’m gonna b-“ his sentence was cut short by a mad dash to the restroom. He could see the man trying to take a deep breath. He gripped onto the toilet and his stomach as if that would do anything. Dom heard his roommate unleash a massive spew of vomit. It sounded never ending. Tears were subdued with battles of vomit. Dom could feel his stomach start to churn more. He began to breathe deeper and his mouth was salivating more and more. He was definitely going to be sick and it was going to happen any minute. He made his way to the communal bathroom where more men from his flight were all barreling in. Everyone began vomiting profusely, some were having explosive diarrhea, and a lucky few were having both at the same time. Dom quickly ran into a stall and knelt before it. He hovered and opened his mouth but nothing came up. “Ugh come on” Dom said defeated. His stomach was thumping and throbbing. It felt like a cement truck was going at full speed inside him. A burp unleashed an onslaught of vomit into the toilet and onto the floor. “Oh no not both, please” one man cried as he began erupting from both ends. “I need a stall please” men outside the bathroom were screaming. Dom was still in the bathroom dealing with his own insides when he heard his roommate come into the bathroom. He was holding onto a bucket and had diarrhea running down his legs. His roommate was able to quickly take the last remaining stall and use his bucket to catch his upward demise.

“It appears the men have contracted the filler virus from the flight” hostel management said. “Better place them in quarantine”. The men soon learned that the filler virus is a rare form of the stomach bug that refills stomach contents instead of dehydrating the person. It creates a constant source of material for the body to expel over the course of the week. The only thing to do was let it run its course. Each of the 7 men were given their own room with a bathroom. They would be spending the next 7 days expelling an obscene amount from their bodies. Sleep was elusive. The constant nausea and churning in Dom’s stomach made it impossible to rest. In the rare moments where he was able to get some sleep, he was interrupted by the sounds of the other men who were screaming or sobbing. The first night was filled with unexpected episodes of liquid pouring out of one end or the other. Dom was lying in bed desperately trying to get some sleep when suddenly his stomach lurched. He felt the boiling begin in his gut and crawl its way up and out. Without warning he began spewing vomit like a geyser. *HUGGGGHHLARRRRRGH* Vomit covered the floor and begging. Dom ran to the bathroom where he sat down holding his swollen gut. He was moaning and rubbing his stomach as if that would make a difference. He felt something in his stomach, as if it was filling up again. Like clockwork, the bile filled his throat and made its escape.

On the second night, Dom was sitting on the edge of the bed. His stomach was swollen and distended and he could physically feel it churning. It was lurching and sloshing and it was only a matter of time before he was sick again. “Oh God, how is there more” he pleaded to an empty room. He waddled his way to the bathroom where he assumed the position. He gripped onto the toilet and was nearly sent back by the sheer force of the vomit that escaped him. In the midst of the expulsion - without warning, a slew of diarrhea left and splattered the floor and walls. He was heaving and flowing with no end in sight. The only thing that scared him more than exploding from both ends, was how quickly the nausea returned.

By the fifth day Dom was still nauseated and any attempt to eat was met with hours in the bathroom heaving and belching. He could hear his fellow passengers loosing their battles with food too. One passenger forced himself to eat and drink a meal. He was met with nonstop vomiting and diarrhea for the next two days. The rest of the men dealt with the episodes as they came. Time of day didn’t matter, it could be 3am and they would be feverishly running to the toilet.

The last day of the filler virus was supposedly the worst (according to the internet). On the last day Dom awoke in the middle of the night. He ran to the bathroom where he felt as though the nausea was about to burst through the damn any second now. He felt a twinge in his stomach and looked down and saw his stomach inflating and distending. He began to man and scream, as did another passenger. His stomach sounded like a pot of boiling water. He leaned over the toilet and let out a massive belch which was accompanied with a slew of vomit. Other men could be heard unleashing their own torrents. Dom was sobbing when diarrhea joined the party. He was in the middle of vomiting and didn’t know what to do. He quickly turned himself around and began upchucking into the tub. This cycle of dual end explosions would be the theme of today but when Dom woke up in the morning, he would be a free man.

[anon383837383]

The Storm

The storm outside raged. It was one of those movie storms where it just seemed endless. The rain was pouring, the wind was shaking the house, and Daniel had the house to himself. Daniel lived in a beautiful home that was secluded - no neighbors to bother him. Daniel woke up one morning with a hard feeling in his gut. He was nauseous and his stomach sounded like a trash compactor. He could feel the pressure increasing and the swelling filling up his gut. He tried to eat something light but that only made matters worse. By early afternoon he was sweating and nauseous. He had some horrific diarrhea which only made things worse. The power was flickering as the storm raged on both outside and in his stomach. He grabbed a bucket and kept it next to him and prayed he wouldn’t need to use it. He was moaning at this point and rubbing his stomach. He prayed that this would just pass and not the 48 hour flu that had made its way around. A burp (or what he thought was just a burp) sent forth a stream of vomit in his mouth. He quickly sat up on the couch and grabbed the bucket. Moans and sounds were interrupted by gurgles. The bucket was almost instantly filled and Daniel knew this was just the beginning. He begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom where he assumed the position. He had a firm grip on the toilet and a firm grip on his stomach. He could actually feel the flips and vomit rising and thrashing inside him. Ugh, he said, it’s coming! There’s more! He opened his mouth and erupted with a force so great, vomit came from both his mouth and nose. Hours passed and Daniel spent them running back and forth to the bathroom. He was miserable. The power was out and there was nothing to distract him from his exploding stomach. He managed to get some sleep but he was quickly reawakened by a living nightmare. He ran to the bathroom where an ominous feeling joined the party. He was going to throw up, he knew that much, but his lower intestines were scaring him. “I don’t know which way to face” he said threw the nausea. He sat on the toilet and kept his bucket nearby. It started with the puking. He was accustomed to this by now. He hovered over the bucket and burped and belched and let out some type of whatever was making him so sick. While his head was in the bucket, his new friend diarrhea decided to join the party. He was exploding from every part of his body and his body had no plans of slowing down. Daniel would spend the next day pouring liquids out of every end. It felt like eternity but eventually the storm outside and the storm inside Daniel would pass.

[anon383837383]

Greasy Geyser

Conor looked at the menu with excitement in his eyes. He was hungry and ready to indulge in a feast of epic proportions. He picked up his phone and dialed the number, placing an order for just about everything on the menu. As he waited for his food to arrive, Conor's stomach growled in anticipation. He couldn't wait to dive into the bags and bags of food that would soon be delivered to his door. He imagined himself feasting like a king, with no one to judge him. The delivery driver arrived, his arms laden with bags of food. Conor's eyes widened as he realized just how much he had ordered. It looked like he was feeding a small army, not just himself. He invited the delivery driver into the cabin, offering him a tip for his trouble. The driver declined politely, looking slightly disturbed by the sheer amount of food Conor had ordered. "Are you sure about this, man?" he asked, his eyes drifting to Conor's stomach. "Absolutely!" Conor replied with a grin. "I'm on vacation, and I intend to enjoy every delicious bite. No holding back!" The delivery driver shook his head in disbelief and left the cabin.

Conor wasted no time. He spread the food out on the table, his mouth watering at the sight of all the greasy goodness before him. Wings, burgers, seafood, meats, cheeses, and greasy fried treats covered the table. Conor dug in without reservation, devouring everything in sight as if it were his last meal. Minutes turned into hours, and still Conor kept eating. The food disappeared at an alarming rate, and the once-full table now stood empty, littered only with crumbs and discarded wrappers. Conor rubbed his stuffed stomach with satisfaction, feeling as though he had conquered a great challenge. "Oh ugh, oh man, that was amazing," he said, his voice a mix of admiration and discomfort. But as he sat there, his stomach struggling to digest the massive feast he had just consumed, Conor couldn't help but wonder what had come over him. He had meant to order just a few things, to savor the food over the course of his vacation. "Why did I let myself go like this?" Conor mumbled to himself, his hand still caressing his swollen belly. "I've eaten every last crumb, and now I feel like I'm about to explode."

His vacation was meant to be a time of relaxation, away from the pressures of daily life. But instead, he had found solace in the bottom of food containers and bottles of beer and soda. Conor's stomach churned and groaned, protesting the overload of food and drink. The pressure inside him was intense, but he felt strangely satisfied. A little indigestion was surely a small price to pay for the pleasure he had experienced. Hours passed, and Conor's moans and groans of delight turned into cries of pain. "Ughhhhhh, whyyyyyy?" he screamed, his voice echoing through the empty halls of the secluded cabin. Gripping the edges of his swollen stomach, Conor stumbled through the cabin, his breath ragged as he fought against the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. The rain poured outside, sealing Conor's fate within the cabin. He was trapped, forced to confront the consequences of his gluttony. His stomach twisted and turned, like a storm brewing inside him. "Oh, this can't be good," Conor muttered, his face pale with the realization that he was about to face a storm of a different kind. His body tensed with urgency as he made a mad dash towards the bathroom. With a final burst of strength, Conor made it to the toilet just in time, unleashing a stream of diarrhea. The relief was short-lived, as his stomach roiled and churned, demanding release from every possible exit. "Okay, okay, I can handle some diarrhea, but please, PLEASE, let it be from that end," Conor pleaded with his rebellious body. But his stomach had other plans. The room spun around him as Conor stumbled to the sink, his mouth wide open. A river of undigested greasy food erupted from within him, pouring out of every available orifice. Every breath he took reignited the storm, forcing Conor to hold onto the edges of the sink for dear life. He was trapped in a nightmare from which he couldn't wake. When the storm finally subsided, Conor collapsed onto the bathroom floor, his body trembling with exhaustion. The stench of his own choices filled the air, mingling with tears of regret. As Conor sat there in a daze, partly in disbelief at what had just happened and partly overwhelmed by the sickness that still lingered, a sinking feeling in his stomach told him that this was only the beginning. Weakly, Conor grasped the trash can from the kitchen and brought it to his side, preparing for the next wave of torment. But as he looked at the can, filled to the brim with the remnants of his gluttony, his stomach lurched with revolt. "Oh dear," Conor whispered, realizing he couldn't bear the sight and smell of his previous indulgence. He had no choice but to grab the nearest bucket and pray that it would be enough to contain the storm. Conor's afternoon was now a melange of intense rounds of nausea and vomiting. He clung to the bucket, his face pale and sweaty, as wave after wave of vomit assaulted him. "I can't believe... *urp* ugh, I can't believe I did this to myself," Conor lamented, his voice barely audible above the retching and wretching that consumed him. The nausea gripped him relentlessly, refusing to let go. Conor felt as though he were trapped in a vicious cycle, unable to find respite from the torment that his gluttony had unleashed. He tried to reason with his rebellious body, to coax it into calmness, but there was nothing left to throw up. "I don't want to," Conor whispered, his voice a mixture of desperation and defeat. Slowly, he opened the fridge and his eyes fell on a sliver of leftover tuna.

Tears streamed down his face as he realized what he had to do. With a heavy heart, Conor took a bite. The taste of the tuna was bitter on his tongue as he forced himself to eat more. He hoped that engorging himself one last time would trigger a cascade of vomit, leading to an end to his suffering. Hours passed, and Conor sat in the bathroom, his body hunched over the toilet. He prayed for the release that vomiting would bring, sobbing as his stomach screamed for mercy. Gurgles and bubbles rose up his throat, falling into the toilet like a twisted symphony of despair. Conor held onto his aching gut, his sobs drowned out by the torrents of vomit. But with each breath and each burp, Conor realized that the end was still far from sight. The storm within him seemed never-ending, and there was no escape from the relentless onslaught. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of suffering, Conor's body stopped its revolt. He sat on the bathroom floor, gasping for air, his stomach now aching from the violent upheavals it had endured. Slowly, Conor picked himself up and made his way back to the couch. He was dazed and exhausted, but a strange sense of satisfaction washed over him. This had been a vacation he would never forget. As he lay on the couch, Conor reflected on the choices he had made. He had indulged to the point of sickness, but perhaps he had learned an important lesson about limits and consequences

[anon383837383]

Stew Surprise

Leo and Tim sat at their desks. Their stomachs were swollen and the sloshing in their stomach was intense. The pressure was building and it was only a matter of time before this show got on the road. “How you doing man” Tim asked Leo, trying to hold back the nausea. “I - ugh - I don’t feel so good” Leo replied back. Leo was as green as grass. He had eaten way more of the Stew surprise than Tim did so it was no wonder he was feeling worse. “I just want to get this over with and get home to my bed” Tim said. The men were belching and breathing like they were in labor. Their heads were dripping sweat and they were clinging onto their buckets for dear life. “Maybe, maybe we can fight this off” Leo said with his last ounce of optimism. “Maybe I have the strength to keep it down”. “Oh - uh oh” Leo said. Before Tim could look up, he heard the most ungodly sound he has ever heard. Fountain poured out of Leo. He was burping and heaving. Every breath he took just started another onslaught. “Here we go” Tim said before joining Leo in misery. It didn’t take long before the two men filled up their trashcans. “I need to get home, this is far from over” Leo said with nausea coating every word. “Agreed” said Tim. The two men left work and made it home. Leo knew driving home wasn’t an option, he could barley keep his eyes open. He called a taxi and made his way to his secluded home.

The taxi driver was a big gruff man who did not speak English well. “You look hell” the driver said. “Ate some bad food, really don’t feel well” Leo managed to say. His stomach was churning and bubbling and he wasn’t going to be able to hold it together much longer. “Hey man, think you can pull over for a second. I really don’t feel well” Leo begged. “Sorry, on highway. No stop” the driver said flatly. “Fuck” Leo thought. He could feel the stew sloshing around and rising up his throat. Leo emptied his bag and prayed he could hold it together until he got home. A harsh breaking set things in motion. “Ugh - blaaasrrrggghhhhh” Leo quickly emptied his stomach and filled his bag. He threw up more food than he thought was in his stomach”. “HEY. YOU CLEAN THIS MESS. NO SICK IN MY CAR”. “I’m - ugh im sor-“ Leo was interrupted by another torrent. “I’m sorry. How much longer until we’re home?”. “here. Get out”. Leo grabbed his bag and threw it straight in the trash.

He was grateful he lived in a secluded area. Some peace and quiet was all that he needed to get better. Hours passed and Leo clung to the toilet, emptying his stomach and filling the toilet. “god how is there more?!” Leo begged his stomach to give him a break. Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. Tim was standing there with a bag. “Wow clearly you’re doing well”. “I feel like death, what do you want” Leo said. “Drink this. You’re going to hate your life for about an hour but then you’ll be fine. Don’t say I never helped you”. Tim handed Leo an elixir and left. “Flu finish” the bottle read. “Drink one bottle while experiencing symptoms”. “I’ll try anything at this point”. Leo drank the elixir and went to sleep. It wasn’t long before he was awakened with a horrific feeling. The nausea was suffocating but more ominously, his lower gut was sloshing. “Oh - oh no” Leo said in a panic. He ran to the bathroom and gripped onto the toilet. Regurgitated stew, old food, and spiced flew out of him. There was no taming it. All Leo could do was hold his mouth open and pray this would end soon. While he was kneeling to the porcelain throne, he felt a dribble down his leg. While he was heaving and vomiting, diarrhea was pouring out of him. He was exploding from every end and there was nothing he could do about it. His body commenced for round 2. Again he was pouring liquid from every orifice. “dear god” Leo said. When he was done he looked around the bathroom. It looked like a war zone. The worst was over, so he thought, but Leo was still nauseous. “What is happening to me?” Leo managed to clean himself (and the bathroom) up and grabbed his bucket. He made it to the couch when the nausea returned. Almost immediately he filled up the bucket. The silence of his home was filled with moans and whines. He looked at the elixir bottle one more time and read the fine print “will not work on food poisoning”. “Fucking hell” Leo said before gearing up for another round. It was a long night of agony but when he woke up, he was on the other side.

[anon383837383]

Marco’s Stomach Flu

Marco sat at his desk, his stomach swirling and churning around. He could feel the pressure building up, but prayed that it would pass. He burped and belched, but nothing seemed to help. He couldn’t focus on his work any longer. He unbuttoned his shirt and began rubbing his swollen gut. "Ugh, what the hell did I *burps* eat?" he said nauseatingly, his voice muffled by his hand. He was the last one in the office, thankfully, so nobody had to witness his misery. He got up to pack up his things when suddenly he got very dizzy. He stumbled back and sat down, grabbing the trashcan beside his desk just in time. The saliva was building, and the pressure in his gut was intense. He hovered over the trashcan and waited for the show to start. His stomach roared, and there was no stopping it now. He let out a massive belch and started gushing. "Ugh, oh God, what is happening?" he said in between heaves. When the first wave finished, Marco weakly grabbed his things and made his way to his car. He was nearly out of the building when his stomach started moaning and gurgling again.

"Ugh, not again, please," he pleaded with his stomach, who showed no mercy. Luckily, he was near the bathroom. He dashed inside and started round two. Vomit poured out of his mouth and nose, splattering against the toilet bowl. He gripped onto the sides of the toilet, his knuckles turning white, as his stomach betrayed him. It felt like an endless torrent, one wave crashing against another. It was a symphony of expulsion, and Marco was the unwilling conductor. On his way home, Marco felt an ominous feeling in his stomach. His lower intestine was moving and slushing. "Dear God, not both ends, please," he begged, his voice weak and tremulous. "What could have done this?" he thought. Then he realized—the flu. Marco was arrogant and thought he was invincible. Last night, while he was out with his friends, he wanted to prove this. His friends dared him to lick the doorknob of the public bathroom. He must have caught the stomach bug from that. "God damnit," he muttered. When he got home, he felt worse than before. He was sweaty, and his stomach was doing backflips. He had no idea what would happen next. He braced himself for impact. He ran into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, gripping his trusty bucket. "I'm never doing that again," he vowed.

Marco's stomach spun and spun, and he knew it was only a matter of time. He moaned and whined, trying to find any semblance of relief. He was nauseous, and his stomach was beyond swollen. He could feel the regurgitation rising. And before he knew it, he was exploding from every end. Diarrhea gushed out of him, splattering against the toilet water like a roaring waterfall. At the same time, vomit erupted from his mouth with the force of a powerful geyser, spraying the bathroom walls and floor. Every breath he took seemed to set off another wave, his body trapped in a relentless cycle of expulsion. As soon as one end finished, another end started, tormenting him without mercy. He needed this to end. "I know what I have to do," Marco said, his voice resolute. He cleaned himself up as best he could and reached for his phone. He ordered the elixir, a special drink people with the flu could order to help speed things along. One swig, and a massive eruption later, and he would be through this mess. Marco held the bottle in his trembling hand, his fingers coated with vomit and sweat. "One big one is better than being up all night long," he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and took a big gulp, swallowing the elixir down. Then, he waited. His stomach churned and gurgled within fifteen minutes. "Oh no, here we go," he muttered, his eyes widening in anticipation.

He could feel every end of his body contracting, preparing for the second act of this grotesque play. This was going to be bad. His breathing became shallow and punctuated, his body tensing up. His stomach visibly shook and contracted, the torment building up. Without warning, a massive stream of vomit burst forth from Marco's mouth, accompanied by an earsplitting scream. He was screaming, but all that left his mouth was massive amounts of vomit. He almost immediately filled the bucket in his trembling hand, tears streaming down his face. The bucket fell, but the vomit didn't stop. Streams painted the floor and soaked Marco's lap. Heave after heave, he practically flooded the bathroom with his throw-up. When he finally finished, he slumped on the bathroom floor, dazed and exhausted. Everything was out of him, and the worst was over. He vowed to himself, never again would he do something so stupid

[anon383837383]

Elixir Trouble

It had been hours since Jason woke up and this feeling in his stomach just wouldn’t quit. He wasn’t sure if it was the stomach flu or food poisoning but he was overcome with nausea and had spent the better part of the morning hovering over a bucket thinking he was going to explode at any minute. It was nearly bedtime and the nausea only grew. Desperate for relief, Jason visited the elixir shop. He asked the shopkeeper for some nausea relief. The shopkeeper gave him a bottle and a sheet of paper. On the paper was a warning that read “only drink when alone. The effects may hit at any time and once they start, they can not be stopped”. Jason wearily paid the man and returned home. His stomach was spinning like a carousel and he just needed it to stop. He chugged the bottle and went to the couch. As he laid on the couch he held his stomach which was moving like it was fighting an MMA fight. He burped and groaned and prayed for some relief. He could feel a twinge in his stomach, a rise up his esophagus. Relief was near. He held his stomach and his mouth and nearly made it to the bathroom. The toilet was too far but he knelt in front of the tub and let loose an unholy torrent of vomit. He was breathing like he was in labor. He heaved and heaved and the stream could not be stopped. When the first round finished, he sat on the floor holding his stomach. This was definitely the stomach bug and he was in it for the long haul. His gut began to churn and without warning, diarrhea began to emerge. He quickly ran to the toilet and released fire from below. He could feel boiling in his stomach again as the second round of vomit made its way to his mouth. He leaned over to the tub and began erupting from both ends. When he finished, he reached for the bottle where he read a warning he wished he saw earlier “warning - will induce the stomach flu to alleviate nausea. Symptoms may include projectile vomiting and diarrhea. Symptoms may occur simultaneously”. Jesus, if I had read that earlier, I wouldn’t have - his sentence was interrupted by another dual stream. There was no stopping it now. Jason had to endure the night and there was nothing to but brace for impact.

Richard, Jason’s roomate had just gotten home. He saw a glass of something on the counter and chugged it down. “Damn, I kind of want more”. He saw the bottle of the elixir on the table and poured himself a glass without reading the bottle. He overheard Jason in the bathroom and decided it was best to leave him be. Unknown to him, Richard would soon endure the same fate. Richard went to bed while Jason spent the night recovering. Richard woke up with a twisted nauseating feeling in his stomach. “Ugh I don’t feel so good. What did I eat”. He laid there and held his stomach. It was swollen and the pressure was immense. He tried to hold back the nausea but he could hold it no longer. “I think I’m gonna be sick” Richard said as he ran to the bathroom. He gripped onto the toilet and began erupting. He coughed and coughed and burped and belched and everything he had eaten that day was returning. His stomach was screaming and it was not slowing down. Without warning, a volcanic eruption of diarrhea appeared just as another stream of vomit escaped. He was exploding from every orifice and there was no slowing it down. Jason overheard the events in the bathroom and went to check on Richard. “Dude are you okay?” Jason asked? The mere sight of Richard’s ordeal was making him nauseous. “I - I have no idea. I woke up and this all started. All I had was a drink of that juice that was on the counter. I don’t know what could have done it” Jason looked at him with such sorrow. “Richard PLEASE tell me you didn’t drink out of the purple cup”. “Yeah? Why?” said Richard. “I woke up and I was feeling sick this morning so I went to the elixir shop and bought something for the nausea. The guy sold me synthetic stomach flu. I’ve been a mess all night”. “I accidentally gave myself the stomach bug - his sentence was cut short by another tidal wave of vomit”. The sight of watching Richard’s demise was enough to send Jason over the edge. He ran to the tub and started vomiting all over again. The two men would spend the night exposing every ounce of their insides.