Back at it again, puking my little guts out after drinking three bottles of sparkling water >< I had to run from my bed to my container cuz I wasn't expecting it to happen so fast 😭 It was actually kinda hard to get it all out, so I had to drink another bottle to get everything back up. Just listen to me whimper and retch..
Who wants some French puke? I always loved French guys! Look how much came out of that cutie! Wonder what it is. Good closeup of the vomit from the camera guy.
Contents & Reason: Shots of some alcohol, causing overdose of alcohol consumption. Contents seem to contain other things from his stomach.
for your consideration: two people getting really sick at the same time from eating far too much of the same bad food. one person has a weaker stomach and starts really feeling the effects first, but their vomiting very quickly sets the other off and once they start there's no stopping them
(Hayden he/him, Cade he/him)
They hadn't planned on seeing Cade's parents that night. Hayden and Cade went for Chinese food at a buffet that afternoon, and soon after got a call. "My parents are in town!" Cade leaned into Hayden's room. "Want to go meet them? They're gonna be at the steakhouse. You should come with!"
"Are you sure you want to come with, Hayden? You don't look so good." Cade said when they got out of the car. "And you can meet my parents later. I don't want you to overdo it." Cade said sympathetically as he absently rubbed his swollen gut.
"I—I'll be fine. I just, uh…" He takes a deep breath and tries to relax, but the tension is too much to bear. "I ate too much. Had way too many noodles."
Despite the overstimulation of having already been in a restaurant, and his disinterest in steak after stuffing on noodles and fried rice, Hayden felt excited that Cade wanted to take this next step, and hoped the parents would like him. He didn't want to waste this chance, no matter how sick he felt.
Once they got there, he realized it was a mistake. Hayden's temples throbbed, the inside of his mouth tasting vaguely of raw onions. The restaurant's bright, white lights were a source of torture rather than comfort, their brightness highlighting his clammy forehead. The sounds of the bustle around him were loud enough to cause headaches, which seems like a cruel twist of fate considering that he's suffering the early pangs of a salt-induced migraine. A sharp pain lanced through his torso, and Hayden swallows hard. He carefully loosened his belt under the table. His stomach roils, and he's sure a violent attack of indigestion is only moments from kicking in.
"You good?" Cade asked him suddenly. Hayden almost jumped. "Um - yeah. I'm good, just…I think I ate too much." Cade gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I've got really bad bubble guts right now. I really hope nothing at that buffet was spoiled." He sipped on his Sprite and then brightened up, nodding his head at a middle-aged couple that had just entered. "There, that's them. That's my mom and dad." With that Cade stood up to go and greet them, leaving Hayden all by himself at the table.
As Cade went to greet his parents, Hayden gripped the table and forced his eyes shut. The lights and commotion aren't doing him any favors. He almost felt seasick. He took a deep breath, then released it slowly, but he's barely finished exhaling before he feels a familiar rumble begin low in his abdomen. Gas and the remains of a meal are threatening to be regurgitated. He swallowed hard.
For a little while, Hayden kept control of his stomach. He sipped his iced soda, hoping the bubbles would settle his stomach. And for a bit it seemed to help. He introduced himself to Cade's parents and they began small talk. Then Cade's dad ordered appetizers. "Make that double, would you please? Looks like I'm feeding a crowd today." his father said good-naturedly. And before either Cade or Hayden could protest, the waiter left. And Cade's parents began making small talk.
Hayden's brow was really beginning to glisten with sweat. Every time he turned to face someone new in this little circle, the lights flashed and his stomach rumbled heavily, slow and sluggish and sickening. He can't imagine eating anything; the idea of chewing or swallowing makes him dizzy.
Cade was also having to gulp over and over to keep his stomach in its place. When the appetizers arrived and his parents dug in, he snacked a bit on the wings and dip that had been left on the table, nibbling out of habit. The strong, greasy smell and spicy taste made his guts churn. And when he looked to Hayden, he realized with horror that he didn't look much better off. Maybe something at the buffet really was spoiled.
Hayden can't imagine holding back any longer. His head jerks from side to side, heaving breathlessly, and he suddenly feels bile rising in his mouth. He grips the edge of the table, a hand ready for his forehead as his guts churn and gurgle. His swallows mean nothing against the force of his sick stomach, and he felt chunks at the back of his throat.
"You know, mom and dad, Hayden's pretty tired. I think we might - urrp!" a sudden burp interrupted Cade. He blushed a little, but mostly his cheeks were green. "'scuse me. I think we might head out early."
Hayden's mouth twisted in misery. "P—please… have to… go…" he whined out, desperate. What seems like a long moment of agonizing silence passed as Hayden tried to keep his stomach down, but he was fighting a losing battle. Sweat trickled down his neck, his breath coming harsh in his throat. He leaned over the table, gagging, and that's all it took. The food from earlier erupted, exploding past Hayden's lips and splattering everything around him. He sagged forward and moans miserably. "Ohhh… I—I'm so sorry…"
When Hayden vomited, it was like a button was pressed on Cade's gag reflex. He didn't even feel himself heaving before a sudden heavy wave of chunky noodle barf spewed from his lips and splattered all over the appetizer. He hiccupped and moaned, mortified. "Ohhh m-my god, I'm so s- sghhhuruuughhhl!!" his belly clenched and Cade threw up again. The hot slurry burned all the way up and splashed on his jeans.
"Oh no… you too…" Hayden choked back bile, looking at Cade in horror. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, passing one to Cade. But the second he tried to speak, he heaved again. An ungodly amount of partially-digested ramen noodles burst out of his mouth, staining his shirt and the tablecloth. He curled into himself, panting with exhaustion and fighting to keep the remnants of his meal down. His stomach continued to roil, but it seems he's emptied as much as he's able.
Cade's parents at least didn't react in disgust. They seemed worried, and jumped into action. They pushed the almost-empty bowl of dip under Hayden's mouth as his tongue shot out and he began again to vomit. Cade leaned forward and desperately covered his mouth with his hands. But it was to no avail, and barf dripped from his fingers. A forceful gush escaped then. He groaned and gave in to the sickness clutching his belly.
Hayden retches violently, trying to expel the spoiled food that remained. It's as if his stomach were a bottomless pit, full of the slimiest rank slurry imaginable. He just wants it to be over. He dry-heaves, nothing coming up, but his stomach won't let him find comfort in the calm. It spasms and he can feel fresh bile rising up his throat. He leaned over the table and heaved, quickly getting dizzy.
Cade regretted overeating at the buffet. He burped up a violent surge of orange and noodles that splashed, mostly getting into the bowl. He clutched his belly with a low moan before spewing again. He was grateful they had chosen a table in the back; nobody but them noticed the mess yet. Hayden had the worst of it. He had eaten more of that slightly-suspicious shrimp stir fry than Cade had. Every exhale was a violent gush of vomit, and his face was sweaty and red. Cade's father gingerly patted his back.
Hayden, for his part, was beginning to feel lightheaded. His tummy went quiet for now, but that seemed to be the calm before the storm. He groaned miserably and clutched his sides, every twitch in his guts generating an involuntary grimace. He felt more exhausted than he could remember, and every movement is like pulling teeth. His tongue tasted foul and every breath he takes seems to make things worse. Cade's mother lays a hand on his shoulder and mouths, "You'll be alright."
It took a long while before they were alright, however. After a few minutes both boys could control their nausea long enough to make it to the bathroom, but once they got there the heaving just started again. Their stomachs felt agonizingly gross, heavy and overfull and sick. The sound of their retching reverberated through the small bathroom. After a moment, Cade called over in a raspy voice "H-Hayden….you okay?"
Hayden didn't answer, too busy with the business of being sick to reply. He hunched over the toilet in the fetal position, gagging and retching violently while it felt like his insides writhed and squirmed. Cade's voice barely registered to him. But eventually, he forces back the bile, breathing through his mouth and gasping for air as he got his breath. Eventually, he croaked "Yeah… yeah. Just… gimme a minute."
Just then Cade let out a meaty belch that turned into vomit on the tail end. He leaned over the toilet and let it out. Another retch took hold, and he splattered the bowl with brown and orange chunks. "Ohhhgg….god, thats bad."
Hayden shuddered, his stomach roiling again. "Ugh, god…" He puts his hand on his head and, with the slightest movement, let out another gush of bile. He leaned over again, his eyes watering as he continues to expel what little food he consumed at the buffet. His head pounded and he felt chills. After a moment, he sighed and pressed his cheek against the wall. "This is awful… I feel so gross."
"S-same….god, that really must have been spoiled food." Cade spat into the toilet and sighed. "I haven't felt this bad in a long time." he tenderly rubbed his bloated stomach, feeling it all moving around inside. Every little twist and turn of his guts brings him a fresh jolt of nausea. Now that the initial vomiting has slowed, he's left with a dull, pounding headache. He flushed and leaned against the wall, trying to rest. His guts kept spasming a little bit every so often, but he wasn't vomiting anymore.
Hayden groaned lightly and clutches his throbbing head. The nausea has calmed down for the most part, but he can feel the food sloshing around inside him. And the chillls kept getting worse. He grimaced and looked at the stall his boyfriend was in, suddenly feeling worried. "Cade… do you feel feverish at all? I—I'm feeling a little hot, but… maybe I'm just imagining things."
"Lemme check." Cade didn't feel too feverish, just nauseous. He reached his hand under the stall to Hayden. "I don't. Do -- urrrp! - do you? Let me feel your arm." When he felt Hayden, his boyfriend's skin was very hot and slightly red. "Ohh boy. Yeah, I think you might have a fever, babe."
Hayden nodded, his eyes widening with concern. "You don't feel too hot, right? I don't know how I'd handle it if we were both sick." He rests his hands on Cade's arm. It felt cool compared to his. His stomach began to churn again, but he fought down the rising nausea. "God, I still feel gross. I—my head… still hurts."
"I sh-should ask my dad to bring us water." Cade said, swallowing hard. His stomach was very upset again and he was worried he would soon vomit. But it happened sooner than he expected, and he spewed slushy orange and white down the front of his jacket. "Ohhhgg…oh shit, god. Damn i-- urrghhkkk!" he leaned over the toilet before he vomited again. "It hur-hrhrrggglllhg! It hurts…." Cade moaned between retches.
Hayden looked away when Cade began to vomit and made a grumbling sound of distaste. When he heard Cade's stomach rumbling again, he knows what's coming. He covered his mouth and turns his head, listening to the revolting squelching and splattering in Cade's throat. He tried not to be repulsed, but it was hard when the sounds were so loud. It's a relief when Cade finally let the last of his dinner go, though the smell made Hayden feel like he might puke again himself. "Ohh my god…" he said hollowly.
Hayden's belly lurched violently and he gasped. With a sudden rush, he expeled the rest of his dinner, most of it splashing down into the bowl but some bits and bile reaching the floor. He groaned and gripped the toilet to keep from wobbling, letting the contents churn and splurt out for a few seconds before he's finally spent. He was left dry-heaving into the bowl for a long moment. "Hnngg…. mmphhh… gahh…"
Cade spat, his stomach feeling much better now that it was empty. He flushed again and knocked on Hayden's door. "How're you doing in there?" he asked gently. In the end, Hayden needed help getting home. He was ill over the whole weekend, and terribly embarrassed about vomiting in front of the people who could become his in-laws. But Cade's parents were very understanding, and even sent them a card hoping Hayden felt better soon.
Cute girlfriend vomiting. After the first bout you press her against the wall and kiss her, tasting the vomit on her tongue. She gags into your mouth and moans, wanting more. You get her off with your fingers while she pants queasily against your lips until her climax. The intensity makes her retch and you cup her cheek as she coughs and vomits onto your chest. You clean up in the shower together. I still feel sick, she moans, and starts kissing you again. That’s okay, you murmur between kisses. Just get it all up. I’ll help you feel better.
A sexy ass scenario I just thought about is cumming so hard that I vomit.
Seriously. I imagine sitting on his lap as he plays with my clit from behind me, and rubbing my tits with his other hand. Maybe after he’s poured a few drinks of straight liquor down my throat and we’re both just tipsy enough. I’m leaned back onto his shoulder with one hand around a muscular arm as he whispers in my ear what a good girl I am. There’s already a massive puddle forming inside my panties. I can’t edge myself anymore and start cumming all over his hands, nipples hard under his fingers. He’s whispering for me to cum, to let it out.
He barely waits until I start to recover. He calls me his good girl. Then he uses the fact that I’m soaked wet and starts fingering my pussy as fast as he can. At this point I’m screaming, eyes rolled back, gasping moans escaping my mouth. Before I know it I’m squirting all over him. My vision goes, my ears ring and my heart is at a million. He knows what’s coming because it’s happened before. He pulls the trash can he’d set next to me and gently starts pulling my hair back. I’m taking deep breaths and preparing for the liquor to come gushing back. I’m sweating from the intensity and blood pressure drop. “Baby, I think I’m gonna be sick…”
He switches completely and becomes my caretaker. Telling me how good I did, how sexy I look when I’m orgasming. That I’m okay, to let it out. That he’s here. He’s under my oversized shirt with one hand firmly holding on to my tummy, the other holding my hair back. He’s still sitting behind me on the couch and I’m bent at the waist facing the trashcan. I can feel the burn of all the whiskey he fed me coming up to my throat and I get one more deep breath in before it all comes rushing back. I’m a loud puker and I feel his cock getting harder at every loud gag I let out. All the drinks come gushing out in steady streams and I can only hope to cough and gasp before the next one. Every time I heave I feel his veiny hands pressing on my tummy to help me vomit out the rest. His cock is rock hard under me because he knows he can make me cum so good that I throw up. My panties are soaking his boxers.
I finish up and he gently pulls me back to lean on his chest. He’s wiping my mouth and the sweat off my forehead. “You okay baby? You did so good” he’s whispering to me as my vision slowly comes back. He’s touching my stomach, now completely void of content. I lean forward again thinking I had one last heave left and he begins rubbing my back to soothe me. It only gets me more horny for him. “Ready for more baby?”
I pull my panties off to the side and reach for his cock under his boxers. “One more thing, doll”. He reaches for the bottle of Hennessy. I cock my head back and laugh.
I open my mouth and he pours a big shot. I swallow it back like water. “Good girl”, he moans as he begins to bounce me on him by the hips…
I want to be in the subway going home from somewhere with my bf and he knows I’m feeling a little queasy from earlier drinks and food so he’s got his big arms around me rubbing my back while I close my eyes and try not to spew everything. The subway section is empty and it’s just us. He reassures me I can vomit if I need to, we’re still a little ways and no one would see. He notices I’m starting to gag into my hands so he quickly pulls my hair back and unbuttons my cardigan. “You’re okay baby. You know your body.” He says peeling my cardigan back so I don’t get vomit on it. I start to want to apologize, but the shaking and bumping of the subway makes me feel too dizzy to speak. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. I’m here.” The next gag ends up turning into a violent retch, and my neck involuntarily cocks back before I feel a massive splash of beer, ice cream, fries and shots fill my cheeks. They puff up quicker than I can think and I can’t hold it, the stream is too strong. I get up from my sitting position, hand still over mouth, and he immediately follows suit, one hand on the ceiling rail, the other around me, hand on my chest to hold me steady. I stifle a cough and vomit leaks from my hand covering my mouth. I denied that I was nauseous and had to throw up until the very end. I know he enjoys it. He loves to see me shy, trying to hold back any appearances that I may not be feeling great. He loves to read me before I can read myself. A massive splatter puddle of light brown chunky vomit forms in front of my feet. The subway still aggressively rolling, hitting every bump it can. I try to breathe in and he holds me tighter. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.” I retch, louder this time, my puke-soaked hand now helplessly resting on my jeans. Another gush of warm vomit splashes on the floor, getting on my shoes and on the wall in front of me. I stop for a second and he’s massaging my tummy while I catch up on my breathing. I tell him I think I’m done, and he carries me in his arms to a further seat so the smell doesn’t aggravate my stomach more. Little do I know I’m probably gonna get off the subway and have to vomit again on the side of the stairs where people are watching, and he’s get secretly so horny to have all these people watch him hold my hair back and squeeze my tummy to get me to finish puking. Then we’d probably get to our apartment and I’d shower and start to feel better only to get in bed and feel my stomach churning again…
Just woke up from a dream where my bf and I were at this restaurant with massive portions and huge drinks and I had on this long knee length flowy skirt and heels and had soooo much to eat and was so drunk but someone me and the bf were talking to said something really gross on purpose and we all laughed and gagged but I was so tipsy i felt the watery food come up when I gagged so I closed my mouth with my hands and walked to the bathroom and my drunk ass bf found me a few mins later on my knees by the toilet, vomit all over the bowl and around it, he got on his knees too and his strong arms lifted me up so I could finish vomiting and I was like “hold on we should record this for my tumblr” (🤣🤣🤣) and at this point in the dream I was so horny and he was fingering my throat with one hand and the other was wandering from squeezing my tummy to the inside of my skirt.. I remember specifically him picking me up and leaning me down onto the toilet so I could vomit and my skirt looking so beautiful when I’d lift one leg up lmfaooo. And it was soooo much and he said he was getting hard just watching me in that skirt and just kept touching my throat as insane amounts of food and drink gushed out… damn I woke up wet
this is the anon who had the upset, rumbly belly who held it in at work... oh my god, my tummy was SO ill that night. i had the most awful tummy upset.
only a few minutes after i sent the ask, i had some chills and felt super sweaty and clammy, and felt the butterflies in my tummy crawl up my throat. i RAN to the toilet but only kind of made it, and projectile vommed a huge brown torrent into the bowl/onto the floor/on myself. wave after wave just kept coming up, everything i'd eaten recently just gushed out of me so violently in waves. the sound of my vomit splattering against the bowl would set me off again and again. i could barely breathe and my stomach contracted and sloshed around so badly. at one point i just went in the shower and threw up all over myself there because i already felt so disgusting. i felt SO sick in my tummy.
i think i probably spent about an hour in the bathroom, and then felt better enough to get cleaned up and go to bed. i slept probably for an hour or so until i woke up and had to be violently sick into a bucket...this (sleeping then vomiting into the bucket) happened probably about 4 times during the night, i filled up the whole bucket. i had a couple more voms the next day — i made it to the toilet for one, and the other came on so quickly (after i tried eating some toast) that i threw up the undigested toast straight onto the floor — but am mostly feeling better now. i have no idea what caused it :(
I'm not that into just emeto situations, but putting this up for those that are
Thursday, 7:53am.
The morning is starting slow. Your alarm has gone off four or five times, dreading you out of a bleary comfort your pillows and duvet have afforded you. You have to get up, you have to put your feet on the floor and stand. You have thirty minutes to get presentable and leave before you're late for work. You have the same routine every morning, yet somehow you forget to take your meds three times before you finally remember. The aching dread that comes at the end of the week has begun to settle over you; you're less focused, drawn to scrolling on your phone while you bluster through your morning routine hazardously. You stayed up too late last night, you're regretting your decision. You don't want to go to work today, but you can't call in. Typical Thursday.
8:37am
You're running a little behind, but if you're lucky and don't hit too much traffic, you should be able to make it to work on time. You managed to make yourself a coffee and microwave breakfast burrito to eat on the way in. Your stomach growls and saliva pools under your tongue. You didn't eat quickly enough after taking your meds, the nausea starts to kick in. You cough a few times, swallow your spit down and pray. You force yourself to take a few large sips of your coffee, hoping that the calories from the creamer will be enough to settle your stomach. You start your car and take a bite of the burrito. It's the end bit, so it's mostly tortilla and a bit of egg. You try not to be disappointed as you back out of your parking spot and begin off to work.
8:58am
You're just in time for work. You won't have time to make it to your computer before 9:00, but you're on company property so you can clock in on your phone. You let yourself sit for a second before going inside. You're feeling restless; it's just anxiety about being late, your boss has been in a bad mood lately and you don't want to upset him. Your music on the way in was too loud, but the silence was even worse. Your breakfast burrito didn't actually heat through all the way and turned you off from the idea of eating entirely. Your coffee is too sweet, you poured too much creamer into it this morning, but you'll survive. You feel off, but you convince yourself that's just because you're tired.
12:23pm
You're exhausted, and you blame it on the stupid burrito. Your boring office job is exactly that, boring, but spending the day at a computer answering emails and redirecting phone calls was better than physical labor on days like today. Your stomach has been grumbling all day, but you're not really hungry, nothing sounds particularly good. You had a sleeve of graham crackers in your drawer at work, you've had a few this morning. They're good dipped in coffee, but both are rather dehydrating. Your favorite coworker came in with a big gulp full of nugget ice and gave you half. The cold water has been nice, but it's done little to solve how dry your mouth has been. You've made a cup of ramen for lunch, you're hoping that the warm and the salt will help you get through. Cup noodles aren't exactly your ideal lunch, but it's the least amount of effort and the least amount of chewing you can do, so you settle for it. You manage about half before your lunch break is over and you bin the remains.
2:00pm
You hate this meeting. You hate this meeting so much. This is the most this could have been an email meeting you've ever attended in your entire life. It's virtual, which is good you suppose because that restlessness from this morning is back. You can look composed on camera, but your feet are tapping and you're not sure what exactly is wrong. You're thankful that you don't have to do much talking in this meeting, but the ramen did little to fix the dry mouth situation. If anything all the sodium bloated you. You've been to the bathroom three times trying to get rid of some of it, but all the liquid remains sloshing around in your stomach. You stifle a burp behind your fist and try to concentrate.
4:45pm
Your boss left fifteen minutes ago, so you're going to leave fifteen minutes early. The sloshing in your stomach hasn't gone away, and you're too embarrassed to ask a coworker for antacid. You want to get out of here early, try to get home before the traffic gets too horrible. You just want to go lie down.
5:20pm
You toe your shoes off as you lean against your door because you know that if you bent over right now you might be sick. The last ten minutes of your drive have been stressful, your stomach hasn't been enjoying the stop and go of traffic. You've been trying to keep it settled with breathing and small sips of your cold water, but your burps have been getting wetter and wetter. The three flights of stairs up to your apartment have done little to settle your stomach, and you are so thankful that you've made it home before getting any worse. You make your way to your bedroom and get out of your uncomfortable work clothes in exchange for your largest and most comfortable pajamas. You feel another burp ripple up through your chest, but your hand springs to your mouth when your stomach heaves. The back of your throat is cold, water unsettled from the drive home. You know things aren't going to get better, you make your way to the bathroom.
You settle onto the bathroom floor, a shiver running up your spine as you lift the toilet seat lid up. You run your hand over your bloated stomach and the groan that leaves your mouth is involuntary. You burp once, twice, three times. They're wet, but have no power. Your stomach gurgles under your hand, that shiver returns. You burp again, deeper this time. You're nearly sick, but nothing more than some spit comes out. You wonder how long it will be before your stomach finally gives way. The restlessness has not left you all afternoon, you know you need to stay planted but you're itching to move. Your hands run along your stomach as you hover in front of the toilet bowl, trying your best to relieve your aching stomach of the gas that's been building. It hurts, you moan. You burp once more, wetter, and the liquid in your throat doesn't choke off or leave. You can't cough, so you heave, and a torrent of cold water splashes down into the toilet below you. You try to catch your breath, but a bubble of air has rolled from your belly button and up through your esophagus. You burp, and more liquid erupts and splashes below you as your stomach heaves twice.
You try to catch your breath, but the contents of your stomach have shifted. The pressure in your chest is trying to keep your throat closed. There is a pressure growing in your stomach, your hand along its side can feel the way the liquids don't seen to slosh anymore, but stand ready for expulsion. You gulp down a breath of air, you burp. There is silence where you're waiting for a breath, but the pressure in your stomach has grown and it has won. You heave once, then twice. There's noodles in this one.
You have a moment to catch your breath. You're able to fill your lungs for the price of a belch, but a harmless one. Dry, forceful, and short, you hope they help regain balance in your stomach, but after only two or three belches liquid found their way up. You burp up a mouthful, your tongue dangling with drool. You think you've cured your dry mouth from all this morning before your stomach retches and forces out more than you knew had been inside of it. You struggle to catch your breath and force up a few smaller waves as you try and clear your throat. Your stomach aches, and you try to settle. You haven't eaten much today, there is no way you can have any more in your stomach to vomit up. Still, you're not confident enough to leave your position in the bathroom yet.
You feel weak, hot and cold at the same time, and you know that even though it made no sense, more was to come. You burp, and your stomach retches some more liquid up. You wonder when this was from, how it got here. It's warm and a little bitter, but it doesn't hurt your throat in the way coffee or bile would. You breathe heavy and your stomach gurgles again. You put your hand on your stomach and feel how unsettled it is. You begin to burp, and you can not stop. One after the other, you're choking on them and then another torrent of vomit, followed by a second so powerful your face is halfway down the toilet bowl. You breathe, you heave, you spit into the bowl. You're a little bit dizzy, but as you breathe and steady yourself, you feel as though the worst of it might be over.
You spend several more minutes on the floor of your bathroom making sure your stomach was truly finished, and you begin to feel much better. You wonder what had kept it so upset in the first place.
2:36am
The ripple that tears its way through your gut is both an auditory warning of what's to come and a pain that sends you curled into yourself. Your body feels heavy, as does your stomach. You took it easy last night, you ate soft foods-mashed potatoes and some pasta. You drank water, you took it slow. You were feeling fine tonight. Throwing up earlier had really helped, but now you're not so certain that assessment was accurate. Your stomach feels hard, and it flinches when you run your fingers along it. Your feet spring to action, you know you don't have much time and you'd rather not get sick in your bed or on your floor. You feel your throat trying to open up, prepare itself for the sick that will be making its way up momentarily. You try not to think about it too much, you settle onto the bathroom floor again.
Things are quiet. For several seconds things are quiet as you hover in the darkness over the bowl of your toilet. Your stomach hangs heavy, though it continues to twitch, trying to heave itself higher. Your mouth hangs open and you let out a little whine. Your stomach contracts, and several waves of sick force themselves out of you. You settle, but only momentarily. Your stomach heaves again, and more sick spews out of you without you having much say in the matter. You hope it will be over soon, you hope it will make you feel better.
You heave two more times. Your stomach hurts. You throw up again, but it's forced, a mouthful of half digested mush forcing its way upwards. A deep burp forces its way up, and with it a thick stream of carb heavy sick. You burp again, you retch some more, you try and catch your breath. Your stomach heaves and forces more spit up. Your brow is sweaty, your legs are weak. You lie down on the floor, you appreciate how cold it is. You think perhaps spending the night here would be a good idea.
a prompt for you: someone tests their capacity by trying to eat a sheet cake, which is way too much for them to eat at once, so their stuffing ends with them finally puking. they could be solo or with a partner/group.
(if this isn't inspiring, maybe something in my "scenario" tag will be)
Mostly about eating but w some vomit and sex at the end 😘 got a lil long hehe!
Amy loved doing catering orders at work. It wasn't something that happened often- for the most part they were a small fine dining restaurant without the equipment to do large catering orders - but every once in a while someone the head chef particularly liked would call in a favor, and Amy would get to consult about desserts and have fun making up samples. It was a chance to experiment with her baking and the tips were always fantastic. And often, despite her best efforts to match her yield to the guest list at these events. there were significant leftovers.
In this case, it was even easier than usual- one of her chef's relatives had booked out the whole restaurant for his daughter's quinceañera. The girl had requested 4 simple sheet cakes - white with chocolate buttercream, two red velvet with cream cheese frosting, and one German chocolate. Amy had baked them all the day before and finished frosting and decorating a few hours before the event, so she headed out- but not before dropping by the dish pit to whisper in Nathan's ear.
A few weeks ago he had been lazing next to her in bed, idly drumming his fingers on her large belly, and he'd haltingly admitted that he liked watching her eat. That he wanted to feed her, that watching her stuff herself got him off. Amy, who had confessed her enjoyment of overindulgence and vomiting pretty early but didn't quite know how he felt about it, squeaked in delight and planted a huge kiss on his face. She'd enjoyed teasing him at work since then, making a point of eating near him, letting her chef coat ride up a little over her belly as she walked by. And now she leaned over the counter and gave him a little poke.
"What's up, Ames?" He asked, and Amy grinned at him.
"If there's any leftovers, get em and bring em over when you get off work, ok?"
Nathan answered her grin, and gave her a goofy little salute that made her giggle.
"Yes ma'am, your wish is my command." He told her, and she risked a quick kiss on the cheek before heading home to relax.
At almost exactly 8 (Nathan had an uncanny sense of time) she felt her phone buzz. The text from Nathan made her laugh out loud- it was a picture of one of the red velvet cakes, a two layer, 22x16 inch beast that was meant to serve 40 people. It was untouched except for one small square cut from the corner. Accompanying the image, this text: "are you feeling hungry?"
Amy fired back a string of enthusiastic emojis and went to get changed into something with an elastic waistband.
Nathan arrived about 10 minutes later, greeting her with a kiss and the cake. It was so large he had to use both hands to balance it, and when he set it on her small round dining room table it took up most of the space.
"They demolished the other three. I think they just overestimated how popular red velvet was gonna be." Nathan said, somewhat apologetic. Amy laughed.
"Hey, their loss, our gain, right? Uh, did you want to eat too, or....?" she blushed. She was rarely coy about her kinks, but this thing with Nathan was so new. It didn't help that he was awkward too- not shy, or ashamed, really, but he usually needed time and a little prodding to get to say what he wanted. Except when he didn't.
"I'd like to watch you eat the whole thing." He said frankly, with a little self deprecating laugh. "Feed you, too, if you don't feel like you can keep eating. Or at least, uh, see how far you can get. I like watching you eat."
Amy's blush deepened, and she leaned up to give him a passionate kiss.
"Well I like eating, so...." She pulled out a chair and sank into it, motioning for Nathan to sit beside her. From this angle, the cake didn't look unmanageable- it'd be rich, but she had a good capacity, she could keep a lot of food down, couldn't she? Especially with Nathan encouraging her and pushing her and watching her stuff herself. She wanted to give him a good show.
Amy started out a little slow, savoring each bite of moist cake and creamy frosting. She felt a certain pride in her work- the cake was dense but not heavy, not too sweet. It glided down her throat as she listened to Nathan recap the rest of the work day, telling her funny stories and bringing her glasses of milk to wash down her cake.
Amy was halfway through before she started to slow down. The cake was sitting heavily in her belly now, firm and stodgy, and the icing was starting to hurt her teeth a little. She swallowed with some effort, looking up at Nathan through her eyelashes.
"I don't know if I can finish it, Nate..." she said, a little overdramatic. He rolled his eyes and told her she was playing it up, but she could see the way his hands were shaking a little, his eyes drawn to her belly.
"You wanted to feed me." She reminded him, and leaned back in her chair. Her stomach rarely grew when she was stuffing, since it was so large in general, but now it was protruding over the waistband of her sweatpants, and she hiked up her loose t-shirt to show it off.
"I did." Said Nathan, slightly breathless. He scooted his chair closer to hers, laying his hand on her belly. Amy arched her back to press it into his hands.
"You feel nice..." she murmured, closing her eyes. He was stroking her stomach gently, like he was exploring the swell of it. Amy moaned happily.
"Can I give you another bite?" Nathan asked hesitantly, and Amy's eyes snapped open.
"Please feed me." She said, leaning forward and opening her mouth. It took a little effort, and her stomach clenched slightly as she sat up, but she loved how Nathan was laser focused on her, his soft noises of arousal and his touch on her belly...he gently placed a fork full of cake into her mouth, and she swallowed happily.
"More, please?" She asked, scooting her chair even closer. Now their thighs were touching, and as Nathan continued to feed her, bite by bite, Amy stroked his thigh. In a few minutes, as the cake diminished, she began idly playing with his cock. Nathan's hands were trembling a little now, but he kept guiding cake into her mouth, one fork full at a time, kissing her neck as she swallowed.
For a while, they were silent- the only sounds were the soft moans both of them were giving, and Amy's quiet swallowing. And then her stomach lurched, making an audible "glurp!"
Nathan withdrew the bite of cake from her lips, looking at her with some concern.
"You gonna be okay? We can stop..."
Amy shook her head, the movement sending a delicious wave of nausea through her as her stomach shook. She could feel her fat trembling, stretched around her firm, rounded stomach. She was most of the way through the cake by now, and the competitive part of her wanted to finish. As did the part of her that was caught in Nathan's eyes, the way he massaged her huge belly, the way he gently but urgently pressed food into her mouth, the way he looked at her with something like worship as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of cake. Despite growing nausea and another loud grumble from her stomach, Amy leaned forward and took another bite of cake.
"I can finish it." She told Nathan confidently (though that was immediately undercut by a low sickly belch).
"You know, I bet you can." Nathan's voice was somewhere between breathless and ironic, and even with her stomach churning Amy had to laugh. He was so bad at asking for what he wanted. Luckily she had no such qualms.
"Hey Nate?" She asked, deceptively demure. He raised his eyebrows at her, still massaging her belly.
"Yes, oh flower of my heart?"
She kicked his ankle, giggling until she hiccuped.
"Shut up, oh my god, you dork." She teased, shifting in preparation to stand. "I was gonna tell you to come to the couch and let me lie down while you sit on me and feed me, but since you decided to be all corny..."
Nathan sprang up, offering her his hand. "Corniness ends here. Do you want help up, Ames?"
Amy probably could have used it, but there was something satisfying about heaving herself to her feet. Her stomach lurched and jostled, even as packed as it was, and she moaned and placed a hand on the top swell of it.
"I don't need help, I'm a big girl." She told Nathan with a slightly queasy grin. He returned it.
"Yes you are." He said with admiration, reaching down to fondle the base of her belly. Amy blushed. Nathan seemed enamored of her fat, the way he fondled her rolls and stared at her tummy and thighs...it thrilled her. He looked at her like a man dying of thirst looks at a river.
She took his hand and let him guide her to the couch, where she stripped off her sweats and laid down, blushing faintly. Nathan was also blushing a little, but he returned to the kitchen and retrieved the now significantly depleted cake. There were only 5 or 6 portions left, but even that made Amy's stomach rumble ominously. The huge amount of cake she'd eaten was soaking up the milk in her belly, bloating and heavy, weighing her down....
Before she could protest (not that she wanted to), Nathan was taking off his pants and straddling her, his hips pressed gorgeously up against the lower swell of her belly. He balanced the tray of cake on her gut, and handed her the fork.
"Or do you want me to keep feeding you?" He asked. Amy moaned loudly and bucked her hips against him, closing her eyes.
"Please feed me -" she gasped. The next thing she felt was a forkful of red velvet cake against her lips. She opened her mouth and let it in, swallowing greedily even as her stomach churned. She was lost in the sweetness of the cake and icing, the way it coated her tongue and slowly rolled down her throat. It felt like the cake was piling up inside of her, pressing her belly outward and stacking up in her throat...each bite was a struggle that made her clit twitch and her stomach roil. And all the while Nathan was pressed against her, massaging her stomach, feeding her bite by bite.
At last he leaned forward to kiss her, the weight of his body putting pressure on her taut stomach. Amy moaned against his lips. Nathan kissed her passionately and leaned back a little to admire her, taking a moment to wipe a trace of icing from her cheek.
"You ate all of it." He said in a slightly dazed voice. Amy could feel his cock pressing against her, but she didn't think she could move.
"I did...." she was also hazy, the sugar and weight and arousal and nausea all blurring the world around her. A low, slow cramp rolled through her guts, and she whimpered a little, unable to sit up. Nathan offered his hand again and this time Amy gratefully took it, carefully scooting so she could sit upright. That gave her the chance to look down at her belly.
Amy gasped in pleasure. She was so *round*, all the softness of her curves filled out with cake, her stomach flab smoothed to a tight, dense orb. She ran her hands over it, feeling it churn under her fingers. Nathan's hands joined hers, stroking and caressing her belly.
"You're incredible." He said with that serious tone, and gave her a kiss. "I can't believe how sexy you are all stuffed like this, you're gorgeous."
The smile Amy gave him was queasy but genuine, and the little burp she let out made them both laugh. Amy settled back into the couch, letting Nathan have better access to her belly. As he played with it, stroking and kissing and rubbing it, he stirred up more bubbles of gas. Amy moaned and burped, twisting in arousal as the pressure in her guts grew and grew. Nathan was trailing kisses over the globe of her belly, heading for her thighs, when that growing pressure suddenly became unbearable.
Amy's hands shot back up to her mouth as her cheeks filled with sickly sweet vomit. She gulped convulsively, trying to keep it down. Nathan, with his usual presence of mind, didn't bother going for a trash can- he simply grabbed the foil catering tin that had held the cake, and pressed it under Amy's chin.
The second she dropped her hands, vomit poured from her lips. It was thick and sweet, pale pink with dark red chunks, and it rushed up from her stomach in a torrent. Amy took a deep breath and expelled another flood, this time splattering out of the container a little. Nathan's forearms were now flecked with vomit- Amy had just enough time to see the little streams of bile running down his wrist before she was throwing up again. She was loud, the torrent of half-digested cake and milk gargling its way up from her over strained belly. Nathan was saying something sweet to her, rubbing her back with one hand and balancing the container somewhat precariously with the other. Amy had the presence of mind to clutch at it just before it tipped. She took a shuddering breath and spewed up another torrent of thick pink vomit. At least whatever came up from her stomach couldn't overflow the original container, right?
With both hands now free, Nathan continued playing with her heaving belly. He massaged and manipulated her as she emptied herself back out, the tightness spilling out and leaving her soft and pliable again. As Amy heaved and groaned in pleasure, she could almost feel her tummy deflate, melting as the cake she'd ingested poured back out of her.
Finally, she was able to catch a breath. Even with a brief reprieve from throwing up it was hard to concentrate- Nathan was still fondling her belly, kissing her neck and face, his cock pressed hard against her, teasing. She set aside the tin cake pan that was now sloshing with her vomit, and yanked him down on top of her. The weight of his body on her belly and the quick thrust into her made her retch again, but for the moment she was safe. Dizzy with arousal, still pinned by her own weight and sugar coma, desperately nauseated, but not going to puke just yet. Amy clutched Nathan close to her as he fucked her passionately, each thrust bumping against the base of her still distended belly.
They both came quickly- almost too quickly, but there would be time for more later. As Nathan collapsed on Amy post-orgasm, his body compressed her stomach again, and she had to roll over quickly to vomit once more into the cake pan on the floor.
"Sorry, babe..." he mumbled, sitting up a little, but Amy shook her head and pulled him close again. Her stomach was still churning, working to digest or reject the mass that still weighed it down, and she wanted Nathan to feel every single movement. His body was comforting, like a weighted blanket.
"Are you going to throw up again, sweet pea?" Nathan asked in a hazy, fucked-out tone. Amy couldn't tell.
"Dunno. Keep holding me?"
"As long as you want." He told her, and gave her a soft squeeze. And when she had to struggle upwards a half hour later, her stomach finally rejecting the last of the cake, he held her upright and rubbed her belly as she emptied herself out. And then they went to bed and Amy was fucked senseless, and went to sleep empty and fulfilled.
Houghghhh I’ve been looking forward to stuffing myself sick all week, but now that the day’s come around I’ve been so nervous I’ve barely been hungry ;-; Apparently I’ve got a bit more lingering emetophobia than I thought…
Despite that, I’ve eaten two big servings of macaroni. The first bowl was delicious, but the second one was a bit harder to get down. I had some chocolate cake, too. It tasted good at first, but towards the end I just had to mechanically keep chewing and forcing myself to swallow… I don’t quite feel nauseous yet, just uncomfortably full. Maybe I’ll drink some more water and see if I can change that ;P
My fellow perverts! Send me courage, send me horny asks!! I’ll turn on anon, just for tonight :3c
(Hoooly shit. That’s the most I’ve thrown up in a long time. Definitely the most I’ve ever made myself throw up.)
After an hour or two of too much food bloating my tummy, I finally got up to puke. On my way to the bathroom I stripped until I was just wearing a tight pair of leggings, nothing on underneath. The fabric hugged my crotch, and I rubbed myself through the thin polyester as I approached the toilet.
I leaned over, feeling the heavy carbs slosh in my belly. I chugged some water and hung my head over the porcelain bowl, but it wasn’t coming up.
Slowly, I opened my jaw and slid a single finger across my tongue. I took a moment to feel up the slick insides of my own mouth. The walls of my throat contracted as I pushed deeper. I retched once, unproductively. Trying again, I only managed to spit up a little saliva.
Before I could lose my nerve, I stroked the back of my throat with greater force, until the first wet spurt of liquid came up from my stomach. It was just water… I needed more.
Panting, I kneeled down before the toilet. Involuntary moans escaped me as I spit into the water. I opened my mouth again and started fingering my throat in earnest. It only took a single dry heave until I was spilling my guts into the toilet bowl. As the watery vomit evacuated my stomach, I could taste the chocolate cake I had eaten earlier.
Dazed, it took me a few seconds of drooling and spitting to start gagging myself again. It came up quicker this time, and I threw up another gush of unrecognizable dessert. Some of it splashed up onto the toilet seat, the sight of it making my clit throb. I pissed a little into my leggings, and the wet fabric clung to my pussy. I straightened back up and took a minute to drink some water and touch myself some more.
It didn’t take long before I was overcome by need. Hand down my pants, I once again leaned over the toilet bowl. I shoved two fingers in my pussy and two in my mouth, and puked explosively. I missed the bowl but that only made me wetter, looking down at the mess I made. I finger-fucked myself from both ends and threw up again, and again. Pasta and stomach acid bubbled up my throat, and I puked up my dinner into the now filthy water below.
As I started to feel empty, I leaned back. Burping and gasping for breath, I peed myself again. My pussy was soaking wet, and I rubbed my clit to the sight of a toilet filled with my vomit. Obscene sloshing sounds echoed in the quiet bathroom as my tight leggings filled up with piss faster than it could spill onto the floor below.
I came with a ragged whine; pants full of piss, puke splattered across the bathroom. I dry heaved as I rubbed myself through the aftershocks, finally run empty.
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