Someone having such bad stomach virus for days that all they've become is a puke and diarrhea machine. Everything they eat or drink turn into either and they're exhausted and wrung out to no end. Themself and their caretaker is tired of the never ending messes and accidents between bed and toilet since they can barely feel it when they need to go anymore, just a sudden stomach spasm and liquid comes spewing out either end. So their caretaker, with how exhausted the sickie is, decides to just put them in a diaper and take care of them in bed.
In the middle of the night they'll moan about how much their belly hurts and can't settle and their caretaker will only patiently rub their back and tell them to just let it come out, they'll feel better then. Sickie moans "I can't, I'm gonna poop," and the caretaker gently reminds them that they have diapers on, and it's okay.
So sickie can't hold it in any longer and gags and vomit into a bucket the caretaker has hold out for them. Each wave of vomiting is induced by a strong spasm that pushes their belly inwards, and as they gag and moan their stomach also pushes downwards; a steady rush of mushy diarrhea fills their diaper along as they sat in bed and kept on trying to empty out of both ends.
Got so sick earlier, I managed to pull myself out of the bathtub and record on time, but I did get my phone a little wet.
I was feeling off ever since lunch, I think I mightāve eaten something bad. I holed up in my room all day nursing this tummy ache. My stomach was so bloated it was hard and painful to the touch, so I decided to take a warm bath to get more comfortable. My stomach felt so sick, every time I burped and released air, a felt my lunch crawl up my throat.
I wasnāt able to enjoy the warm water for long, because as soon as I got situated, my stomach hitched and I let out a sickly belch, quickly leaning over the side of the tub as a measly strand of sick escaped my throat. I started salivating, and my stomach flipped. I quickly got out of the bathtub and dried off, with only seconds to spare, I hit record on my phone and braced myself in front of the toilet, panting and drooling into the disgusting water below.
When I tell you I SPEWED that shit I am not joking. Iām so glad I caught that on video, my stomach was contracting so much it hurt, and my cheeks kept ballooning with every heave. It got everywhere. Iām still so bloated, but the nausea is thankfully gone (for now).
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.
In the weeks after her particularly disastrous dinner, it was remarked upon that Lady Leanna was rarely seen without her nurse attending to her. The gossip was that her illness had grown worse, and that was why she'd been clutching tight to the servant's arm every time she was seen. Despite her illness, Leanna was round and vivacious, her hips and belly swelling under her fine dresses. There was even a rumor that some secret swain had finally conquered her and impregnated her, and that was why she had retreated, somewhat, from public life. There was in fact a tiny grain of truth in that rumor.
Leanna's parents had been satisfied by her seemingly better behavior. She wasn't cadging sweets from the cooks anymore, and the wine cellars were untouched. Her parents were even starting to allow her to miss more social events. Leanna suspected this had less to do with her percieved correction, and more with the fact that she was leaving marriagable age behind as her younger (and better suited) sister Amelia entered it.
More important than the relief from social events was the way that Carolyn treated her. She doted upon Leanna now, more attentive even than before that night on the stairs. She had ceased to prescribe medicine and restrict her diet. Now, she rubbed her belly whenever it ached. She spoke with the seamstress about letting out Leanna's dresses. Almost at once she had become much more of a lady in waiting, now that she was complicit in Leanna's little secret. Leanna had been particularly pleased about the simple little scheme she had suggested, which Carolyn executed with her usual efficiency.
When given a bit of money, Carolyn would go into the village and buy food and wine for Leanna. It was simple, rustic, peasant stuff, but filling. Leanna had even tasted beer and mead for the first time, thrilling at the way they bubbled and filled her belly. She was spending more time in her chambers, refusing all servants other than Carolyn.Ā And she was growing to rely on her subtlety, her care...it shamed her to value a servant so highly, but the woman had made herself indispensable. And then there was the thought of that first smile, not yet repeated. Leanna dreamed about that smile, that clear-eyed insolent gaze, more often than she liked to admit.
It was two weeks into their arrangement that Leanna felt the desire for true overindulgence, not just a full belly. She rang for Carolyn, who appeared immediately.
"Yes, my lady?" As always, she was pin perfect except for that unruly hair. Leanna's fingers itched to fix it. She vowed that as much as she enjoyed Carolyn's hands on her, she would never let her near her hair.
"I want a feast. Arrange it. As much food and beer - no, mead, I want sweet. Desserts. Pastries and puddings. And you're to attend to me while I eat. A-and after."
Even now, when Carolyn seemed happy to feed her, Leanna stumbled on her last words. The admission of enjoyment still felt dangerous.Ā But Carolyn simply nodded and curtseyed, and went about her appointed tasks.
In an hour, she returned to Leanna's suite, bearing a tray piled high with various baked sweets. She set it in front of Leanna and went to bank up the fire.
"I'm sorry, my lady, but I may have to make several trips. If I'm seen delivering so much food to your room...let alone alcohol..."
Leanna was already selecting a beautiful croissant. "Use your judgement." She said, and took her first bite. "And bring me as much as you can. But you must be there when I want you to...to comfort me."
"Of course, my lady." Carolyn answered with another curtsey. No sign of blush or tremor. Damn the woman, she was like a brick wall. And then she was gone again, off to do whatever she did to perfectly attend.
Leanna tried to pace herself, wait until Carolyn returned, but she quickly devoured the first tray of pastries. It was a gorgeous array of little cakes and pastries and puddings, no doubt arranged secretly with the manor cooks (she couldn't have missed a patisserie in the village, could she?). But the enjoyment of the sweets was somewhat ruined by her frustration with Carolyn and herself. Her appetite was diminished, but the way her belly swelled wasn't quite as exciting as it had been before. By the time Carolyn returned, she was pacing, one hand peevishly rubbing her belly.
"What kept you?" Leanna snapped. Carolyn bowed her head and handed her a large jug of mead.
"It was difficult to get this to you without being seen, my lady. Would you prefer me to stay, or would you like more food?" Carolyn's voice was as even as ever. Leanna snatched the jug from her, and her stomach grumbled loudly.
"More food. And be hasty. I'll need a..a..." she stammered as she tried to speak about her secret again. Red faced, she forced her way through the words. "I'll need you to bring a clean chamber pot as well. Or s-something else for me to....to vomit into."
There it was, plainly spoken. She took a deep draught of mead and set it down, cheeks flaming. Ridiculous to blush for a servant like this.
"I'll be back shortly, my lady." Carolyn said, and exited the room as soundlessly as she had entered. Leanna was beginning to suspect she was some kind of wraith.
As before, she drank with a certain sort of petulance. When she was alone, when she had been doing this herself, it had been exciting. The slow build of pressure in her belly, the nausea, then the release...the disgusting little secret made more exciting by the fact that it was disgusting, and it was her secret. She had enjoyed this herself for many years. Why did it less satisfy her now that it was shared? Why did she care so much about what this blank slate of a woman thought of her?
Leanna resolved to put this all out of her mind and focus on her body. It didn't matter what Carolyn thought of her. Carolyn had to do as she ordered. And Leanna knew how to enjoy herself with or without an unreadable nurse.
She sat back by the fire and gulped down mead, heedless of it running down her chin. It took her far less time than she wanted to finish, but she was now feeling pleasantly hazy.
With a queasy belch, Leanna relaxed back into her couch. The warmth of the fire was pleasant, as was the weight of her belly pressing on her. She stretched out and cupped her belly, massaging it gently. Another, louder belch forced its way up her throat, and she moaned happily. The manor was in wine country, and her parents considered mead and beer to be uncouth, and forbade their servants from drinking in the manor apart from holidays. Before Carolyn, her only taste of these fizzing drinks had been a rare, exciting flute of champagne.
The thought of Carolyn brought a frown to Leanna's face. She found herself wishing that it was Carolyn's hands massaging her, as she had done before with lesser meals. What was keeping her?
Well, she could go hang, Leanna thought with a sudden drunken venom. She didn't need her, she just needed to be sick and touch herself and sleep. She'd be sick on the floor to teach her.
She was just raising herself from her couch to do so (with significant effort) when there was a light knock and the nurse slipped in.
Carolyn was carrying an enormous piece of sponge cake, decorated somewhat artlessly with dollops of whipped cream. Despite her anger Leanna salivated at rhe sight. Before she could heave herself upright fully, Carolyn was offering it to her with a prim little bow.
"My apologies for my lateness, Lady, and for the presentation...I had to make the cream myself.
Leanna paused, halfway through taking the platter.
"Yourself?" She asked. Carolyn nodded.
"There was none prepared. I would have asked the manor cooks, but I suspected it would have been remarked upon. Again, my apologies."
Leanna took the plate and fork at last, aware of the blush in her cheeks again. She was unwilling to lose her sense of grievance, so she snapped, "and the chamber pot?"
But her voice lacked true anger. Part of it was that she was starting to feel a bit ill, but there was also...she wondered if it was difficult to whip cream. She had never considered it. And there was something about the messiness of the dollops that charmed Leanna against her will.
"Outside, my lady. And a jug of water. By your leave?"
Leanna waved her fork dismissively and took a bite. It was rich, and the cream had soaked into the sponge in a delightful way. Despite her growing nausea, she ate with alacrity. Carolyn silently removed the previous dishes, set the water pitcher across the room along with a linen cloth, and placed the chamber pot near the couch. Leanna was grateful that Carolyn had obtained a particularly large one.
She handed her plate back to her nurse with a groan of effort, brushing crumbs from her dress.
"A-attend to me." The swell of her stomach was pressing at the seams of her dressing gown. Moaning lightly, she eased back against the couch, admiring it. And finally, Carolyn seated herself beside her.
Leanna sighed in pleasure as Carolyn massaged her belly. there was little give in it, all of the food and air making it as hard as stone. But Carolyn managed to avoid tender spots. Her skillful hands seemed to know exactly where to press, where to stroke, and where to knead in deeper. For a long, gorgeous time (she could not tell how long) Leanna belched, and moaned, and melted.
"Carolyn...." she murmured, all grievances forgotten in her current bliss. The heat of the fire had become less comforting and more sickening, and she could feel the sweetness in her mouth turning sour. Her tongue was thick with nausea, and between her legs was a heat that had nothing to do with the fire.
"How may I please you?" Carolyn asked, and there was something in her voice that made Leanna open her eyes.
Carolyn was looking back at her again, that shameless look that she had given once before. Leanna should have been offended, should have wanted to slap the glasses off her for her impudence. Instead she felt herself flood with pleasure. And her mouth with nauseous saliva.
Leanna struggled to sit up, her heavy belly weighing her down even as it began to heave. Carolyn supported her as always. She had not had her nurse's hands on her while throwing up since that night, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.
"I....I'm going to vomit." She gulped, holding Carolyn's gaze as well as she could. "Continue to...tend to my stomach....and if I-"
She interrupted herself with a loud retch, and Carolyn reached for the chamber pot.
"Yes, lady?"
"I-" Leanna belched and jerked forward, a flood of sweet, brown vomit pouring from her mouth. It was thick from the pastries and cake, but it passed easily through her lips. ItĀ barely made a sound on the porcelain as it spilled into the chamberpot that Carolyn had thrust under her chin.
Gagging, Leanna took it from her- it was large enough that it had to be held with both hands, and she wanted Carolyn's hands on her. She had abandoned speech for the moment. Her throat clenched and she vomited again as she felt Carolyn gently brush her hair back from her face. Then oh, a hand on her back, and then blessed touch on her heaving belly.
Leanna buried her face in the chamberpot and let up another gargling wave of sick, smaller this time, but louder. The gas in her belly was forcing its way up, sending thrills of pleasure at the way it tickled her throat. She burped and retched, bringing up mouthful after noisy mouthful as Carolyn ministered to her. Her head was spinning, and all of her senses seemed narrowed to a point at the base of her belly. With each heave, she felt Carolyn's fingers digging expertly into her body, coaxing up more and more vomit.
At last, Leanna caught her breath, blinking at the chamber pot in her hands in astonishment. It was almost overflowing, bits of half digested cake floating in a sea of mead.Ā And her stomach was still in turmoil, despite the pleasure of Carolyn's touch.
"I-" Leanna's voice was strangled, and she had to clear her throat and spit in a way that was unbecoming of her status. Carolyn was looking up at her attentively, her gray eyes focused sharply. Leanna tried again.Ā
"I need you to empty this discretely. A-and quickly. I'm not finished vomiting. And I...need you to continue attending to me until I am finished. And then you will be dismissed."
"Of course, my lady." Carolyn said softly, taking the chamber pot from Leanna.Ā She held it carefully, close to her chest, and then reached forward to tuck a lock of Leanna's hair delicately behind her ear. Leanna felt heat run through her body. The look between them was electric, Carolyn's cool gray eyes meeting Leanna's bright green ones. Leanna felt her breath catch in her chest. And then Carolyn was turning away, slipping out of the bedroom door and leaving Leanna alone again.
She slumped backwards, clutching her still rotund belly. Her mouth was filled with the taste of vomit, sickly sweet and coating her teeth. She ached for Carolyn's touch.
It felt like hours, ages, but it was likely more like a minute before the door opened again and Carolyn returned with the chamberpot emptied, even cleaned. Leanna, who had been cradling her overused stomach and belching quietly to herself, reached for it desperately.Ā
"If I may, my lady...would you move forward?" Carolyn asked, holding the vessel out of reach. With a pouting frown, Leanna did so, reaching again for the pot.
"How d-huuuuurp- dare you make me wait fu-UUURP-further..." she sputtered, agitating the remaining bubbles in her belly. As she closed her eyes and let out a series of deep, long burps, she felt Carolyn sitting beside her, moving closer, closer...
Leanna's eyes snapped open as she was suddenly encircled, the cool porcelain of the bowl pressed into her belly again. But now there was a warmer pressure. Carolyn had wrapped her arms around Leanna's heaving stomach from behind, holding the chamberpot in front of her. Her body was warm and soft against Leanna's back, and her breath tickled her ear as she spoke.
"Does this please my lady?"
Leanna answered her with a hiccuping moan, bowing her head forward. She could feel both Carolyn's arms and the porcelain swell of the chamberpot compressing her belly, and now that she was leaning over it again...Carolyn must have been hasty in cleaning. It still reeked of vomit. Leanna had half a thought of chastising her and then it was lost as the rest of her gluttony poured out of her.
It was only a few heaves this time, helped by the pressure Carolyn was putting on her belly. Freed from holding the chamberpot, Leanna clutched at her chest as she spewed, and risked running a finger coyly between her legs. She could barely concentrate, however. The vomit poured from her mouth profusely, leaving her gasping.
By the end, her stomach was still twisting and hitching, but no longer so painfully compressed.Ā She glanced down, breathless, and couldn't help smiling. She had almost filled the chamberpot again. Behind her, Carolyn whispered into her ear.
"Are you satisfied, my lady?"
"Almost." Leanna wiped the last bit of bile off her lips, and took the sloshing chamberpot into her own hands again. She had outdone herself, she thought with admiration. As had Carolyn.Ā Who still had her hands resting on the swell of her belly.
Leanna blushed, and set the chamberpot down dangerously quickly, almost spilling it. The smell made her retch again, and Carolyn's fingers tightened on her...she whimpered and covered her mouth.
"Easy, easy," Carolyn said softly, steadying Leanna as she so often did these days. "I'll make you comfortable, lady, you've tired yourself out."
"Yes...yes, help me to bed...and then finish the cleaning, and you'll be..." she lost her thought. Carolyn was making no attempt to help her stand. Instead she was holding Leanna close from behind, hands wrapped around her and smoothing her belly. Leanna let out a loud moan of pleasure.
She was aching in a different way now. Her belly was slowly calming, but she desperately wanted to touch herself...wanted Carolyn to touch her. Not just on the belly, she wanted her hands lower. Between her legs. But that was impossible to say after being so forthright about feeding and emptying herself.
Again, time seemed to distort. Leanna was still dazed from food and heat and alcohol and vomit, but most of all from the slim woman pressed against her back.
Carolyn was surprisingly soft- Leanna had expected to be poked by, if not sharp elbows, a sharp whalebone corset. There was none of that. Only comfort-Ā her soothing embrace and the soft rise and fall of her bosom against Leanna's back.
Gently, Carolyn caressed her, hands gliding over her still unsettled stomach. Leanna's breathing slowed and she leaned back against her nurse, sighing. She closed her eyes, surrendering to Carolyn's ministrations. She must have slept, then. All she remembered was Carolyn's breath in her ear, the touch of her body sweeter, more delicious than anything she'd eaten that night
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 arenāt worried.Ā
Lunch time rolls around and youāre starting to feel the churning more. Youāre sluggish and a little clammy but still, you arenāt overly worried yet. You enjoy some oysters and scallops for lunch. You eat every last bite. You debate ordering some more but you donāt. Your stomach is full and taught now. The churning is really picking up. āNmmphā you say and you feel a churn.Ā
A couple hours go by and now youāre really not feeling well. Your stomach is spinning and you can feel the pressure rising inside. āUgh oh man I donāt feel goodā 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, itās like a bomb dropped. You sprint like a madman to the bathroom but youāre out shopping. You have to find one and fast. You see a worker and stop him in his tracks - āBathroom, whereās the bathroom?!ā 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. Youāre covered in sweat. Youāre nauseous. āOh man I need to go homeā but you canāt - not until youāre finished. Finally youāre done and you can drive home. Youāre about half way home when the churning comes back. āOh no, no no noā you say in a panic. You canāt let this happen in your car. Your stomach is churning and roaring and you donāt know if youāre going to poop and puke.Ā
You finally make it home and you sprint to the bathroom and shut the door. You donāt 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 itās 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. āMmph uh - uh oh I thi-ā your sentence is cut off by projectile vomit into the bucket. The sound alone is enough to make you sick again. āOh - oh my godā you say through your panting. Youāre 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 isnāt food poisoning. Youāre sick. Youāve knowing it from the minute you woke up this morning but you didnāt listen. Instead you filled your gut with ammo and now youāre paying the price.Ā
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 itās hitting the bottom of the bowl. āOh God not againā you say before the storm hits. Youāre begging, pleading, praying itās not both ends again but you know it is. The vomit comes first. Itās intense. Chunks of food come flying out your mouth and nose. Youāre 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. āMake it sto-ā vomit finishes your sentence. Youād think after such violent episodes, youād feel better getting it out of your system but you donāt. You feel worse. Itās like your stomach is enjoying this. You clean up your mess and take some meds for the diarrhea. You head to bed.Ā
You sleep for a few hours but itās 3am and your stomach is ready for more. You wake up and you have no time to prepare. āOh I think thereās moreā 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 youāve ever heard. āGod please not againā 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. Youāre lying in bed and youāre holding your stomach, praying that was the last of it. You sleep until morning.Ā
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 doesnāt take long before youāre back at the throne. The sheer amount of vomit that youāre producing is honestly impressive. All you want is to sleep and eat but you canāt do either right now. Your day is filled sprinting back and forth to the bathroom. At one point, you know you wonāt 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 canāt wait for it to be done.Ā
This is the last day (hopefully) and youāre exhausted. Your stomach is livid. Itās bubbling and churning and all you can do is moan and erupt without much warning. Itās 4am and you wake up to your stomach making an awful, ominous sound. It sounds like itās 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. Youāre filling the toilet before you can even flush it. You need to throw up. You donāt want to but you donāt 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. Itās awful. The bathroom is totally destroyed. You sit there and your stomach is finally quiet. Itās finally over.Ā
If someone wants to chat to comfort me, it'd be really appreciated. Can't remember the last time my stomach got this badš
Some of it splashed back on my face and boobs.
Really craving a hot bath right now because my mind can still feel the chunks between my boobs despite me wiping them away but I'm so dizzy, it's too dangerous to take one alone.
Just thinking about the broccoli on my boobs makes me gag again.
Feeling so sick he hangs his head in the toilet bowl. When heās vomiting itās so violent and copious itās hard not to make a mess. She doesnāt care about that. Sheās pressed against his back, kissing his shoulder, arms wrapped around his body, squeezing him to her. āGet it all up baby.ā His body obeys her.
So tired but too nauseous to sleep, heās been lying in your lap while you gently rub his stomach. His breaths get more shallow and his throat works as he swallows convulsively. You feel his body start to tremble in your arms and you know heās trying to fight the nausea because heās so, so tired of throwing up. He tells you, hoarsely with his raw throat, he feels sick again. The acid is climbing and burning the back of his tongue. He opens his mouth and pants. āSit up baby,ā you tell him, and lift him up until heās leaning on your chest. You hold the bucket under his chin as he starts to weakly cough and gag again. Itās a wonder he still has anything left to bring up. You tell him to puke into the bucket, and kiss his hair as he retches and drools, and retches again. āCome on baby, puke it up.ā He gags several more times, then his body obeys you and he finally vomits, a big splash hitting the bottom of the bucket. āGood boy. Again.ā
Last night when I was perusing tumblr I was a little surprised when I came across some emeto audios (I'm new here, lol). As it turns out, I had this saved recording of myself throwing up from a few months ago when I had a bout of the flu. I recorded it just for me to go back and listen to, never with the intention of anyone else hearing it. I thought I was totally weird for recording it.
Coming across those audios last night made me feel less alone. Clearly other people have recorded themselves getting ill too. I'm glad we can be weird together š and I've decided to post mine (it took me a hot minute to figure out how)!
For context, I live by myself and pretty far from family, so I was on my own. I had been running a decently high fever the past two days and fighting some chest congestion. The stomach stuff started the morning of this recording: just really bad nausea and cramping. At the time of this audio, I was freezing and too weak to move to the toilet so what you hear is me leaning over the edge of my bed to throw up into a rubbish bin.
The first part of this audio is me trying to swallow down the nausea while excess saliva dripped into the bin (it's the worst feeling - when you can't stop salivating and you just know you're done for). The nausea ultimately crests around the 1:30 mark. Unfortunately, I'm coughing a lot when I start throwing up, so apologies if that masks the sound of the puke a little bit. I'm also breathing really heavy throughout the whole thing which is probably a little annoying. Some of the audios I listened to last night had such quiet and dainty pukers - I can't relate! š
Feeling so sick he hangs his head in the toilet bowl. When heās vomiting itās so violent and copious itās hard not to make a mess. She doesnāt care about that. Sheās pressed against his back, kissing his shoulder, arms wrapped around his body, squeezing him to her. āGet it all up baby.ā His body obeys her.
Thinking about lying in bed with a sick person. Lying against them from behind, feeling their fever warmth through your body. Wrapping your arm around their middle, the gentle pressure enough to trigger them gagging. Leaning them over the side of the bed to retch over the bucket. Pressing against their back, feeling their whole body jerk with every heave. Squeezing their stomach firmly immediately makes them vomit, and you encourage them to get it all up as you hear it splashing into the bucket. Cuddling them and massaging their abdomen, kissing the back of their neck until theyāve emptied their stomach and are gagging up saliva and bile. Then turning them towards you to rub their back and comfort them while they quietly cry and continue dry-heaving uselessly into the front of your shirt.
