In Which I Try Emetophilia

By Kendra Holliday | October 28, 2016

I told this story last night at Dirty Birdie story hour at The Monocle in the Grove…

Oh, the shame! :)

Oh, the shame! 🙂

Have you ever wanted to wake up, chug a bottle of red wine and devour a bunch of French pastries, and then throw up all over some guy?

OK, I admit I haven’t ever thought of that before, but when the opportunity presented itself, I decided to go for it.

I’ve never been The Bulimic Kind, but I’ve always wondered what it’s like to puke on purpose. I feel like I’ve been needing to binge n’ purge lately – a ritualistic, symbolic gesture.

My partner Matthew was very much opposed to the idea – he was concerned for my safety.

But I really wanted to take on the challenge, so he respected my decision. He’s an extraordinary man to put up with all my crazy antics, let me tell you! After all – he’s not my father, but he is my Daddy! 😉

The Roman Shower scene took a lot of planning. Puke Boy (read my interview with him here) stopped by the day before, bearing gifts from Whole Foods and the local donut shop.

My hurl was going to be classy, people! He was going to taste all of this secondhand, right from the whore’s mouth.

I started preparing for the elaborate, gut wrenching ritual right at 9am. I was nervous – would I be able to pull it off? I made up my mind that I HAD to – I was going to MAKE myself puke, and that was all there was to it.

A Fear Factor Challenge.

I had fun playing ULTIMATE HEDONIST – I put on some music and danced around with the donuts and wine (the ice cream – ironically, vanilla flavored – was a suggestion from sorrybeautiful). I felt like a naughty girl playing hooky from school.

 

Puke Boy showed up at 10am, and by then I was pretty loopy. We put some plastic down on the bed, and then…

one thing I remember is staring up at his intense blue eyes, his nose streaked with vomit. I looked down and saw red all over my belly and arms.

I asked Puke Boy to help me fill in the blanks, and here is what he had to say:

After we moved to the bedroom, you became a very uninhibited little sex fiend (surprise, surprise!) I was eating you out for a little while, which you REALLY seemed to enjoy. You were bucking and screaming and I almost wondered if anyone walking by would think something was wrong, but there was definitely nothing wrong.

After you were ready to get sick, you got on top and put your finger down your throat while we were having sex (yes I used a condom), and puked on me. I loved kissing your pukey mouth! Then I got behind you and we went at it doggystyle.

You vomited some more on the bed, and I lapped it up from the little pools it was collecting in on the plastic. I came and then we just collapsed on the bed, both covered in your puke.

You were definitely pretty emotional throughout this whole experience. We laid there for maybe 15 minutes, and then I helped you into the shower where we cleaned up.

Of course after you stop drinking, you continue to get a little more fucked before you get better, and now you were involuntarily puking in the shower. This really turned me on, but you were also more out of it. But I thought the worst was behind us and before I got you out, I removed the vomit-covered plastic sheet from the bed so you could lay down. I dried you off and laid you down on the bed, thinking you would just pass out. But we weren’t out of the woods yet and you said you thought you were going to puke.

I ran and got a garbage can but it was too late–you were throwing up right where you were lying on the bed. It was again quite a turn-on for me, but I’m glad we had our fun earlier as you were quite incapacitated now. You puked a few more times into the garbage can and seemed quite miserable. You were crying a lot and kept saying “I can’t do this anymore”.

I was sorry that you felt so horrible and very thankful that you did this for me. After a while you seemed to feel a little better so we went to take a shower again. We came back to the bed and I threw the sheets in the washer and scrubbed the mattress.

Then your phones started ringing. I figured someone might be worried about you and urged you to call back. I was just brushing your teeth when you said he was coming over, and was 6 minutes away. I left then, and can’t thank you enough…

The next thing I knew, it was 2pm, I was in the shower, and Matthew was staring down at me, fierce and livid.

I was more or less clean physically, but an emotional wreck. It was SOO intense. “This is what I imagine a peyote trip would be like!” I blubbered.

Sweaty and grim, he got me dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts, gathered up my things, and drove me to his house. It was hard to cope with the harsh daylight.

He gave me a bath, and then put me to bed.

I slept for three hours, and woke up feeling better, just slightly queasy. He was there by my side.

He made love to me in the dark safety of the room. I couldn’t believe it. Never had he been so disgusted with me, yet there we were, reconnecting.

I took it easy for the rest of the night, and woke up the next morning all better.

Needless to say, I’m NEVER doing anything like that again. It was HUGELY draining.

But hey, I PULLED IT OFF!

Puke pride. Uh huh.

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