A Commission
Jordan Drunken Puking

Jordan’s night was nothing short of a fever dream. Vivid, nonsensical dreams seemed to carry on forever, gently melding into one another for what felt like days. The only constant between the dreams was an ache in her stomach. Dreaming she was at a bar, she desperately tried to order a ginger ale to settle her stomach, but none of the bartenders seemed to be able to see or hear her. Another dream found her in her childhood home where Jordan’s primary focus was to find some Pepto-Bismol. Searching the bathroom drawers and cabinets turned up every imaginable medicine and grooming utensil except for the very one she was looking for.
Jordan’s body was coated in warm sweat as she stirred helplessly in her bed. She had fallen asleep in her bunny suit which was now slick and slimy against her matted fur. Last night had ushered in the year of the bunny, and Jordan thought it would have been cute to break out her bunny suit and celebrate the new year at the bar two blocks from her apartment. Flashes of the night before seemed to mesh and dissolve into her fever dreams, confusing reality with psychosis.
Then her stomach began to gurgle, manifesting itself as some unseen creature lurking in her dreams. The fear only made her sweat more until the combination of fever, sweat, stomach pain and nausea converged into a sensation that could not be ignored.
Jordan sat bolt upright in her bed and immediately covered her mouth with her paw. She stumbled to the floor as the blankets became tangled around her legs and half stumbled, half crawled to the bathroom. She hit her head on the door as she struggled to enter and slid on the throw rug in front of the toilet. The awful feeling was coming on, and it was coming on fast.
Anyone over the age of ten knows the sensation of vomit coming on. Nausea manifests like a dark cloud inside your stomach, an omen of things to come. Like everyone before her, Jordan tried to wish the sensation away, begging for it to pass. No one liked the sensation of barfing, the complete loss of control over one’s body. It was arguably worse than pissing or shitting yourself as at least your body didn’t spasm painfully, and you weren’t forced to taste your mess.
“Please no, please no, please no,” she begged the toilet, staring into the cold clean water of the bowl’s surface. She promised herself she would be a better person if she could just escape the situation she knew was coming. Maybe if she could just get to the kitchen in time and slam a red bull, surely that would help the worst hangover she had ever had in her life.
Like a soldier, Jordan stumbled and crawled across the apartment/battlefield, clinging to the walls and hoping she didn’t barf on the carpet. In the kitchen, she flings open the fridge door and grabs a sugar-free red bull. Fighting with the tab, she cracks it open and drinks deeply. The pleasant, sweet/bitter taste relieves the dry bile flavor in her mouth. For a moment she thinks she is safe as the carbonation relieves indigestion in her stomach. She can feel the drink drizzle down her throat like a cleansing rain. Then thunder hits.
Jordan moves faster than she has ever moved in her life, almost knocking her bedroom door off the hinges as she tumbles into the bathroom and violently barfs into the toilet. Like every person who has ever lived, Jordan has barfed before, but it was many years ago and also one of the worst experiences of her life. It had been the morning after Halloween, after eating far too much candy. Her mother had thought she was trying to get out of school until Jordan barfed a deluge of rainbow pukes onto her own bed.
That was barely compared to what was happening now. The force was violent, more powerful than a punch or orgasm. Her whole body contorted to expel last night’s mess. Tears escaped from her eyes, and a little squirt of piss escaped her girl dick, soaking into her fur. The sensation was an abominable, warm, acidic barf escaping her mouth like a rioting train leaving a tunnel and splashing into the toilet, getting cold toilet water to splash her face. The taste was unmistakable and the only reason she absolutely refused to eat tomato soup.
She clung to the toilet bowl like a sailor clinging to floating wreckage and prayed this was done. Her body felt like it had been in a fight. The knot in her stomach released a little, but she still felt like she had been hit by a truck. Her head throbbed as well as her little girl cock. Any other time she would have hurried to masturbate, but this was the worst she had ever felt. It did not feel like her legs would obey her if she tried to stand, so she simply clung to the toilet bowl. The warm sweat coating her body had now turned chilly against her hide.
Just when she thought she could go back to bed, her body heaved, and another blast of puke escaped her mouth loud and violently, this time spraying warm, burning bile through her nose. Before Jordan could even cry from how miserable she was, another blast escaped, making her body lift off the floor from the spasm. Now she was sobbing knowing she had no control over the situation. She tried to flush her disgusting mess, but the bowl only filled with more water. Too scared to return to bed, she remained near the toilet just in case.
In her hangover daze, she took a mental note of everything she had consumed last night in order to solve the mystery of how her body and toilet were murdered. Her favorite drink was anything mixed with vodka: vodka cranberry, screwdriver, vodka with coke, and lime. Maybe she had overdone it last night, but she had spaced her drinks with plenty of snacks. Starting with pretzels and peanuts, she then ordered a soft pretzel with cheese, then later after more drinks she ordered a burger, then when she was too drunk to control herself she ordered nachos? She could not have made a worse decision. But then she thought about how she had even gotten home last night.
Trying to sort her drunk memories was like trying to read a paperback novel that had fallen into the pool. She had called Eagle Lift for a ride home, but then stopped at Taco Bell? Oh god...this was going to be a long day.
Jordan’s phone chimed in the bedroom letting her know she received a message, but it was simply too risky to leave the toilet. Probably one of her friends checking on her. She didn’t want to risk having to scrub the carpet or wash the sheets. As long as she clung to the toilet, she was safe.
She flushed again forgetting it wouldn’t go down, and now the puke was terrifyingly close to escaping the rim. This was the absolute worst day of her life. It would be a long time before she ever had another drink. She would never forget this day.
Just when she thought she was safe, Jordan heaved again, puking out even more of her guts. Her girl cock strained against her outfit, and her nipples went painfully hard as her whole body spasmed uncontrollably. Then it spasmed again, and again, then once more just to destroy her. Jordan sobbed aloud wishing this nightmare would be over. Her whole body started to shake, and just the taste of the puke made her want to puke more. The disgusting slurry floated on the surface of the toilet like the swamps of Dagobah. Jordan touched her chin and found tiny chunks of puke clinging to her fur, and bile had gone down the front of her body into her cleavage.
In tears, she crawled back to bed and passed out from exhaustion. Hopefully when she woke up, this would all be over. When Jordan awoke again, it was dark out. She had slept through the entire day and would now be up all night against her will. Before she could text her friends and let her know she made it home okay, she had the overwhelming urge to pee. Jordan hurried to the bathroom as she stripped off her costume and wanted to scream when she found her toilet overflowing with puke. It looked like an evil witch’s cauldron as streaks of orange puke dripped down the sides and stained the bowl. 
Now in the light of the bathroom, Jordan saw the front of her chest had bee stained with puke as well as her knee caps from kneeling it. Still, she desperately needed to pee and got out the plunger to fix the toilet. Head throbbing, she pushed the plunger into the puke and almost gagged as a noxious bubble floated to the top of the toilet bowl and popped. Jordan covered her mouth as fear tears escaped. She couldn’t go through this again, not twice in the same day. It wasn’t fair. She had already suffered enough.
Careful not to make a mess, Jordan gently plunged the toilet, causing more puke to spill out and her stomach to fill with nausea. She tried not to look as she works on the toilet, but she can still hear the slop hit the bathroom tiles, and the smell is a sour nightmare like spoiled tomato soup. She just wants to flush the toilet and be done with it but knows it will only create more of a mess.
She continues to work the plunger until another bubble of bile escapes and pops. The smell is too much. Jordan falls to her knees and barfs into the toilet filled with cold vomit. This close to the surface, the awful sour smell fills her sensitive nose and makes her barf more. She is now full of sobbing, re-entering the nightmare she thought she escaped. Again her body spasms painfully, giving her hard nipples, a tiny erection, and a groin cramp. Spasm after spasm fights to escape as Jordan clings to the slimy rim of the toilet bowl.
Desperate to escape the swamp, she flushes again, except now the puke spills out onto the floor, forcing her to kneel in cold, wet barf. She has nowhere to rest and must hold herself upright to keep her head from the mess. Desperate, with all her inhibitions destroyed long ago, Jordan reaches her paw into the mountain of puke in an attempt to free the clog. The sensation is disgusting. It’s so thick and chunky. Her arm is stained up to the shoulder as she reaches deeper. She wonders if she’ll ever get the smell out of her fur. But she just needs this to end.
Her paw is up the drain but still hasn’t found anything. She goes deeper into the mess to truly clean it, so she must submerge her face to reach the clog. She must now hold her breath to not inhale her own puke. This is the absolute worst moment of her life, and she would rather die than be put through this again. The tip of her paw feels something firm. She lets half her head sink into the bowl, splashing more puke onto the tile, she pushes the clog loose, and the bowl rapidly drains. She flushes to fill it with clean water. The bowl is relatively clean, but the floor is covered in a small lake of puke and toilet water, and the entire top half of her body is soaked through in puke.
Jordan couldn’t contain herself. The weird building in her gut, that knot and clutch had seemed to disappear. Her stomach wasn’t about to empty itself, if such was possible, because of some internal force or demonic possession. Taco Bell had long since become a non-issue. Instead, her sordid matted disgusting filthy fur began to heave and contort and twist and spasm because of the circumstances she found herself in. 
The toilet was flushed, it was… clean, somewhat. But not clean, clean. Her bathroom floor was a mess. The toilet bowl, the seat, everywhere really. Her arm. Face. The smell, the taste of it, everything. It was a part of her core now. All senses were affected – worse? Mentally speaking, she was deeply offended and ashamed. All these combined and her stomach dipped inward and another rolling spasm of throw up jettisoned from her mouth. 
She began to cry then. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It wouldn’t stop. She’d thrown up so much that her tummy burned and aches from the excruciating exercise, like she was at the gym doing planks or sit-ups or something. Her fur wasn’t just matted with sludgy bile, but a nice little glimmer of perspiration. 
Jordan found herself trying to crawl to the toilet yet again, but her paws just couldn’t wrap around the lid without effort she couldn’t provide. And she slipped… and fell. 
She lay on the ground, her swamp of bile, drinks, and whatever the fuck else she’d thrown up, all around her. Dirty toilet water adding to the viscous slurry. She cried even more, cried and threw up. And when she thought it was over, the very surroundings that she’d created, her very own personal hell, assaulted her yet again to throw up. 
Eventually, she had nothing left. It was all over her, the bathroom, everywhere. The tinge of uncomfortable spasms, however, never truly ended even if nothing came out. 
She passed out … 
Surely, she wouldn’t wake up, stomach clenched, laying in her own mess, and have another fit of disgusting uncontrollable throwing up.