BURP-RETCH-BARF

Description: the acrylic bowl sat quietly between her thick, parted thighs. it was crystal clear smooth, glossy, waiting.   her belly loomed above it, full and trembling, tight with pressure. she didn’t speak. didn’t move, except to guide her body forward, mouth hovering over the rim.   her lips parted.   huurrk—splash. the first wave landed heavily, a thick, creamy mess coating the bottom. it spread, warm and dense. her gut contracted again.   guurrrlllghh—splat. another layer. this one darker, chunkier, flecked with bits from earlier meals. the sounds echoed inside the bowl wet, sloppy, unapologetic.   her body rocked slightly with each surge. her soft middle folded inward as she heaved, emptying herself slowly, rhythmically. the bowl accepted it all each string, each splatter, each splash.   she didn’t stop to breathe.   huuullllgh—blrrrrrphhh. more came. frothy now. acidic. her belly was softening. where it once bulged, it now hung loose, relieved, contracting after every retch.   the bowl filled in layers light on the bottom, then darker swirls, then pale foam on top. a stratified mess of everything she had taken in, now laid bare.   she wiped her mouth lazily. another heave. another hot layer.   the bowl was nearly full. her belly sagged empty.   and still just a little more.   hrrurrrr — a final ribbon of sickness curled out of her mouth and joined the rest, floating gently, resting on top like a final offering.