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Black Out

Monday, June 19, 2017

A burning sensation rose through his gullet, causing him to roll to the side and vomit out the previous night’s meal and several dozen drinks. The hangover and dry mouth, along with the acrid taste of bile in his mouth were the only things getting him from moving away from his couch instead of just falling back asleep. Looking around, he saw the pink haired girl he’d picked up last night passed out, naked, on the floor.

 

“Heh,” he smiled to himself. “At least I got some…”

 

He stumbled from the living room and into the kitchen, quickly turning on the faucet to take a few gulps of cold, clear water to quench his thirst. Reaching for the bottle of aspirin he kept next to the sink (he often went partying and passed out on his couch more often than he’d like to admit), he unscrewed the cap and shoo out three pills, which he immediately swallowed. Checking himself over, he decided that he needed to get a shower, as he had semi dried vomit on his bare shoulder, and a pounding headache that made him forget to care about being naked.

 

Walking over to the sleeping girl (Katy?) he toed her gently, trying to wake her up softly. “Hey, rise and shine.” He said with a smile. The sight of her gymnasts body was putting him on the road to becoming excited once more, though his hangover was doing a great job slowing that down.

 

She rolled over and looked up at him with her green eyes, blinking twice before smiling. “Good morning,” she said with a purr.

 

“Good morning to you too,” He smiled lecherously down at her. “I’m going to take a quick shower, do you know how to make mimosas?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Well, feel free to make yourself one to fight the hangover, the kitchen is open for whatever you want. There’s aspirin on the counter and beers in the fridge.”

 

“What if I want to join you in the shower?” She asked a sensual tone to her voice.

 

He rubbed the back of his head. “We have plenty of time doing that later, just not right now. I feel like hell and back.”

 

“Oh? What’s wrong?” She asked, pushing herself up to her hands and knees.

 

“Pounding headache, incredible heartburn and thirsty beyond reason.” He grunted, backing away as she reached up for his genitals.

 

“I can make it better,” she said.

 

“Just make yourself a mimosa and I’ll be down in a minute, alright?” He said, not wanted to snap at the obviously horny girl.

 

“Alright,” she chirped, climbing to her feet and sashaying into the kitchen, opening the pantry door in search of something to eat.

 

He just shook his head and headed towards the stairs, fighting the urge to go back there and bend her over… he felt like nine miles of bad road and needed a shower at the very least before he would be up for fooling around.

 

Climbing the stairs, he coughed as the burning sensation came back, forcing him to clear his throat as the bile singed his esophagus. Wiping his nose, he rounded the corner and opened up the bathroom door, stepping inside. He quickly turned the shower on, twisting the nobs to have a nice warm shower. Filling up a small brown cup with water, he drank a little to fight the burning in his chest.

 

It wasn’t really going away, so he just slipped into the shower and reached for a bottle of shampoo, savoring the cascading warmth rolling down his skin. Taking a loofah, he quickly drizzled it with some body wash before cleaning himself up, scrubbing away at his vomit encrusted shoulder and underarms, as well as his nether regions. Taking the shampoo, he cleaned his hair as quickly as he could, scrubbing his scalp with the floral scented shower gel as he fought to keep his stomach settled. Now it was tossing and turning, churning within his gut.

 

Suddenly, he bent down and unleashed a violent torrent of vomit into the shower, hard enough that the force closed his eyes as he vomited. Opening them after a few seconds, he saw that the chunky remains of something was slowly being washed down the drain, along with a lot of red, which was stringy and pulpy.

 

“That doesn’t look good…” He muttered, looking down at his hands, which were shaking. Head throbbing, half covered in lathered shampoo, he stumbled out of the shower, slipping on some suds. Hoping to break his fall, he grabbed at the shower curtain, popping it ring-by-ring from the pole stuck between the walls of the shower stall, slowing his fall by a few micros seconds. Landing hard on the linoleum of the bathroom, he coughed up a chunky sliver of bloody meat, his head beginning to go from a mild headache to pounding in a matter of seconds.

 

The door opened, revealing Katy, once again dressed in her red top and black spandex. She looked down at him, an odd smile on her face, mimosa in hand.

 

“Help me… call an ambulance girl, something’s wrong with me!” He said from his fetal position on the floor, blood pooling in his mouth as the burning sensation moved from the center of his chest up.

 

She took a careful sip of her mimosa before setting it down on the counter. Leaning down, she grabbed his arms and drug him from the bathroom onto the carpet of the landing of the second floor. Cold and wet and dirty, half covered in suds and blood, he didn’t understand what she was doing.

 

“Girl, what are you doing? Help me!” He said again, flinching as his body tremored with pain, pressure building in his throat.

 

 “That’s your mistake,” she said, standing up over him. “Thinking I’m a girl.”

 

“Wha-ugh!” He said, his throat expanding as something wriggled into his esophagus, crawling up his throat however slowly.

 

“Yeah, I’m a male of my species. What your experiencing is labor, so just try to relax and lie back. You already took painkillers, which is good.” It said as it stood over him, kneeling down to stare him in the eyes. “It’s going to come out through your mouth and has spent the last eight hours gestating in your stomach, where it traveled from your genitals after we had awkward sex last night. You weren’t that very good, by the way.”

 

He tried to reply, but whatever was crawling out of his throat was doing so slowly, suffocating him in the process.

 

“I guess I should have warned you to get a deep breath, but honestly I didn’t know which end it was going to come out of. I guess the little tyke was pointed up.” It said with a smile.

 

He tried to push himself up, but the stiff state his neck was in, forcing his head to face one way as his jaw slowly enlarged and dislocated, blood dribbling out of it as whatever it was wriggled back and forth, waves of nausea passing over him in the process. With a final retching, he vomited out the foot and a half long slug, along with blood and bile and chunks of his stomach. The creature flapped in the pool of fluid, crying out plaintively to be rescued from its current state. Katy stepped forward with a towel and scooped up the slug, caressing it as four tendrils raised from its face to grasp around her hand.

 

“Aww… it’s a little girl.” Katy said, looking down at him with a smile. “It has your skin tone.”

 

Jaw dislocated and oozing fluid, he just curled into a ball and welcomed the numbing cold prickling at his limbs, slowly ebbing up his arms and legs as death moved in to claim him. He couldn’t feel any pain any longer, and his thoughts were jumbled. This is what shock feels like, he thought bitterly as Katy walked away from him, downstairs. He could hear her, distantly, picking up some keys and leaving the house, just as the spreading cold reached his torso and he blacked out for the last time.

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