Puke Mouth

It was two in the morning when I got his text. It was sloppy with tons of typos, but read “hope u r ready to serve your full purpose.” I instantly knew what this meant. I had served as his toilet for months now, knowing he planned on feeding me anything you would feed a toilet. Learning how to eat his shit seems like it was years ago. Since then I’ve learned how to take his firm logs and liquid diahrrea. Both were more than challenging but he accepted nothing less than the entire contents to be swallowed. Of course he feeds me his piss as well. He’ll sit on the rimseat (aptly named his throne) and trims his pube hair right into my mouth. It has a wiry taste and is soon accompanied by the sound of his nails being clipped and deposited on top. He once trimmed his beautiful beard into my mouth. I tried to tell him that was a sinks job but that just got me a hard smack across the face. He once had a horrible cold and came over to shoot his running nose right into my mouth. I was then made to clean each of his nostrils. It’s the closest we’ve ever been to kissing.

After everything I’ve ingested, I still had a pit in my stomach and waited nervously on the floor for his arrival.

He walks in, or stumbles in is more accurate. I never lock my doors in case I am needed.

Even when he’s beyond shitfaced he is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Beautiful green eyes. He’s musclular and hairy. He works out 5 days a week and always showers at my place after fully using me. He works his ass more than any other part. He always tells me to thank him for getting to make out with his muscle hole.

We sometimes talk but more often than not he prefers silence.

He looks down. “Look at you all ready for me” He flashes his evil grin.

He’s barely coherent but explains his night. He was out with his boyfriend and some friends celebrating his boyfriends birthday. I’ve gone to the bars he hangs out at. I once said hi while he was ordering drinks, but he ignored my words and returned to his friends. I guess it’s understandable. The next day I received a black eye and was made to kiss his fist.

He bends down. “Arent you so lucky? You’re finally fulfilling your full purpose.”  

He continues. “Are you excited?”

I lie.

He asks if theres anymore beer in the fridge. He often likes to drink while he eats during lunch break and I eat his hole.

He comes back with not only a beer but my bottle of tequila. He sits down next to my body on the floor. Something he rarely does. Amazing to my eyes he downs three shots without any problems. He wobbles back and forth.

“Are you ready?” He mutters. “Open wide”

Im reluctant but his mouth is coming straight for my own.

He makes the loudest sound as he vomits straight into my own mouth. It continues and continues.

Snot and entrails linger between our mouths.

“Fuck!” he says. “I really needed that”. He laughs.

Im swallowing. The taste is like nothing else I’ve experienced. It’s the first day of eating his shit all over again, but worse. I bite into different chunks as I swallow.

“Does it taste good? Me and my boyfriend went to this fancy Michelin restareaunt and I had the Prime Rib. I guess eating my handmedowns is just as good, right?” He quickly looks around the room. “Im going to guess it’s the closest you’ll get to a fancy dinner”

He starts to gag again before curling over and shooting right down my throat. My eyes water and it’s so unbearable that I contemplate getting up and stopping this. I don’t though, I don’t want him to think im not useful.

I just open up and accept. It goes back to being like im not there.

He eventully calms down. He unzips his pants and pulls out his 8 inch thick cock. He jerks it hard for a minute before shooting right down my throat. I know better than to touch his dick with my tongue. This is rare and I show my appreciation.

He gathers himself.

“Ill see you in the morning. Ill be needing to take a massive dump. I really do appreciate the service you provide. Theres no other object like you. You’re a pathetic loser that I love to use”

He spits in my mouth and leaves.

Months go by with my usual service before I receive the text “sick with the flu. Either you take care of me or you wont see me for a month”. I wasn’t certain what this meant but I couldn’t go a month without serving a purpose.

He arrives looking horribly ill. He makes himself comfy in my bed and I soon learn that I am made to be his bedpan for this duration. I fear the healthiness of this but I stupidly accep regardless.

I ended up getting the flu but even when I was bed ridden, he expected me to be able to accept his waste and keep it completely down. If I didn’t I would never see him again