One Good Kink Deserves Another


She had never played the dominatrix before, and barely knew how to go 
about it. She had her own kinks, far stranger than simple BDSM. He, on 
the other hand, was submissive by nature, and seemed to especially 
like being ordered to do humiliating things. This had given her an 
idea for how they might both satisfy their fetishistic desires at the 
same time.

She handed him a two-liter bottle of water. Assuming a commanding tone 
of voice that made her feel faintly ridiculous, she ordered him, 
"Drink it - the whole thing, as quickly as you can. Make sure you 
finish it, even if you have to force it down." He took it and began to 
comply, feeling more and more puzzled as she stripped off her clothes 
and went into the bathroom.

"Come here," she called to him, and he obeyed, still drinking from the 
bottle of water. His puzzlement increased when he saw that she was 
lying, nude, in the empty bathtub. "I told you to finish that water," 
she said in what she hoped was a severe manner. He gulped it down more 
quickly, obviously having trouble swallowing the last few mouthfuls.

"Come over here, and kneel by the tub!" As he did so, she pressed her 
hand against his midsection. With the bloated feeling from all the 
water he'd just swallowed, the pressure of her hand made him feel 
somewhat sick to his stomach. She felt the sloshing in his distended 
belly, smiled, and pressed a bit harder before removing her hand.

"Does that make you feel as if you want to throw up?"

"Er... yes, a little bit..."

"Good. Throw up on me!"

"What?"

"I said, throw up on me! Now!"

"But I don't feel *that* sick..."

"Then stick your finger down your throat and *make* yourself throw 
up!"

He leaned over her naked body and obediently put his finger down his 
throat. He gagged slightly, and instinctively pulled his hand out of 
his mouth. 

"No, you have to *keep* your finger down your throat - don't take it 
out until you start to really throw up, not just that pitiful gagging! 
Do I have to do it for you - do I have to put MY finger down your 
throat?"

He was confused, but he wanted to obey her. He put his fingers into 
his mouth again, and started stimulating his gag reflex. His mouth 
filled with slimy saliva, and he spat it onto her, but he 
unconsciously began to take his hand away again. "No! Keep doing 
that!" she said, and grabbed his elbow to keep him from moving his 
hand. With her other hand, she squeezed his belly again.

It was difficult at first to keep gagging himself, and he felt as if 
he couldn't breathe, but an order was an order. He gagged harder and 
harder, and spat out a few more mouthfuls of liquid, gasping for air 
in between spits. The gagging turned to deeper, more serious retching, 
and again he almost stopped... but her hand was on his arm, holding it 
there. She pressed his stomach again, timing it to coincide with a 
retch, and he felt some of the water rise up in his throat.

The next retch brought up a small amount of liquid, which poured out 
of his mouth, down his arm, and dripped onto her naked breasts. She 
moaned, and cried "More! You can do better than that!" The taste and 
feel of bile in his throat made him feel sicker, and he heaved deeply 
and threw up a modest wave of vomit, all over her naked chest.

"Yes! More!" she demanded, and he obligingly threw up another stream 
of puke onto her. She moaned again, and began to rub herself with his 
spew. In between spasms of regurgitation, he saw that her nipples were 
stiff, and realized that she was writhing with sexual excitement. This 
gave him an idea, and he moved his head slightly so that the next 
volley of vomit landed on her crotch. She began to masturbate with it, 
sobbing faintly.

"Do that again!" she ordered him, but his stomach was nearly empty 
now. He tickled his gag reflex again and tried to force up a little 
more, but only a small amount came up this time - he made sure it fell 
on her pubes, as close to puking directly into her cunt as he could 
get from his rather awkward position. He dry-heaved painfully a couple 
of times, but even in her aroused state, she could tell that he had 
nothing left to throw up.

"Gods, don't leave me like this!" she whimpered, frantically smearing 
his vomit around on her naked body. Her tone was more pleading than 
commanding, now. She grabbed his hand - the same hand he had gagged 
himself with, still dripping with bile - and pulled it towards her 
crotch. At the same time, she sat up in the tub and turned to face 
him, thrusting her vomit-streaked tits towards his mouth.

This game may have started out as something new and confusing, but 
here was something he knew very well how to do. He began to finger her 
clit, expertly adjusting the pressure and rhythm to match the 
involuntary thrusting of her hips. Hesitantly, he sucked on her 
nipple, revolted by the taste and smell of his own stomach contents, 
but knowing in his submissive heart that his revulsion was making her 
even more aroused. She gasped, and he slipped two fingers into her 
vagina - the same two fingers that had been down his throat. The 
combination of his spew and her sexual juices was wetter and 
slipperier than anything he could remember from all of his own diverse 
sexual experiences, and in spite of everything, he was beginning to 
get somewhat aroused himself.

With his fingers inside her and his thumb on her clit, he nibbled a 
bit harder on her nipple, and she suddenly came, making a small high-
pitched sound in the back of her throat as her body arched against his 
hand. He did not let up when he felt her orgasm; he kept up the 
stimulation, forcing her to keep coming and coming until her body 
could not convulse any more, and she slid back into the bathtub, 
gasping for breath and nearly unconscious.

He looked around for the washcloth, and turned on the water, adjusting 
it to a comfortable heat, and began to very gently clean the vomit 
from her body. She was not expecting this, and she sighed with 
pleasure, and smiled at him, then lay back and let him finish washing 
her. By the time he was done, she had recovered her breath, and as he 
helped her out of the tub she said, "You've earned a reward for that! 
What kind of pleasure can I give *you* now?"