Jordan is going through some terrible horrible throwing-up spells brought on by pregnancy.
Jordan sat patiently in the waiting room with her hands folded on her knees. The local university was doing another round of medical trials and was searching for participants to help them with their studies. This was a pretty common occurrence on campus. Most of the participants were college students, but the studies and trials were also open to the general public, basically anyone who wanted to aid in medical research and/or needed to make a quick buck.
Jordan was part of the latter. Her minimum wage job barely covered the bills, and her friends had recommended she head down to the university to see if any medical trials were starting. A couple of her friends had actually gone through with some of the studies and made a cool grand for their participation. A thousand dollars would surely go a long in her situation. There were side effects to worry about of course, but her friends had reported only mild headaches and nausea which only lasted about a week.
Most of the trials were new medicines being developed by the pharmacology department at the college. But sometimes you would end up in some kind of psychological study which could involve just about anything and could last for months. And still, some people just filled out a long questionnaire and left with $200.
Fortunately for Jordan, this was another medical trial, and it all but guaranteed she would be paid well…if she was an appropriate candidate. They couldn’t give experimental drugs to just anyone because of possible dangerous complications, so a full physical and medical history was required.
“You can come back now,” A man in the doorway next to the reception desk gestured for Jordan to follow him. He was a handsome tiger in a long white lab coat and slacks, wearing glasses and reading a clipboard in his paw.
“It seems you haven’t provided a medical history,” the tiger said as he led them down a sterile hallway with white walls.
“Yeah…couldn’t really afford to see a doctor after I aged out of my mom’s insurance. Even then the copay was pretty high.”
“Well, we’ll have to give you a full physical including blood work, urine sample, and stool sample to make sure you’re healthy enough to begin the trial.”
“I, uh, okay. You have like a cup you want me to pee in or…?”
“You’ll collect your samples at home and use the mailing envelopes we provide you to return them to the university, but for now we can record a full physical and collect the needed blood samples.”
Jordan was led to an exam room that closely resembled an office except for the window looking down at the university campus and an exam table in the corner. The tiger gestured for her to sit on the examination table and hesitated in the doorway.
“The doctor will see you in a moment. Please remove your clothes.” The tiger closed the door, and that was the last Jordan ever saw of him. She hadn’t even gotten his name. As she hesitated to remove her camisole, she thought how this was just like the start of a horror movie, that they were about to do crazy experiments on her like switch her brain with a criminal or give her experimental superpowers. Superpowers would be kinda’ cool actually, but maybe not swapping brains with someone who litters.
Jordan looked towards the window and pulled the curtain all the way across before disrobing. Taking off her hoodie was no big deal, but removing her bra and camisole gave her hesitation. But then again this was big money, and she didn’t want to come off as difficult. Who knew what metric they used to actually pick candidates?
She took a deep breath and unclasped her bra then slipped out of her tiny denim shorts and panties to stand bare-naked in the exam room. It might have been the first time she was ever naked outside of her apartment or parent’s home. Jordan appreciated her ability to remain thin, but she wouldn’t mind being a bit curvier. Her chest was nearly flat, and her hips and butt resembled a boy’s. She had started puberty over 12 years ago, and it felt like puberty had just given up after the first week.
The crazy idea came to her to masturbate while waiting, but then the door handle turned and she hopped onto the cold exam table which chilled her flat butt and made her shiver. The doctor who entered was a handsome dark panther about her age with piercing yellow eyes. Jordan flushed to have his eyes on her naked body. He was cradling an open laptop on his arm before he looked up and down her naked body.
“Oh…you were supposed to put on the hospital gown when you got changed,” the doctor said matter-of-factly, his eyes moving to a folded gown by the medical cabinets. Jordan cringed hard at her mistake. He probably thought she was trying to come onto him or something.
“It doesn’t matter really. I’ll need to do a complete physical exam and then have the technician draw some blood. Please stand up straight so I can examine you.”
Jordan felt a mild sexual thrill having this handsome doctor tell her what to do until he placed the cold stethoscope on her chest which instantly made her nipples hard. He placed it on several more locations across her chest, upper back, and on her stomach, dangerously close to her pubic mound. If he decided to molest her, she wasn’t sure she would resist, but the doctor remained professional.
“Any history of respiratory problems?” he asked, typing on his laptop.
“I used to smoke, but it got too expensive.”
“Former smoker…Any history of cancers or cardiovascular illness?”
“No.”
“Are you currently or have you ever been pregnant?”
“Heh, no, thankfully.”
“Are you currently sexually active?”
“Ehhh, it’s been a while if you know what I mean.”
“Not currently sexually active….” the doctor said to himself as he typed. He returned to her and without warning began a breast exam. It was so sudden and unexpected that it made Jordan push her knees together in sexual excitement. His paws were a bit rough, and her breasts were small and sensitive. He squeezed them hard and than rubbed them in circles, searching for anything suspicious but found nothing before returning to his laptop.
“Please have a seat on the exam table then lay back.”
Jordan did as she was asked. The doctor began operating the otherwise unassuming exam table like it was a machine, and two stirrups unfolded from the sides like robot arms. He secured her hooves in the stirrups, having a front-row seat to her exposed pussy. Jordan bit down on her nails as the doctor examined her most tender and private area. The pads on his paws were rough, tracing her vulva before making notes on his laptop.
“No external signs of infection…this is going to be cold.”
“What?” Jordan asked just as a frozen phallus was inserted in her, at least that’s what it felt like. She gasped out loud as the cold penetrated her and then stretched her tender hole. She had never had a pelvic exam before, even though her mother had insisted on it multiple times.
“No signs of scarring or abrasion. I’m going to perform a pap smear. You’ll feel a poke in your abdomen.”
Jordan gasped again as it felt like a tiny punch was thrust into her. The doctor removed whatever was spreading her vagina and then helped her hooves out of the stirrups.
“You were very cooperative,” the doctor said as he secured his exam tools and typed more notes on his computer. She wanted to be more than cooperative, but he didn’t seem like the kind of doctor who had sex with his patients…even though she wasn’t technically his patient.
“I’ll show you to the lab where you’ll have your blood drawn. Do you have any history of anemia, bleeding, or bruising?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” she answered, unable to meet his eyes as she got dressed. The doctor led her further down the hall and gestured to a sterile room with a wrap-around counter, tons of medical equipment, as well as many vials and beakers with various fluids in them. A toucan wearing a surgical mask slid across the room on a wheeled stool and then typed something on the doctor’s laptop before he nodded and left. Three vials of blood were taken without incident, and the toucan gave her a bag with Tupperware in it to collect the other samples at home.
Jordan returned home not long after having taken a half day at work to come down to the university. It was a strange sensation being home when she would usually be at the restaurant. That evening she managed to collect her samples with a small effort, and the next morning she brought them to the post office in a mailer envelope. The bear at the post office counter had no idea he was technically handling her poo.
For five days, Jordan heard nothing from the university. It was possible she wasn’t a suitable candidate for whatever the study was. They hadn’t told her what the study was for when she was there, but when her friends did the medical trials, it was mostly just taking a medication at home and calling in any side effects. Sometimes you would just get a sugar pill because you were in the control group, but you weren’t allowed to know you were in the control group because it could alter the results of the study.
Jordan had just about given up on the idea when she received an automated text one night from the university saying she had been selected for the program and would need to arrive at 8 AM the next morning. There was a mixture of excitement and worry in her chest as she tried to sleep that night. The money would be wonderful, but who could know what the medical trial would entail? Maybe they were testing out a new kind of breast implant? That wouldn’t be the worst thing considering her unimpressive chest. Maybe she would finally get some much-needed sexual attention.
Jordan made sure to arrive early the next morning. This time she was immediately brought back to an exam room by the same tiger who had greeted her last time.
“As you know, you have been selected to participate in our new medical trial,” the tiger said, fussing with a small stack of papers in his paws. Jordan nodded with excitement.
“I need you to review the details of the case and all the waivers. The university is not liable for any illness or injury sustained while participating in the trial, but you will receive comprehensive healthcare for the duration of the trial. You will be required to see a general practitioner on a weekly basis for regular checkups and to report any side effects to the university.”
“Uh, what exactly are we doing? Is this some kind of new hair loss drug or something?” Jordan asked.
“Please read this packet, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask.” The tiger in the lab coat handed Jordan a packet of about 30 papers with writing on both sides. Her eyes felt like they were spinning in her head as she did her best to read each page. Jordan wasn’t much of a reader—high school had destroyed any love of reading she once had. She tried the best she could, something about headaches, nausea, placebos, doctor’s visits, symptoms, worms? vaginal exams, then a list of test results in the back. She tried her best to stay focused, but it was simply too much to comprehend. The test results caught her eye though. Healthy levels of electrolytes, hormones, and cholesterol. No cervical cancer, apparently she had peak fertility. She guessed that was good.
The last page was some agreement written in legalese which was even harder to decipher than the previous pages. At the bottom, a tiny post-it in the shape of an arrow told her where to print and sign her name.
“Do you have any questions before you sign?” The tiger asked, holding a pen out to her. Jordan wanted to ask point blank what this study was about, but she didn’t want to feel stupid when the answer was literally in her hands. How bad could it be? Jordan took the pen and signed the papers before handing them back to the tiger.
“Good. Here is your check along with the hotline to call and report any symptoms. You can call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Make sure to give your case number which I have written on the card. This card has your doctor’s name and address. Be sure not to miss a single appointment.”
Jordan’s heart jumped when the tiger handed her the business cards and check. She nearly fainted when she saw the check was for THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS!
Her heart was thundering. It was the most money she had ever seen in her life, and it was all hers. She was absolutely going to celebrate with her friends tonight.
“The doctor will be in in a moment. Please undress,” the tiger said before leaving and closing the door. Jordan was half tempted to get naked for him again and hoped he got the hint, but it could be really embarrassing if he ignored her again. Playing it safe, she undressed and put on the hospital gown. She wasn’t sure why the doctor was coming. Maybe there was some protocol that a doctor had to hand her the drugs specifically for legal reasons.
Instead of the handsome panther, a skittish iguana scurried in, eyes darting about. In his hand was a small plastic container, a little bigger than a pill bottle. His eyes darted up to her, then the bottle, then the exam table, back to her, and then back to the bottle. She watched him expectantly. Without a word, he gestured to the exam table, and Jordan sat down.
With quick, nervous hands, he pushed her back flat and pulled out the stirrups. Guess it was another exam or maybe the medication had to be inserted vaginally. The doctors (she hoped he was a doctor and not some weirdo who stumbled in off the street and snatched a lab coat) were quick, gently spreading her open as she waited nervously. She felt something go inside her like a cold finger, then before she knew it, it was over. After sitting up, she watched the iguana expectantly.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it,” he hissed, his tongue darting out as he sounded the “s”. He looked around expectantly then darted from the room. Jordan prayed that was an actual doctor. She waited a moment to see if anyone else came, but when no one did, she got dressed and left. At least today she could return to work after getting out of the university so early.
Over the next week, everything started to change in Jordan’s life. For someone who only likes to nibble and snack since puberty, she found herself developing quite an appetite. A donut or a bagel would usually last her well into the evening, but she found herself buying a half dozen or even a full dozen and keeping them to herself. Some peanut butter and celery after work turned into watching Netflix with the full jar in her lap and a spoon. At least she had awareness enough to know this was probably caused by whatever medicine she was on, probably some UTI hormone device her friends had suggested, and she dutifully reported her new appetite to the hotline.
The new appetite seemed problematic for any new medicine being developed, but then she reasoned that maybe someone on chemo could use something that made them hungry. On top of that, despite bingeing on delicious food every day, she never got fat. Her hips started to full out, but in a comfortable way, and her chest finally started to develop after 13 tears of looking like a 13-year-old. She nearly shouted for joy when she realized she needed to buy a new bra to accommodate her bouncy new bosoms.
Not only that, she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate her new curviness, and the university was paying. And on top of her new figure, guys were finally starting to notice her. It was a strange feeling finally be desirable after a lifetime of being ignored. Eating anything she wanted, becoming sexier, it was truly a miracle drug.
Then about ten days into the medical trial, everything went horribly wrong. It started with acrid burps that smelled worse than the worst farts and would clear a room. It got so bad her boss had sent her home to sort things out because no one wanted to eat in a restaurant that smelled like an open sewer main.
Her doctor at the time performed an exam and said there was technically nothing wrong with her, but maybe she should try antacids. The antacids did nothing. The burping got worst until the point she was gagging and retching. Feeling the flu, or at least flu-like symptoms coming on, she bought a bunch of ramen, crackers, ginger ale, and sports drink, and battened down the hatches in her apartment, finding comfort in knowing she had some spare cash to live on. The first thing she did when she got home was called the university and find out how long the trial was supposed to last.
“Until the eggs mature, usually six to eight weeks,” the woman on the phone said.
“Eggs?” Jordan asked, confused.
“The emerald equine eggs in your uterus. They need a live equine host to mature. You see, they have added their digestive juices to your own and are consuming part of your nutrients, this accounts for your increased hunger and gastrointestinal distress. This is all expected, so there is no need to worry.”
“What! I can’t go to work because of these eggs! I need them out!” Jordan shouted, realizing something was growing inside her. When she grabbed her aching stomach, she noticed a faint glow in the dim light of her apartment.
“That’s impossible I am afraid. The emerald equine worm is an endangered species. Any attempt to remove them now would cause termination of the subject, and any attempt on your own part would be a federal crime. I’m afraid you’re stuck with them.”
Jordan was dumbstruck. There was another lifeform growing inside her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The anxiety had her sprinting for the sink where she barfed up the foulest-tasting substance she had ever experienced. It was worst than that fermented fish her grandfather would bring from the old country. It tasted like shit smelled and burned the tip of her tongue as well as her eyes. The fumes went up her snout and burned her nostrils, making her eyes water. She grabbed a paper towel and wiped her mouth, then rinsed out the sink.
After explaining to her boss on the phone what was happening, he was gracious enough to hold her job for her. Then Jordan called her friends and explained the situation. Now all she had to do was wait it out.
The next day was spent throwing herself around the apartment, bingeing on whatever food she could find, and then taking the chance she might barf it up. Each time she purged was a miserable experience. It wasn’t the simple acidic, tomato soup taste of normal barf which she had experienced after drinking too much. This was like a broken toilet overflowing. The taste only made her gag more, it went from tasting like shit to tasting like decomposing shit. The smell was so bad it would make her gag, which made her barf again in a vicious cycle until she was dry heaving.
The apartment stank of puke, and none of her friends could enter to take care of her without puking themselves. The exhaustion from puking every day meant she spent long hours on the couch or in bed puking in a bucket, only getting up when she needed to pour it down the toilet. And despite all that, she never stopped eating.
She knew eating would just create more puke, but the alternative was actually worse. If she tried to resist her insatiable hunger, she would puke up concentrated digestive fluid so foul, it tasted like rotten gasoline and burned her throat horribly. There was no good solution, just a less miserable one. So she ate and she ate. Sometimes she puked, and sometimes she didn’t, and it made no difference what she ate. She would have preferred just puking every time after she ate. At least then she knew it was going to happen. The suspense was almost as bad as the puke itself.
Even worse, she was too miserable to masturbate. By this time she had big mommy milkers and child-bearing hips as well as a full belly. If not for the puke, she would have been the sexiest unicorn ever. She actually thought her baby bump was flattering in a mirror, that was until it would start glowing at night, reminding her another creature was growing inside her and causing this nightmare.
A week in, every shirt in her apartment had a puke stain on it, and none of the stains would come out. Then one morning she woke up to a violent barf, spraying the acrid slurry into the bucket next to her bed. Each time she screamed from the violent force of the expulsion. She could feel the awful soft chunks on her big equine tongue, but even worse was the thick digestive juices from the eggs, indescribably horrid, like someone had put a dead body and a septic tank in a blender and then added gelatin. These goddam worms deserved to go extinct as far as she was concerned.
After barfing into the comforting of dry heaves, Jordan flopped back in bed and took a deep breath. It was going to be a long day. But not one minute after barfing her guts out, Jordan was in the kitchen looking for food. She felt like a drug addict searching for anything to feed her intense hunger. She had taken to eating the ramen raw with the packet sprinkled on top as waiting to cook it simply took too long. Crackers were devoured by the sleeve and dipped in sports drink to go down faster.
But after devouring the last stick of butter raw, Jordan realized there was not a crumb of food left in the house. Having takeout delivered would be too expensive knowing her appetite, so she’d have to brave the outdoors. There were no clean clothes left, and Jordan had all but abandoned her dignity, so she left the apartment in sweatpants and a puke-stained hoodie.
She didn’t make it one block before the smell of street food caught her nose. She followed the scent to a hot dog guy just setting up for a lunch rush. He was a croc wearing a grease-stained apron and nodded as she approached.
“How much?” she asked, her mouth filling with drool.
“Two-fifty, and all the toppings you want. Four dollars you get a drink and chips. Five dollars, two dogs, and a drink.”
Jordan slapped a hundred dollar bill on his cart, grabbed two fistfuls of raw dogs, and stuffed them in her mouth. The cart croc watched maw agape as she ravished his stand. Helping herself to a fistful of buns, she washed them down with a can of soda before sucking the ketchup from the tube. Once his food supply was destroyed, she stumbled away, feeling actual fullness for the first time in two weeks.
She was almost proud of her swollen belly, like a mother proud of her baby who drank all their bottle. The pride lasted until she reached the grocery store. Before she entered, Jordan fell to her knees and vomited hard. All the hot dog components came roaring up like a roller coaster from hell, muffling her scream. The dogs, ketchup, and soda mixed with the juices into an awful deathly stew that splashed on the asphalt and spread into a tragic mural of chunks.
Jordan could barely support her own weight, staring at her puke, the sick idea to shovel it back in her mouth as the hunger returned. The worms had absorbed whatever nutrients they needed and were now done with their meal. She swore she could feel them wriggling in her uterus, ready to escape. Her hand reached out to the puke, her hunger conquering her like she was an addict until an elderly sheep approached and asked if she was okay.
Jordan darted inside the store and stumbled into a shopping cart. She hurried down the nearest aisle, unsure of how she could reasonably compose a shopping list when she was this hungry.
First, plenty of ramen. It was dirt cheap and the worms seemed to like it. She took eight trays before she fell on her butt. The worms were hungry again. She tore up one of the packets and devoured it, then another, and another. A brown horse watched her from the end of the aisle, so she hurried along.
The next aisle was treats, and she needed them all. Something pleasant tasting after two weeks of tasting rotten shit. Surely the worms would like it.
A two-liter caught her eye, and Jordan proceeded to chug it like a desert traveler who just found water. She pounded a two-liter of orange liquid and then let out a deafening burp that echoed throughout the store. A cheetah and her kitten stared openly at the display. Jordan smiled bashfully until she puked up everything she just ate, making the child laugh until his mother covered his eyes.
Jordan escaped the aisle at the end and was surrounded by raw cuts of meat. She started to cry as she tore open a raw pot roast and mauled it. It tasted awful, but she couldn’t stop. She crawled across the raw meat, pulling out chitterlings and slurping them up. Before she could grab her next prize, she barfed all over the meat and ran crying to the bathroom.
She stumbled against the door and nearly hit her head before scrambling to the nearest stall. With a full body heave, she purged, pissing herself in the process. The half-digested meats tasted like roadkill and smelled only worst. They grazed her tongue and plopped into the toilet bowl unceremoniously.
Then she barfed again, almost lifting off her feet it was so violent. She was kneeling in her own pissed now, and the barf tasted especially putrid, fermented, decayed, the worst thing she had ever tasted. It was like the contents of her intestines were coming back up.
“Are you okay?” a man’s voice asked from another stall. The door to the bathroom opened as someone new entered.
“I saw her go in here,” Another voice said.
“Ma’am?” a third voice asked.
“I’m O—“ Jordan wretched again, a foul slurry of raw juices, like puke and decay, and sewers, and la Croix all mixed together. She dry heaved and then had the sense to flush. The foul mixture started to go down, then in sheer panic, it came back up. The toilet started to overflow and flood the floor with her puke.
“No…” she whimpered as she found herself kneeling in her own vomit.
“Ma’am, do you want me to call an ambulance?”
Jordan couldn’t reply or even stand. Her sweatpants were completely soaked through in cold puke. On the other side of the stall door, footsteps fled, either from the encroaching puke or the heinous decomposition smell.
“Call the police!” a man said as he fled.
“Ma’am!”
Jordan opened the door. A short white mouse in slacks and a button-down was standing there with a clip on his nose. His hands were up defensively. Bravely, he moved to help her up just as she puked in his face, causing him to flee. She stumbled to the sinks. Staring back at her was a curvy unicorn covered in chunks and puke stains. Puke chunks stuck in her hair, coating her chin. Her fat belly hung out now and was glowing bright pink. Her babies were coming.
Behind her, someone had left their shopping cart. Without a thought, she started picking through it. Raw pasta, marshmallows, raw broccoli, ground meat, vegetable oil. Everything went down her gullet.
She stumbled out of the bathroom and was shocked to find a crowd gathering. Maybe thirty people in total including the police. Caution tape blocked the bathrooms as well as a spread of wet floor signs. A trail of rancid puke led to the bathroom like a snail trail. Everyone watched her disbelievingly. A brave husky in a police uniform approached, sensing she was not a threat but in need of help.
“It’s okay, come with me,” he reached his paw out. Jordan spasmed and heaved, making him jump back. She fell to her knees and vomited out a torrent of puke. The taste was like licking a rotten corpse’s asshole. The chunks were like raw tofu excreted from said asshole. The bile was like acetone mixed with fermented fish, mixed with catfish in a spread of gasoline. First, it was chunks, then a slurry, then gelatinous digestive fluids. The crowd gasped. Jordan’s hips bucked from the force of the spasm.
She started at the swamp she had just made disbelievingly. The air above it wavered and shimmered.
“It’s for a science experiment,” she cried as she picked up a handful of puke and ate it.
