Gross Encounters of the Turd Kind

Originally posted January 14, 2008

When I first started this job, I would wake up 30-60 minutes before my morning shift started. I'd do what most people do before they go to work: shower, have breakfast, get dressed. Now, I don't even get out of bed when I log in.

This morning, I get up to make myself breakfast as soon as I log in. It's been slow in the mornings lately, so I figure I'll have time to cook and eat before the first call. I am almost right, I get halfway through my bowl of Cream of Wheat before my phone rings.

Mindy informs me that Ralph wants to talk to a hard core Dom for half an hour and that he's into brown and golden showers. Whoopie, what a great start to my day!

Once we're connected, I tell Ralph to tell me about himself in my sternest voice. He answers in the falsely weak voice of a meek little sub. I'm cranky about this being my first call of the day, and that my oatmeal will get cold, plus his voice annoys me, so I figure I'll enjoy punishing stupid Ralph.

"What do you want to do today, Ralph?" I ask in a disinterested voice that's only slightly an affectation.

"I like to be made to go to the bathroom, Mistress," he says quietly.

Fucking awesome.

"You do? You want to piss and shit while I watch you?"

"Yes, Ma'am. And you can make me throw up, too."


"You're a dirty little boy, aren't you?" I don't know what else there is to say.

"Yes Ma'am. Would you pee on me, too?"

I laugh, "No."

"Why not, Mistress?"

"You don't get to make requests, you do what I say. You don't deserve my piss. "

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Did you eat today?" I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here, so I'm stalling for time.

"Yes I did, Mistress." He already has that slightly breathless quality to his voice. I wonder how I can make him pee if he's got a half-chub. I'm not even sure if that's possible.

"What did you eat?"

"I ate a bowl of cereal, Mistress. Do you want me to go to the bathroom? Will you make me vomit, too?"

I ignore his questions.

"Just cereal? How is that going to fill you up enough for you to shit for me?"

"I don't know, Mistress. Please don't make me vomit!"

That's false pleading. He so wants to puke for me. I so don't want him to.

"Let me hear you piss,"

"Right now, Mistress?"


"Yes ma'am."

I hear the unmistakable sound of piss in a toilet and I giggle quietly.

As the tinkles fade away I say, "Good boy."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Now shit."

"Are you going to make me vomit, Mistress?" He says this pleadingly. He's not even trying to disguise the fact that its what he really wants. I ignore him.

"I said 'shit.'" I say this calmly, matter of factly, while I shove a spoonful of Cream of Wheat in my mouth.

We're both silent. I'm not sure what I'm even supposed to say, but this mostly silent routine seems to be working just fine.

I stifle another giggle as I hear him grunt, and when the first plop hits, I roll my eyes. Why the hell did I think a job as a phone sex operator was a good idea?!

I sit silently as he grunts and plops. I eye my bowl of hot cereal and wonder if there's something wrong with me that I can eat while listening to some dude take a shit.

"I'm finished, Mistress," he says as he flushes. "Are you going to make me throw up in the toilet now?"

"Not in the toilet. Strip naked."


"Strip. DO IT NOW!" I yell into the phone.

"Yes ma'am." There's a brief pause. "I'm naked now, Mistress."

"Good. Get into your bathtub."

"In the tub, Mistress?"

"Yes. Get in the fucking tub! Now. I want to hear you throw up all over yourself like the vile little pervert you are."

"Yes, Ma'am." He sounds uncertain, but excited., "I'm in the tub now."

"Shove your finger or your toothbrush down your throat. Let me hear you gag and choke."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The sound of him retching and heaving turns my stomach and I angle the phone away from my ear. I can't take it completely away and I can't really stop listening, but I squeeze my eyes shut as though that would make it quieter. I am completely grossed out.

After a few minutes of fruitless heaving, he tells me he can't vomit. I remember the Milk Chug contest from Jackass and ask him if he's got milk left from his cereal. He tells me he has nearly a gallon, so I tell him to go chug it until he's nauseous.

I sit idly stirring my cold Cream of Wheat while I listen to him swallow. I can't quite understand how this could be a turn-on, but that seems to be the case for the majority of my callers.

"Ok, Mistress, I think I'm ready."

He sounds green around the gills. I giggle to myself.

"Good. Get back in the tub and puke all over yourself like a good little dirty boy."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I hear him retch a couple times, then comes the unmistakable sound of violent vomiting. I squeeze my eyes shut and take the phone away, suppressing my own urge to heave. Over and over I hear him gushing forth with milk that's probably still cold.

When it finally stops, he says, "I think I'm done, Mistress." He's very quiet, tired and out of breath.

"Good boy. You did a good job for me today." I actually feel bad for him. He sounds miserable.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"So good, in fact, that I think I will piss on you after all."

"Really Mistress?!" He sounds ridiculously happy. "My dick is hard, Mistress."

"Good. Make yourself cum while I piss on you. Use your vomit to lube up your cock."

He groans, and I know that he is.

"Good boy. I wanna see you covered in filth. I stand over you, letting my piss leak out slowly all over you. It's nice and warm isn't it?"

"Oh yes, Mistress! Thank you, Mistress."

"You're welcome, " I say graciously. "Now, let me see you covered in filth. I like my dirty little boy covered vomit, cum and my piss."

"Oh yes, Mistress!" He yells out as he cums. After a beat, he catches his breath and thanks me.

"You're welcome...." It still makes me smile when they thank me. I can hang up knowing it was a job well done. I'm aware that I'm fucked up because of this.

"Have a good day, Mistress!"

"You, too, Ralph!"

"I will now!"

Thankfully, he hangs up. I can't imagine having to make idle chit chat with a dude who just threw up for me. At least his day is off to a good start. Unlike mine, I think as I dump out the rest of my cereal.

I call Mindy and tell her about Ralph. I figure that some girls have weaker stomachs than mine and they should be warned this guy wants to puke.

Mindy thanks me, and says she'll add it to his profile for the next time he calls. She commiserates for a bit, telling me about another caller who likes to hear girls gag. He always calls one girl in particular for an hour at a time. He makes her gag herself over and over the entire call. For an hour!! Afterwards, her throat is so sore she can barely talk. That sounds a helluva lot worse than listening to someone vomit on himself. I thank the gods for small favors.