Swallowing Bleach Novels & Stories

Leaning back slightly in his chair, Caleb whispered, "Heads up. Check your one o'clock, near the restaurant entrance." Hearing this, Alex looked over. It was as if he had been electrocuted. He promptly set down his chopsticks and tried to get rid of the food in his mouth in two or three swallows. However, the cold beef wasn't that easy to chew in such a hurry. In resignation, he had to drink some lemon water and barely managed to avoid a choking incident. It was truly a bitter experience. He almost starved to death before coming to the restaurant, and now he almost choked to death while eating. What a series of unfortunate events!

I could almost taste it in the back of my throat, and it made me choke violently. I compelled myself enough to take slow, deep breathing exercises using my mouth instead of my nose, crouching down with my hands on my thighs. We needed to check this area for supplies, but I couldn't get over my gag reaction. Slow breaths aren't helping much, and I could feel bile building in the back of my throat. I spun around and ran out of the room before puking, panting for the lovely, pure air. Peter slammed the door shut behind him. "This is meaningless. We're not going to come up with anything helpful."

"Oh God, here it comes, here it comes!" She dimly wondered what he meant when the rod convulsed between her lips and her mouth was flooded with a horrible thick liquid, like sticky cream, tasting salty and gross. She would have retched if she wasn't still held in place, forced to keep letting the spurting rod into her mouth, more and more of the yucky stuff squirting out of it. She couldn't help it, she had to swallow. It was hard to get down, almost choking her, then she had to swallow again to get rid of another disgusting mouthful.

he mocked as a vinegar-soaked rag was shoved in my mouth. I gagged as I tried to suck in air, and some of the vinegar trickled into my windpipe. The bile that rose in my throat burned as I had no choice but to swallow it back down. Nausea boiled in my stomach, not only irritated from the bile but from the lack of being able to consume food.

he barked. I tried to pull away. I screamed. I fought but I was too weak. My mouth was forced open, the pressure bruising, humiliating. Then came the liquid. Bitter. Burning. Unfamiliar. I gagged as it flooded my throat. I tried to spit, to vomit it out, but another hand clamped down over my lips. “Swallow it,” one hissed. “All of it.” I had no choice. It scorched down my throat like acid. My stomach twisted instantly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t meant for healing.

The deeply suffocating stench of the rotting scraps aggressively invaded his actively bleeding nostrils. He violently parted his heavily blistered lips and explicitly pressed his actively bleeding mouth directly into the cold, moldy bread crusts. The terrifying, deeply bitter taste of the freezing dishwater and rotting vegetables aggressively coated his raw, completely peeling tongue. He violently gagged, his heavily bruised spine aggressively arching entirely backward as his severely starved stomach violently rejected the putrid filth. But he aggressively forced himself to completely swallow the sickening, toxic mixture, actively choking on the completely bare, heavy chicken bone.

My stomach churned, and I stumbled back, spitting on the floor to rid myself of the sharp tang lingering on my tongue. “Ugh!” I coughed, dragging the back of my hand across my lips. The taste was so overwhelming it made my throat tighten, and I could feel bile rising. I rushed toward the kitchen, my bare feet skidding on the cold floor. I fumbled for the tap, twisting it on, and let the water pour into my mouth. I gargled and spit, repeating the process until the sharp taste dulled, replaced by the cold purity of water. My hands shook as I gripped the sink, leaning over it as I took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.

he asked, voice low but edged with sudden concern. I swallowed again, trying to clear the strange sensation in my throat. “I… I swallowed something hard,” I said, my brow still furrowed as I stared at the remaining piece of bread in my hand. “It wasn’t the crust. It felt like… metal or something. Weird.” The color drained from his face so fast I almost thought I’d imagined it. Gage went pale, his eyes widening as he stared at the bread tray. His hand left my shoulder and he reached for the remaining pieces, pressing them between his fingers with frantic urgency, crumbling the soft interior in search of whatever I’d swallowed. His breathing picked up, shallow and quick, and the guilt and pani

When she held out that dull looking squishy round thing to my face, I gagged at the smell. It was a horrible smell that was capable of flipping my stomach inside out. "Swallow it then take a sip of water. Don't chew it." Her warning flashed in her eyes. Without another wors or delay, I took the weird looking thing and shoved it into my mouth, and as quickly as possible, I gulped it down my throat. Seeing that it was totally tasteless, my mind settled bquite a bit.

“If that’s all you can stand, then try to swallow it. If you can let it trickle down your throat, it might help more.” Pushing her tongue to the floor of her mouth again, she relaxed her jaw so that the tablespoon of burning liquid collected there. She had no idea how one allowed something to trickle down their throat. Either it was open to swallow, or it was closed to breathe. Mentally trying to walk through the swallowing process step by step, she held her breath, then opened her throat.