enema | Graduate School Games - Chapter 1

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Graduate School Games - Chapter 1

By Spacebum

This takes place in Coalville, sometime the first fall semester after I'd begun work on my M.A. Since I was new to the T.A. program, my first assignment was as a tutor in the Writing Center. One morning, I arrived breathlessly from an early class, got settled in at my desk, and saw a woman in her late twenties coming into the room. She was short, about five-one, dressed in a coral cableknit sweater and skintight black Levi’s. I noted that she was on the voluptuous side, with larger than average breasts, round meaty buttocks, and a delicious curve of fullness to her belly. Her hair grew halfway down her back, a rich chestnut brown, and her eyes were a lustrous shade between green and brown.

"Can I help you with something?" I began, adding my usual spiel, "please sign your name, course number, professor's name, and the time on the register."

As she dispensed with the tutorial amenities, she inquired, "Do you have a good handle on APA documentation format? I'm doing a senior thesis in experimental psychology, and I have a ton of questions on writing up the results of a lab study I did."

"Do you have your draft and experimental data with you?" I crossed to the reference shelf for a copy of the APA style manual.

She rummaged in her backpack for a moment, then brought out a thick sheaf of paper secured with a binder clip.

"Let's see what you have," I remarked, taking the papers from her. I quickly read through the abstract, skimmed the experimental premiss and design sections, shot a glance at the table of contents, and located a hand-written series of notebook pages with research data on them. "First question: you don't mention in your experimental design whether you modeled your study after a previous study or created it entirely on your own."

Her eyebrows raised for a fraction of a second, then she recovered, answering, "Of course - I'd have to document that, wouldn't I?" She pulled a Xeroxed journal article from her pack. "Do you want to read it or should I give you a summary?"

"Just a quick recap."

It turned out that her primary design model was based on an earlier study, and I remarked, "To be ethical about this, you'll have to track down a copy of the original study in Morris Library."

"I'm with you so far." Her face fell as she said this, and she opened her mouth to say more when I interrupted.

"You'll also have to indicate, in your premiss and design sections, the differences in design, sample group, variables, and controls between your study and the experiments conducted earlier. Likewise, if you depart in the statistical constructs you employ, an explanation will be necessary. I shouldn't have to remind you of this, based on what I've read so far."

"Actually, I appreciate the tip. A second person always reads my stuff more objectively." She smiled, a warm light that eased my apprehension over being hypercritical. "Is there a chance that I can have you edit and proofread my final draft before I submit it?"

"I can't do that here in the center - it's not part of our responsibility. I could do it privately for a nominal fee."

"We can discuss it over coffee later. What time do you finish in here?"

"One p.m.," I replied, "but then I have a seminar from 1:30 to 3:00."

"I'll meet you in the Roman Room, say, between 3:15 and 3:30. Will that work?"

"Fine - I'll look forward to it." She rose and waved, then turned and strode out the door, her delectable ass swaying as my eyes nearly fell out of my head.

An undergraduate intern at the next desk, a senior notorious for her overreactions to anything that smacked of sexual politics, remarked, "Glue your eyeballs back in, Gramps. I swear you'd tutor even if you didn't get paid for it, just to get the opportunity to ogle women."

It took me a few minutes to locate her, seated halfway across the Roman Room in a deserted area catercorner to the Bake Shop. Then she spotted me, smiled, and waved me over. I walked briskly toward her, depositing my pack on a spare chair, and sat down facing her. "I hope you didn't have long to wait - I was a few minutes late out of the seminar because I had to talk to my thesis director about forming the rest of my committee. I'm going for a cup of java - do you want anything?"

"Black with one sugar. Wait, here's some money." She dug deep into a side pocket of her too- tight jeans.

"Forget it - on me this time." I walked off before she could protest.

Minutes later, I returned with the slightly overfull cups and handed her one. "It just occurred to me, as many times as I looked at your sign-in on the log after you left the center, that I don't remember your name."

"It's Tricia, and yours is Paul, right?"

"Guilty as charged." Silence seemed to hang heavily as we sipped our coffee.

Finally she asked, "What kind of rates do you usually charge for private editing and proofreading?"

"It varies from fifty cents to two dollars per page, depending on the complexity of the material and the competence of the writer. From what I've seen of your work, everything except maybe the appendices and statistical charts would go at the fifty-cent rate. You write as lucidly as any psych student I've ever met."

"Thank you, I think." She looked down as we finished our coffee, then asked, "What do you do with private clients who have a cash-flow problem? Are you amenable to alternative arrangements?"

"My guiding daemon suggests that I respond with a threat to take it out of your hide, but seriously, I've helped people out in exchange for a few hours' use of personal computers, or home-cooked meals, or even use of laundry facilities. I'm learning that being a grad student implies a vow of poverty, so I'm not anxious to put too fine a point on such transactions."

She laughed heartily at this, and remarked, "I could just pay you cash, but I'd kind of like to get better acquainted with you, if that isn't too obvious a come-on." Lighting a cigarette, she regarded me archly and added, "And from the kinds of noises the other tutors made when I stopped by the center after your shift ended, I'd say you wouldn't turn down such an opportunity yourself."

I blushed furiously, coughed to recover my composure, and asked, "Did Wanda the Witch overwhelm you with her gynocritic outrage when you came back?" My sweaty palms made it impossible to light one of my own smokes in self-defense.

Laughing, she grabbed my shaking right hand with her left, extended her lighter with her right, and remarked, "Oh, she just mentioned your approval of a portion of my anatomy best viewed on departure." Chuckling wickedly, she concluded, "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Silently I followed her switching, swaying rump out to her car, a robin's-egg-blue Trans Am, taking a deep breath after she let me in and walked around the hood to the driver's seat.

She started the engine, and we pulled away from campus. Within the space of a few blocks, we pulled up in front of a medium-sized pastel blue racetrack house. She hit a switch to open the garage door, drove in, closed the door, and led me to the entrance through her living room.

"Wait until you see my computer," she remarked. Her decor was another surprise - the living room boasted walls of the same pastel blue shade, as did the deep pile carpet. Furniture included a gigantic white leather L-shaped couch, several white leather recliners, stereo rack and components in black and chrome, and several lamps in black and chrome.

She led me into the kitchen, furnished entirely in gold and white, continuing the leather upholstery. "You really like leather," I remarked. "Do you ever wear leather clothing?"

"Sometimes." She said this with an enigmatic grin on her face.

"I'll bet you'd look great in black leather underwear." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"You'll find out one of these days - if you play your cards right."

I felt an involuntary twitch in my groin as she said this, and I turned a quarter circle away in an attempt to hide the sudden stiffening of my troublesome id monster.

"What's wrong? Is the conversation too arousing for you?" Smiling, she moved closer, threw her arms around my neck, placed her lips wetly and openly against mine, then thrust her tongue into my mouth. All I could do was respond by wrapping her waist with my arms, bringing my tongue into play, and pressing my center against hers.

"Tricia, I've wanted you since the minute you walked into the center." I slid my hands further down her back to clutch the pneumatic roundness of her buttocks. We remained like this for several minutes, tongues dueling and hands roaming, until she broke away from me with that same enigmatic expression on her face.

"Let's get some work done first, then we can play." She led me to a spare bedroom she used for a study. Here the motif was pearly gray, and on a chrome computer desk sat an Apple Macintosh II-cx, with a modem, color monitor, and laser printer. "This is my pride and joy," she explained. "I have a two gigabyte hard drive, 3.5" floppy drive, a 16X CD-ROM, a mouse, a 28K modem, and tons of software." She sat down at the ergonomic chair, turned on the computer, and quickly opened her thesis file. "I'll start you at the beginning and you can do some editing. But first," she rose, took my hand, and led me to the couch, where we sat closely together, "let's discuss payment. My cash flow is really tight right now, so how does $100 up front plus dinner whenever you're over here working sound?"

"It sounds fair - even generous. But what about that scene in the kitchen?"

"That's just because I like you, and I take it that the feeling's mutual." She kissed me quickly on the lips, then grabbed my crotch.

I raised my hands in mock self-defense. "If we keep that up, we'll never get anything done."

"Right," she replied, rising to pull an executive-style ashtray off the shelf. "I don't mind your smoking in here, but keep the ashes out of the equipment. I'm going to make some coffee." She swung out of the room as I drooled at her departing rear.

I soon became engrossed in her thesis, a study of sadomasochistic sexual fantasies. By the time she returned with two steaming mugs of black coffee, I was through editing the abstract, introduction, premiss, design, and methodology sections, and I hit the save command before lighting a cigarette and turning to face her.

She glanced at the screen. "You've gotten pretty far along, haven't you?"

"Page 26 - there weren't very many mistakes. Hardly anything in grammar and mechanics, but I do have a couple of questions about your structure and organization."

"Fire away," she directed, pulling up a recliner next to my chair. She sat down, crossed her legs, and swung one leg against mine as we ran through the problem sections. "More coffee?" she asked a half hour later.

"Could you dump a splash of booze in it? I'm getting way too wired."

She looked at me with concern in her eyes. "Your eyes are getting bloodshot - I think this is enough work for one night."

"What time is it?"

"8:30. Come out to the kitchen with me - I'll fix up those jittery nerves."

I followed the lascivious sway of her derriere out to the kitchen and took a stool at her dinette. "Something smells really good," I remarked, as the odor of broiling meat hit my nostrils.

"I started a batch of London broil just after I turned on the coffeemaker." She crossed to a cabinet, took out a cookie tin, and opened it. "Forget the high-octane coffee - I've got a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge." She extracted a joint from the tin, handed it to me, and said, "Light this up while I set out some plates."

"Need any help?" I lit up and took a hearty toke, suppressing a cough because I'd inhaled too much.

"No - just relax." She took the joint, hit off it, and handed it back. We finished it as she set the table, pulled a large bowl of salad from the fridge, and checked the meat and baked potatoes a final time. "Do you like yours medium or done?"

"Medium well."

"Okay, five more minutes." She sat at the stool next to mine, circled my neck with her arms, and regarded me with those bottomless dark eyes. "I have a really good feeling about working with you on this, both academically and personally." She kissed me again, pressing her breasts against my chest as she did so.

We held each other for another minute or so - I could feel the stone ache of arousal starting as we sat in breathless silence. Suddenly, the oven timer rang, and she rose to take out the London broil. "Pour the wine, okay? It's the magnum of burgundy in the top shelf of the fridge door."

I pulled out the bottle, found the cork already loosened, and removed the chilled goblets from the refrigerator rack. After I'd set them on the table and poured, I inquired, "Should I put the bottle back in the fridge to keep it cool?"

"No, just recork it and set it on the table." She brought the meat and baked potatoes to the dinette on matching platters, sat down, and beckoned me to a seat beside her.

Little was said as we inhaled the meal. Her left thigh was pressed against my right one almost constantly and, hungry as I was, I found it difficult to pay full attention to my food because of my overwhelming desire for this warm, enticing woman.

Finally, I sat back, stifled a belch, refilled our glasses, and remarked, "That was delicious, but I think I ate too much."

"Me, too. I guess vigorous exercise will have to serve in place of dessert.

"Where's the bathroom?" As I asked the question, I barely suppressed a fart.

"Down the hall, door on the right." She squeezed my groin gently and got up to rinse the dishes.

My trip to the john entailed a lot of farting but nothing visible. As I returned from cleaning up, she asked me, "Are you feeling better?"

"Got rid of some gas," I blushed at the intimate nature of the question. "Maybe I should take a raincheck on the other plans we discussed."

"Nonsense," she remarked, a hard edge of command creeping into her voice. "I've got something that will eliminate the problem." She flashed an enigmatic smile that held mystery and a perverse something I couldn't identify. "I want you to go into the master bedroom and strip down to your underwear. Now march!"

Submissive that I am, I had no choice. I moved quickly to the rear of the house, to a huge bedroom dominated by a king-size waterbed in a redwood frame. In an empty corner were heavy iron eyehooks screwed into a 6"x6" ceiling beam.

"Hang your clothes neatly on a chair," she directed. I did as ordered.

"Now lay your T-shirt and socks on the chair seat." Again, I complied.

"Now pull your shorts to your knees, bend over, and grab your ankles."

As I hesitated, she jammed her right knee against my groin. "Do it now!"

She crossed to the headboard of her bed, opened a cabinet drawer, and pulled out a heavy rubber paddle. Returning to my side, she pelted my tush until it was on fire. She laid down the paddle.

"Now pull your shorts the rest of the way off, get on your knees, lower your head to the floor, put one hand on each cheek of your ass, and spread them as far as you can!"

I assumed my position of humiliation as she walked into the adjoining bathroom. I could hear water running and the sound of objects being moved, slightly chilly because of the air conditioning in the room. I waited, not entirely sure what was afoot.

Fifteen minutes later she returned, knelt at my side, and asked, "How long since your last bowel movement?"

"Two or three days - I don't really remember."

"You probably need some help, then." She leered at me, in the same moment sliding a thermometer into my exposed rectum. "I'll be back to check it in five minutes."

My erection had returned from the shock of the cold steel and glass against my prostate. I heard the sound of wheels rolling across the carpet, but couldn't see the object being moved.

She returned to my side, removed the instrument from my back passage, wiped it off, and remarked, "You're running a fever of 100.8o." She paused, then stuck a rubber-clad finger coated with K-Y jelly up my bung, wriggling it around to thoroughly massage my prostate. "It looks like constipation complicated by a severe case of analitis." She withdrew the finger with a popping sound.

I felt her insert something else into my behind, something cool and greasy, longer and thicker than the swab or thermometer. She remarked, "I'm prescribing a two-quart clear water irrigation to be held for a minimum of twenty minutes, to be repeated as necessary." Suddenly, I felt the object in my ass expanding. "Don't panic," she warned, "it's just a inflatable nozzle nozzle I'm inflating to help you retain the water." I realized I could relax as she opened the clamp to release the water into the nether reaches of my bowels.

The water was very warm, not scalding but heated enough to put a flush into my face and to elevate my body temperature by a degree or so. I felt the water pushing itself relentlessly into the full length of my colon, making me fuller, forcing my abdomen to swell visibly outward. I looked up, spotted the rack from which dangled what appeared to be a jumbo-sized enema bag. "Are you sure that thing only holds two quarts?" I asked, a quaver in my voice.

"It actually holds five, but I'm just going a quart at a time until I determine your physical tolerance."

"Is it full all the way to the top?"

"Yes." Her right hand went to the clamp and snapped it shut. I felt the fullness and pressure in my belly increase momentarily and then hold steady. "That's one quart," she explained. "Now lie on your left side and bring your knees up to your chest."

I complied, trying desperately to hide my aching arousal as I changed position.

"What's this I see? Is my patient getting excited?" She reached under my ass and between my legs to fondle my family jewels. "Does baby get horny when I pump his little tummy full of yummy hot water?"

"I'm so hard I could drive nails with my dick."

Snap! She opened the clamp and the water flowed deeper and higher into my thirsty bowels. She continued to massage my balls as the water poured in.

I felt rather than saw a few drops of pre-ejaculate emerge from the head of my burning dick. A slight cramping began just below my navel.

Snap! The flow stopped and I was breathing more heavily due to the unaccustomed fullness of my nether passage.

"Now I want you on your back with your knees pulled up to your chest." I obeyed, my dick sticking visibly straight above my turned-turtle belly. "If you start to feel painfully full, tell me and I'll stop for a while. Since you didn't complain on the first two quarts, you can probably do another quart or so." Snap! She opened the valve, and I could immediately feel my transverse colon beginning to fill. I felt heavy, soggy, overloaded, and horny as a deciphallic billygoat. My stomach was grumbling and gurgling in an alarming manner.

"If you keep that up, Tricia, I'll come before I can touch you."

"It's Mistress Tricia, and you won't come without my permission." She fairly spat the words out. "Keep talking that way and I'll fill you until you bust a gut."

Suddenly an excruciating cramp wracked my whole abdominal region. I felt even warmer, nauseous, weak, dizzy, but still surprisingly wanton.

Snap! she extended her right hand and gently kneaded my bulging middle for several minutes. "Three quarts down. Can he take four?" She gave my dick a rough squeeze and directed, "On your right side, with your knees up to your chest."

I shifted position, waiting for more pressure inside my bursting gut, but she walked away for a moment. Returning from the bathroom, she knelt at my side and stretched a condom over my throbbing organ. "If you make this quart, can you guess what's coming next?"

"We are," I replied cockily.

She slapped my left cheek (of my face, silly) and said, "Watch your mouth, or you'll have another thing coming." Snap!

She grabbed my tool in a viselike right hand, massaging it to even fuller erection. "This is why I buy nonlubricated condoms," she explained, lowering her head to engulf just the tip of my manhood in her mouth.

The water flowed inexorably into my hugely swollen paunch as she worshipped my lustful staff with her mouth and tongue. I didn't know whether the agony or the ecstasy would kill me first.

Snap! She closed the clamp and silently repositioned me on my back, knees drawn up to my chest. "You can let your legs down." As I stretched out flat on the floor, she removed her pastel blue terrycloth bathrobe to stand revealed in a black leather corset which left her bush, buttocks, and breasts naked, gartered to black fishnet nylons. She lowered her torso over mine, placing her knees on the floor, straddling my hips.

Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered her dark pubis over my throbbing penis, pausing just as the tip began to touch her outer labia. "I call the shots. Got it?"

I nodded.

Centimeter by centimeter she lowered her gaping womanhood onto my shaft, finally settling her full weight on me after what seemed like an hour had passed. She lowered her face to mine, pressed her lips onto mine, and searched my eyes with hers. After a moment, she locked eye contact and gave me a devious grin.

Snap! She raised herself slowly, then sank back down. For several strokes she opened the flow on the upstroke and closed it on the downstroke. Then, after one last raising of her body, she closed the clamp, held her position, then came down quickly, speeding into a locomotive rhythm that left me gasping for air. As we rocked, she buried her mouth in my left shoulder and let me feel her teeth. My belly felt still nearer to the exploding point as my burning erection kept throbbing inside her molten cave. She thrust her left breast into my mouth and ordered, "Bite my nipple, you bitch!"

I was so surprised that I reacted without thought and did just that. Snap! She opened the clamp and let in the last of quart five as we galloped to climax. I howled as I jetted my essence into the rubber while her snapping vaginal muscles milked the last of my seed.

We collapsed into each other's arms as she closed the clamp on the now-empty bag. We rested for a few minutes, then she asked, "Can you hold off releasing that until I track down a joint?"

"I feel like I'm gonna explode."

"Tough it out. I won't be gone long."

As I awaited her return, I contemplated the gut-buster I still retained. My middle was swollen five inches past its normal curvature. I drew my knees up to my chest and moaned until I heard Tricia's footsteps. She walked in with a lit bomber in one hand, handed it to me, helped me to my feet, and assisted me to her master bathroom. "Straddle the toilet and I'll deflate the nozzle." I obeyed, then felt the release of the tennis ball-sized balloon up my moon. She tugged gently and eased the instrument out of my ass, directing, "Sit down and roll that condom off."

Once I'd pulled off the rubber, she took it, threw it into the garbage, and rolled another one on me. This she lubricated with K-Y jelly. Handing me the tube, she bent over to present my face with her lovely ass and inquired, "Want to lube my poop chute, baby?"

I squeezed a generous amount on the index and middle fingers of my right hand, smeared the excess on her outer anal region, and plunged both fingers smartly up her backside. She moaned as I began to fingerfuck her asshole briskly, still in agony because she hadn't given me permission to release the water. "That's so good," she exclaimed, reaching behind her back to grab my wrist. "But what I really want is that bone of yours up my greedy little butthole." I withdrew my fingers and waited as she lowered her plump tush onto my rod. "Release!" she shouted, and I relaxed my sphincter. An immense, wetly explosive fart wracked my gut as I gave way to unrestrained emptying.

Her anal muscles squeezed me tighter than I'd ever been squeezed before, and I pounded counterthrusts to match her vigorous bouncing action. "I - can't - hold - it - anymore," I groaned, bringing my left hand into her crotch to massage her clit.

"Now," she screamed, and I bit down on her shoulder, just below the neck, as a veritable gallon of my seed shot into the rubber barrier inside her fiery asshole. Again, we slumped exhaustedly as my purged bowel contents flooded into the toilet. "You can stay here tonight," she whispered when she finally raised herself slowly into an upright position. She eased the condom off me, gave my dick an affectionate squeeze, and walked over to the sink to begin washing her equipment. "As soon as you're done there, jump into the shower. I'll be in to join you in a minute."

In the shower, I had just lathered and rinsed my hair when Tricia slid in beside me. "How do you like this shower?" she asked, reaching between my legs to fondle my genitals.

"Is it big enough?" Suddenly, an idea struck me. "I was wondering if you and other lovers had ever used it for sex."

Nodding, she replied, "Nearly every man I've had since I moved in here has gone the rounds of this shower. Not just conventional sex, either." Gripping me tighter, she whispered, 'Wait until you see what fun we can have in here with a five-quart bag and a y-hose." My erection stirred visibly at this comment.

We lathered each other thoroughly, hands slipping and sliding over every contour and nook of each other's bodies, and came together in a deep soul kiss. I felt a soapy finger enter my tingling bung, and moaned loudly as she massaged my prostate. Just as I was about to explode, she squeezed my dick in a stranglehold and cautioned, "Wait." We rinsed off and dried each other with huge, heavy towels, then she took me by the hand and led me back into the bedroom.

She sat me down at the edge of the bed, sat on my lap, and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Refreshed, clean, tired, but still horny as hell."

"Good. Assume the submissive position on the edge of the bed, knees on the floor." As I bent over, she added, "Spread your cheeks, lover." I opened the globes of my tush, holding them apart with both hands. I felt a cool,

greasy finger rooting in my rear passage, teasing my prostate and bringing me to full erection yet again.

The finger was withdrawn, and I felt the insertion of a tiny, hard, slippery object. "This is a mentholated suppository to relieve any soreness you might feel." Suddenly, she began pressing a thick, blunt object into my expanding rectum. "And this is a vibrating butt plug," she added. "You'll keep it inserted overnight because I have a special surprise for you in the morning." I moaned as the plug pushed deeper, stretching my sphincter muscle, until it seated with a pop. My prostate was on fire, and I groaned in arousal. "Get up on the bed," she directed, and I positioned myself to relax against the pillows. She sat down beside me and guided my head to the rosy aureoles of her breasts. I responded by taking one, then the other, into my mouth, sucking and biting the nipples into full erection, pacing my action to the speed and intensity of her moaning. After endless minutes, she pushed me away, reaching into a drawer in the headboard, and produced another condom. After rolling it onto me, she stretched flat on the bed and remarked, "You get to be on top this time."

As I positioned myself above her, she guided me gently into her moist heat. "Slowly," she directed. I began to pump slowly in and out, hearing the rhythm of her breathing become more ragged as a roaring began in my ears. Suddenly, she grabbed my hips, digging hard into my buttocks with sharp fingernails, and our pace began to accelerate. Sharp cries escaped from her lips, and one hand left my ass momentarily, after which I felt the vibrator begin its humming caress of my prostate. Her hungry mouth was all over my shoulders, chest, and nipples, and her nails raked my back and tush until I was sure she'd drawn blood in half a dozen spots. I felt myself go over the edge, heard her screams interspersed with my shouts, and we bucked in tandem until, drained, we lay still on the sweat-soaked sheets.

Morning came - I felt the buzz of the plug up my ass - I was erect again, but Tricia was nowhere to be seen. I heard footsteps then, and she entered the bedroom bearing two cups of coffee. "Do you have any early classes?"

"I don't have anything until my seminar tonight."

"Good - we can spend the morning in bed." She handed me a cup - the aroma was heavenly, laced with chicory and a touch of brandy. We finished our coffee silently, looking deep into each other's eyes. She reached over and shut off the vibrator switch. "How do you like my little friend?"

"Feels very good - full and yet arousing in a perverse way."

"Follow me into the bathroom." She wore a dark bathrobe that hit her at midthigh, opaque so I couldn't see what she wore underneath. "On your knees, baby. I'm on top this time." As I assumed my submissive position, she took off the robe to reveal a red satin corset and a dildo of two inches girth and eight inches length strapped to her hips. "Put your head down and close your eyes." As I complied, I heard her moving things around to the sound of running water. She pulled the plug out of my tush with a pop, replacing it by inserting the dildo slowly, teasingly, into my behind, not stopping until I could feel her crinkly pubic hairs against my fanny globes. She pulled out slowly, until just the head was inside me, then drove back in swiftly and smoothly. After a couple of dozen strokes I heard a clicking sound, and the pressure inside my ass increased with a spreading heat and fullness. "Have you figured out what's happening yet?" she queried.

"That dildo is another enema nozzle, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. The water contains Castile soap, and you'll be taking all five quarts nonstop. No whining or begging either, or I'll start over with twice as much."

I groaned, aware of nothing except the growing fullness in my gut and the stone ache of my manhood. To top it off, she continued pummeling my ass, in and out with the nozzle until I was sure she'd pull too far out and I'd have a nasty accident on the floor.

That didn't happen, though. Just when I was sure my guts would explode, she pressed hard into my backside, reached around, took my dick in her right hand, and pumped me to orgasm as the invading water continued to bloat and swell my belly. After the bag was empty, she held me for many minutes, massaging my expanded gut and crooning as I suppressed agonized whimpering.

At last, she helped me to my feet, the dildo nozzle still up my ass, and walked me to the toilet, pulling out of me just before I sat down. "Now," she ordered, "suck my dick."

I looked at the dildo with distaste, coated with brown from inside my smelliest depths. She slapped me across the face. "Do it."

Suppressing a gag, I licked and sucked the foul rubber organ as I began to pass the brutal purge, my bowels cramping and farting thunderously in time to the obscenities my loving Mistress Tricia shouted at me.

At last it was over, and I slumped wearily against the toilet. Tricia rinsed her equipment and again ordered me into the shower after wiping me and patting baby powder into my sore anal region.

I was nearly done cleaning myself up when Tricia entered the shower carrying the five-quart bag connected to a Y-hose, to which were attached two nozzles shaped like medium or queen-sized anal plugs. She hung the bag on the shower nozzle, put her arms around me, and kissed me lasciviously. "Are you ready for a major turnon?"

"Always," I replied, reaching down to stroke her lubricating vaginal lips. She eased one, then two, lubricated fingers into my bung, then handed me the tube of K-Y jelly so I could return the favor. A soft moan escaped her throat as I slipped greasy fingers into her tight bottom hole. We lubricated the plugs, got on our knees on the shower floor, and slowly pushed them into each other's backsides. Lips meeting in a kiss, we engaged in a highly erotic tongue duel for several minutes until we gaspingly came up for air.

Snap! Tricia opened the clamp to let the soothing warm water flow into our thirsty bellies. Since these hoses were longer, she sat me on the floor, straddled me, and eased her mossy slit over my turgid manhood.

Slowly, we began to move in rhythm, our heated genitals increasing the friction as the water filled us. The slapping motion of our bodies was punctuated by audible cries and gasping. I felt filled, my dick was hard enough to drive nails, and her twat squished sloppily in rhythm to my upward thrusting. Finally, Tricia screamed out in a continuous, passion-possessed ululation, and I jetted my burning seed upward as her hips drove heavily down on my thighs one last time. We slumped wearily in each other's arms as the last of the water drained into our backsides.

After we had expelled into the shower, rinsed off, and scrubbed the drain, we dressed and ate a late breakfast. Departing for the campus, we took a moment to hold each other and engage in a long, deep kiss. Squeezing my buns before we got into her car, she remarked, "I'll be in the writing center tomorrow during your tutoring hours. I'll bring in my final draft and we can meet at the end of the day to discuss it."

"Fine," I replied. "I don't have anything on tap for Friday. What are your weekend plans like?"

"I should spend some time in the library researching a paper for another course, but other than that, I thought I'd kick back, watch some videos, and just mellow out." She smiled enigmatically, then inquired, "Would you like to spend the weekend with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask. I'll get my research materials together, pack a bag with clothes and stuff, and have it all in the center with me when you come by tomorrow."

"Perfect." A sudden thought crossed her sultry features. "Do you ever cross-dress?"

"Only at home."

"Good - bring all your toys and wear your sexiest undergarments when you come to work tomorrow."

By this time, we were at the Student Center parking garage. We got out, locked the doors, and walked toward Faner Hall, which was directly on the path to the Life Science building. With a brief hug and a tender kiss, we parted to pursue our separate purposes.

I collapsed exhaustedly into bed after returning from my Wednesday night seminar, sleeping peacefully until the sound of birds woke me at 5:30 a.m. I rose, eased two vaselined q-tips up my bung, replaced them with a glycerin suppository, and followed its passage with a small anal plug. I took a pair of elastic suspenders and fastened the short ends tightly around my waist, crisscrossing my thighs with the long ends like a makeshift garter belt. Then I donned a red ciré garter belt, a tight-fitting black cummerbund, a similarly tight abdominal supporter with attached jockstrap, applied two hundred strokes to each asscheek with a rough-surfaced ping-pong paddle, donned a matching red ciré teddy, fastened hair clips tightly to my nipples, put on a pair of sheer pink cotton panties, stuck a tape in my stereo, turned it up loud, and did twenty minutes on my stationary bike.

Finished, I went into the bathroom, pulled down the panties and took out the buttplug, sat on the toilet, and did my business. Stripping, I entered the shower, scrubbed down and shampooed thoroughly, then dried off, shaved my face, genitals, abdomen, chest, and anal region, refastened my undergarments, pulled a medium vibrating buttplug from a drawer, sat on it until it was fully inserted, put the panties back on, tucked the power unit of the plug inside the panties, and padded to my bedroom. There I donned tight Levi’s, placed the power attachment in the left hip pocket, and pulled on a heavy flannel shirt, leaving the tail out to cover the vibrator cord.

I breakfasted on a banana, a peanut butter and honey sandwich, orange juice, and a cup of instant coffee. Putting the dishes in to soak, I quickly packed texts, notebooks, computer discs, and writing implements into my attaché case, then pulled an oversized canvas sport bag from the closet, packing toiletries, socks, an extra pair of jeans, t-shirts, another flannel shirt, a windbreaker jacket, shower thongs, the remainder of my kinky undergarments, toys, and an assortment of my favorite fetish magazines into the now-bulging piece of luggage.

I quickly returned to the kitchen, washed and rinsed the dishes, drying them with a towel and putting them away. I shut off the stereo, took a quick glance around to see that all my burners, lights, etc., were off, glanced at my watch to note that it was 9 a.m., hefted my luggage, locked the door, and walked quickly to Faner Hall. I deposited the sport bag in a coin locker near the writing center, pocketed the key, and entered the room with my attaché case swinging.

The senior woman who'd razzed me about ogling Tricia's tush was just putting her books into a shoulder bag as I came through the door. "I'm glad you're early, Paul. Can you cover the end of my shift? I have to run home and take my mother's health insurance papers to the hospital."

"Sure - I hope there's nothing seriously wrong with her."

"Actually, she had a mild heart attack after I left for classes this morning." Her face was drawn and tight. "Here's the key. I probably won't be back until after your shift ends, so I'll return the favor next week, whenever I can."

"Whenever is fine - don't worry about it." I gently squeezed her right shoulder. "I hope your mom pulls through okay."

She patted my hand, her eyes softening. "Thanks, Paul. This about makes up for you ogling that psych major the other day."

"Actually, we're getting together when I get done today."

"What an operator!" she groaned amusedly, and exited the room.

I signed in, setting my case on the desk, took out a notebook and pen, and had just opened a book of critical essays on Philip K. Dick when Dr. Simons, the center coordinator, walked in.

"Morning, Doc," I greeted cheerfully.

"How goes the war, Paul?" His face became a question mark. "Where's Wanda? You're at work a bit early."

"She had to rush some papers to the hospital. Her mother had a heart attack this morning."

"Well, I hope she'll be okay. Incidentally, I was going to suggest that she take some time off. She's been so stressed out lately that some of our regulars are complaining. Sometimes her feminist rhetoric gets a trifle overbearing."

Chuckling, I nodded. "Yes, it does. But I know she means well - she's actually a sweet kid who's a bit intimidated by this big academic playground."

"If you say so, Paul. Do you have a key to the records cabinet on your ring? I left mine in my office."

I produced the keyring from my pocket. "Is it this little gold one?"

"Thanks." He opened the cabinet, pulled a folder full of tutorial feedback slips from a drawer, and put it on my desk. "It should be slow this morning. Will you help me pull all the slips from students in Dr. Kellogg's philosophy classes?"

"Sure - I can leave Philip K. Dick until later. Is there a problem?"

"The academic senate is investigating about fifty grievances for sex discrimination in his grading, and, since you and Wanda, especially, have been very detailed in recording feedback from students and faculty, the information on the slips should assist us greatly in determining the facts behind the allegations."

We sifted through the records until 11:15, when a student entered and I was off and running on my first tutorial of the day. After I finished the session and let the student go, it was 11:40. Dr. Simons stuck a pile of slips in his briefcase, waved, and wished me a good weekend, heading out the door. Minutes later, Tricia walked in, perched on my desk, and greeted me with "How's tricks, Toots?"

"Hello, pretty lady. I'll close in another ten minutes, take the key to the department office, then get my bag from the locker and we can go out to your car."

"Why don't I get your bag now? I'll take it to the car and meet you by the door when you get done dropping off the key."

"All right - it's a date." We blew each other a kiss as she departed with my locker key. I finished my paperwork, silently hoping nobody would come in at the last minute.

As the second hand of the clock inched up to 12 even, I replaced the materials in my attaché case, snapped it closed, got up and locked the door, shut out the lights and the surge protectors on the computers, and walked to the department office complex. Returning the key, I signed it in, left the office after picking up my mail, reentered the elevator, and rode it back to the fourth floor.

Tricia hadn't returned yet, so I lit a cigarette and paced near the center door. The butt was only half-smoked when she loped up to me, pulled it from my mouth, took two quick drags, and smashed it out in the ashtray. "We're going to give up those nasty things this weekend. Come on - we've got a luncheon reservation at a vegetarian restaurant I just discovered." Taking my hand, she led me out to the parking lot.

The restaurant was wonderful, with an East Indian decor, huge plants, rattan furniture, and the lightest scent of patchouli incense in the air. We ate a special salad, an unrecognizable rice dish, a curry, and drank a half-liter of very mild currant wine. Tricia put a foot in my lap halfway through the meal, teasing me slyly with the open toes of a sandal. At this treatment, I asked, "So what's the game plan? Is it back to your house, or are we headed to the library to finish our research first?"

"Definitely the library. I want no pressing calls of duty once I get home and turn off the phones and answering machine for the weekend." We finished our meal silently, looking lustfully into each other's eyes, then belched contentedly as we finished our wine.

In the library, I managed to locate several more articles in Extrapolations and other SF journals relevant to my research on the early stories of Philip K. Dick. I had just finished Xeroxing these and filling Interlibrary Loan requests for several more when Tricia came up behind me and squeezed my buns affectionately. I whirled quickly to hide my rapidly-erecting dick against her torso. How's your work coming?"

"Got all I need. Are you ready to fly?"

"As soon as I give these to the ILL librarian."

"I'll be at the south exit door when you're done." She walked off, hips swaying lubriciously.

I completed the last form and handed the pile to the librarian, closed my attaché case, and rushed out to join Tricia.

Out in the car, she said, "I want to stop at a fabulous adult bookstore I discovered last week. It's right on the way to my house."

"Fine - sounds like fun."

"You'll like this place - they have a wide selection of magazines and toys devoted to all kinds of fetishes. When I'm between men, I love to browse in such places - the displays get me so hot I have to rush out the door, zip home, bolt the door, rip off all my clothes, and take matters in hand." She squeezed my left thigh affectionately with her right hand as she steered the car with her left.

I belched, uttering an apologetic excuse, and winced because I felt bloated with gas from the Asian cuisine at lunch. She looked at me with concern.

"Upset stomach?" she inquired.

"Just a lot of gas. I'm not used to so much fiber at one meal."

"We can take care of that when we get to my crib." She pulled up to a parking lot, wheeled the car in expertly, and I was at her side putting money into the meter before we headed into the store.

Inside was a fantasy come true - displays, complete with appropriately posed mannequins of both sexes, of an uncannily complete assortment of enema, bondage, and punishment equipment and garments. Taking my hand, Tricia led me to a display featuring a male dummy wearing tight rubber shorts, from the seat of which dangled an inflation catheter. Cupping my crotch surreptitiously, she asked, "Doesn't that look like fun?"

I had no time to respond before she led me to another display, this one of a female dummy seated on a huge red sit-down bag with an oversized nozzle protruding from the center. "Here," she replied, extracting some bills from a wallet in the right hip pocket of her too-tight jeans. "Go pick up some magazines - more ideas for the weekend. A hundred bucks should get us a good assortment, shouldn't it?"

"Yes," I said meekly. "Are you sure you can afford to spend so much?"

"I got a big tax refund in the mail today. Paid three months' house payments and I'm still rolling in cash." She squeezed my crotch furtively, then swatted my tush with an open palm. "Go on - pick out what you want. Meanwhile, I'm buying some new toys." She directed me to the section where the watersports magazines were displayed, then walked away to find a salesperson.

I must have bought a copy of every Water and Power, Enema Erotica, Enema Thrills, Waterworks, etc. issue which I didn't already have, plus five or six paperback novels devoted to the same topic. As I was paying, Tricia joined me with her purchases. "What color underwear are you wearing?"

"Red teddy and pink panties," I whispered in embarrassment.

"Good - I got you a set of breast forms, a black cutout bra and matching crotchless panties, another set in white, one in pink, one in pastel blue, an imitation leather skirt and top, a black satin garter belt and corset, and some nylons of various textures."

"Got any money left?"

"Of course." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "We're going to detour to my connection's house, get some more grass and an ounce of `shrooms before we land at my crib." She turned away, paid for her purchases, and handed the packages to me to carry out to the car for her. I placed the stuff in the trunk with my bag and our school gear, got in, and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to me for a deep kiss before she could start the engine.

"Thanks for being so generous."

"My pleasure - I'm looking forward to dressing you up, then undressing you." She pulled away, and we slid down the street to our next destination.

It was after five when we pulled up in front of Tricia's. She unlocked the trunk and loaded me with literally every piece of gear we'd amassed during the day, then led me to the door. "Just set our purchases and your sport bag on the couch, then carry our school stuff back to my study. When you return to the living room, remove your jeans, shirt, shoes, and socks, take them back to my bedroom, and wait for me on the living room floor on your hands and knees." With a stiff swat to my rump, she dispatched me on my errands.

Waiting abjectly in my submissive position, I could hear the soft padding of her footsteps on the carpet as she returned to stand at my side. My head spun from the bong hits we'd taken at her connection's house. Without warning, she pulled down my panties, twisted the plug to ensure a tight seat, and switched on the vibrator. She knelt at my side and grabbed a handful of my belly flesh as she inquired, "Are you still having gas pains?"

"Uh-huh," I grunted as she massaged my gut more forcefully. Were it not for the plug sealing my back passage, I would have cut loose with a huge fart.

"You know what that means, don't you?"

"It means another big nozzle up my butt until I swell up like a balloon, right?"

"You're learning fast." She yanked me to my feet. "Follow me." She practically dragged me to the bathroom off the master bedroom, carrying the bulky package from the store with her.

Closing the door, she directed, "Take off everything and lay it neatly on a shelf." She began running water for my internal cleansing.

Finishing my chores, I noticed her filling the sit-down bag to the brim with water and topping it off with two capfuls of liquid soap. She sealed the bag with the attached nozzle cap, set it on the shower floor, and ordered, "Bend over on the toilet seat so I can pull the plug."

Grabbing a handful of toilet paper in her left hand, she shut off the switch with her right and began to tug the plug slowly out of my bung. As she wiped if off and brought the paper to my tush, an explosive rush of gas came out of me, setting the air reeking. "Hold it," she said, wiping me carefully, then applying twenty strokes to each cheek with a wire-bristled hairbrush as a punishment for farting. Donning a rubber surgical glove, she coated it liberally with K-Y jelly and pushed one, two, then three fingers up my relaxing bottom hole. She lubed the nozzle on the bag, then directed me to lower my ass over it slowly, guiding the tip up my rectum until my full weight rested on the bag. "Now cross your legs Indian-style and bring your weight forward as far as you can." She supported me with a hand on my chest as I complied with her directions. I felt a sudden rush of liquid shooting forcefully into my bowels, and the pressure increased as I leaned further forward. My dick was struggling for erection as I felt her hand slide to my belly to knead the distended flesh.

"How does your tummy feel now?" She kneaded my stomach even more roughly, bringing tears to my eyes. I heard and felt ominous rumblings deep inside my colon.

"Like it's going to burst. How much water is in this thing, anyway?"

"Just the usual five quarts." She snickered at my distress and kneaded my swollen paunch all the harder, as cutting cramps began to knife through my distended gut, forcing me to lean even further forward. This action only forced the soapy invasion in faster, which brought greater intensity to the cramps and caused me to moan in agony.

"Stand up and touch your toes," she ordered, placing a hand under the bag to keep it against my ass as I levered myself off the shower floor. As I grabbed my ankles, she squeezed the rest of the solution from the bag into my bowels and gently eased the nozzle out. "Now clamp down until I reinsert the plug." I gritted my teeth trying not to release the flood of soapy irrigant which distended my belly.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy, cold, blunt tip pressing forcefully into my sphincter, stretching wider, wider, wider until, with a pop, it was seated. "Different plug, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's a triple ripple - the widest ridge is almost three inches across."

I felt the plug heat up after it was home. My puzzled look drew her explanation.

"This plug is designed to heat up with flesh contact. It has a nifty vibrator, too," she added, switching the control on the fiendish instrument to high. My dick erected again, and she rose to grab a condom and roll it onto me. Positioning herself on all fours, she directed. "Come on, baby, we've got to stir up that stuff inside you. Come fuck me doggy style." I got behind her on all fours as she guided my stiff henry into her cave.

Through the thin latex sheath, my dick felt as if it was gliding into molten butter. She slammed her ass back at me until she was impaled to the hilt, then slowly slid forward, repeating the fast intake and slow withdrawal action until we both screamed in dizzy lust. The excruciating cramps in my gut just added to my arousal, and my body felt like a giant swollen cock as I slammed into her with increasing force. The sight of her round, soft ass globes lit a secondary fire in my loins and imagination, and our rhythm built in speed, punctuated by our moans and cries, until we were swept over the edge and orgasmed violently at the same moment, my thrusts continuing until all my boiling seed jetted into the tip of the rubber barrier. I squeezed her ass cheeks lovingly, then reached around to place my left hand on her left breast and my right hand on the lubricated lips of her vagina.

At last, I slid out of her pussy, and she rose to lift up the toilet lid. She sat down and urinated while ominous rumblings and churnings emanated from my bloated bowels. Winking at me, she inquired, "Would you like to release that water?"

Tears in my eyes, I nodded my head in the affirmative. I crawled over to her side, clutching my swollen belly with both hands, crushed under the heavy weight of the humiliation she'd administered.

"It's so good to see you crawl," she smirked, wiping herself and rising from the stool. "Now stand and grab your ankles. You know the drill." As I assumed the position, she turned off the vibrator and eased the plug carefully out of my ass. "Tighten your sphincter," she directed, squeezing my cheeks together as I sank to the seat of the toilet. "Don't release until I give you the word."

My cramps had reached near-explosive intensity, and I watched in wonder as she sank to her knees before me, rolled the condom off my dick, and took me gently into her mouth. I was in heaven as her lips and tongue lovingly worshipped my manhood. The sensation of pressure and white-hot pain from the brutal purge kept the heat in my prostate at fever pitch, and I groaned loudly as my arousal grew. At last, when I could no longer bear the heavy humiliation, she hollered, "Release," and I relaxed my sphincter. A massive, wet, stinking fart wracked my gut as the purged, slimy contents of my colon shot into the toilet - my sexual crisis was simultaneous, and I fell back blissfully as a new load of my come boiled down her throat. I thought I'd never finish emptying, and my guts farted and cramped painfully time after time before I finished. Tricia kept her lips around my dick until I was hard again, then rose to get another condom from the medicine cabinet. She rolled it on my erection and squeezed my family jewels playfully until I was completely drained of her excellent purge. "Now get in the shower and run the water as hot as you can stand it."

Minutes later, she was at my side, scrubbing my ass and anal cleft severely with a rough sponge until my skin was almost raw with the abrasion. Our bodies came together in a slippery embrace and a deep tongue kiss that seemed to last forever.

Finally, she turned off the taps, grabbed a huge towel, and wrapped it around us. She crossed the room to remove the package of undergarments, etc., from the large bag from the bookstore, and directed, "Take these to the bedroom and wait on all fours beside the bed." I scampered to comply with her command as she cleaned and stowed the bathroom toys.

"Spread your cheeks," she directed, and I separated the globes of my ass as far as I could. She pushed a vaselined finger deeply into my anus, wriggling it around until my dick was rock-hard, then withdrew the finger with a pop, and inserted a glycerin suppository deeply up my behind. She picked up a pint douche syringe with a fat tip, pushed the tip into me in one motion, and squeezed a load of air into my ass, withdrew the nozzle, let the bulb refill with air and again thrust it into my poophole to squeeze more air into my guts. After a third such trip up my bung, she laid the bulb aside and thrust a super-maxi tampon deeply inside me, leaving only an inch or so of the string hanging outside the star of my sphincter. "Stand up," she directed. She handed me the black garter belt. "Put this on, then sit on the edge of the bed and I'll help you put on those fishnet nylons." I did as directed, marveling at the slinky texture of the hose as she slid them over my feet and up my legs. She directed me to stand, then fastened the garters. Next, she picked up the corset and directed me to step into it. Once it was in position from just below my ribcage to my crotch, she began pulling the lacing in the back as tight as she could. "Exhale," she shouted, "and don't breathe until I'm done." I nearly passed out by the time she finished. I looked down to see my torso transformed into a very feminine hourglass shape. She then helped me with the breast forms and black bra, and left the room with an order to don the black panties, skirt, and top. After I struggled, and succeeded, in donning these garments properly, she came back and adjusted a blonde wig on my head. "Now into the bathroom."

I stood patiently as she shaved off my mustache and scraped my face clean, then washed my face, put some perfume on my neck, ears, down my false cleavage, between my thighs, and under the back of the skirt on the seat of my panties. Then she applied makeup to my face.

"Wait for me in the car," she ordered. "We're going to do a little shopping so I can show you off."

Waiting in the car, breathing restricted by the tight corset, I nonetheless felt open and feminine, titillated by the thought of the adventure we were about to undertake. My bowels griped and cramped spasmodically, a sure sign that the suppository and the injected air were at work. For a moment, I feared that I was going to expel a messy load into my panties, but the super tampon proved effective in keeping such an accident at bay. My dick was again rock-hard; I realized that Tricia had made a tactical error in not binding it securely against my body.

At that moment, she approached the driver's door, opened it, and got in, so I put aside fantasies of turning the tables on her for her critical oversight.

"We're going to a used bookstore, then to a strip club I know about - a place very few SIUC students frequent." She leaned over, kissed me, and exclaimed, "You're very pretty now. Do you think you can pull this off?"

"I think so - I have a raging hardon and I hope it doesn't show."

"That's why the skirt is so tight. When you're seated, nobody will see the telltale bulge." She stroked my crotch affectionately before planting another moist kiss on my lips, then started the engine, put the car in gear, and drove off.

Among the items we found at the bookstore were a mint copy of Krafft-Ebing's Psychopathia Sexualis, a gloriously illustrated Japanese pillow book, an illustrated Kama Sutra, and several books of erotic poetry by feminist writers. As we were paying and preparing to walk out, a handsome young man in a three-piece suit pinched my ass as he walked past us. Tricia jammed an elbow into my ribs and whispered, "See? He thinks you're pretty, too."

At the club, we watched various young women perform an amazing variety of erotic postures as they slowly peeled out of their garments. The highlight was a glorious, raven-haired amazon who peeled by stages to black leather underwear, then concluded her act with her bare ass pointed at us, long-nailed fingers spreading her fanny globes wide open so we could see the enticing star of her asshole winking at us. Tricia put her right hand in my lap, winked, and inquired, "How are you holding up?"

"It's time to go home." My eyes pleaded with her.

"In a minute. Finish your drink while I make a phone call, then we'll blow this popcorn stand."

Driving home was agony, as she periodically stroked me through my skirt whenever we were at a stoplight. Finally, we got home, and I was surprised to see her house lit up brightly. Snickering at my discomfiture, she remarked, "I called a couple of friends from the nursing school to come over and admire you."

"I can't go in there like this."

"You will go in - no buts about it. I have half a mind to put the inflatable nozzle up your ass and give you five quarts in front of them. Do you have any idea how that would feel under that tight corset?"

"Like death itself?" I asked, horror etched on my face.

"Close enough. If you go in right now, it'll only be two quarts of cold, soapy water. Fair enough?" She grabbed my chin and turned my head to face her.

"I'm on my way." I grabbed the packages and opened the door, walking swiftly into the house.

Seated in the living room were three gorgeous women in white, miniskirted nurse's uniforms. The woman on the right, a voluptuously constructed blonde, wore a stethoscope around her neck and held a rectal thermometer and a large tube of K-Y jelly in her hands. The woman in the center, a petite, elfin redhead, held a closed 2.5 quart Davol bag with a double inflatable nozzle attached. The woman on the left, an exotic, raven-haired Eurasian, held a large pitcher filled with a sudsy amber liquid. As I entered, they whistled almost in unison. When Tricia came in, the redhead remarked, "You did a wonderful job with him/her. Paula, you're beautiful." She came up to me and said, "My name is Andrea," and ran her hands across the cheeks of my ass, then slid them under my skirt to caress me more intimately. Encountering the tampon string, she gave it a gentle tug, then observed, "That time of the month, is it? Are you having bad cramps?"

Before I could answer, the blonde joined us. "Hi, Paula. I'm Karen. Why don't you lie down on the couch and I'll check you over?" She squeezed my erection and planted her tongue in my right ear as she took my hand. Laying me on my left side on the couch, she put the cold metal of the stethoscope against my chest, listening for several minutes. "You need to quit smoking - your lungs sound terrible." She withdrew the device, then directed, "Flip up your skirt so I can take your temperature." I was about to warn her about the suppository when I saw Tricia raise a cautioning finger to her lips. Like magic, Andrea appeared with bathroom tissue to catch the tampon, etc., when Karen pulled it from my ass. I cut loose with a huge fart, then felt my bung being gently wiped. In one fluid stroke, Karen slid the thermometer up my ass as the Eurasian woman, whom they called Rima, filled the bag from the pitcher and reattached the hose.

Minutes later, Karen gently pulled the thermometer out, wiped it, and exclaimed, "You have a fever of 1010, Paula. It must be rectalitis or stomach

flu. Rima, bring the bag over here." As Karen pushed the inflatable nozzle up my chute and inflated the balloons, Andrea gently kissed me on the lips, following up with her tongue. Rima took me into her mouth as Karen opened the clamp and held the bag high in the air. Suddenly, I felt teeth on my fanny cheeks, and surmised that it was Tricia giving me this extra attention. Soon, I felt cutting cramps from the cold, soapy solution, my belly swelling vainly against the corset. Karen's mouth action speeded up as I watched the bag empty into my thirsty rear. Finally, the pressure and the intimacy were more than I could bear, and I jetted my jism into the reservoir tip of the rubber just seconds before I heard the clamp click shut and looked up to see the bag hanging flat above me. Andrea's hand went to my belly and gently kneaded me through the corset. "We have to get this stirred up well to relieve your menstrual cramps." I moaned, feeling loved half to death by these four ministering angels. I was nearly in a doze when Rima and Karen helped me to my feet and supported me for the walk into the bathroom, Andrea following behind to deflate the inflatable nozzle as the other two nurses sat me gently on the toilet.

Again, a giant, explosive fart thundered from my gut as I began to pass the brutal purge. They watched me with tenderness and concern, and when I finished, took turns wiping my ass. Afterwards, they stripped off their clothes and crawled into the shower with me and Tricia, after carefully removing my clothes as well. Soapy hands caressed me until I was pressed face-to-face and belly-to-belly against Karen's ripe body. As we exchanged a deep kiss, I heard a giggle from Andrea as the pixielike redhead slipped a soapy finger up my bung. She wiggled it around until my prostate was aflame and Karen simultaneously eased my erection into her sopping pussy.

The three of us moved in unison, Karen's weight being supported by Rima and Tricia, while Andrea dropped to her knees and began to lick and bite at my asscheeks. Karen's breathing became ragged, and she sought my mouth hungrily as I, too, began to gasp in passion. Andrea's fingers speeded up until I could feel the orgasmic contractions from deep inside my body. I fired a massive load of come into Karen's belly as she continued to ride me furiously, screaming in ecstasy to match her higher-pitched ululating. After a last bone-jarring thrust, we sank to the shower floor as Andrea pulled her finger from my ass with a popping motion, which was followed by a chain of wet farts as I felt the last residue of the enema exit my bung. Hands turned me on my left side, caressing and scrubbing my genitals and backside as they likewise scrubbed Karen's pussy and rear. Tricia, Andrea, and Rima exited from the shower to towel dry as Karen and I rinsed ourselves off and rinsed the shower floor clean. We came together in a long hug before stepping out to join the others.

Once we were dry, Rima came in with a large satchel from her car. "It's high colonic time," she announced. "I have enough equipment to do everybody at once." She beckoned to Andrea first. "Since you loosened up Paula's ass while we were in the shower, you have the honor of being the first." We watched with lust and apprehension as RIma drew five five-quart bags and five 48" colon tubes from the satchel. Tricia turned on the bathtub taps as Rima attached a tube to each bag, then Tricia positioned Andrea on her left side on the floor and began to tease her pussy and asshole with her tongue. Once Karen had a bag filled, Tricia squeezed a copious amount of K-Y jelly into Andrea's bung, working it in thoroughly with one, then two, then three fingers.

"Oh, that feels good!" Andrea exclaimed. "I can't wait until that yummy warm water starts squirting into my tummy." She writhed in arousal as Tricia withdrew her fingers and helped Karen begin inserting the tapered end of the tube into her tight little asshole. Rima raised the bag higher, opened the clamp, and let the water flow as Karen and Tricia slid the tube deeper into Andrea's bottom hole. Andrea's breathing became ragged, and I watched her belly begin to puff outward as she diddled her clit furiously with her fingers. When the bag stood at three quarts full, Tricia and Karen turned Andrea on her back as Rima closed the clamp. Andrea's face shone with sweat, and Rima asked, "Is the pressure getting to be too much, honey?"

"No, I just need to rest for a few minutes." She belched as she rubbed her belly vigorously.

"Okay," Rima said, "here's the game plan. Since Tricia is our host, she'll be next. We'll begin her colonic while Andrea takes the rest of hers, but Andrea won't be allowed to release her water until Tricia's taken all her water and we've gotten you started." Grinning lasciviously, she looked into Andrea's eyes. "Ready?"

"Let `er rip, Rima. Enema me until I blow up like a balloon." She rolled over onto her knees, head supported on her fists. Rima opened the clamp and hung the bag on top of the shower stall as Karen lubed up Tricia's bung and began easing a colon tube up her ass. I stared openmouthed at Andrea's belly hanging down nearly to the floor, unable to imagine how such a petite woman could endure such an enormous load of water. She gurgled contentedly as Tricia groaned at the progressive intrusion of the tube into her colon. Suddenly, I noticed Andrea's bag hanging empty as Rima snapped the clamp shut. Tricia's belly began to bulge further outwards as Karen shut off her clamp, then she rolled onto her back as her tormentors left her side to get me started. I felt Rima's right "bird" finger slide a big load of K-Y jelly into my bung, and my erection got even harder, if that were possible. Karen began to ease the tapered end of the tube into me as Rima opened the clamp to start the flow. She then helped Tricia into the knee-chest position and started her water again. Andrea was again on her back, clutching her hugely swollen gut and moaning contentedly. As I felt the water squirt into my bowels, I asked, "Does it hurt, Andrea?"

"Only when I laugh," she exclaimed, adding, "but it's a good kind of hurt. It feels like I've got a swimming pool inside my tummy." She again applied busy fingers to her glistening clit.

I saw Tricia's bag hanging empty as Rima closed my clamp and helped me onto my back. Rima and Karen then helped Andrea to the toilet, eased the colon tube gently from her ass, and massaged her stomach as she began noisily to pass the huge load of water from her bowels. She screamed in orgasm several times as Tricia began diddling her own clit, rolling from her knees to her back to relieve the pressure. Rima came back over and helped me to my knees as Karen reopened my clamp. I watched as Rima probed Karen's asshole sensuously with her tongue, lubed her thoroughly, hung up a bag, and began easing a colon tube up her moon, stopping to release the clamp on my bag. I felt full enough to burst, so I rolled to my back as Rima came over to close my clamp. By this time, Andrea was off the toilet, and she and Rima helped Tricia over to the toilet and pulled the tube from her tush after shutting off Karen's water.

And so it went - by the time I got to the toilet, Karen was full, her belly bulging sensuously as Tricia and Andrea eased a tube up Rima's bung. As I felt the water shoot from my behind, I took my dick in hand, but had only pumped it ten strokes when Andrea came over and straddled my lap. With her fingers, she guided my dick into her open asshole and lowered her weight onto my lap, then sought my mouth, guided my hands to her breasts, and began to rock up and down on me. "Your dick feels so good in my asshole. I want you to fuck me until my guts fall out, then shoot your hot come deep into my guts" With this shouted encouragement, I bent and began to bite her nipples until she screamed in delight, and I jetted my seed deep into the clenching reaches of her bowels. By this time, I was empty, and she lifted herself so that my dick came out of her ass with a plop. We wiped each other's asses and helped Tricia support Karen for her trip to the toilet.

Walking to kneel at Rima's side, Andrea cleaned my dick with a warm washcloth, Tricia sucked me back into erection, and I guided my dick into Rima's pussy from behind as she groaned from the increasing fullness in her colon. We reached orgasm as Karen came over to join us with a huge smile on her face. Finally, we all helped Rima to the toilet, eased the tube from her ass, and all began to caress her as she noisily emptied her bowels. Tricia lapped at her pussy as Andrea and Karen each sucked at a breast. I stuck my dick in her mouth and the women masturbated as we all slid to another screaming climax.

After another mass cleanup in the shower, we all retired to the master bedroom. Tricia turned on the TV and VCR and put in a video, then ran to the kitchen for a bottle of wine and five glasses. We arranged ourselves comfortably on the waterbed - Tricia and Rima on either side of me, Karen and Andrea sprawled in front of us. "Guess what I scored today!" Tricia announced. She opened a drawer of the headboard to produce a ziplock bag containing the ounce of dried `shrooms.

Andrea giggled, "Orgy time." She reached back to fondle my genitals as Tricia handed out the `shrooms one at a time. By the time each of us had eaten ten of the psychedelic fungi, all that remained in the bag were crumbs and broken stems, but that pile was still four or five grams in weight.

"I'll put them in a milkshake mix between videos," Tricia declared. "It'll be a tasty boost to our buzz. Karen, do you know where I keep my bong and party bowl?"

"Sure do - I'll have it in a minute."

When she returned, Rima turned on the movie, which was a vignette about a woman in prison caught masturbating by a female guard. We watched in growing arousal as she was handcuffed in a facedown position, lubed, penetrated with an oversized flex nozzle and dual Miller cuffs, then given, in succession, a two-quart lavage of cold water and Castile soap, a two-quart infusion of steaming hot clear water, and a two-quart mixture of diluted wine and mineral oil. She was screaming and crying by the time this last treatment ended, and her normally flat belly was distended over six inches, hanging down dangerously as she knelt on her rack, head resting on her doubled fists.

The guards were brutal about it, too, making her wait until they'd pelted each cheek of her ass five hundred times with a studded leather paddle and then marched her around the cell for ten minutes, kneading her swollen gut vigorously, before they positioned her over the stool, deflated the cuffs, and pulled the nozzle from her ass, forcing her to let fly from a standing position, one guard at each arm to keep her upright. The woman's face, pale and sweaty before being allowed to release the brutal purge, gradually gained color and broke into a blissful smile as the hydraulic invasion left her body. She leaned weakly against the guards as a massive stream of waste continued to splatter into the toilet, until, at last, the guards sat her down to finish her expulsion.

After she'd wiped herself, they oiled her body, paying special attention to her breasts, pubes, and anal region, and peeled their clothes off for a hot oral sex threesome. After several writhing orgasms apiece, the guards produced 3.8-quart hospital-style bags with marked increments, filled them with slightly cool water, and all took their medicine to the beat of pounding rock. They finished up by handcuffing the prisoner, attaching a belly chain cruelly tight around her distended waist, and walking her to the shower, breasts, asses, and pendulous bellies jiggling sensuously. In the shower, they arranged their captive on her left side, stimulated her bung with soapy fingers to hasten her expulsion, and squatted over her, kneading their bellies to force the gurgling contents of their bowels to shower their hapless victim with diluted feces. Then they all scrubbed down and took her back to her cell, where they inserted double-headed dildos into their vaginas and proceeded to impale her pussy and asshole with the opposite ends. The film ended in a mass of writhing flesh as they all screamed in orgasm.

In the reality of Tricia's bedroom, we were all flying higher; Andrea was kneeling with her lips around my cock; from somewhere, Karen had gotten a double-headed dildo and was buttfucking Andrea with it (and getting off from the other end in her vagina); Tricia had a buttplug nozzle attached to a 3.8-quart bag stuck in Karen's ass, and squeezed a forceflow bulb periodically to deliver hot squirts of port, mineral oil, and water into her bung; Rima squeezed air into Tricia's ass from the pint douche syringe and she licked at Tricia's clit and had her own ass in my face so I could lick her pussy and asshole while sitting on a vibrating plug with four suppositories up my ass.

I was in heaven, cramping and straining, my dick on fire due to Andrea's voracious mouth, and intoxicated with the scent of Rima's private parts and the visual treat of so much lust- overwhelmed female flesh. Water, lubricants, and feces leaked from assholes, vaginas, and my dick as we lay lazily hugging and stroking each other, hearts pounding and blood pulsing from the sweet exertion.

At last, Karen, Tricia, and I disengaged ourselves to go into the shower to expel and clean up; as Tricia pulled the plug from Karen's ass, she bent over in front of me and pulled the douche bulb from her own ass, farting thunderously for about fifteen seconds. The noise from that beautiful bunghole made me erect again, and I slid my dick into Tricia's ass as she pulled my plug and rinsed it under the shower. Karen groaned audibly and hiccuped tipsily as she passed her oily, alcoholic purge, and she washed my asshole lovingly as I diddled her clit; finally, spent and empty, we all slid to the shower floor as the soothing water pounded down to rinse and caress our tired bodies. In a few minutes, Rima and Andrea joined us in the shower with a pitcher of creme de menthe/mushroom shakes, which we sipped contentedly as they too cleaned up. After drying off, we returned to the bedroom, changed the sheets, and put another video on the VCR.

The second video featured a woman five months pregnant, sitting lazily masturbating as her father knocked on the door and entered her house. Distressed at finding her belly swollen with new life, he filled a five-quart sit-down bag with water, soapsuds, and two cans of beer. He yanked her into the bathroom, tied her hands and feet, and sat her down on the bag, lecturing her as she moaned and began to weep big tears. When she was full, belly bulging even further, he stood her up, pushed a plug deep into her ass, and paddled her ass to a bright red with a ping-pong paddle. At the point when he sat her on the bag, Rima put her lips around my dick, while my lips went instinctively to her dripping honeypot. I felt pressure against my asshole, and looked up to see Andrea holding a bag high as she buttfucked me with a dildo nozzle; Rima got the same treatment from Karen, while Karen was getting her tits and pussy licked by Trish and Andrea. Everything happened in slow motion then; I felt so filled, caressed internally by the exploding bubbles of club soda inside my bowels, the actions of Rima's mouth causing my dick to get harder than ever. Andrea's thrusting into my bung finally brought me over the edge, and I howled in ecstasy as I filled Rima's mouth with come in time to her orgasmic thrusting against my face.

As we collapsed, I noted that the water kept on coming as Andrea kept on pumping the phallic nozzle in and out of my behind - I looked over to notice Rima getting the same treatment. When the bags were finally empty, Karen and Andrea pulled out slowly, then inserted large vibrating plugs into our rectums.

We groaned audibly as our tormentors donned rubber gloves and paddled our fannies sensuously during the rest of the film. When it was over, Karen, Andrea, and Tricia led us into the shower, assisted us into a coupled position on the floor, Rima on my lap, turned the water on comfortably warm, and pulled our plugs. We reached another orgasm each as the fizzing liquid shot from us, and then sat lazily cuddling and nibbling at each other as the caressing water streamed down on us.

We lay in a heap on the bed watching a third film; Karen was bent over my face, her soft, plump ass over my lips as she sucked my dick back into bursting erection - I lapped lazily at her pussy and butthole as I watched Tricia and Andrea in a wild sixty-nine, lying on their sides with colon tubes inserted up their asses. Rima held twin five-quart bags attached to the tubes, suspended from a heavy hanger, and she squeezed the bags periodically to force bursts of warm water into the two women's thirsty backsides and bellies. The film was a highlight, too - the best of the three we'd seen. It showed a woman entering a colonic clinic, complaining of menstrual cramps.

After being sensuously undressed by the Amazonian female attendant, the woman had her temperature taken rectally, then submitted to a three-quart lavage of Castile soap and warm water. She was on all fours for this treatment, and we all watched her writhe uncomfortably as her belly bulged down and the bag flattened out, prevented from evacuation by the dual Miller cuffs sealing the large flex nozzle in her tight sphincter. When the first infusion was done, the attendant closed the clamp and left the room for a few minutes, as the patient moaned in distress.

The attendant returned with two glasses filled with Drambuie. She handed one to the patient and they sipped their drinks as the attendant massaged the patient's bloated abdomen. At last, the patient clutched her belly, complaining about cramps, and the attendant helped her to the toilet, where she deflated the cuffs and removed the nozzle so the woman could pass a noisy flood of waste products. The attendant gently cleansed her anal region afterward, first with toilet paper, then with a warm, soapy washcloth. She helped the woman to lie facedown on the exam table, placed an oversized bedpan beneath her ass, and left the room to get equipment for the colonic.

When she returned, she wore rubber exam gloves. She began by lubing the fingers of the right-hand glove, then eased her middle finger, bearing a large glob of K-Y jelly, into the patient's winking asshole, fingerfucking her sensuously for several minutes before withdrawing for another load of jelly, this time thrusting two fingers into the woman's open bung. This action was accompanied by much moaning and writhing by the patient - her clear arousal was confirmed by the glistening secretions that coated her vagina and dripped onto the rubber sheet covering the table. The attendant, a stunning blonde, went to the deep sink and began running water, adjusting the taps to the desired temperature. She then attached a fitting to the telescoping faucet, eased the tapered end of a large colon tube into the redhead's bung, and wheeled the table beside the sink, where she attached the flared end of the tube to the fitting. As the water flowed into the patient's body, the blonde gently slid the tube further and further into her colon, not stopping until only four inches of its five-foot length had coiled sinuously inside the woman's bowels.

"Oh," the redheaded beauty moaned. "My tummy's starting to get full. Can we stop for a minute?"

"Sure," the blonde nurse replied. She pulled the flared end of the tube off the fitting and stopped the end with a rubber plug, then closed the taps to ensure that the hot water supply would hold out. She assisted the redhead to a position on her back, knees drawn up to her shoulders. The woman's normally flat belly was becoming hugely distended.

"How much is in me?" she asked her blonde tormentor.

"I'd say a gallon and a half, based on the size of your gut. The whole treatment is five gallons, but you don't have to hold it all at once."

"Good." She belched, clutching her abdomen, and writhed as the amazing nurse brought her face down to begin lapping at the redhead's box. I felt one of Karen's fingers slide up my ass as her ministrations on my dick increased in speed. I responded by thrusting my tongue deep into her ass, stabbing it in and out like a miniature cock. At last, our pace slowed as we watched the nurse on the film again open the taps, adjust the water temperature, pull the plug, and reattach the tube to the sink fitting. The redhead hiccuped several times as the water flowed forcefully into her already swollen gut, clutched her thighs, and pulled her legs further back, then moaned as the blonde again applied her lips to her snatch. Suddenly, she screamed in orgasm, then moaned, "Oh, God, I'm too full. I think I'm gonna explode." Quickly, the blonde rose, shut off the taps, disconnected the tube, and allowed her patient to pass a gallon of water before she plugged the end of the tube and began eating her patient's box again, kneading her belly as she did so. "How much is in me now?" She panted, her gut resembling that of a woman five or six months pregnant.

"Three gallons. After the expansion cramps subside, we'll run in another gallon and see if you can hold it." She patted the redhead's hugely inflated stomach and asked, "How are the menstrual cramps?"

"Gone - all I'm feeling now is full." She belched. "I feel like I could shit forever. All that nice warm water inside my tummy." She shivered, then writhed and screamed as the ministering angel ate her to another climax.

After allowing her patient another ten minutes' rest, the blonde again opened the taps, connected the tube, and ran in the last gallon. Intensified writhing accompanied this procedure, as the patient groaned and exclaimed, "I think I'm gonna barf if I have to take much more."

At last, the nurse shut off the water, replugged the tube, and joined the patient for a hot sixty- nine. After two or three orgasms apiece, she rolled the redhead to her side and placed the bedpan near her ass, then helped her sit up on it. "Now relax as I remove the tube." The redhead moaned, clutched her enormously bloated gut, and the nurse gradually pulled the tube from her bowels. She then kneaded the woman's paunch vigorously as a continuous fart erupted, echoing loudly in the bedpan.

Karen continued gobbling my dick as she thrust two fingers in and out of my backside. I lapped at her engorged clit until we both screamed in orgasm.

Tricia and Andrea wrapped us in a hug, the tubes in their butts sealed with plugs as their swollen bellies pressed against us. Rima went to the kitchen to make drinks as we all writhed in satiety.

After a pitcher of creme de menthe shakes, we all got into the shower, where Tricia and Andrea bathed us with their expulsions and we lay afterwards in a soapy grope.

Sheets changed, we sat in a circle on the bed, passing the bong around for five or six rounds, until we all began to float in sensual warmth. Tricia positioned her plump fanny over my face as the three nursing students began to rub oil into my body. They massaged me into a tingling state as I stabbed my tongue in and out of Tricia's bung. Then they took turns oiling and massaging her while Karen took her turn on my face. At last they positioned Tricia's ass over my throbbing dick, facing away from me. I grabbed her tits as she sank down slowly to impale her asshole on my shaft. All in slow motion, we began to move together, Rima now on my face as Andrea and Karen flowed into a hot sixty-nine.

"Fuck my ass hard," Tricia yelled. "Give me all your big dick, then shoot my ass full of your hot come." She speeded her bouncing movements, biting her lower lip as she moaned in unrestrained lust. Above me, Rima moaned in quickening arousal as her ass rode my face. At this point, I withdrew my tongue and began nipping at the soft flesh of her asscheeks. She screamed and writhed in climax as I stuck my tongue back up her bung. I moved my right hand from Tricia's right tit to her plump pubic mound, and began stroking her clit quickly - with a howl, she twisted on my dick, clenching me tightly with her sphincter, and I shot my hot load deep into her thirsty bowels.

We stayed coupled until my dick shrank and popped out, then Andrea and Karen helped her to her knees and I sealed my mouth to her ass, sucking my cum from her open butthole. As this happened, Rima left, returning in a few moments with a five-quart bag and a plug nozzle. They put me on my back, knees pulled back to my shoulders, tied my wrists and thighs to the headboard of the bed, and inserted the nozzle, hanging the bag low before they opened the clamp to release the steamy water slowly into my hollow behind. Then the four women ran feathers slowly across my body, avoiding my genitals until my gut was visibly swollen. At that point, Andrea slowly straddled me, glued her mouth to mine, and quickly engaged me in a tongue duel, then began teasing my nipples with her feather. Someone, Karen or Tricia, traced the underside of my balls with a feather, and at last another feather brushed lightly against the head of my dick. Groaning, I shot great gobbets of my seed all over my bulging gut and onto Andrea's inner thighs, overflowing onto the clean sheets.

After wiping me off with a damp washcloth, the women assisted me in sitting. Andrea left the room for several minutes as the others patted my bloated abdomen. "You look pregnant," Rima observed. "We'll take care of you until you're ready to deliver." She patted my belly affectionately. "Are you still having morning sickness?"

"No." As I said this, Andrea reentered with a paper sack from their car. She drew out huge breast forms and a maternity bra, putting them on me with Karen's assistance. Then she and Karen rolled me onto my side, squeezed the lead from the buttplug nozzle, detaching the hose fitting and inserting a rubber stopper into the plug lead. Helping me to my feet, they attached a harness to the base of the plug, and fastened it securely around my hips. Rima then assisted me into a maternity teddy, and the four women led me out to the kitchen.

"Are you hungry for anything special?" Tricia asked.

"I don't know. What do you have?"

"Kosher dills and fudge revel ice cream." She pulled a jar of pickles from the fridge as Rima and Karen assisted me to a stool at the dinette. I took a pickle from the jar and began munching it contentedly. Andrea urged me to eat two more, and I belched against my hand after I finished the third one.

"How does you tummy feel?" Karen asked. "Can you hold some ice cream?

She stroked my swollen gut as she looked probingly into my eyes. I belched against my hand as Tricia set a huge dish of the rich confection in front of me.

Karen stuck the spoon into the dessert and began to feed me slowly, caressing my belly as I eventually ate the whole bowl. "More?" she asked, looking into my eyes again.

"No thanks - I'm stuffed." A sudden wave of nausea caused me to arch my back for a deep breath.

I heard a giggle, then Andrea said to Tricia, "I suppose she'll be going into labor soon?"

"Yes, from the amount of ice cream she ate, I'd say the first contraction will be hitting her in a half hour, maybe less."

Dumbfounded, I asked, "What are you talking about?"

Karen rubbed my belly gently and whispered, "The fudge filling in the ice cream is pure Ex- Lax. You'll soon feel some intense cramps, but they'll make you feel as close as a man ever can to a woman in labor." She caressed my fake breasts, stuck her tongue into my mouth, and held me for several minutes. Tricia ran for the bong and we passed it around several times after moving en masse to the giant couch in the living room. I was all mellow and lazy, slouched back between Karen and Tricia, when an excruciating cramp knifed through me. As I seized my swollen gut and cradled it in my hands, Andrea remarked, "It looks like her water has broken."

"Come help me get the table ready," Rima motioned to Andrea. "Karen, time her contractions and call us when they get two minutes apart."

Karen and Tricia positioned me on my back with my knees bent, caressing me gently as more cramps and ominous rumblings knifed through my insides. I felt faint, and had nearly passed out from the explosive pain when Karen announced, "Two-minute contraction intervals. I'll go tell Rima." She swayed away, luscious ass wobbling as she disappeared. In spite of my intense bellyache, I had a throbbing erection, and Tricia stroked it playfully as she cradled my head in her lap.

"You've been a good sport about this, Paula. When we say our good-byes to the girls, I'm going to let you plan the rest of the weekend."

I was about to answer when I saw Karen return, pushing a wheelchair. She and Tricia helped me into it, then pushed me back into the master bedroom.

In the center of the room was an exam table with a bedpan fastened to the center. From the end dangled a two-inch hose which ran into the bathroom. Karen and Tricia removed my teddy, helped me onto the table with my ass over the bedpan, and placed my feet in the stirrups.

"Bear down," Rima directed, and I tightened my abdominal muscles as she removed the plug from my ass. Karen wrapped her lips around my dick as a huge fart wracked my gut and I began the sweet release I'd awaited so painfully. Before I was half-done, I exploded a load of come down Karen's gullet, as Tricia, Rima, and Andrea took turns kneading my flattening stomach. Finally, Rima swabbed my face, neck, and chest with alcohol preps, pronounced the delivery a success, then gently dabbed my anus dry with bathroom tissue and a wet washcloth. She helped me off with the bra and breast forms, then took me into her arms and led me to the bed. As we came together, Andrea, Tricia, and Karen surrounded us with their warm flesh and fondled us (and each other) as we lazily slid into a final shattering orgasm before Tricia turned off the bedroom lights with a bedside switch and we all huddled under the sheet in a sodden, sated slumber.

Sunday beckoned - we all rose at eight, refreshed from sleep and ravenously hungry from the previous day's exertions. After a huge breakfast consisting of Spanish omelets, country sausage, English muffins topped with honey and apricot jam, Irish coffee, and about half a dozen bong hits apiece, we bid Andrea, Karen, and Rima goodbye with hugging and kissing all around. As the nursing students opened the door to leave, they promised to take a hand in my discipline now and then, and to keep me company whenever Tricia was out of town. As Karen wrapped her arms around me for a long and sensual kiss, she squeezed my buns in a viselike grip and whispered, "We'll have to go one-on-one sometime soon. I love the way our bodies fit together." I squeezed her buns in answer and sent her out the door with a playful smack on her fanny.

Tricia locked the door behind them and turned to face me, her eyes shining with a mixture of lust and tenderness. "Just for today, Paul, you'll call all the shots and I'll be your slave."

"Lose the robe, wench," I ordered, and she untied her bathrobe to stand nude before me. "Now, march into the master bedroom." I followed behind her, my erection stirring from the lascivious motion of her opulent buttocks. As she entered the bedroom, I directed, "On your hands and knees beside the bed." As she knelt and bent, I added, "Drop your chin to the floor and spread your cheeks as far apart as you can get them." Her hands traveled back to hold her fanny globes wide open. "Stay in that position until I return." I went into the bathroom, filled the five-quart bag with extremely warm water and two ounces of Castile soap, attached the hose, inverted the bag to bleed the air from the tubing, closed the clamp, attached the double inflatable nozzle to the hose, hung the contraption on the floor stand, grabbed a jar of Vicks and a box of q-tips, and pushed the apparatus into the bedroom.

I opened a door on the headboard of the bed, pulled out a pair of steel handcuffs, attached them to her wrists, and locked them. Then I opened the Vicks, stuck in the q-tip for a big blob, and without warning plunged the fiery swap deep up her open bung. She whimpered, her upper thighs and asscheeks shaking like jelly. "Tricia, you conniving slut, you really embarrassed me by exposing me to your friends in my feminine gear. For that reason, I'll have to punish you." I withdrew the swab, plunged two fresh ones into the Vicks, then stuck them up her rear passage. Leaving them for the present, I pulled a studded rubber paddle from the headboard and delivered two hundred strokes to each cheek. "For the rest of the day, you'll be purged and stimulated anally until I'm ready to bestow the gift of my phallus up your rear." I pulled the swabs, coated the index and middle fingers of my right hand with the Vicks, and eased them into her backside, fucking her ass for several minutes as I felt her sphincter loosen under my onslaught. Then I lubed the inflatable nozzle with Vicks and eased it into her bung, inflating the inner balloon as soon as it was seated. I opened the clamp and the soapy invasion began to flow, which inflated the outer balloon in the process. After a quart had flowed in, I turned her onto her left side, knees drawn close to her chest. I began to knead her expanding stomach vigorously as she moaned and took deep breaths. She winced suddenly, arching her back as a cramp shot through her.

"Master," she inquired, "did you put a lot of soap in this bag?"

"Two ounces," I answered gleefully. "From the look of the first swab, you need a severe internal cleansing." I looked up at the bag, noting that the second quart had flowed in, so I rolled her onto her back and held her legs close to her chest. "You guessed it, Tricia, a good, industrial-strength high colonic." Her gut puffed further upward and I rested my hand on it as I heard ominous rumblings from deep inside her bowels. "Are you ready for a break, or do you want to continue?"

Panting for breath, she replied, "I'll try to take it all without stopping." Sweat drenched her hair and shone on her face. Looking up to discover only two quarts left in the bag, I rolled her to her right side and kneaded her belly as the fourth quart flowed in. I returned her to her back for quart five, then closed the clamp and assisted her to a seated position on the bed.

Returning with the bong, I loaded it and alternated hits with her, watching as she relaxed visibly. I led her into the bathroom, positioned her over the toilet, and deflated the inflatable nozzle, easing it from her ass afterwards. "Now I want you to let fly from a standing position." As her abdominal muscles contracted to utter a thunderous fart, I took her clit between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand, pulling and pinching her nipples roughly with my left hand, listening to the sweet music of her emptying. She screamed and writhed in orgasm several times before she was through, then I unlocked the cuffs so she could wipe herself.

"Rinse cycle," I announced, replacing the cuffs on her wrists, this time in front of her body. I filled the sit-down bag with steaming warm water, lubed her and the nozzle, and sat her down on it on the shower floor. I positioned her leaning forward, legs crossed, and asked, "Where are your car keys? I think we're out of smokes."

"In the headboard - but I thought we were going to quit." She hung her head in regret as soon as she said this.

"Shut up, bitch - now I'll really take my time."

I returned forty-five minutes later with cigarettes and a case of wine coolers in assorted flavors. Stowing three of the four-packs in the fridge, I brought the last one into the bathroom. Tricia was still in position, face pale, hair drenched with sweat, head hanging forward in exhaustion, her belly swollen hugely from her second lavage. "I'm back," I announced. "Are you ready to get rid of the big gut, wench?" I kneaded her belly as she hiccuped, in a state which I sensed was near nausea.

"Please let me release the water, master. My stomach hurts so bad I think I'm gonna explode." Her hands cradled her distended gut as she moaned softly.

"Very well, slave. Stand up." As I released her handcuffs, she got weakly to her knees as the nozzle pulled from her ass with a popping sound. I turned on the shower taps, stripped off my clothes, and got into the shower, pulling her to an upright position. As the heated water shot out of her ass, I scrubbed her breasts and deflating paunch with a rough brush, washed her face, fingered her twat until she again moaned in ecstasy, then, when she was empty, turned her around to scrub her shoulders, back, buttocks, and upper thighs with the brush, rubbing vigorously again so her skin shone pink with the abrasion. Finally, I put her on her hands and knees and ran the brush roughly across the cleft in her backside, then inserted a soapy finger roughly up her bung, just to make sure it was kissing sweet. She moaned, bucking backwards in an attempt to draw my finger in farther. Inspired, I reached for the soap, lathered my dick thoroughly, then positioned myself behind her.

Pulling my finger slowly from her butthole, I positioned the head of my dick

against the soapy, relaxed target. I could see the entrance to her bowels opening and closing rhythmically like a voracious mouth as I eased my blood-engorged member slowly into her. She breathed deeply and pushed back against me as I felt myself slide smoothly in to the hilt in one continuous stroke.

"That's so good," she moaned. "I love having your hot rod up my butt - it feels like molten fire in the pit of my bowels."

I slid easily in and out for several strokes, until I heard her scream, "Fuck me harder, Paul. Pound my ass with your dick until it comes out my navel." Taking her at her word, I speeded up the force of my assault, reaching between her thighs to play with her swollen clit with the fingers of my right hand, while my left held her left buttock in a viselike grip. I could only take so much of her tight, moist, hot back passage, however, and five minutes later I pulled out completely, replaced my dick with three fingers of my right hand, positioned myself on my knees with my dick waving in front of her face, and ordered, "Suck it, slut!" as I pistoned my fingers vigorously in and out of her backside. She stared at my rod with an expression of distaste in her eyes, yelped as I began smacking her buns with my left hand, and slowly wrapped her mouth around my tool. I placed my left hand on her mound and worked it with my fingers as my right hand kept up the assault on her sweet bottom. Her body shook in climax several times until, with a groan, I shot a giant load of my seed into her throat. Sated, I rested on my knees and drew her into my arms in a protective hug. "How are you doing, baby?" I asked solicitously as the shower continued to caress us.

"Satisfied, Paul - very satisfied. I feel so clean and empty - I'm beginning to relate to your fascination for being dominated."

"That's very good, wench, because I have one last treat planned for today." I helped her to her feet and took her into my arms as we rinsed off. After shutting off the shower and drying ourselves, I lubed two q-tips with K-Y jelly and inserted them deep up her ass, cuffed her hands in front of her again, and placed her on all fours next to the shower stall. I opened the cabinet and took out two three-quart bags, announcing, "One for you and one for me."

Opening the deep sink taps and adjusting the temperature to very warm, I filled each bag with a quart of water, opened and poured a wine cooler into each, added more water, then topped off each bag with a second cooler and more water to dilute it. I attached the stoppers and hoses, shook each bag vigorously to mix the solution thoroughly, inverted them and opened the clamps momentarily to discharge the air, closed the clamps, and attached a dildo nozzle to one hose and a plug nozzle to the other. I lubed each nozzle liberally with the jelly, stuck a glob up my chute, then pulled the q-tips from Tricia's bung and worked in a big glob of jelly with two fingers of my left hand. "Okay, slut," I inquired, "are you ready to have that big, smelly rump of yours fucked like never before?"

"Yes, master," she groaned, dropping her head to the floor to jut her butt out more enticingly. I sat on the plug nozzle of my own bag as I worked my fingers in and out of her tush, then removed them and held her cheeks open to see the wide-open star of her bung winking at me, hung the bags on the shower curtain rod, and picked up the dildo to bring it up to her rear. I eased it slowly into her behind as I helped her into the shower and put her back on all fours.

"Do you really want to get fucked with this load of water and rubber dick?"

"Oh, God, yes," she groaned. "Give it to me." I pulled the dildo out slowly, then pushed back in, speeding up my strokes as I knelt in front of her to guide my crank into her mouth. She bucked back and forth on the dildo in her ass as she worshipped my manhood until I felt an immanent crisis approaching, and pulled out just in time to prevent my ejaculation. She moaned as I thrust the ersatz phallus in and out of her pooper, screaming, "I want to feel that thing come inside me," and I opened the clamp to release the mildly alcoholic solution into her thirsty bowels. "Oh, that's so good," she moaned. When the bag was half-empty, she belched, "You're getting me drunk - I guess you'll have to take advantage of me." I worked the phallus back and forth, until the bag hung empty, then closed the clamp and got on my knees behind her.

"Tighten up your sphincter so you don't spill any when I pull this out." As I eased the soft rubber appendage out of her, I opened the clamp to my bag. As soon as I had the nozzle out of her ass, I began to ease my rod into the same hole. She moaned as she relaxed the rubbery ring of her anus, belching softly at the alcohol being absorbed into her bloodstream. I felt my own colon being invaded by the solution, the diluted wine filling me with a happy glow that made my dick all that much harder.

I stroked slowly in and out of her behind, delighting in the tingle on the head of my maleness from the solution in her bloated guts. "God, Paul, I feel like I'm gonna come and shit at the same time. Fuck me harder!"

I speeded up my pace, answering, "You won't believe how good it will feel to let go in both openings simultaneously. How does your tummy feel?"

"On fire - oh, it's so wonderful." She pushed back at me furiously, a signal that she needed more vigorous stroking. I kept up this frenzied pace as my bowels swelled and I began to feel lightheaded from the wine in my lower canal.

Tricia began to scream obscenities at the top of her lungs, and I felt my crisis approaching as her sphincter began chewing hungrily at my crank. My hands were all over her, caressing her clit, pinching and twisting her nipples, until I finally yelled out my orgasmic joy, pummeling her ass even harder as I shot my wad into her inner depths in time to her own screams of pleasure. As my dick shrank and popped out of her, the pink solution of diluted wine began to shoot from her bung, so I stood, closed the clamp on my bag, pulled the plug from my ass, and squatted over her to shower her with my own wine cooler purge.

Afterward, I removed her cuffs, helped her to her feet, and we scrubbed each other off under the hot shower. We then retired to the bedroom, where we alternately napped and made love until suppertime.

End Of Chapter 1

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