The air in the den was thick with anticipation. Lily, a lithe figure, usually bubbling with defiant energy, sat perched on the edge of a velvet ottoman, her knees pressed tight together, a faint tremor running through her. She’d tried the usual tactics: negotiation, flirtation, even a brief, half-hearted attempt at tears. None had worked. Mark, broad-shouldered and impassive, stood by the heavy mahogany desk, a small, clinical-looking box of glycerin suppositories in his hand. David, lean and sharp-eyed, leaned against the doorframe, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“Time to pay up, brat,” David’s voice was warm, but held an undeniable edge of command.

Lily swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Please, Mark, not all of them. Just… one? I promise I’ll be good.”

Mark’s gaze was unyielding. “You promised that last time, Lily. And the time before. You know the rules.” He approached, the box now open in his palm, revealing the clear, bullet-shaped waxy forms.

Lily squeezed her eyes shut, a small whimper escaping her. She hated this. The cold, intrusive sensation, followed by the inevitable, agonizing rebellion within her guts. But defiance was part of her nature, even in submission.

Mark knelt before her. “On your front, Lily. Legs apart.”

Reluctantly, she turned, bracing her hands on the plush fabric of the ottoman. Her heart hammered against her ribs as Mark’s hand, surprisingly gentle yet firm, cupped her bottom. She tensed, her muscles locking defensively.

“Relax, sweet girl,” Mark murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. “It’ll be easier if you don’t fight.”

She tried, truly, but the first cold, slick bullet sent a shockwave through her. She gasped, arching her back, her fingers digging into the ottoman. “No! Oh, no!”

“One down,” David observed from the doorway, his smirk widening. “Only four more to go.”

“Four?!” Lily cried, her voice cracking. “You said three!”

“You earned an extra one for arguing,” Mark said, his tone flat. He withdrew his finger, the sensation of internal pressure already beginning to build. He reached for the second.

This time, Lily was ready. As Mark’s fingers brushed her skin again, a surge of adrenaline, fueled by pure, desperate humiliation, lent her a sudden, surprising burst of speed. She was off the ottoman in a blur, scrambling towards the den’s heavy oak door, her only thought escape.

She was halfway across the room when a strong hand clamped around her wrist. David. With a choked cry, Lily tried to pry her wrist out of his grab. Before she could get away, Mark was there, scooping her up with shocking ease. She kicked and writhed, a genuine, panicked sob tearing from her throat.

“Let me go! David, please!”

But David was already kneeling by Mark, who held Lily firmly against his chest, her legs dangling and spread wide, still kicking, exposed. Her face was flushed crimson, tears now streaming freely down her temples. David held up another suppository.

“Hold her still, Mark,” David commanded, his eyes meeting hers, a glint of challenge mixed with an almost clinical detachment.

Lily screamed, a raw, desperate sound, as David expertly spread her cheeks inserted the third suppository. She felt it slide deep inside, a fresh, cold invasion, followed by the familiar, tightening sensation. Before she could even register the full impact, David was reaching for the fourth. And then the fifth.

By the time the last one was about to be inserted, Lily was no longer struggling. She was limp in Mark’s arms, trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The internal sensation was no longer just pressure; it was a deep, churning rumble, a wave of urgent heat that spread through her lower abdomen. Her body was already reacting, protesting the foreign intruders. “No more fight little one?” Mark kissed her on the forehead. “Only four. You’re done.”

“One more, baby.” David chuckled. “No I have to go, please. No more.”

“You can take it, one more.” Mark pulled her legs back further exposing her butt. Lily started pushing back again, trying to pull away to no avail. “Please, please, enough!” She tried to reach back to cover her butt, only to have Mark grab her hands.

David opened the packed and held the tip to her rectum. “You’re taking it so well. And look how wet you are.” He started pushing it in and out and few times making the urge for release even stronger. When the suppository started to melt, he shoved the rest inside and started massaging it into her rectum.

Lily was fighting Mark’s hold to no avail. Once David was done.

Mark gently set her back down on the ottoman, her legs still weak, her bottom already clenching instinctively. David tossed the empty suppository box onto the desk with a soft thud.

The first full-blown cramp hit her, sharp and sudden. Lily gasped, her eyes wide with frantic desperation. Her hands flew to her belly, clutching it as if to contain the inevitable. The gurgling was louder now, undeniable.

“Oh god,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, I have to go. Now, please!”

Mark returned to his position by the desk, crossing his arms. David remained by the doorway, his eyes fixed on her. Neither of them moved.

“Not yet, Lily,” Mark’s voice was calm, utterly devoid of sympathy. “You were told five. That’s a good dose. And you know the rules for a full dose.”

“No!” she cried, a panicked edge to her voice. Her bottom was clenching so hard it ached. “I can’t! It’s… it’s coming!”

“You will hold it,” David stated, his voice equally firm. “For at least an hour. Longer, if we say so”

“Or we can get the butt plug…” Mark started to reach for his desk.

“NO!” Another wave of urgency crashed over her, more powerful than the last. Lily whimpered, rocking slightly, her face contorted in a tortured grimace. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight it, but her body was already betraying her, preparing for release. The pressure was intense, a burning ache that demanded relief.

“But… but I really have to go!” she pleaded standing up, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

Mark stepped forward, placing a warm, firm hand on her butt giving it a firm squeeze. His eyes, though still authoritative, held a flicker of something almost kind. “You’re strong, brat. You can hold it. You always do. And you know how much better it feels when you’ve really earned it.”

Lily held her cheeks together in her hands, her body rigid, every muscle focused on the desperate internal battle. The gurgling was constant now, accompanied by a heavy, full sensation that made her feel like she might burst. The longest hour of her life stretched before her, an eternity of holding on, clenching, and fighting the overwhelming, impossible urge. Her two doms watched, patiently, expecting nothing less than her complete, agonizing obedience.