As I lay there gasping and writhing on Frank’s lap, I was tormented mentally by the image I had just seen on his phone, but also from the relentless pressure in my rectum and lower abdomen and the embarrassment of having soaked us both with my urine. I needed relief so desperately on at least one of these fronts. But Frank was in no rush. He had put his phone down and now had his hands once again on my buttocks, massaging them, squeezing the slippery flesh in his hands, and then spreading them. I turned to look back over my shoulder and could see him staring down at my bottom with a look of rapt fascination on his face. Even in the state I was in, a surprising feeling of some sort of satisfaction came to me that I did like it that it was me that he was looking at so intently — that it was my bottom that had him so transfixed. In spite of now knowing what I looked like back there, I felt conflicting urges. Part of me wanted to clench my buttocks together and move my legs tightly together, but there was there also in me a recognition that I wanted to shift and tilt my bottom up a little more for him and spread my thighs open more as well. Before I could through these conflicting thoughts, I quickly started feeling waves of cramps in my lower abdomen. At the same time, the juice from the berries in my rectum was starting to cause an intense burning sensation in my bottom, just as Frank had predicted. I moaned and try to shift my position to obtain relief.

“Stay calm, Andy. I know you’re feeling a very intense urge to have a bowel movement and you’re feeling some burning in your bottom. That’s the astringents in the berry juice having their desired effect. I’m going to help you slowly get up and then take you to the toilet outside. I’m going to hold a cloth against your bottomhole so you don’t make a mess on the floor.”

I feel Frank firmly pressing a small towel against my anus and then he helps me up, lifting me off his lap and onto my wobbly legs. As soon as I am upright, I feel the enormous weight of everything in my bowels and especially, my overloaded rectum. I stumble to the door with Frank guiding me and keeping me steady. I only make it about ten feet out into the grass when an intense cramp overcomes me. I fall to my knees and slump forward onto my hands and cry out at the pain. Frank took away the towel.

“Andy, stay like that and just allow some of it to exit you. It’s okay. It’s just going to be berries at first. Once you’ve expelled enough to provide some relief, we’ll get you to the toilet.”

Before Frank even finished saying this, I could sense that my rectum was pushing out the mush. I could hear the wet plops of it falling in globs into the grass. I could also feel the warm wetness of it spilling down my perineum and scrotum. I glimpsed back at Frank and saw that he was on his haunches squatting behind me, closely studying my upturned bottom.

“Andy, your anus is not opening as much as I predicted it would. This confirms my earlier suspicions that you have an abnormally tight anus. I’ve suspected it more and more each time I’ve had my finger up your bottom. This certainly confirms my suspicions. This may be preventing normal bowel movements. I might need to do some special maneuvers to try to gently stretch you in the next few days. Stay still as I get some photo documentation of this.”

This was not at all what I wanted to hear in my current state. I was finally feeling some welcome lessening of the pressure and fullness in my rectum. The mush was mostly all out of me and I could sense that my bottomhole was closed again. Cramps kept coming, and when I would bear down and push, a pop-pop-pop parade of intact berries would exit my anus. Frank watched this intently.

“You’re pooping out those berries like a bunny rabbit, Andy. When you feel like you can take a rest from expelling for a few seconds, I’m going to help you up to the toilet. I think you’ve expelled most of the berries, and you’re going to start passing stool imminently. For sanitary reasons, I don’t want you to poop on the ground, especially this close to the lake. And I want you to be mentally prepared for what’s coming. You’re going to have an enormous bowel movement. Your entire colon is going to empty itself. It’s going to be exhausting and perhaps frightening at times. I do need to observe you through the whole process with a direct view of your anus. It will be very valuable for me to assess how your anus and rectum function during this process. I’ll have you squat over the hole in the privy floor. The chemicals in the berries have been absorbed into the lining of your bowel, so everything is primed. The next phase is going to start soon, so let’s get you in position.”

Frank got into the privy and had me squat with my bottom over the large hole in the wooden floor. He squatted behind me with his phone at the ready to film me. I was humiliated but so desperate for relief that when the next wave of intense cramping arrived, I gave into the urge to bear down. I could feel my anus stretch and stay open as a huge volume exited my rectum. The loud thuds and splats in the wooden cavern below me gave auditory confirmation of the enormous amount that I was expelling. Frank was pleased overall, “Very good Andy! Poop all of it out for me. Your anus is not opening up quite to the aperture that I had hoped, but you’re doing well. Keep emptying yourself.”

As the seemingly unending contractions continued, I could sense that the material exiting my sore stretched anus had taken on a different consistency and that I was now expelling stool. All of the berries were out of me, but their harsh effects on my bowels continued unabated. Gradually the internal pressure and fullness seemed to fade and I felt more of an overwhelming exhaustion. My thighs were burning from squatting so long and I fell forward to my elbows and knees, pointing my bottom upwards. Finally, I could expel nothing more, but I still could not stop the urge to bear down and push. The experience had been so intense, frightening even, that I was trying to catch my breath. I gasped, sobbed and then would grunt again when I gave in the urge to bear down and push once again. As far as I could tell, the only thing coming out of me was small drips of runny liquid that I could feel trickle down my perineum and some small amounts of gas that bubbled at my anus. This at least told me that my anus was closed up again and no longer in such an obscene unnatural state. I felt Frank start to wipe my dirty bottom with towelettes. When he decided I was cleaned up enough, he helped me to my feet and brought me back in the cabin to rest on the couch while he did a quick clean up and then packed up our things.

“Andy, we are going to head back to the car. Put your shoes on, but don’t put your pants and undies back on. It’s certain you’ll need to stop and expel some remnants of the treatment on the hike out, and it will be much more convenient for you to be naked from the waist down so you don’t soil your clothing or get all tripped up trying to pull your pants down quickly.”

The prospect of hiking out half naked was humiliating, but I could tell from the feelings inside my lower abdomen and that persistent rectal urgency that Frank was right — I would be making some stops along the way. We got underway with Frank walking behind me on the narrow trail so he could “Keep an eye on my bottom” as he put it. And so the walk went with me bare bottomed and self conscious with him eyeing my backside.

Our progress to the car was pitifully slow as I was needing to stop every few minutes to squat on the side of the trail and expel a bubbly dribble of clearish mucus. Frank became a bit annoyed with our slow progress and as I was squatting and pushing once again, he got behind me, “Stay like that for a minute, Andy. I’m going to check inside your rectum with my finger and see if there is anything retained that is causing the cramping. He pulled a plastic tube of petroleum jelly from his pants pocket and greased up his thick index finger. He pushed it right up inside me and I realized how sore my anus had become, “Oww! Ouch!”

“I know you’re a bit sore Andy. Relax for me.”

That was impossible of course as I was half naked squatting on the side of a hiking trail with terrible cramps and a thick finger up my sore bottom. I felt another wave of cramps and had to bear down and to my mortification, felt another batch of bubbling liquid noisily exit me and I knew it was likely now covering Frank’s hand.

Finally, he withdrew his finger, satisfied that my rectum was empty and just still protesting from the after effects of the abuse it had suffered. He used a towelette to clean his finger, hand and most of his forearm from what I had expelled onto him.

Finally we made it to the car. As I stood next to the passenger side still half naked, Frank retrieved my underwear from his pack and helped me step into them, but he only brought them up to my knees. He reached into the center console of the car. “Kate keeps some panty liners in the car, Andy. We’ll use one to protect your clothing and the car seat on the way home. He peeled away the paper strip and placed the adhesive side of the pad against the portion of the crotch of my underwear so that it would be positioned against my anus and then pulled up the underwear all the way.

We headed off in the car for home. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, I quickly dosed off.