Smearing a large blob of the aloe cream on the fingers of my left hand, I got behind Karen on the rubber mat. "Lift your right buttock a little higher, if you can," I directed, and as she complied, I smeared a good quantity of the stuff along her anal crack, finally insinuating my middle finger slowly and gently into her anus, but pushing as deep as I could, then pulling out to rub more of the cream on the finger, pushing it back in and fingerfucking her depraved, lustful ass for a few minutes. Finally, I got a suppository out of the jar, slid it all the way up inside her, and reached for the little bottle of store-bought enema to pull the protective cover off the tip. "Relax and hold your butt open while I squirt this into you," I said, gently pushing the tip into her behind and slowly, ever so slowly, squeezing all I could of the irritant fluid into her bowels. As I withdrew the tip, I directed, "Now hold your cheeks together until I can get the plug inside you." This object I lubed well with the aloe cream, then began pushing its blunt rounded tip at the opening to her colon as I separated her cheeks with the other hand. Once it was home, I squeezed the inflator bulb until it was fully expanded.

"How are we dressing for this event?" I asked, as we threw away the waste from our little therapy session.

"I've got some skintight rubber panties, with frilly bottoms that billow out like bloomers, and some matching teddies. That way we'll get them into the spirit of infantilism I want to establish. I've got sets of the garments in their sizes, too, and we'll force them to strip in front of us and put them on as soon as they get here and have brought in whatever stuff they were planning to bring with them." She wrapped me in a hug, remarking, "By the time we're done eating, we'll be sweating in those outfits, which will be sexier than hell."

"Indeed it will--I can't wait to get dressed for dinner." I grabbed the cheeks of her broad rear end, steering her toward the bedroom.

She opened a drawer of the dresser reserved for my lingerie and her kinkiest undergarments, withdrew five sets of rubber panties and matching teddies, and looked at the size labels. "Your waist is what? Thirty-eight or thirty-nine? Then the size nine panties should be about right. Here." She handed them to me.

I struggled to get them on, marvelling at how they made my belly stick out above and below the tight waistband. "Just right," I remarked.

"Good. Since my waist ranges from thirty-four to thirty-five, I've got a pair in size eight." She struggled to get them on, then showed off her figure, with her belly bulging lewdly above and below the waistband.

"Tricia's waist is twenty-five, I believe, so she'll be wearing size four panties, while Andrea, whose waist is only twenty (twenty-one when she's bloated from her period), will wear size two." She rummaged through the stack of five rubber teddies. "Now your chest is what--forty, forty- two?"

"Generally between thirty-eight and forty, but we haven't measured it since I put on this weight."

"Then a thirty-eight A-cup ought to be perfect." She threw the garment at me, and I pulled it on. The neckline flared to my breastbone, exposing my nipples, and the waist was elasticized, cinching me in so my newly feminized contours could be seen clearly. Like the panties, the bottom, which came about four inches below the nipped-in waist, had cute little ruffles on it.

"Mine is a thirty-eight D-cup," she commented, pulling the garment over her head and adjusting it. Her tits practically spilled out of it. "We wear the same size, except that my tits are a lot bigger than yours."

"Naturally," I quipped. She slapped my butt sharply, sending a sting through the rubber panties.

"Let's go turn off the oven, smoke a bowl, and wait for our victims to arrive. Oh, I should also look at that home pregnancy test."

We went back into the bathroom and she read the instructions on the box the pregnancy test came in. She followed the directions, and the urine sample she had earlier poured into the specimen cup changed color. Looking closely at the directions again, she announced, "Ya knocked me up for sure--congratulations. We're gonna be a mommy and daddy." I hugged her fiercely, then tenderly kneaded her buttocks and breasts before turning her around so her back was against my crotch. Rubbing her slightly rounded tummy with both hands, I proclaimed, "I can't wait to see this start getting bigger." We met in a tender kiss before returning to the living room.

We were very high indeed when a knock came at the door; Karen checked the spy hole and opened it to admit Tricia and Andrea, who were dressed in matching latex trenchcoats. "I'm glad to see you two are into the rubbery theme of the evening." Letting them in, she asked, "May I take your coats?" They stepped out of them to reveal their nakedness. "Follow us into the bathroom, and we'll help you get ready for supper." We took them into the bathroom, positioned them on all fours on the rubber mat, and lubed their rears with a copious amount of the aloe cream, then led them to Karen's bedroom where we helped them into matching sets of rubber panties and teddies.

"Aren't we a bunch of sexy babies?" Andrea commented.

Returning to the livingroom, Karen loaded a bowl and passed it around, then had me help her set the table and put the dishes of food on the sideboard with serving spoons and a fork for the pork steaks. Again, we simply demolished this Rabelaisian repast, then Trish and Andy rinsed and stacked dishes and cooking utensils in the dishwasher, turned it on, and joined us in the living room.

"I'm so full," Andy moaned. "I can't believe I ate two pork steaks and a pound apiece of baked beans and mac'n'cheese." She squirmed on the couch. "Gotta fart--sorry, guys." She lifted a petite buttcheek and ripped a big one, being seconded by Trish's fart.

"How come you two aren't farting from the beans?" Trish inquired suspiciously.

"Self-control," I said, and Karen giggled.

"My time for farting massively is coming," Karen commented. "I just took a home pregnancy test, and it confirmed what I'd suspected the other night. I'm going to have a baby."

Congratulations went all around, complete with tearful but happy hugging.

"Dessert is chocolate cherry cheesecake," Karen remarked, looking directly at Tricia and Andrea. "I'll cut it after we smoke another bowl."

We loaded and passed the bowl, refilling it at least two or three times, until Trish and Andy began to slump on the couch. "So stoned," Trish observed. "I think I'm getting the munchies in a big way."

"Me, too," Andy seconded. "Even if it's a little hard to believe."

"Very well," Karen replied, pulling me into the kitchen with her so we could cut big double helpings of the rich, filling cheesecake. We also blended another pitcher of strawberry daiquiris, bringing it on the second trip, as the other women were already piling into the cheesecake. Karen poured and then sat next to me on the loveseat.

"Good thing none of us has early classes tomorrow," Andy remarked. "I'm getting deliciously fucked up." She snarfed down the rest of her cheesecake, then asked, in a little girl's voice, "Is there any more? I'm still hungry."

"I think we finished it," I responded, with a quick glance to Karen, who winked at me as I left for the kitchen. I returned with a big plate of brownies (which had been doctored with kind bud and Ex-Lax. "How about a brownie or three to fill that empty spot?" I asked, offering the plate first to Andrea.

"Great," she said, taking four of them. I watched her put them away as fast as her dainty hands could move, resisting the urge to let loose with a wicked chuckle.

The rest of us contented ourselves with two apiece, and then Karen broke the silence: "I suppose we should get on with some bathroom games, now that we've all nourished ourselves for the night ahead." Trish and Andy nodded, knowing somehow that doom was in the air.

Karen produced two studded leather paddles from under the loveseat, handed one to me, and went over to put a CD on her stereo and crank up the volume. When she joined me again, she swung her paddle sharply against the seat of Tricia's panties, as I performed the same loving office for Andrea. "Now march! Into the bathroom with the two of you." We kept swatting at their tails until they got to the rubber mat. "On all fours," Karen ordered, "and pull your panties down to your knees." As they complied we each gave them about three hundred swats apiece on each buttock, so that their upthrust fannies were nearly purple by the time we wearily laid aside the paddles. "Spread `em!" she barked, and I watched both pairs of buttocks open wide, exposing vulvae and anuses as she positioned herself behind Trish and rudely inserted the dry middle finger of her left hand up the plump brunette's rear, fucking in and out to loosen her up. "You're a little tighter than you usually are, slut, which is amazing considering the loads of come you took up your whorish ass yesterday. I will have to use lube." She crossed to the medicine cabinet and took out a jar of Vicks, returning to coat the middle and index fingers of her left hand with the fiery grease. "Don't think of this as play but as punishment," she snarled, plunging both fingers briskly up Trish's behind, causing her freshly spanked asscheeks to quiver like jelly. "I've got to get some things ready in the kitchen, Paul, so you get Andrea ready the same way I prepared Tricia."

"Get your ass open wider, you little baggage," I commanded, then pushed the dry middle finger of my left hand slowly but relentlessly into her tiny bottom hole. "Tell me if that hurts, cunt!"

"Yes--it almost feels as if you tore something in me."

"Let me check," I said, grabbing a flashlight as she spread her bottom for me. "Looks fine," I replied, "but you're too tight also, and in need of some industrial-strength lubrication." I dipped index and middle fingers of my left hand into the Vicks, then plunged them deep up her behind; I could hear her sobbing as the fiery invasion hit her, then began to fingerfuck her bootie hole in earnest. In a few moments, I withdrew the fingers, and ordered both of them: "Lie on your left sides with your legs slightly apart, and keep those asscheeks spread. I'm going to the kitchen to help Karen mix your solution."

In the kitchen, Karen was mixing the busy solution into one of two four-quart bags; I took the other one, waiting for her to finish so I could pour from the three different pitchers--one of our mingled urine, one with Castile soap and steaming water, and one with blackstrap molasses and steaming water. "I wonder if they'll regret stuffing themselves so much at dinner--especially dessert, with the cheesecake and brownies."

"We'll know soon enough," I replied, carrying one of the bags into the bathroom, bringing up her rear.

"Nummies for the tummy," Karen called cheerfully. "I'm glad to see you two have kept your rears open for our therapy. You both need to be purged, and purged rigorously, if the smell of your nasty farts after dinner was any indication."

"My booty hole is sore from that Vicks," Andy complained.

"Mine, too," Trish seconded.

"If you two hadn't been so bad last night, we wouldn't have to punish you this way tonight." She hung Tricia's bag on one side of a rolling IV stand while I mounted Andrea's on the other side. As I pushed the stand closer, Karen directed, "Now I'm sure you two can get those nasty buttcheeks even wider open--now!"

Looking at their fanny cheeks, pointed in opposite directions, made my penis swell with blood. Karen bent down, slowly pushing the plug nozzle from Trish's bag into the brunette's opened behind. "This nozzle has aloe on it to soothe that nasty backhole of yours." She opened the clamp, just as I teasingly began to insert Andy's plug nozzle and open the clamp.

We watched with satisfaction as the solution drained quickly from the two bags, then watched the women clutch their bellies and give vent to unrestrained crying, their faces getting red and puffy as they tried to control the explosive bellyfuls they held.

"What did you put in these bags?" Tricia asked. Andrea only cried and hiccuped all that much harder.

"A little treat; each bag has a half-gallon of our urine, which Paul and I have been saving up since just after you two hellions left last night. The other half of the load, and we've mixed it very thoroughly, is mainly steaming warm water, with three tablespoons of blackstrap molasses and an ounce of Castile soap mixed in." She bent over beside Trish, kneading her belly roughly. "How do you like our little surprise?"

"It's so painful; I feel like my cramps are gonna stop my heart." Her pulse was racing, and I watched the sweat drip down her forehead and face. "Owwiee! Can't I get rid of this pretty soon? I'll die if I don't."

"No more begging, or you'll die even sooner," Karen said in a peremptory tone. "You two will have to hold these at least an hour, during which you'll be licking our genitals and assholes and making us come as often as possible, then we'll feed you a big salad to make everything slide out easier." She resumed her kneading, punching attack on Tricia's middle as I began my own abuse of Andrea's tortured abdomen. After five more minutes of this treatment, she nodded to me to get the thrusting vibrators and both tackle boxes of attachments.

"It says in the instructions that a little machine oil on the surface of the sandpaper plates will intensify the feeling of abrasion to the skin," I noted. "And that's what's going to happen right now; we want your bellies transparent so we can see peristalsis at work." I put some oil on each plate after attaching them to the vibrators, then handed one to Karen. We squatted over their faces, pulled our tampons, and began to rub our bellies to force our colon contents out into their mouths. I saw Andy hiccup and gag two or three times, but she swallowed as gamefully as possible, her body heaving as I ran the orbital sander over the swollen expanse of her middle. When she was done swallowing, I forced my cock between her lips and made her suck me to an exquisite climax. I looked over to see Karen bouncing up and down on Trish's face, lost in her own ecstasy.

After making the girls cleanse our rears with their tongues, we stood. "I think a nice salad would be really refreshing, don't you?" Karen said to no one in particular. "Paul, show our guests what else we have for them." I went back to the kitchen and brought a fresh bag of produce. From it I drew half a dozen small onions, the rest of the giant red radishes, and two huge, thick slicing cucumbers.

"Hope you're hungry," I said, easing the plug nozzle out of Andy's ass and replacing it with four of the radishes. "Getting full yet?"

She only belched and hiccuped, tears in her eyes from the spicy shock of the makeshift love beads. I took three of the onions, hardly larger than the radishes, and eased them one by one up her moon; I noted that Karen had already used up her small stuff on Trish's slutty back passage.

"Here's where it gets to be fun, girls." Karen took a bottle of Thousand Island dressing, poured some in her left hand, and smeared it all over the narrower end of the cucumber she was holding, then told Trish, "Back up on all fours, and spread your cheeks wide apart." I watched with fascination as the brunette parted her quivering behind to give me a view of its partially stretched center hole, with the whiteness of one onion visible inside. Karen slowly pushed the cucumber into her rear, not stopping until she only had about three inches left as a handhold. "Sorry I forgot to cut this up and toss it before feeding it to you. Oh well, I guess it all mixes in your stomach anyway." She backed out, then began a locomotive rhythm that had Trish gasping and gibbering in agony mixed with pure masochistic pleasure. After fucking her to several involuntary orgasms, Karen positioned her sitting on the mat, the cucumber held in place by the weight of her ass against the floor, and attacked her middle with a Magic Fingers plate.

I'd been following suit through this whole operation, doing the same things to Andy, and I watched her sob and hiccup and belch from the intense torture in her middle as I sat her on the floor to anchor the cuke up her fundament. "Permission to speak, Master Paul!" she asked with her head lowered.

"Granted." I turned the speed switch on the Magic Fingers attachment to low so I could hear her.

"You guys aren't gonna let us die, are you? This is gonna end pretty soon, right?"

"That's up to Mistress Karen, but no, we don't want you gals to die. We love you, but wanted to see you squirm for a while." I hugged her briefly before turning the vibrator back to high and recommencing my work on her middle.

She planted a tender kiss on my throat as she said, "I love you too, Master Paul, just please don't kill me."

Karen interrupted at this point: "How about a drink, girls?"

They both looked a bit confused, and she went over to the medicine cabinet and took out two new bottles of Kaopectate. "Drink hearty, ladies. This way you won't have the runs tomorrow." We each opened a bottle, placed them at their mouths, and tilted them back until they were empty. "Yumbo, right?" Karen demanded, running her vibrator against Trish's inflated belly until the agonized brunette answered in the affirmative. Andy was much easier to convince, as she swallowed the thick medicine readily and pronounced an enthusiastic, "Yumbo!"

I looked at my watch; an hour had elapsed. I said to Karen, "Do you think these two have learned their lessons?"

"I hope so." She helped Trish rise and slowly pulled the cucumber from her bung; the force of the brutal purge she held, plus the action of the Ex-Lax that had been administered surreptitiously through the brownies, caused all three of the onions and all four of the radishes to fly out of her rear, bouncing like ping-pong balls against the far wall of the huge bathroom. We all started laughing, even Andy, who was choking back tears from the extreme pain in her middle. Karen quickly put a bucket under Trish's ass, and the chubby brunette passed an explosive flood of waste, farting thunderously and clutching her belly against the abrasion which had distended it for over an hour.

I helped Andy up; she rose painfully, clutching her swollen middle. After easing the huge cuke from her rear, I settled her over a bucket, hearing the three onions and three of the radishes drop into its echoey depths. "Looks like the same problem Karen had last night," I remarked, as I put the fist attachment on my vibrator and pummeled her belly with it for a few minutes, until I could hear the plop of the last radish and the farting, cramping, explosive evacuation of her over- stressed bowels. I ran to get a damp washcloth, and I bathed the sweat off her forehead, neck, shoulders, and breasts as she continued to empty, sobs and hiccups still issuing from her throat.

At last, the two victims were empty; we stood them up, helped them into the shower, and scrubbed them down. "Andy," Karen admonished, "I didn't want to spoil the scenario by warning you, but you probably shouldn't have eaten four of those Brownies?"

"Why? Were you saving them for something special?" Her toned changed as Karen came over to her and hugged her, her hands reaching to squeeze the diminutive redhead's rear.

"No, hon, but there was a whole package of Ex-Lax in the mix. Tricia, you did bring over more Barium, didn't you?"

"Yeah--there was a sale, so I have like ten gallons of it sitting in my trunk."

"When we dry off, we'll all drag in the radioactive yummies and we can all fill up with that glowing fluid. That'll keep the crampy diarrhea at bay," Karen smiled brightly as we rinsed off, turned off the taps, and began to towel each other dry.

All pretense of punishment was gone as we lay in a loose circle on the rubber mat, pleasuring each other's genitals orally as we passed a tube of K-Y around to lube each other's bottom holes. Andy rose momentarily, saying, "I've got a great idea. Since the circle isn't really complete without Rima, I'm going to get my cel phone and call her, give her a play-by-play while we're doing this." She scampered out of the bathroom to fetch the device from her bag. Returning, she dialed the hospital and spoke, "Room 237, please." A minute passed, then she said, "Rima? Yeah, it's Andy. I'm over at Karen's, and we're all lying on a rubber mat in the bathroom munching each other's crotches while we lube our assholes and prepare for a group barium enema. Wish you were here." Listening for a minute, she said to the rest of us, "Rima wishes she was here, too." Returning the phone to her ear, she listened for a minute, then responded, "Yeah--Karen took a home pregnancy test just before we got over here. She is going to be a mommy."

After several more conversational exchanges, Andy said, "We've got to get back to our play, but I'll tell you about everything as it happens. I think my asshole has dried out, so Paul's gonna stick a couple of fingerfuls of K-Y jelly up my slutty behind." I complied, sliding the index and middle fingers of my left hand deeply up her bottom, sliding them in and out until she was gasping with passion. By this time, Karen and Tricia had wheeled the IV stand over to the mat, filled the bags with steaming water and barium (they were the six-quart opentop models with marked increments), and had begun easing inflatable nozzle nozzles into each other's rears; Andrea laid her cell phone aside for a moment so we could get hooked up.

"On the count of three, open your clamps," Karen directed. "One--two--three," and we all started our infusions simultaneously. "We'll be releasing in the tub later, for obvious reasons." She scooted her rear next to mine, saying, "Andrea, line up on Paul's other side, butt to butt, and Tricia, on Andy's opposite side. I've got the camcorder running, so Rima can enjoy the footage when she gets out of the hospital." She threw her left arm around my waist, adding, "Put your left arm around Andy's waist, and your right arm around mine. Andy put your right arm around Paul's waist. Tricia, put your left arm around my waist." She threw right right arm around Trish's waist, and we all rubbed the small of each other's backs, buttocks, and bellies as the radioactive water flowed into us.

Andy, on the cel phone to Rima, said, "We're in a line with our rear ends touching on the rubber mat, our arms around each other's waists. It's a really sweet scene, which you'll get to see, since we're getting it on video." She listened for a minute, then responded, "Of course my tummy is getting full, and I imagine it will be crampy by the time we're done with this treatment--a gallon apiece of barium plus two quarts of steamy water each to regulate the temperature and help inflate the outer balloons of the double Inflatable nozzles we're all stuffed with." She listened again, then said, "Yeah, Karen and Paul did feed us a big dinner, and yes, they did give us enemas consisting of their own urine, Castile soap, blackstrap molasses, and steamy water. We did get produce shoved up our butts, too, but it felt really good when we got to let all of it out. No, there's no real damage to either of us. Just kinky fun that went no further than we wanted it to."

Andy moaned, feeling her colon get really full, and turned to us, "Rima says that if she was here, she would have lubed Karen's and Paul's nozzles with soap for that blackstrap molasses detail." Turning back to the phone, she said, "I think the biker who grabbed you is in the hospital here in intensive care. Maybe we'll come in wearing nurse's uniforms some night and give him a belly- buster dosed with blackstrap molasses." She giggled, giving us Rima's response, "She says it would serve him right, and that she wants to help." We all laughed, despite the fullness in our bellies. "I've gotta go, Rima--things are getting too interesting to talk about; you'll hear it on the video soundtrack anyway. Love to you, too." She turned off the phone, kneading my swelling belly as I kneaded hers and Karen kneaded Tricia's and vice-versa.

"How's everybody holding out?" Karen asked. "Are you folks still achey from the suds and the blackstrap molasses in the last round, or is this a tad more comfortable?"

"I don't know if I'd ever describe having six quarts of liquid locked in my bowels as comfortable," Trish began, "but I'm only feeling full now, rather than feeling crampy to the point of implosion." She kissed Karen gently, continuing, "Have you and Paul watched any of that video I brought you from Chi-Town yet?"

"Just the first sequence, to where the advisor sends Susie into the nurse's office and she gets eight quarts and some nice oral action from Nurse Beamish. We'd done the Fleet enema/triple- strength suppository/prune Danish/ultra-spicy burrito buzz after returning from Giant City park, and finally had to go to the bathroom because our cramps were so intense." She slid her hand into Trish's crotch, adding, "But watching the first thirty-five minutes or so while we were writhing around with explosive bellyfuls of shit was definitely arousing. Did you want to watch some of it after we release these barium treatments?"

"Actually, Karen," Trish answered, "I was hoping we could watch some of it while we're still retaining these barium loads. I think it would be a good idea for us to hold them as long as possible to maximize the binding effect." She looked over at me and Andrea, smiling lasciviously, "What do you two think?"

"I think it would be a major turnon to watch some of that hot video while we're all full of this stuff," I put in. "We can all grope each other on the carpet so we're not awkward with the double Inflatable nozzles up our asses."

"Yeah," Andy added. "The best way to watch a video of that nature is either while taking an enema or while holding one."

"I'm outvoted," Karen said, and we rose to detach nozzles from bags.

In Karen's living room, we all sprawled on the carpeted floor, Karen loading her glass bowl with kind bud while I blended another pitcher of strawberry daiquiris. When we were prepared with drinks all around, she started the video. Karen and I were lying spoon-style, with me behind her, my penis against her big soft ass, one hand cupping her vulva; Trish and Andy were more-or- less sprawled right next to her, playing with each other's breasts. We were all moaning softly from the fullness in our colons, but nobody wanted to end the kinky, slightly masochistic buzz by releasing before we'd seen at least one scene of the video.

On the screen, Nurse Beamish was calling the Public Health Inspector. As the camera panned in for a closeup, she was saying, "That's right, Taco Bell, over near the high school. There appears to be a problem with the chicken they put in their tacos. I just had a girl in here, one of our cheerleaders, who ate two chicken tacos there at noon and was suffering cramps and involuntary voiding by three or three-thirty p.m. Her medical history is very sound, but she was running a fever of 101.7o F." She listened for a few minutes, then said, "Well, she said her friends eat there every day. I'm hoping to interview some of the other girls who were there today and find out if any of them had any symptoms or unusual side effects from their meals. Very well--I'll be expecting a call Monday." She hung up the phone, crossed to the closet, and began to unbutton her nurse's uniform when a knock came at the door.

"Who is it? I'm about to close up shop for the day."

"Alice Tate, the cheerleading advisor. I just wanted to consult with you on Susie Quick, the girl I sent you a little while ago."

"I'll be with you in a minute." Hastily buttoning the top buttons of her uniform, the nurse crossed to open the office door. "I was just starting to change into street clothes, but I can give you a few minutes."

"Thanks. I'm really concerned about Susie--she's a very sweet girl, and I felt really bad for her when she had her little accident this afternoon. But someone has to be an authority figure, and that responsibility fell on me, because she was under my supervision."

"I think you were right to send her to me. Susie's a very bright, highly motivated, achievement- oriented girl; I can't help but thinking stress might be a factor in the problem she had today."

"Well, I do drive my cheerleaders pretty hard. But Susie always seems to eat up any challenge I present her with. How did it go in here?"

"I gave her a rectal exam, took her temperature--she's running a fever of 101.7o--quizzed her about her medical history, especially her bowel habits, and then gave her a nice warm soapy enema." She watched the cheerleading advisor closely, as the dark-haired woman seemed to be sitting on the edge of her chair taking in every word; a bead of sweat apppeared on her upper lip.

"And how did Susie react to that? Did she complain a lot?"

"Actually, no. Our interview concerning her medical history naturally brought out some details about the way she's been raised, and it appears that our Susie has very understanding and accepting parents." She noticed that Alice's face appeared flushed, and thought that her breathing had accelerated.

"So your treatment plan entails the use of what? daily enemas?"

"Something like that. I'll know more on Monday. It appears that Susie and her friends eat lunch regularly at Taco Bell, and Susie was the only one who had chicken tacos today, as opposed to the beef tacos ordered by her girlfriends. I just got off the phone with the health inspector, who promised me he'd swing by there before Monday."

"That would be a relief, wouldn't it, if it turned out to be something she'd eaten that disagreed with her?"

"Naturally--it would also explain the fever she had when she came in here." Again, she noticed Alice Tate's heightened breathing, flushed face, and general posture; she swore she could see the other woman's tongue practically hanging out. "Is there anything else?"

"In your professional capacity, would you mind checking me over? My bowels have been kind of sluggish lately, and I was hoping there was some advice or prescription you could give me."

"Sure--step behind the screen and put on a hospital gown." She turned away to pull a tube of K-Y jelly out of a drawer, remove a rectal thermometer and sterile protectors from a cabinet shelf, and was just turning back in the direction where Alice had been sitting when she saw Alice removing her top and pulling down the tight skirt she'd worn into the nurse's office.

"I see no reason to be modest, Laura Beamish. We're both adults here." As she dropped the skirt, picking it up to drape it across a chair with her top, she asked, "Should I take the panties off, too?"

"Of course, and your bra as well." Turning, Laura began unbuttoning the white, miniskirted nurse's uniform she wore. She was starting to get an idea what Alice Tate really wanted. Laura had a body that some would call buxom, but others might call it overripe, if they were being uncharitable. Huge, pendulous breasts emerged from above a deep midsection that was a bit rounded and not exactly cheerleader or model flat. Her hips were wide, flaring out from heavy, shapely but muscular thighs. As she turned back to face Alice, we saw that her buttocks were large, round, and fleshy. In point of fact, her figure was lush and round, what some might even call plump.

"Do you think I have a nice body, Laura?" Alice asked. Her breasts were small, high, and firm, and her flat belly emerged from narrow, almost boyish hips and lean thighs. One would have described her body as athletic.

"The men I see would say you're built for speed, Alice, while they tell me I'm built for comfort."

"Opposites attract," Alice said, reaching out to take Laura into her arms. They exchanged a deep soul kiss, then Laura patted Alice on the ass and pointed to the exam table.

"Position yourself on all fours, and spread your buttocks open so I can give you your rectal exam."

Alice kneeled with her head down on the table, the cheeks of her ass held wide apart by her slender hands. She almost seemed to be making a show of her spread-open nakedness, and we could see her labia glistening with arousal. Obviously attracted to Laura Beamish, her sides heaved as she waited to be examined.

Laura took her time, snapping an exam glove onto her right hand, putting K-Y on two fingers, and stepping over to the table. "Now, Alice, just relax. This shouldn't hurt a bit." She eased the middle finger up the advisor's slender behind, pushing it in as deep as it would go. "When was your last bowel movement?" She withdrew the finger, noting that the glove was lightly coated with brown, then slid both middle and index fingers up the slender brunette's bunghole.

"Probably Tuesday or Wednesday--I don't remember exactly when. Ooh--that feels really good."

"I get the impression that you're not exactly a virgin back there, Alice," Laura observed.

"No--my boyfriend and I frequently engage in anal intercourse. I can't take the pill, and he likes a tighter fit, anyway."

"Do you use condoms when you have intercourse per anum?"

"Sometimes, but not always. We've been monogamous for over a year."

"Ever been tested for HIV?"

"About two months after we started dating."

"So tell me about your diet, bowel habits, bowel training, anything you think might give me a clue as to why you're constipated today."

"Well, as a cheerleading coach, I have to maintain my slender figure. I eat a high protein diet, generally, and I know I don't eat enough fruits and vegetables, or enough fiber, to keep me regular. But I've always hated vegetables, and there are only a few fruits I actually like." She was breathing harder as Laura kept sliding the two gloved fingers in and out of her behind. "Ooh, that feels so nice."

"In simple fact, you probably preach healthy diets to your cheerleaders, yet you probably eat too much meat, avoid fruits and vegetables like the plague, don't eat enough fiber, and take your boyfriend's unprotected dick up your ass with what kind of frequency?"

"I don't know--probably at least four or five times a week."

"How's he hung?"

"When erect, he's about nine inches long and about two inches thick."

"You're a size queen, aren't you?"

"Kind of." We could see Alice Tate blushing as she answered this question.

"You realize, of course, that if you ate a more balanced diet, your boyfriend could dilate your anal sphincter with his big piece of meat as often as you both wanted, and you'd still shit regularly."

"Yes, but--"

"But with your present practice, all the anal sex you're getting just effectively pushes your stool back up your colon and makes it hard as cement." She looked at her watch. "I'm going to make a quick phone call, then I think you need some extreme therapy." An afterthought flashed through her mind. "We'll be here for at least a couple of hours, so you may need to call and cancel or postpone any immediate plans you have, too." She pulled her fingers from Alice's ass with a pop, threw away the glove, and reached for her phone, while Alice crossed the room to her purse and took out her cel phone.

When they finished their conversations, Laura beckoned Alice back to the exam table. "Lie on your left side, with your legs slightly apart and your arms relaxed. Are you sure you wouldn't like a hospital gown to put on? It might get a little chilly in here with the air conditioning on."

"I'm fine." She lay there in her aroused state of nudity as Laura busied herself preparing the same kind of soapy gusher she'd given Susie Quick an hour earlier. Once she had the bag ready to go, she hung it on an IV stand and wheeled the stand over to her examining table. "Now pull your buttocks apart so I can insert something."

"What are you inserting?" Alice's voice was raspy with desire and need.

"A inflatable nozzle nozzle to help you retain the solution that's going to break loose that big logjam of feces that I suspect is clogging up your colon."

"You sweet-talker. So I'm to receive an enema. And what exactly is the solution you're using, and how much is there?" Again, she couldn't keep the edge of desire from betraying itself in her voice.

"It's four quarts of 105o water, with two ounces of Castile soap mixed in. You'll be retaining it for at least ten minutes after it's all inside you. That will give it time to cleanse your colon pretty effectively."

"Damn, Nurse Beamish. That's a lot to take. Usually I just take a little Fleet enema before my boyfriend packs my pooper."

"Yeah--from your description of your habits I'm surprised you haven't developed appendicitis and had to be rushed to the emergency room. You probably have at least four or five pounds of undigested meat products rotting away in your colon." She eased the tip of the inflatable nozzle into Alice Tate's behind, pumping the inflator bulb until the balloon inside her was fully expanded. "Now just relax. I'm going to massage your stomach as the solution flows into you." She opened the clamp to release the steamy, soapy water, then stood facing her patient's back as she began to rub her abdomen slowly and gently, looking up at the bag periodically to check the solution's progress.

"Uhh," Alice grunted, clutching her middle.

"Cramps?"

"Yeah. How much is inside me?"

"About two quarts. Do you want to take a break?"

"Actually, I'd like to take a shit."

"Not yet." She closed the clamp. "I'll massage you more vigorously to stimulate bile flow. It's very important that this reaches every little hidden pocket in your colon so you'll be nice and clean inside." She began pushing more firmly into the slender woman's expanding middle, occasionally kneading her puffy gut vigorously to circulate the solution more thoroughly. Finally, she asked, "Ready?"

"Oh yeah," Alice said. "I have a question, Laura."

"Go ahead."

"Is it normal for patients to get sexually aroused from receiving enemas?"

"Men do almost invariably, although most are too embarassed to admit it. That's because of the proximity of the prostate gland to the anus. With women, it varies. Some women enjoy the fullness, finding it relaxing and soothing, while others find the whole process painful and distasteful. Some women, too, are very much in tune with analism, like you and Susie Quick and me. Such women are lucky indeed, because an enema administered under strict clinical conditions is the safest form of anal stimulation around." She continued her massage of Alice's roundly swollen abdomen as the rest of the solution flowed in.

Alice, for her part, had dropped all her masks, and was openly masturbating on the exam table. "Feels so good," she moaned, flicking her clitty button faster and faster as the rest of the soapy purge flowed into her body. Finally, she shrieked, "Coming!" and writhed on the table. Laura looked up to note that the bag was completely drained, closed the clamp, and bent over to lick the inside of Alice's thighs as the slender woman began masturbating to another climax.

"Ooh, that's nice," she said in response to the nurse's added stimulation. "I can't remember when I've enjoyed an enema so much." Her breathing became a rasp as a second climax overtook her, then she lay there panting, expectant.

"You realize that, once you release this load of suds, I'll have to rinse you out with clear water so you won't have cramps and diarrhea all weekend?"

"Of course."

"Furthermore, based on what you've told me of your dietary and medical history, you're an excellent candidate for routine high colonics. I'd like to give you one sometime this weekend, if you can spare a few hours."

"Will that help prevent me from developing appendicitis?"

"Absolutely. This treatment today might have dislodged a few ounces of undigested meat rotting somewhere in your colon, but I'm sure there's a lot more that needs to be flushed out."

"I could do it tomorrow afternoon, if that's convenient with you. Say, about two o'clock?"

"Perfect. You'll want to come over to my house, not here. I'll write the address on a business card while you're in the bathroom."

"I'm starting to feel a bit nauseous. Is that from the soap?"

"Yes--I guess I'd better let you release this load."

The camera panned to the bathroom attached to the nurse's office, to Alice Tate sitting on the john clutching her distended midsection. Her face was shiny with sweat, her short dark hair matted, as huge farting and gurgling sounds emanated from her stretched bowels. She hiccupped as her body struggled to release the soapy purge. Abandoning all self-restraint, she began to masturbate her clit as the water shot out of her with constant cramps. Although she felt dizzy and half-sick, she was relieved to be losing the toxic contents of her sluggish bowels. Halfway through her ordeal, there was a knock at the door. "Is that you, Nurse Beamish?"

"It is. May I come in?"

"Sure thing, if you can stand the smell in here."

"I've probably smelled worse." She entered the room, still dressed in a blue lace cutout bra and matching French-cut panties, pushing the rack with two four-quart bags filled with fresh clear warm water. "As soon as you've dumped the rest of your load, it's time for your rinse cycle." She knelt in front of her sweaty patient. "I'll massage your tum to make the rest of your expulsion go a little easier." She pressed firmly on the slender woman's still-bulging belly, causing the frequency of her farting to increase, ignoring the woman's continued finger action on her clitoris. After a few minutes, she kissed Alice Tate, letting her tongue slip inside the cheerleading advisor's open mouth. "Is this better?"

"Oh yeah--I think I've come about four times just since I sat down in here. I guess I owe you an apology, too, for being kind of defensive and hostile when you first began taking my medical history in your office."

"It's all right--too many people are really squeamish about discussing their bowel habits and hygiene. It's not surprising that the incidence of appendicitis and colo-rectal cancer are on the rise in the U.S., considering how uptight most Americans are about the lower end of the alimentary canal."

"I think I'm done, Laura. Can I get up and wipe myself?"

"Of course." She rose, wheeling the rack into position for Alice's rinse. In a few minutes, the tall slender brunette came over by her side, began running her hands through Laura's long red hair, and kissed her passionately, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce, shuddering hug.

"I'm ready for another gutful of warm water," she announced.

"Then get down on all fours near the rack, and I'll fix you right up."

As Alice dropped to her knees, she noted, "Hey, there are two bags hanging from the rack. What's the second one for?"

"That's for me--I'm going to join you so we can play with each other while our tummies are filling up."

"Cool," the cheerleading coach replied. She bent over on the floor, head down, and opened the cheeks of her ass. "Do me, Nurse Beamish. Enema me until I blow up like a balloon."

"A bit of an exaggeration, I think. But that will happen--tomorrow afternoon." She relubed the woman's rear, then took off her glove and lubed her own rear. After inflating both Inflatable nozzles, she dropped to her knees and opened both clamps, throwing her right arm companionably around Alice's waist. "You'll probably find this load rather soothing, after the abrasion from the soap in the first enema." She began to rub her patient's belly firmly yet gently, willing the water to reach into every hidden recess and dissipate the soap left in her colon. The gasping of Alice's clear arousal was music to her ears.

"Tell me, Laura, those extreme cramps I felt with the soapy solution, were they just from the soap?"

"Not entirely, no. Part of your reaction stemmed from the fact that the soap was dislodging pockets of gas trapped in various parts of your colon. When you don't eat enough fiber, undigested food and gas twist your colon into all sorts of weird bends and kinks; in these weird bends, pockets of gas get formed that don't always dislodge very easily. If you also have anal sex frequently, it exacerbates the problem."

"How's that?" She was shuddering through an orgasm as Laura moved her fingers to caress her labia and clit.

"You've experienced pussy-farts from conventional intercourse, haven't you?"

"Yeah, several times. It's so embarassing."

"But very natural. If the fit between the penis and vagina is snug, but still loose enough to allow for penetration and withdrawal without causing pain, air gets pumped in during every stroke. Same thing for penis and anus, or phallic sex toys in either orifice."

"So every time my boyfriend fucks me up the ass, he's also pumping in a lot of air?"

"Yes, which is why you need to eat more produce and fiber. The acids in the produce help your system produce enzymes that will break your food down more efficiently, and the fiber, while it might create more gas initially, actually helps to dissipate gas when it's doing its work." She returned her hand to Alice's roundly swelling middle, asking, "Are you getting full yet?"

"Starting to. Oh, yes, don't stop rubbing my tummy. I swear I could come just from having your warm hands on my inflated gut--it feels so soothing as I'm filling up with water." She shook and grunted in several more orgasms as the water slowly drained into her backside.

Finally, Laura looked up to note that both bags were empty, closed the clamps, and detached the Inflatable nozzles from the main hoses. Rolling to her left side, she took Alice in her arms and kissed her, fondling her small breasts as the other woman pawed at her huge ones. She inserted two fingers into the cheerleading coach's vagina as the other woman did the same loving service to her juicing cunt, and the scene faded with them rolling around on the bathroom floor making passionate love with their swollen abdomens jiggling sensuously.

"Hot stuff," Andy observed, and we all sighed in agreement. "I'm starting to get really crampy from all this barium and water inside my guts," she added. "Maybe we should release our purges."

"Good idea," Karen said, "and since I only have one toilet, we'll do it in the tub. We can masturbate each other while we're emptying." After turning off the TV and VCR, she led us back to the bathroom. We formed a daisy chain to deflate and pull one another's Inflatable nozzles, then sat on the edge of the tub with our fannies poised above the tub, rubbing each other's middles to hasten the process. We sat in the following arrangement: Karen on the far right, then me, then Tricia, with Andrea on the far left. Trish and Andy began passing their radioactive lavages almost as soon as they started getting their tummies rubbed, but Karen said, "I'm having trouble expelling, and I sure don't want to bust a gut. Could you --" she began, and I reached behind me for shampoo. Pouring some on the index and middle fingers of my right hand, I eased them into her rear. "Oh, thank you, lover," she gurgled, uttering a thunderous fart as she began passing her load, taking the excess soap from my fingers to goose my rear and help me expel.