Once we got started expelling, I began playing with Karen's and Tricia's pussies, rubbing hard on their clits; they reciprocated by taking turns fisting my shatteringly hard penis, while Andrea masturbated noisily and sloppily. Grunts and moans of passion punctuated the air in counterpoint to the evacuation noises issuing from four relaxed behinds. By the time we were all empty, all of the women had cum several times, and I myself had cum at least twice. Rinsing the milky solution from the tub, we started the shower and got under the steamy spray, hands lathering bodies and continuing our abandoned sex play until we all collapsed in exhaustion on the tub floor, the warm water turning cool before anyone thought to reach back and turn it off.

As we were drying off, Karen said, "I want to watch more of that video with you folks, unless you're too tired. Also, I want Andy and Trish to fuck us with dildo nozzles and five quarts of salty aphrodisiac water while we're watching more of the video."

"What about our pussies and assholes?" Andrea questioned jealously. "How do we get off?"

"Oh, we're gonna fill you two with vibrators and put you back in the same sweaty rubber panties you were wearing before we first invaded your butts this evening."

"Cool," Trish gurgled, her arms around Andy as she thrust a finger up the smaller woman's rear.

"We even have some special outfits we're going to wear when you two fuck us. Follow us into the bedroom and you can help us get dressed." She pushed me ahead, finger up my rear as the other women followed her. They carried their rubber panties and teddies as we traipsed into the bedroom. Opening a dresser drawer, Karen produced two abbreviated corsets with hook clasps lining them. "These are called `little middle' models, and they'll make our rumps look especially big when viewed bent over to receive your phallic and liquid love." She handed me one, asking, "Waist size thirty okay, dear?" I grunted as Trish began wrapping it around me from the rear, sliding the hooks into the clasps until my waist above my navel was sucked in tightly, causing my belly to bulge out roundly below my navel. Meanwhile, Andy was fastening Karen's size twenty- six around her waist, barely able to close the clasps because it constricted her waist so tightly.

"Voila," Karen said, spinning around so we could see how much the corset accentuated the size of her breasts and ass. I did a similar pirouette, gasping when Trish thrust two fingers up my dry anus.

"You folks look overripe already," Trish said, her voice steely with lust. "I can't wait to see your tummies get even bigger when we fuck you with those dildos and five quarts of water each." She patted my middle and Karen's after withdrawing her fingers from my tush. "I want to see you two pant and sweat as those corsets get tighter and tighter on you."

"Wait until you see the rest of our ensembles," Karen predicted. She opened a drawer and took out two pink bras with nipple cutouts, one of which she'd worn the night before. "Mine is a 38D, and I thought I'd make Paula a 38C, since his hips are a bit smaller." She removed a very realistic looking, jellylike set of breast forms. "These have real weight and substance, so you'll finally have tits, Paula." She held them against my chest, nodding to Andrea to assist her in fastening the bra. "I wouldn't lean too far forward until you get used to the weight; you might topple over." I was amazed at the feeling, noticing pressure on my back from the likelike weight of the imitation breasts.

"What do these things weigh--about ten pounds apiece?"

"Twelve, actually. They're the most realistic model I could find." Karen drew two pairs of pink lace crotchless panties from the drawer in which the bras and breast forms were stored. "Slip into these; that way we can have full genital contact while exposing our anuses to a dildo-fucking from Andy and Trish." I pulled my pair, size 38, up my hips as Andy helped adjust them for a proper fit, just as Trish was helping Karen with hers. "Are you ready with the camcorder, Trish?" Karen asked.

"Always." She fetched it from on top of Karen's vanity, turning it on and snapping footage of the two of us with our arms about each other's nipped-in waists, bellies swelling sensually below the excruciatingly tight corsets. Meanwhile, Andy was squeezing back into the tight rubber panties and teddy she'd worn earlier, stopping to insert a double-headed vibrating dildo that Karen had fetched for her from another drawer. The smaller, shorter probe went into her anus, while the larger, longer one went into her vagina. After checking the switch to ensure that the vibrator was operational, she turned it off and donned a crotch harness with a dildo nozzle already attached; she adjusted the leather straps tightly around her thighs and hips so she could thrust securely. Meanwhile, Karen was helping Trish prepare in the same manner, and when they were done, Trish set the camcorder up on a tripod, intent on moving it to the living room. We all trooped behind her, anxious to smoke more pot and let the fun begin.

Trish and Andy placed us on all fours in front of the TV; from that angle, the chubby brunette angled the lens of the camcorder so it would point at our buttocks, which we obligingly spread wide apart with our hands. While we maintained this position, the two went to the bathroom to fill our bags and mix the solution, then returned in a few minutes with the rack bearing two five-quart bags full of steaming water, salt, and aphrodisiac solution. "I have a feeling that these two girls need these enemas really bad. Look at how sluggish they are; all they can do is squat on the floor with their asses up in the air," Trish said for the video.

"Yeah," Andy seconded. "They must be sufferig from rectalitis or stomach flu or something. It's such a chore these days; we either have to give them big punishment enemas because they've been bad, or we have to give them medicinal lavages when they're sick. I'm almost beginning to think they like having big loads of fluid drained into their slutty assholes."

"Well, they won't be disappointed today, because they definitely have big loads coming from these rubber dicks we have at our crotches. And if one bag apiece isn't enough, we'll fill `em again and watch `em squirm." Trish handed Andy one of the two studded rubber paddles she was holding, and they began to pelt our tushes with considerable force, saying, "Their tushes do look pretty, but I think they'll be even prettier for the camera if they're a nice shade of pink."

I looked over at Karen as this was happening, and she smiled at me, mouthing the words, "I'm getting even hornier" as they paddled our asses nearly raw. Finally, they relented, and we rubbed our abused backsides, eager with anticipation for the next act of depravity.

"They both look like they need some serious lubrication," Andy began, reaching for a big jar of Vaseline.

"Yeah, we'd better grease `em up good so we won't have to work so hard penetrating their recalcitrant rumps." She bent over us, and said, "You two can hold each other and connect genitally, but I don't want to see any furious fucking movements until Andy and I are ready to fuck the two of you. Is that understood?"

Tears streaming from our eyes due to our bruised tails, we nodded, then rolled into each other's arms, Karen guiding my erect missile deep into her sweet woman place. She wrapped her legs around my thighs to draw me into her to the maximum depth, considering we were lying on our sides.

"Which one do you want?" Trish asked. "You get first pick since you look so cute in your rubber teddy and panties."

"I wanna fuck Paula," she opted. I felt her approach, then noted her warm breath on my back. "Such a tight little tushie; I can't wait to fill it up with my big dick. Now hold your cheeks apart, Paula; Mama's coming with just what the doctor ordered." I placed both hands on my bottom and separated the globes; half a second later I felt blunt pressure as Andy began to push the head of the dildo nozzle at my tight sphincter. At first there was resistance, and then, pushing harder, she opened me up further and rammed all the way in with the eight inches of the ersatz phallus. I felt completely filled, and I enjoyed the fullness so much I pushed even further into Karen's vagina.

"How do you like my dick?" Andrea asked, moving in and out slowly, stretching my bunghole and exciting my prostate with the relentless invasion. "Am I hurting you, or do you just feel full?"

"No, sweet Mistress Andrea. It feels good--so filling. Every time you move it in and out it makes my little peter-clit tingle."

"Good--it will feel even better when he starts to come inside your slutty bottom." She began moving in and out of me faster and faster. "Oh, your rear is so nice and tight for me--the friction is divine. Ooh--aah--uhh- I think I'm gonna come soon."

Trish was engaging in a similar routine with Karen, saying, "Your bunghole is stretching just enough to give my peter a good snug fuck. I'm surprised because I thought your slutty rear would be looser. Are you having fun yet?"

"God, yes," Karen gasped. "Fuck me with that thing."

"Good--now move your ass a little faster so I can come inside you." Both women began to pump in and out of us faster, making panting sounds like they were about to come. "I'm getting ready to come into your nasty bottom, Karen," Tricia growled. "Are you ready to have your ass pumped full of my come?"

"Oh, yes--give it to me! I know that I'll come when you come." Trish opened her clamp to deliver the load of steaming water into Karen's wide-stretched rear end.

"I'm getting ready to come into your slut's back passage, too," Andrea gasped. "Are you ready to feel my come deep in your guts?"

"Yessss!" I hissed, wiggling my ass to meet her attacks. She opened the clamp and I felt the steaming water begin to enter my tail, gasping because it was a little warmer than I'd expected. "Feels so good," I groaned. "I hope you weren't lying to me about that vasectomy, Master Andy, because I don't want to be pregnant."

Getting into the spirit of the thing, Andy snarled: "Fuck the vasectomy. When I fuck a slut she gets pregnant, period." She kept slamming the dildo in and out of me as my belly began to puff further and further outward. I began to hiccup as I felt fuller and fuller, lightheaded from the heat of the water rocketing into my colon. Andy's hands were mauling my asscheeks roughly, too, grabbing and squeezing them so hard I thought she'd rip my asshole apart. Karen, meanwhile, was getting her ass pummeled and her bowels filled in a similar manner by Trish.

"What do you mean, you don't want to be pregnant, slut Karen? If you'll look down, you'll see that I'm so potent your flabby belly is already starting to swell bigger and bigger. And it's gonna get a lot bigger before we're done." She nodded to Andy, who just giggled.

I looked into Karen's eyes, a fearful expression on my face. She looked over at the medical rack, directing her eyes downward, then looked back at me fearfully, mouthing the words, "Another round, it looks like."

Trish and Andy began picking up their fucking pace even faster, their motions causing me and Karen to rock with fucking motions of our own, until with a sigh we both exploded in orgasm. "What's that?" Tricia snarled. "I didn't give you two sluts permission to come." To Andy, she said, "I guess they do need to get a lot more pregnant in order to learn to follow orders. Bring me a pitcher of fresh hot water." Andy lifted one of the three-quart models from the bottom shelf of the rack and handed it to her, then took a second and began pouring it in my bag. "And to think that I was naïve enough to believe that five quarts apiece was enough to wash those lustful desires out of your hearts? Well, prepare for some excruciating cramps, because your slightly pregnant tummies are going to get closer and closer to delivery." She opened her clamp to let more steaming water flow into Karen's stretched belly, as Andrea performed the same torture on me.

In spite of the extreme pressure in our bowels (we would soon be holding two gallons of fluid each), Karen and I were horny again; I felt my erection stirring to life inside her compressed, slick, hot vagina. I looked into her eyes and saw a devilish grin as a moan escaped her lips. The motion of the fake phalluses in our rears felt heavenly, too; we were both reamed out enough so that the fullness felt caressing, not intrusive. "You fuck me so good, Mistress Tricia," Karen groaned. "I love the way you open my behind with your fleshy spear, then impregnate me from the smelliest hole in my body."

"Mistress Andrea," I moaned, "don't stop fucking me with that big cock. I love the way you fill me, and I love the way your come keeps squirting into my empty belly. But I hope you're not gonna stop soon, because I still don't feel very pregnant." Karen looked at me as if I'd gone insane, and I just flashed her a look that said, "Bear with me, hon."

"Of course not," Andy said, slowing her fucking motions to reach for another pitcher of water. She pulled partway out of me, rising just enough to pour three more quarts into the bag, then dropping to slam the appendage in and out of me as the water kept pouring in. By this time, my gut was fully inflated; I could feel it pressing dangerously against Karen's swollen middle. Trish had also drained a second pitcher into her bag, and Andy noted this, saying with some pleasure in her voice, "By the time we finish this come, even if we don't top off the bags again, they'll be about five to six months along; a fair weight gain, twenty-two pounds apiece."

My mental calculator went into overdrive, and I realized that we were on our way to holding eleven quarts of water apiece. Against the tightness of the `little middle' style corsets, this had brought us dangerously close to the point of rupture, and I refrained from asking to look any more pregnant.

"We're going to take some of this stuff back into the bathroom, so we can all relax on the couch and watch more of that video when we return. We'll leave our dicks in your rears with the harnesses holding them in." A sound of opening snaps alerted me to the fact that they were bringing the straps around our hips and thighs, and I knew they were going to make mine, and possibly Karen's, too tight around the thighs, but I wanted so badly to hold this load while we watched more of the ultra-kinky, highly erotic, video. When the straps were in place, they wheeled the rack back toward the bathroom.

"What are you, nuts?" Karen demanded. "With the constriction around our waists, we don't really need to be holding nearly three gallons of water each." Her expression softened, as I gently worked my dick in and out of her spasming pussy. "But it does make me really horny, and the heavy humiliation in my belly compresses my pussy so that your penis feels absolutely gigantic inside me."

"I've got so much pressure on my prostate that I feel as if I could fuck you and Trish and Andy all night long and still be rarin' to go at eight a.m." I slid in and out of her, hearing her gasp in orgasm yet again, and then again, and then I was firing the second load of come I'd fired into her belly since Andy and Trish had begun the love enemas on us forty-five minutes earlier. We cuddled and hugged and caressed each other as we waited for their return, our hands finally coming to rest on each other's buttocks.

"Isn't that sweet?" Trish observed as they returned. "They've probably come again while we were in the john, and now they're resting just like two chimps in the zoo." They helped us sprawl on the loveseat, my awakening penis in Karen's vagina from the rear, with her sitting on my lap. Trish took control of the remote as Karen and I enjoyed the delicious sensations of being joined with explosive bellyfuls of solution still locked inside our stretched colons. "Time to turn the vibrators on high," she announced, reaching for her control stuck up in the top of her teddie, turning Andy's to high at the same time, then thrusting her tongue into Andy's mouth and beginning a gentle massage of the petite redhead's apple-like breasts that was soon returned to Trish's large, pneumatic mammaries.

On the screen, Laura Beamish was still in her office, slipping a form-fitting white satin top and a skintight pair of stonewashed blue jeans onto her full-figured, plump, overripe body. She struggled to get the jeans up over her wide hips, then sucked in her breath deeply as she struggled to get the waist buttoned and the fly zipped. She eased her feet into sandals with one- inch heels, arranged her purse on her shoulder, took out her keys, turned off the lights to her office and locked the door, and walked jauntily out to the parking lot, Reubenesque buttocks working like two wildcats trying to fight their way out of a gunnysack. She unlocked the driver's door of a fire-engine red Corvette Stingray, let herself in, and tooled the car down the street, stopping once at an adult bookstore to buy several bottles of anal lubricant and browse through the sex toys, select what she wanted, pay for her purchases, and drive home.

Once inside the door, she kicked off her sandals, pulled two large deep-dish pizzas from the freezer, set the oven at the proper temperature, and put the pizzas in to bake. Then she undid the waistband and fly of her jeans, went into the bathroom to start a tub of steaming water, shook a copious amount of bath salts into the water, and filled a six-quart bag with the steaming water, running it scalding hot so it would be at the proper temperature when she was through eating her supper. Then she eased the tight jeans off over her hips, shrugged out of the top, placed the clothing into her laundry hamper, and returned to the living room, snagging her cordless phone and dialing a number from memory. When a deep male voice answered on the other end, she asked, "John?"

His affirmative drew further conversation from her. "I'm just getting home, running a hot bath, and have two supreme combo pizzas in the oven. Why don't you come over with some of your herbal medicine and we'll eat pizza and spend a quiet evening." His affirmative drew an afterthought, "And stop by the Pussy Palace--you know the place, sex shop on Roundtree--and see if they have any klismaphilia or anal sex videos we haven't seen yet. Yeah, get two or three, maybe four if there's a weekend special. I'll reimburse you when you get here." She shut off the cordless, retracted the antenna, and went in to her bath.

She twisted the taps closed, removing her nippleless bra in a sensual leisurely manner, and then snugged the skintight panties down off her opulent hips. Turning with her back to the camera, she spread her asscheeks so that we could see the wrinkled, slightly stretched, hole between them. A side shot showed her caressing her huge breasts and round belly, then her hands trailed downward to bury themselves in her crotch. She was holding this posture when she stepped into the tub, wincing because the water was slightly hotter than she'd intended. She sank back into the silken suds, masturbating lazily as the water eased all the tension from her body. Once she'd come to a shattering climax, her grunts and moans and sharp gasps filling the soundtrack, she knelt in the tub, a handful of bubbles in one hand, and slid a soapy finger up her magnificent rump, fucking it in and out to bring herself to yet another blinding orgasm. She sank back into the tub and rolled around sensuously for several minutes before opening the drain and rising to dry herself. She'd just made it into a diaphanous robe when the doorbell rang. Scurrying to the front of her house, she looked through the spyhole, then opened the door and replied, "Come on in, John. Will you do me a favor and check the pizzas while I go put on something a little less revealing?" She swung away from him, voluptuous fanny bouncing as she retreated to her bedroom for a sexy outfit.

When she returned, clad in a red satin bra with nipple cutouts, red satin crotchless panties, a red satin waist-cinching garterbelt securing black textured silk stockings, covered with a miniskirted black satin cocktail dress, feet in low-heeled sling pumps, John had taken the pizzas out of the oven and was busy cutting them. He handed her a lit bowl of marijuana, from which she took a huge hit, then handed it back to him. As he served several slices apiece onto their plates, the camera zoomed back for a closer look at John. He was a slender, aesthetic-looking man of about average height, but the camera didn't lie about the huge bulge in his khaki-colored Dockers. "It appears you're happy to see me," she noticed. "I'm glad you brought all your appetites."

"It was good of you to call me. I haven't dated anyone recently, because I've been so busy at work, and I needed to relax for a while."

"Relaxation is hardly the word I'd use, but I'm glad you were free and not tied up with some other horny woman who needed your dick so bad she could taste it."

He chuckled, following her into the living room with a plateful of pizza in one hand and his bowl in the other. "I could only find three new movies that looked really hot: Bondage Suspension Enemas III, Nuns and Hoses VII, and Booty Bordello V . Which one do we want to watch first?"

"How about Nuns and Hoses VII? I haven't seen any of that series yet." He pulled the tape out of its phase box, then exclaimed, "Damn--it looks like it's only about half rewound."

"I'll get us a couple of beers while you rewind it." She sashayed into the kitchen, her big, sexy bottom swaying voluptuously.

Nuns and Hoses VII, subtitled "Novices' Revenge," began with a flashback to the previous title, Nuns and Hoses VI: "Mother Superior's Penance," and took up the adventures of the two novices she'd forced to take five-quart Castile soap lavages repeatedly in that other feature, usually with holy water added to the purges, in penance for sneaking out of the convent to have anal sex with young acolytes who hadn't yet taken final vows at the monastery half a mile away. As they'd bent their bottoms over to take the brutal extended purges (in some cases being required to retain them for as long as two hours at a stretch), receiving them through large nozzles shaped like crucifixes, they'd vowed they'd get their revenge on the Mother Superior. With this flashback, the video leaped into the present.

From some unknown source, Francesca, the blond, voluptuous novice, had gotten hold of a two- gallon, British Army Hospital-style enema can, with a thick, one-inch hose attached to it, ending in a nozzle shaped like a Gothic arch that tapered inward where it connected to the hose. She hid the package under her bed until Clarissa came into their two-bed cell, then, closing the door and securing it with a heavy chair of unfinished wood, motioned silently for her slender, red- headed fellow novice to come look. "What is it?" Clarissa whispered, then gasped, "Ohmygod!" What are we going to do with it?"

They exchanged whispers, hatching a plan to catch the Mother Superior after Vespers, when she made the long walk from the chapel to her private cell. When the bell rang for dinner, they went quietly to the dining hall, filing in with the rest of the novices in an orderly manner, sitting quietly and meditatively, and eating their late meal without incident. Since it was their monthly turn at kitchen duty, they stayed past their usual time to help the seasoned nuns clean up the kitchen after all the dishes had been washed and stacked to dry, then they sneaked out with a small container of dish detergent, hid it in their cell, and went on to Vespers.

At this point, Laura and John were through the first pizza, so she paused the video while they hurried to the kitchen for more pizza and fresh beers. When they returned, they sat side by side on the couch, her left foot in his lap stroking his erection through his khaki Dockers. They returned to the video as they stuffed their faces with more pizza, pausing to take an occasional hit from the bowl.

The end of Vespers saw the sisters and novices exiting the chapel in a quiet manner, all except for Clarissa and Francesca, who had hidden in the confessional. As the Mother Superior turned to leave the chapel, they rushed out behind her, put a cloth hood over her head, and dragged her to the communal shower not far from their cell. They divested her of her habit, still hoodwinked, stripped her of her undergarments to reveal her roly-poly middle-aged body, and tied her wrists and ankles as they laid her on her left side on the shower floor. Then Francesca ran to get her steel enema can with the special oversized nozzle, plus the container of detergent, returned to the shower, and began filling it with steaming water and mixing in the caustic soap. Clarissa lifted the hood to gag the Mother Superior, whose face took on a look of outrage and then fright at discovering the identity of her two captors. When Francesca brought the curiously-shaped nozzle into her visual field, the tubby little nun grew white as a sheet.

Lubing the nozzle with more of the soap, Francesca eased it into her rear, not stopping until it was buried with only the tapered fitting adjacent to the hose exposed. In this manner it served as a makeshift butt plug, not allowing any slippage until one of the novices tugged good and hard to extract it from Mother Superior's bottom hole. As Clarissa opened the clamp, Francesca began a rough massage of Mother Superior's large, tubby middle, lecturing her about all the brutal purges she'd given them for the sin of sodomy. We noticed Laura and John soul-kissing on the couch as the lecture continued in the background. He inched his hand underneath the back of her dress, and her sudden grunt informed us that he'd succeeded in penetrating her lustful asshole with a probing finger. Their embrace heated up, then they turned their attention back to the video.

By the time the camera had panned back to the shower, Francesca was kneading Mother Superior's expanding belly flesh brutally hard, at times even punching into it with her fist. We heard her say, "We'll get those sluggish old bowels moving if it's the last thing we do." The older nun coughed and began to hiccup from the soapy flusher pouring into her behind, and her already tubby middle seemed to have expanded by nearly a foot. Clarissa, meanwhile, was opening and closing the clamp on the hose, determined to make the treatment last for the maximum possible time. A gauge on the bag showed that there were two quarts left, and then Francesca lectured the Mother Superior a final time. "What's the sense of giving us enemas as penance for having anal sex with the acolytes? Didn't you think that would just intensify our lust to get our puckerholes probed? The point is this, Mother Superior. We're going to fill the can again, with steamy clear water to rinse you out, then we're leaving the convent, for good. If you try to follow us, or give word of what we've done to anyone, our parents, the council that runs this convent, teachers, anyone, we'll tell them all about your perverted tricks up here on Convent Hill." By this time the can was empty, and Clarissa took off the cover and ran two gallons of warm clear water into it, hanging it securely on the old-fashioned shower nozzle before they scampered away, packed their personal items in hobo bindles, and fled the convent in the darkness of night.

John had helped Laura pull her dress over her head, and he whistled when he saw her fat nipples sticking through the cutouts in her bra, bringing his mouth nearer to suck them to bursting erection. Then he kissed down her plump belly, inserting his tongue into her deep navel in a way that caused a shiver to run through her body and a gasp to escape from her lips. Finally, he reached her uncovered pubic mound, taking her labia into his mouth and twisting them and nuzzling them with his teeth, before he began flicking his tongue rapidly against her three-inch, fully-engorged clitoris. She spasmed against his face within seconds, then he turned her over, tracing his tongue along her sides and then making wet circles around her buttocks, until he finally zeroed in on his target, her slightly distended asshole. As he was about to penetrate it with his tongue, she said, "Not yet, John. You know how spicy pizza forces everything into my descending colon. Let me cleanse myself, then you can pay homage to my fat fanny all night long."

"As long as I get to watch," he said with a wicked chuckle.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She led him into the bathroom, broad ass twitching and swaying to her own internal erotic rhythms.

She knelt in the tub, pointing to the already-filled bag. John opened the clamp for a moment to burp the air out of the line, closed it, and asked, "What kind of lube should I use on your bottom tonight?"

"I'm a little sore from a hot load I took with the cheerleading coach in my office this afternoon. How about some aloe vera cream?"

"Great," he replied, reaching into the medicine cabinet for the cool lubricant. Opening it to take a big blob on the index and middle fingers of his left hand, he said, "It would sure help if your could get your fannycakes a little further open," as she spread her big round buttocks wide to receive his probing fingers. He thrust the middle finger in as deep as it would go, pulled it out, sniffed it, and remarked, "You're right--your lower bowel is a bit impacted. That's surprising considering that you probably took what--four quarts? six quarts?--just a couple of hours ago." He then eased both lubed fingers up her behind, pulled them out, wiped them on bath tissue after lubing the nozzle (a giant hospital style peartip model an inch and a half wide at the business end), and brought it up to her rear. "Are you ready, sweetcakes?" She spread her buttocks even wider, grunting with satisfaction as he pushed the nozzle steadily inside her. He worked it in and out, fucking her with it for a few minutes, watching her vaginal moisture drip onto the tub floor, until she lost patience with him:

"Please open the clamp; I really need to be flushed out now," she moaned, wiggling her rear as she waited lustfully for the hydraulic invasion.

"With pleasure," he replied, opening the clamp to send the steamy water into the dark and distant reaches of her colon. Within minutes, gurgling sounds emanated from her plump abdomen, and her hand was busy in her crotch, causing him to chuckle, "I swear you take enemas and colonics more because they make you feel sexy than because you need them for your digestive health."

"Do you object to that?"

"Hell, no. I think it's really sexy. And one of the reasons it's sexy, at least in your case, is that it prepares your body and soul for the invasion of my big dick." He began a gentle massage of her abdomen, which had swollen to nearly double its size from the nearly six quarts she held inside her. "How are you doing, lover? Are you ready to sit on the pot yet?"

"No--I think I need more. Will you run water in the tub, just a little above body temperature, and fill the bag again? You can even leave the bag hanging on the tub tap in case you think I need more than a second bagful." She looked into his eyes with a blissful smile on her face, a smile that always warmed him up and made his erection throb even harder than it already did.

"With pleasure." He ran water in the tub (conscious that he was getting her wet and would probably be soaked himself by the time they crawled into her king-sized waterbed), adjusted it to the proper temperature, and held the bag under the tap, filling it to the top, then raising it with his hands, standing so it was at chest level to him and could flow in faster. He left the water running.

"Oh, that's so good," she gasped. "Fill my slutty tummy--make me shake with passion and utter consuming fullness." He watched the bag drain into her bowels, noting that she was beginning to look more than a little pregnant, refilled the bag a last time, and hung it on the shower curtain rod, then got back on his knees and began to massage her rapidly-expanding gut. "How many times did you refill the bag?"

"Only twice--when you finish this load, you'll have four and a half gallons of water in your bursting belly." He kneaded her belly flesh harder, bringing belches from her, causing dangerous- sounding rumbles and gurgles to emanate from her fully-inflated middle.

"Oh, God--so full," she gasped. "I may have to shit in the tub, dear. I don't think I can make it to the toilet."

"I'll help you," he said, abating in his rigorous assault on her abdomen, looking up to check the progress of the third round of posterior drinks. "This one's just about done." He closed the clamp, helped her to her feet, and settled her in a squat over the toilet, just before he slid the oversized nozzle gently from her rear. A huge fart thundered from her bottom, and he pressed gently against her belly as she began to pass a noisy flood of waste.

"That was the best enema a guy has ever given me. Most men do not have the touch. I think I'll need to rest a bit, but then my asshole should be ready to take as much hard pounding and as many hot loads of cum as you want to give it." She belched as she continued to void herself of the huge load of water, shaking in orgasm whenever his fingertips wandered to her inch-long nipples or downward to her fully-erect clitty button.

And when it was done, he dried her bottom tenderly, following it up with a baby wipe to make her kissing sweet. They went into the bedroom, lay down in each other's arms, and fondled each other until his erection returned. The video showed their first anal sex scene, with her on her back, knees pulled up to her chest, as he pounded into her with a dick at least a foot long and probably close to two and a half inches thick. She did scream in ecstasy during almost every thrust, and that was enough to fire all of us up, Karen bouncing up and down on my lap, with me kneading her stuffed belly and rubbing her engorged clitty, while Trish and Andy soul-kissed like crazy and pawed each other's breasts while the inserted double-prong vibrators did the rest of the work for them. We all exploded into ecstasy, turned off the video, and limped to the bathroom where we put Trish and Andy on the tub floor, turned on the shower, and removed our dildo nozzles to bathe them in watery shit before we rinsed off, scrubbed down, rinsed again, and returned to the livingroom fully nude to smoke another bowl and watch another segment of the amazing video.

The next scene showed Laura and John, early the next morning, waking to the sound of birds chirping. John woke first, his erection stirring against her soft, plump ass, reaching his hand around to cup her vulva and insert two fingers deep inside. She woke then, turning in her half- conscious state to kiss him, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth as she fondled his erection lazily. "That was so nice last night," she gasped breathily. "I want you in my ass again, pounding me until my guts fall out. I just love the way your big dick fills me until I'm afraid it will come out my mouth." Rolling over on top of him, her crotch against his erection, she trailed kisses down his chest, then directed his hands to her ass. "Please open me up and make me your anal slave again, lover."

"Rear view?" he inquired, and she turned her body so that her back was to him, rising on her knees so that her buttocks hovered just inches above his mighty erection. She slipped down so that her sopping cunt was impaled on his raging manhood, then rose, moving up and down until his cock was thoroughly drenched with her hot juices. He then dipped three fingers of his right hand into her wide-open honeypot, coating them with her natural lubricant, and eased them one by one into her rear. Karen and I, seated on the loveseat with her on my lap, aped their every move, and I was soon sliding three fingers easily in and out of her behind. From somewhere, Trish and Andy had found two double-headed dildos, and they sat facing each other on the couch, necks craned to watch the video, with one dildo connecting their glistening cunts and the other plunging in and out of their well-lubed assholes.

Meanwhile, on the TV screen, Laura lowered herself slowly onto John's meaty monster, the walls of her anus stretching to take him inside her. Grunting like a pig, she sank down on his erection, then rose, so the camera showed her with her bottom hole split wide open. (Karen had just impaled her asshole on my dick, and I moaned with the delicious tightness wrapping itself around my erection.) Laura's wide bottom, white and plump but shading into pink near the stretched star of her opened sphincter, moved slowly up and down on John's mighty engine, guttural moans and howls escaping her throat as she rose and fell faster and faster on the monster that must have torn her apart. At this point, he grabbed her hips, fingernails digging brutally hard into the soft flesh of her buttocks, and began slamming her up and down on his dick to the point that she screamed in ecstasy and he groaned in utter consummation, lifting her off his dick just before he shot a huge load of semen all over her back and buttocks. The camera faded into the next scene.

By this time, John had left Laura's apartment. The phone rang, and she picked it up, cradling the cordless between her chin and right shoulder as she struggled to screw the top on a bright red five-quart sitdown bag she'd wrestled to the center of the bathtub. "Oh, hi, Alice. Of course we're still on for the colonic this afternoon. What am I doing? Well, I had a visit from an occasional lover last night, a guy with a really huge dick, and he was in and out of my ass so many times from about eight p.m. until two a.m. that my colon is just chockablock with gas today. It didn't help that he had me sitting on his dick at nine a.m., either. Usually, I hit the john that time of the morning, so whatever didn't get flushed out of me with that eighteen-quart enema he gave me before we got started last night only got pushed higher up into my colon." She listened to Alice's amazed exclamations, and said, "That's right--eighteen quarts. It's a new record for me. I think it's a psychological thing--first I heard Susie yesterday telling me about erotic enema scenarios she and her boyfriend Dave had read about in a sex digest, then John came over with his foot- long dick." She listened some more, then replied, "Whether or not you get addicted to enemas is up to you. I find them always relaxing, sometimes erotic, sometimes sexy in a masochistic way, and sometimes only a relief to stress my body has endured over dietary lapses. Yes, I suppose one can develop a sluggish colon if one overindulges. But, if you're in tune with your body, you'll know when to back off." She listened to Alice's next question, giggled, and replied, "No, I don't think regular use of enemas will turn you into an anal sex addict, unless you already are an anal sex addict. Two o'clock still? Good--I'll see you then. Oh, before I forget it, Alice, could you run by the school campus, have the janitor let you into my office, and bring over a box of rubber exam gloves. I seem to be out of them. Okay, thanks. See you in a few hours."

She turned off the cordless, finished screwing the nozzle top onto the sitdown bag, lubed it, tucking some lube into her fanny hole, and squatted over the bag, crossing her legs Indian-style as she sank slowly onto the bag and the weight of her body forced the warm liquid up into her bowels. "Ah, the pause that refreshes," she quipped, running images through her mind of filling the bag again, but knowing that she'd have to release this before she could do that, and cursing the awkwardness of such elaborate equipment. In the meantime, she sat there enjoying the fullness in her belly, a fullness that was a far cry from the crampy pain she'd felt with the first enemas she'd taken when she'd started nursing school fifteen years earlier.

She was more slender then, full-figured but with little excess flesh on her body except for her disproportionately large breasts. She was a virgin, too, raised in a strict fundamentalist household. The first semester, her instructor told her and her classmates they'd probably have a completely different attitude toward the complexities of dating and sex and love by the end of the semester. At first she hadn't believed the woman, a veteran of twenty years in the profession. Then, at Hallowe'en, she'd met a young man and had fallen head over heels in love with him. They dated for about three weeks, but when she still hadn't surrendered her virginity to him the week before Thanksgiving, he dropped her like a hot potato, refused to return her calls, and would cross to the opposite side if he saw her walking down the street. When she walked into her nursing intro class the week following the holiday, her professor knew instantly that something was wrong.

Tearfully, she told the middle-aged woman what had happened, and her professor advised her to visit her during her office hour, later that same day, so they could talk and attempt to clarify her feelings of loss and rejection. When later came, talking did help somewhat, but she still cried more than she talked about her feelings. Taking pity on her, her professor invited her over to supper that evening.

Supper was a feast more sumptuous than anything the girl had ever been exposed to; her professor offered her a glass of wine, which Laura at first refused, then took a sip and decided she'd live a little dangerously. After dining leisurely and sipping a few more glasses of wine, Laura was relaxed, giddy from the wine, and open for suggestions. Her professor hugged her hard, then kissed her, and that night marked Laura's acceptance of her own bisexuality. That night also marked Laura's initiation into her own anal eroticism. While she and her girlfriends had already practiced giving each other enemas, she'd found the practice distasteful because she always cramped up so quickly; when one of her girlfriends commented to her about the erotic potential attaching to the practice, Laura had made a face and walked away. But the night at her professor's house was different. After that non-threatening hug and the first exploratory kiss from her professor, Laura had melted in the older woman's arms, returning her kisses with a feverish passion she'd never felt with her insistent but insensitive boyfriend. The woman led Laura back to her bedroom, and they lay down in each other's arms, finding the secrets of one another's bodies delightful and comforting. After tonguing Laura's vagina and clitoris, bringing her to several orgasms, she turned the young woman over on her stomach, kissing down the expanse of her back and finally centering on her buttocks, then on the dark circle of her anus. At first, Laura was repulsed and tried to squirm away, but the woman told her to relax, and gently nipped her soft buttocks with her teeth, running her tongue along the crack of Laura's ass, and gently brushing against the wrinkled star of her forbidden place with the gentlest motion of her tongue. This time Laura was ready, and when the woman began to worm her tongue inside, she moaned in ecstasy, shuddering through a monumental orgasm before she could predict that it would happen.

These thoughts occupied Laura as she sat on the red bag, her middle swollen three inches with the intake of water, until a slight cramping seized her. She levered herself slowly to her feet, held her buttocks closed with both hands, and hobbled carefully to the toilet. As she sat there voiding her colon noisily, farting frequently from the gas dislodged by the lavage (gas that had formed from the air pumped inside her by John's randy dick the night and morning before), she reflected on the first enema her professor had given her, about six weeks after that first dinner.

Laura had walked into the classroom the second week of spring semester, moving half doubled over because her menstrual cramps were especially painful this time around. She usually sat in the front row of seats, but this time she sat as far back in the room as she could get. When her professor walked in, she raised an eyebrow when she noticed how far away from her lectern her favorite student was sitting. Somehow she made it through class without passing out, but when she tried to duck out the door, the professor took her arm and said, "Laura, what's wrong? Did I do something to offend you or make you angry?"

"No--I just got my period, and my cramps are the worst I've ever had." She clutched her middle as she said this, her words more or less an agonized croak. "I think I'd better go back to my dorm and lie down."

"Should I contact your advisor and tell her to contact your professors so you'll be excused for your absences today?"

"That would be super. God, I wish I knew how to get rid of this achey feeling."

"Maybe I can help. My office hour is over at two today. I can swing by your dorm and take you over to my house for a little TLC if you'd like."

"That sounds nice, but I don't feel very sexy right now."

"TLC isn't about sex, my dear. It's about comfort and feeling better." She patted Laura's hand and said, "I'll see you a little after two."

That was at ten a.m. After Laura limped over to her dorm, she slept fitfully until the head resident knocked on her door at 2:15. "There's a professor of yours here to see you. How are you, sweetie?"

"Absolutely lousy. My period is killing me."

"That sucks." She walked away as the professor entered.

"Are you ready?"

"I've gotta grab tampons, pads, fresh panties, and my bag. Oh, and a coat--it's cold outside, isn't it?"

"Thirty above, and it's starting to snow."

Laura got her things together, followed her professor out to the older woman's `84 New Yorker, and they drove to her house. Once they got inside, the professor showed her where to put her things, drew her into a deep hug, and led her into the bathroom.

"When I get all bloaty and crampy from my period, I find that nothing will bring me back into the pink more quickly than getting all those toxins out of my body."

"Are you talking about an enema?" Laura's voice was horrified. "I hated the enema unit in practicum last semester; every time one of the other students would start giving me one, I'd cramp up so fast it was all I could do to get to the toilet without making a huge mess."

"Actually, I'm talking about a particular type of enema called a high colonic, a very deep enema that will wash the toxins out of the whole length of your colon, not just the bottom foot or so of it." She hugged Laura gently, then massaged her crampy middle very tenderly, whispering, "It will make you feel a lot better, and I promise it will get rid of your cramps, not create more."

"Do you promise it won't hurt?"

"Of course, my dear. You will feel rather full, after awhile, but it's a very pleasant fullness that will relax you and relieve you."

"Okay, I'll try it. But if it starts to hurt, or gives me that crampy, panicky feeling, I'll want to quit, and not ever hear another word about it."

"Promise. Why don't you get undressed while I take my equipment out of storage?"

Laura had undressed then, sitting on the toilet to remove her bloody tampon and insert a fresh one. When her professor came back, she was carrying a huge bag with a long tube attached to the main hose from the bag. "That's a funny-looking enema bag. Where's the nozzle?"

"There is no nozzle, just this long red tube connected to the other hose."

"And how much of that tube do you have to stick inside me?"

"All of it, or as much as possible." Seeing Laura's look of consternation, she explained, "I couldn't stick it all up inside you at once, even if I wanted to. I'll walk you through it, but basically, I insert the tube about six inches up your rear, turn on the flow, and gradually ease it in so it makes the bend into your descending colon, then up and across into your transverse colon, and finally down into your ascending colon. The whole procedure will take an hour or more, especially if I have to fill the bag again."

"Again? That bag looks like it holds at least a gallon! Were you planning to make my bowels explode or something?" A shudder ran through her, and she fought the instinct to run as far and fast as she could.

"No--I think you'll actually find it very pleasant, once you relax into the feelings of fullness and, as they say, go with the flow."

"Okay, but I'm still not sure about this." The woman had placed Laura facedown on a rubber sheet in the middle of the bathroom floor, lubed her behind gently, and inserted a few inches of the tube into her fundament, insisting that the girl hold her rear end open until she got the tube well started. The first few ounces that flowed in made her heart beat madly, but then she noticed that the warm water entering her bowels actually felt good, so she relaxed, nearly in a doze by the time the veteran nurse ran more warm water in the tub and refilled the bag. "How far in me is the tube?"

"All but maybe three inches. You've been a very cooperative patient. How does your tummy feel?"

"Just a teeny bit full, but my cramps are practically gone."

"I'm going to give you some more water, just to make sure you're washed out thoroughly. If you start to feel too full, like you're about to burst or something, tell me and we'll stop the flow and sit you down on the toilet." She opened the clamp, at the same time massaging Laura's belly with the gentlest touch the young woman had ever felt. She did begin to feel bloated, and when she finally asked for the toilet, she looked up to see that the bag was nearly empty.

"Do you mean that I have almost eight quarts, nearly two gallons, of water sitting inside my tummy?"

"Yes, isn't it amazing? You're a very good patient, Laura. Let's get you on the john." She helped the girl over to the porcelain throne, gently easing the tube from her rear, ever so slowly. Before it was out all the way, Laura had convulsed in about three orgasms. "I guess I made a believer out of you," the woman quipped. Laura just rocked back and forth, not believing how good it felt inside her as the tube was slowly eased out of her colon.

These thoughts occupied her as she finished up on the pot, wiped herself, took a quick shower, and dressed very casually for her session with Alice. She wore another cutout bra, in pale blue, matching French-cut panties, under a pair of denim culottes and an emerald green knit top. She was just putting in some labrys earrings when she heard a car pull up, then the ring of the doorbell.

She looked out, noting Alice coming up the steps, then was dismayed to see that Alice wasn't alone, but had Susie Quick with her. Determined to put the best face on what could be a potentially explosive situation, she smiled brightly and let them in.

"I wasn't expecting you, Susie."

"Well, I didn't plan to invade your home, either, Nurse Beamish. I ran into Miss Tate when I was leaving work at the video store, just starting to walk home. She invited me into her car so we could talk, and asked me about our meeting yesterday." She hung her head dejectedly. "Daddy's always telling me I need to learn to keep a poker face, but I'm just too honest. I told Miss Tate about our little arrangement."

"Alice, can you keep a secret?" Laura asked conspiratorially.

"Of course. If Susie wants to spend her sixth period study halls getting enemas in your office, I'm not one to criticize. By the way, I owe you a big thanks for offering to see me today. This morning I got on the phone and called all the colonic therapists I could find in the Yellow Pages. They charge anywhere from eighty to one hundred fifty dollars a session. I'm hoping you won't charge me nearly that much."

"I wasn't planning to charge you at all, Alice, especially since you know that Susie's accident was probably a freak case of food poisoning, not a problem in bowel control." She smiled warmly at them, the athletic, thirty-something woman and the teenage girl who was blossoming into a beauty who might someday have the ripe matronly lushness of a Laura Beamish, or might not, depending on the direction life took her. "I do have a slight problem, on the grounds of ethics. Susie, how much did you tell Alice about what happened while I was giving you the enema yesterday?"

"If this is about the cunnilingus you gave this charming girl, your secret is safe with me. I can't wait to feel a tongue on my puss while my bowels are getting stuffed with warm water; it seems like we're three of the most discrete bisexuals at Riverdale Public High School."

"I know number four," Susie said brightly. "My boyfriend Dave; we occasionally mess around with dildos and vibrators, and once he asked me to put one up his ass." She giggled at the memory. "The one that he picked out, the only one that got him off after we'd tried four or five others I just happened to have in my collection, was a monster a foot long and about two and a half inches thick."

"Sounds like it was modeled after my friend John's dick," Laura remarked, before she even knew the words were in her mouth.

"You mean Big Johnny Little, the architect and porno star wannabe?" Susie inquired, her eyes twinkling merrily.

"The same," Laura replied. "What's this porno star wannabe business? He never said anything to me about it."

"Is that the guy you had over here last night?" Alice asked, flabbergasted. "The one who was pounding your rectum . . . " her hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she was saying. "I'm so sorry, Laura. It slipped out before I could think about what I was saying."

Susie just hooted, then said, in a more serious tone, "I hope you don't consider John your exclusive boyfriend; he's probably fucked every woman in the city over the age of twenty-five or over one-hundred fifty pounds in weight. He's a major horndog for plumpers, I thought everyone knew that."

Laura didn't know whether to be outraged and start railing about what a cad John had turned out to be, or to cry over Susie's passing reference to plumpers. Her eyes tearing up, she said, "You don't know how many diets I've been on, and none of them seems to work. To me, food and sex are the only things that make my life meaningful. And my work, of course."

Susie came over to where Laura sat, drew her into a long hug, and said, "Please don't think I mean anything mean or hateful by referring to Johnny's love for plumpers. Even though I have a girlish body, I'll probably be a plumper when I'm your age, if my mother's size and shape are any indication."

"What do you mean?" Laura asked hopefully through her tears.

"Mom started putting on weight when she was about twenty-one, in her senior year of college. By the time she was twenty-five, her weight had stabilized at one-seventy, on a five foot six inch, medium-boned body. She only got to two hundred twice, once when she was pregnant with me, and once when she was pregnant with my obnoxious, bratty, younger brother. After both pregnancies, she was back to her normal weight within about three weeks. Mom doesn't have a complex about her somewhat chubby body, though, because Dad is so deeply in love with her that it makes me want to cry sometimes when I see him rubbing his hands over her pudgy belly or squeezing her big butt. There are a lot of men out there who like women who are well- padded." She paused, gently brushing a tear away from Laura's face, and added, "Even though I seem slim and stacked, like the editors of the sexy magazines call it, my hips already measure thirty-nine, and my waist has been at twenty-eight or twenty-nine since my freshman year. By the time I'm a sophomore in college, I'll probably run at least one-fifty, unless I fall for some dude who locks me up and won't let me eat."

"Don't think I'm judging you because I'm a bony beanpole," Alice put in. "I've always had trouble gaining weight, so the decision to become a jock was a natural one for me. I can eat anything I want, although I usually don't have time because I'm so busy."

"The only caution I want to make about Johnny," Susie continued, "is that I hope you practice what you preach, about safe anal sex, I mean. God only knows how many raunchy buttholes he's been in--I'd sure hate to see you get sick."

"Excuse me," Laura said, and ran into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she threw up violently. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, and Alice's voice asking, "Laura, are you all right?"

"I'll be out in a minute." She ran a wet washcloth across her face, over her puffy eyes, and then adjusted her clothing to return to her guests.

"Nurse Beamish, you're white as a sheet. What's wrong?" Susie asked.

"I hesitate to say this, but I think I'd better get in for an HIV test next week sometime," Laura said flatly. "Susie, you must think I'm an idiot `cause I've had Johnny's dick in my ass so many times without a condom. He's so big I just know he had to have caused some lacerations on my anal walls a few times, too, even though I consider myself a size queen when it comes to anal sex. Fuck it, I'm doomed." She began to weep bitterly, at which point Susie and Alice both raced to her side and held her until her tears dried up. "I just wish that once, just once, I could meet a man who sparks my sexual desire and has the soul of a poet, who could just love me for myself, and be clean and respectful of my uniqueness and my fear of being abandoned, and not play games or engage in unsafe sex with every other big`n`beautiful woman in town because he's such a horndog. Is that too much to ask?"

They continued to hold her, rocking her in two pairs of arms as she sobbed herself out, then Alice interrupted, "Maybe we should forget about the colonics today--you seem to be in no shape to give anyone medical treatments when you could probably use a little TLC yourself." Looking at Susie, she added, "Maybe we should go."

"No--please don't go. I don't want to be alone right now. I want to give you two colonics; it's something that I'm at least good at, since I seem to be such an idiot at the dating game." Her smile broke through her tears, and she suggested, "I can teach you two how to give colonics, too. Then, when I'm on my last legs from A.I.D.S., you girls can come give me a treatment to lift my spirits." She hiccuped and sobbed slightly less, then spoke up with an even brighter smile: "Did you know, Alice and Susie, that high colonics are actually a marvelous treatment for temporary depression? I haven't read a lot of clinical material about the practice, although I have spoken to a few psychologists and psychiatrists who swear by them, but I do know they really lift me up when I'm down in the dumps." She wrapped both Susie and Alice in a big hug and said, "So, please, stay with me, ladies. We'll all do colonics and writhe around with full bellies all afternoon, shit our brains out, do it again if we feel like it, and we can order some Chinese or I'll throw on a couple of pizzas, and oh, if you don't think I'm corrupting the youth, Alice, I've got a couple of really kinky videos John brought over last night. One's about enema eroticism and the other's about anal sex."

"Best offer I've heard today," Alice opined.

"If I could call my mother, so she won't worry . . . " Susie began.

"Cordless over there, sugar." Laura hugged Alice long and hard. "Sorry to fall apart on you folks. I really am a little self-conscious about my size, even though a lot of men have considered me pretty hot stuff over the years. When John came into my life, about a year ago, it was magical. He knew all the right buttons to push, he catered to all my kinky desires, and, even though I was reluctant to talk to him about commitment, he seemed to be genuinely happy when he was with me. And to think that, all this time, all the weekends when he didn't return my messages, and didn't call me for weeks at a stretch, that he was probably with some slut with less class and education than I have, with cooties crawling out of every orifice in her body. And not just one, either. When Susie said, `porno star wannabe,' I happened to think back to the time he said he was thinking about changing careers and becoming an actor."

"Lighten up, Laura. Teenagers, even nice kids, bright, sensitive girls like Susie, tend to exaggerate. You know that as well as I do; the very young tend to be very self-righteous and judgmental, and to take rumors lock, stock, and barrel just because they're so inexperienced in the way the world works."

"Do you really think that's all it is? Exaggeration? Then explain to me how John, who claims he loves me, has been busy every weekend for two months, and can't even return my calls."

"Doesn't his work take him out of the area sometimes?"

"Yes, but not that frequently. He consults for a Canadian firm, but that's only about two weeks out of every quarter. From what I know, the rest of his work is right here in the city."

"Well maybe we should give him a call and ask him to come over this afternoon."

"Yeah--he did say he'd be in town until Tuesday, when he has to fly out to Montreal for a two- week consultation." She retrieved the cordless from where Susie had left it, dialed John's number, and waited for him to pick up. After the fourth ring, his machine picked up, so Laura simply said, "Thank you for a lovely evening, Big Johnny Little. This is Laura, and it's about two- fifty p.m. on Saturday. If you get this message before late this evening, come on over. We need to talk. Bye bye now." She turned off the cordless, facing Alice. "Maybe the use of his nickname will get his attention--I've never called him that before."

"Where's Susie gotten off to?" Alice asked.

"Probably the bathroom." She walked down the hall, Alice in tow.

Knocking on the bathroom door, Laura asked, "Are you in there, Susie?"

A very small, scared-sounding voice said, "I'm in here, and I think I need a doctor."

"May we come in?" Laura asked, deep concern in her voice.

"It's open." They entered the room, seeing Susie seated on the toilet, her jeans at her feet, holding her face in her hands, and weeping bitterly.

"What's wrong, darling?" Laura asked, moving swiftly to wrap her in a protective hug.

"I think Dave hurt me bad last night when he did me up the ass. He'd gotten hold of some Viagra because all his buddies were teasing him about the size of his dick. He tried to put it in me without any lubricant, and without a condom. When I protested, he said, `Fuck you, bitch--no more condoms for me.' Against my better judgement, I made him at least wet his dick inside my pussy, then smeared saliva on it to make it more slippery. It still hurt--his erection was bigger than I remember it being, but it went in okay. I just took a dumper, and there was blood on the tissue when I wiped."

"Oh, Susie, let's get a look at you." Laura lifted the weeping teenager off the stool, bent her over, and took a baby wipe from the medicine cabinet, swabbing her anus and then taking a closer look. "There is some laceration," she noted, pointing it out to Alice. "Susie, exactly how much coercion did Dave use on you? Did he force you to let him put his penis up your anus without a condom? Did he make you feel like he'd stop seeing you if you didn't let him do you the way he wanted to?"

"Is this leading up to what I think it is?" Alice asked fearfully.

"Don't make any hasty judgements. It might be a big misunderstanding."

"In a way he kind of did coerce me," Susie answered. "I noticed him taking a pill when he first picked me up at my house, then, when he drove us out to our favorite parking spot, there was none of that long-winded but gentle, very communicative foreplay that is so much a part of Dave's style. Instead, I couldn't get my clothes off fast enough to suit him--he practically ripped them to shreds tearing them off my body. I seem to recall him slapping me a couple of times when I protested about his unwillingness to use lubricant, even though I was reaching into my purse for a bottle of very good anal lubricant."

"Sounds like date rape to me," Alice put in.

"I guess," Laura agreed. "Susie, honey, we want to take you to the hospital so they can run some tests, and we're going to call the police and have them meet us there. Is that all right with you?"

"Yeah--I don't want to see Dave any more. He hurt me last night, and not just my little bootie hole, either. He wounded my spirit and destroyed the trust and good feelings I thought had built up between us." She pulled up her panties and jeans, and said, "I'm ready whenever you are."

At that point, Trish shut off the video. "Even though this flick has its high points, with some great enema and anal sex action, it's the talkiest, preachiest, most long-winded postmodern mess of a porn flick I've ever seen. Maybe a college professor--especially a gender studies specialist-- might enjoy it all the way through, but for the average viewer, it's too heavy-handed."

"As someone who probably will be a college professor someday," I chimed in, "I also find it too heavy-handed. The sexy parts are a bit few and far between, and its attempts to be touchy-feely and more couples-oriented just dive-bomb onto their noses because the idiot who wrote the screenplay was too obsessed with establishing redeeming social value and not obsessed enough with catering to prurient interests."

I heard applause, then Karen grinned. "Spoken like the guy I love." To all us perverts in general, she said, "I'm getting sleepy. Why don't we continue this conversation in the bedroom, under the covers, with our bodies in some sort of kinky grope?"

There were cheers all around as we shut things down in the living room and coalesced on Karen's big bed.

"I want to know," Tricia began, "if Karen's and Paul's tummies feel okay, or if you two are feeling any ill effects from holding those eleven-quart love enemas for so long."

"Just horny," I piped in, hearing Karen assent, "Me, too."

"More to the point," Karen asked, "is how are you two feeling after the Castile soap, blackstrap molasses, and tossed salads in reverse? Any lingering cramps or soreness?"

Trish and Andy both shook their heads. Then Andy said, in a meek little voice, "Although there is one spot, about six inches inside my ass, that kind of itches and tingles and feels really lonesome for a big hard dick," causing us all to laugh.

"Does that mean you need a stiffie up your rump?" I asked.

"Darlin', ah would welcome a stiffie up my little moon anytime you deigned to honor me with it," she drawled in a Blanche DuBois accent. Again, we cracked up.

"That's an interesting development," Trish observed, "because I was just craving a taste of Karen's spicy asshole, as kind of a late dessert." Karen handed me a tube of lube before she and Trish fell into each other's arms.

"Will you eat out my asshole before you fuck me there?" Andrea asked. She wiggled her petite rear in my face.

"Come here, ya silly little elf--I'd like nothing better." I plunged my tongue deep into her heinie, getting it wet with my spit, fucking in and out until she screamed in ecstasy.

"Don't stop--that's so good!" her voice was a guttural moan as I kept stabbing my tongue in and out of her dark bootie hole. At the same time, I reached around her thighs to begin rubbing her clitoris, bringing her in a matter of minutes to a continuous chain of orgasms. Finally, near exhaustion from her firecracker climaxes, she shook all over and growled, "Fuck my ass now, and fuck it hard." I smeared some lube on the middle finger of my right hand, worked it well into her rear, then slicked some all over my dick, took aim, and speared her hole as deep as I could get. "Yeah," she shrieked, and the race was on.

Trish and Karen were lost in their own erotic Disneyland, faces buried in each other's backsides. As I slammed in and out of Andy's rear, I observed, "Now there's as likely a duo of buttmunches as you're ever going to see," causing her to ripple into uncontrollable gales of laughter that made her twisty anal tube contract rhythmically around my pecker. "Now I know why sex and laughter are so intimately connected. If that velvet glove inside your ass squeezes my dick like that just one more time, I'm gonna hose your bowels with every drop of come I have." She giggled again, and I said, "That's it--comminnggg!" and shot a huge load deep inside her, triggering her own orgasm and creating a shockwave of anal spasms that milked me dry. I didn't pull out, however, wanting to enjoy the heat of her darkest passage.