I must have passed out after that, because when I awakened, I was seated on the toilet, the brutal solution exploding from my behind. I noted that my three scrumptious tormenters were nowhere in sight; I was alone in the bathroom. The continued pressure against my prostate from the exit of the excessively large purge also reawakened my slumbering member, and I fondled it gently with my right hand, closing my eyes and dreaming about the next new torture Tricia, Andrea, and Rima would dream up for me. I was within about ten strokes of ejaculating when I felt strong yet feminine fingers pull my hand away from my aching erection to announce, "Pay up, Rima and Trish. I told you he'd play with himself while he's shitting," Andy announced gleefully. She turned her back to me, lifting her abbreviated lab coat aside to spread open her fanny globes.

"Paul(a)," she inquired, "will you fuck my butt then felch your come out of my butthole like a good little ass-slave?" She held her buttocks wide apart so I could note the rhythmic pulsing of her stellate rosebud. I ran my right hand between her thighs, dipping the index and "bird" fingers inside her moist vulva to get them fully lubricated, then began to ease one, then both, digits into her slowly opening rectum. "Yummy," she purred, "feels so good." Her petite yet full rear bucked passionately against my hand as I began fingerfucking her anus, intermittently pushing my fingers as deep as they would go, then stretching her twisty rear passage rhythmically so she'd be reamed out to easily accomodate my dick, which was still burstingly erect.

As I continued my preparation of Andy's lewdly offered buttocks, Trish asked, "Does your tummy still hurt, Paul(a)?" She massaged and squeezed my now- empty paunch with increasing force, signaling Rima with a nod of her head.

"Yess," I croaked against the chubby brunette's vigorous palpation of my protesting middle. "I'm still feeling crampy and gassy from the whirlwind that swept my colon earlier." Hiccupping with returning nausea, I pleaded, "Won't you please rinse me out with some clear water or something so I won't shit on the bed when I come up Andrea's bottom?" I moaned as her rough kneading of my abdomen increased in speed and force.

"Very well, Paul(a)." She turned to address Rima. "Bring that IV stand over here by the bed," she directed, interrupting my fondling of Andy's bung to position me on my hands and knees. As she continued her intense massage of my griping belly, I felt the latex-coated fingers of two hands (presumably Rima's) spread my own fanny globes open and begin drilling into my sphincter, spreading lubricant around and inside my nasty backhole. Soon the hands moved away, and I felt the insertion of a thick tube up my male cunt; it went in about eight inches and stopped, followed by a clicking sound as the clamp on the hose was opened.

I looked back to note a huge bag, bulging with liquid, hanging from the very top of the rack, which had been adjusted to its maximum height (about eight feet above the floor, or roughly five feet above my hapless heinie). Soon a warmth began spreading inside me as Rima eased the tube past my sigmoid flexture and into my descending colon. As I began to pant from the increasing volume in my tormented bowels, Andrea positioned herself on all fours in front of me, spread her buttocks apart (with Tricia's help) and guided my burstingly hard penis into her tight fanny tunnel. Horny as I was, I felt a sudden wave of drowsiness, and unable to stifle a yawn, inquired, "What did you doctor this one with, Trish?"

"This is a retention colonic," she replied, pushing the tube across the splenic flexure into my transverse colon. "The outer end is attached to a double inflatable nozzle, which will be inflated when we have all five feet of rubber inserted into you." Rubbing my middle gently, she observed, "The bag is my ten-quart model, filled to the brim with 108o water with a normal dose of Ibuprofen and a ten-milligram or blue Valium crushed up into it, mixed very thoroughly with three tablespoons of table salt to prevent and alleviate any cramping brought on by the enormous pressure you'll start to feel when we get this delicious treat locked inside you." I felt her hand leave my distending abdomen to return with one of those large, special vibrators; the hum of its operation was followed by the sensation of the Magic Fingers stroking and dancing against my impregnifying middle.

I hiccupped, belching against the increasing pressure in my colon, then yawned again as the Valium was further absorbed into my bloodstream. The other ingredients in the purge, salt and Ibuprofen acting together, prevented any cramping from the tremendous volume. I grabbed Andy's petite asscheeks in a viselike grip, announcing, "I'm going to fuck you so hard and cum so hard into your little ass tunnel that my jizz will shoot out your mouth by the time I'm done spending." I pistoned my manhood furiously in and out of her behind, hearing her gasps of passion as she neared her own joyful release. Her sphincter began expanding and contracting around my stone-hard ache, trying to milk my semen as hard as it could.

"Trish," Rima inquired, "can you hold the fort while I go to the kitchen and make a gallon of iced cappucino?" She looked directly at us as she added, "I think Andy's sluttish little booty deserves a nice piss enema."

"Yeah, I'll fill up this slut while you get a nice wash ready to fill our other little slut." She laid down the vibrator after switching it off, then rose to begin squeezing the monstrous closed-top bag to push the last of the solution into me faster. I groaned as the pressure took over my consciousness, my abdomen swollen like that of a woman at least six or seven months pregnant.

"Gonna cum," I screamed, my prostate on fire from the pressure in my middle and my penis hypersensitized by the moist, fleshy twists of the pixie redhead's back passage. I made one especially vicious lunge and felt my hot semen begin to explode into the divine heat of Andy's bottom, slumping against her backside as I heard Trish pump both balloons to full inflation then snap the clamp on the hose closed. Before I could fall into an exhausted swoon, Rima returned to the master bedroom with a tray bearing four big glasses of the icy caffeinated delicacy. She set the tray down and handed me one, beckoning Andrea and Tricia to take theirs. Before raising hers in a toast, she scooted out of the room, returning with another ten-quart bag to which a buttplug nozzle was attached, along with four one-liter bottles of club soda.

"Here's the plan," she announced: "once we've each drunk a glassful of cappucino, I'll bring the pitcher currently waiting in the fridge to refill them. When our bladders all get full, we'll take turns pissing into the other bag while Paul(a) injects its golden brine directly into Andy's guts. When the bag is close to a third full, we'll add a couple of quarts of warm water to bring it slightly above body temperature, then stir in the four liters of club soda." She reached underneath Andy's hips to caress her belly, continuing, "Can you imagine, little sugar, how full and crampy you'll feel when we get done filling your saucy little tush?" She helped the redhead take a healthy swig from her glass, set it down, then raised it for a big glug while slapping the elfin cutie's rump sharply and repeatedly with her other hand.

"I can't wait until you start invading my stinky ass with that big load of briny bubbly stuff," she gasped. "Just thinking about the shockwaves inside my middle has me within a hair's breadth of coming right now." She wiggled her perky buttocks on my still-hard penis as I drained my glass and felt the beginning of uncomfortable fullness in my bladder. As I thrust in and out of her booty slowly to maintain my erection, Andrea asked, "Are you ready to pee into my tummy now, Paul(a)?" and wiggled her can as she gasped in near-climax.

"Oh yeah, baby," I moaned, feeling the urine rise toward my urethra. "Here it comes, sweetheart. Take it all in, baby." I grunted, and began an endless pee deep inside her colon, reaching underneath her body to massage her slightly bloated stomach and push my golden load higher up inside her body. When I finished my pee, I pulled her hips hard against my body to keep her from releasing any of my urine.

Meanwhile, Trish and Rima were taking turns squatting over the bag, then passing it under Andy's vaginal lips so she could contribute her own bodily fluids to the load. Rima fetched the pitcher from the fridge, refilled our glasses, and raised hers in a another toast. "To kinky, gut-busting enemas, overfull bellies, stretched assholes, and whole-body orgasms!" she purred lubriciously as she tipped her glass back for a huge guzzle.

We all drank up, draining our glasses within minutes, then giggling again over Rima's toast. Once again, my bladder felt full to the bursting point, and I warned Andrea, "Round two!" as I hosed her guts with another pint of my caffeinated urine, stroking my dick in and out of her bum opening as I emptied my bladder. The three women took turns at the giant bag, until it stood at about three quarts or so full, then Rima went to the bathroom to fill a half-gallon pitcher with hot water, returning to pour it into the bag and stir it to bring the temperature to a safe level. The thought of the load Andy would be forced to endure had my erection returning with a vengeance, and I warned her, "before I pull out, I'm going to fuck you some more to make sure my piss and cum are driven up inside your body as deep as they can go." Stroking easily in and out of her rear several dozen times, I picked up the pace as I saw Tricia opening and pouring the four liters of club soda into the bag while Rima continued to stir its contents into a two and a half gallon witches' brew that would tickle Andrea's tummy until we deigned to let her release it.

My own colon felt explosively full, and I belched as the mighty purge inside my stinky center began to dislodge gas pockets throughout the length of my bowels. I belched furiously as I felt a tinge of nausea rise in my throat, just before the pixie redhead's milking sphincter and my overstressed prostate forced me to howl, "Coming again--and it feels so divine to shoot my load into your smelly innards, Andrea!" as I fired off shot after shot of ejaculate, pulling her hips hard against my middle as the last of my man-juice exited my swollen member.

"Coming again!!" she screamed, humping her petite ass against my crotch as I shot a third load of my thick semen into her fannysocket and deep into her twisty colon. Relaxing my muscles, I held my position until the tingling in my bladder warned me I was about to deliver a last load of burning urine into her needy guts.

"Here's the last of my golden enema," I shouted, hosing her innards with at least a quart of my boiling urine, sliding my still-erect penis in and out of her sphincter to drive the fluid deep up into her colon. She squirmed her round little bottom sexily against my crotch as she reveled in the warm flow of my yellow gift, gasping as her colon began to stretch with its moderate fullness. Finally, my dick began to detumesce fully and plopped out of her rear, just as Rima brought the inflatable nozzle lead up to her fundament and began easing the lubricated tube into her sphincter.

"This will be so good for you," the Eurasian beauty announced. "You've been so constipated with the onset of your pregnancy that your colon must be absolutely packed with hot steamy shit. And all the air Paul(a) has pumped up your guts while he's been assfucking you must have you full of gas, too." She squeezed the puffers and inflated first the inner, then the outer, balloon. Her nod to Trish brought the chubby brunette into action to open the clamp and begin Andy's direly needed intestinal therapy.

"I'm going to work on your troubled guts with the vibrator," Rima announced, picking up the model with the Magic Fingers attachment on it. She began running it slowly up the left side of the fire-haired elf's abdomen from her crotch to just above her navel, then across to push the fluid into Andy's transverse colon. Rima smiled at us as she queried, "Trish, have you gotten that e-mail jpeg from Andrea's mother yet?"

"Not yet, but I'll go check my e-mail right now; if it's here I'll print it out and bring it in."

"What's that about?" Andy and I inquired almost in unison.

"The four of us--me, Trish, Andy, and Karen--have all visited one another's families during vacation and holiday trips. We were amazed to meet Andrea's mother, because she and Andy could almost be sisters--same red hair, same green eyes, same petite build. Trish e-mailed her a few days ago asking if she had any pictures of herself when she was carrying Andy, and her initial reply indicated that her husband had taken nude photos of her from her second month of pregnancy until just before she went into labor." She laid the vibrator aside and put her warm right hand on the center of the pixie's distended middle to inquire, "How does your tummy feel, little sugar?"

"I'm so full," she moaned. "And that urine kind of burns inside my belly." She hiccupped several times and groaned, rotating her petite rear as we noted the red flush on her belly and breasts.

"You're getting close to finished," Rima replied, snapping the clamp shut. "I'm going to let you rest for a few minutes so you can absorb what's already in you, then we'll finish up here. Retention time will be a half hour from the time the bag is fully empty." She continued her hand massage of Andy's giant beachball gut as she resumed her account. "Andy's mom e-mailed Trish that it would take her a bit of time to locate the photos, but that as soon as she did, she'd scan them into a zip file and e-mail it to her." She squeezed the redhead's middle affectionately and observed, "This way we can see what you'll look like as your pregnancy progresses."

"Check it out, gang," Trish whooped, entering the room at that moment with a sheaf of color printouts in her right hand. We looked at them in chronological sequence, the first photo showing Andrea's mother Jessamyn, height 5'0", at her pre-pregnancy weight of 95 pounds. The second photo showed her about three months along, her weight at 105 and her waist just beginning to show a perceptible thickening, while the third showed her at 4 1/2 months, her belly swollen to the size of a volleyball and her weight at 115. At the beginning of the sixth month, Jessamyn's belly was swollen to the size of a small watermelon and her weight was 135, while the eighth month saw her at 160 pounds and her stomach the size of a beach ball. The last photo, taken just days before her labor, showed her middle sticking out a foot and a half from her hipbones, with her weight at 180. "Wow!" Rima exclaimed. "Your mom almost doubled her weight when she was carrying you. Were you a big baby as well?"

"I weighed ten pounds five ounces at birth, and was twenty-three inches long," the pixie redhead replied. "I'm hoping I won't gain quite as much weight with my first pregnancy, but I do know I'll probably still be as big as a house before I deliver."

"How come you're so tiny now?" Tricia asked. "Did something happen to stunt your growth? Were you malnourished in childhood?" She drew Andy into a tender hug, her eyes misting with concern.

"No--both sides of my family have always been small-boned and short. My dad is only about 5'5" and weighs maybe 130 soaking wet."

"I'm awaiting pregnancy photo sets from my mom, Rima's mom, and Karen's mom, all of which will be e-mailed to me within the next few days," Trish announced. "Just so you know what you've gotten yourself into by knocking up us four perverse ladies." She grinned as she patted my belly, then began to massage Andrea's tummy as Rima opened the clamp to let in the rest of her briny infusion.

"Uh uh, urp," Andy belched, her face pale from the nausea precipitated by the briny, bubbly purge. "I think I'm gonna barf if I have to take the rest of this load." She began to moan as the solution chugged inexorably into her invaded guts.I looked over at her swollen middle, which looked about six months' pregnant, and began a slow massage of her distended gut as her retching sounds intensified in volume and frequency. "I think we need a bucket here," I said, nodding to Trish.

"Yeah," Rima seconded. "It's obvious the little pig can't take a bellyful of piss and bubbly, so we'll just have to let her puke until we get the rest of the bag emptied into her filthy colon." Pushing my hands away, she began pressing the plate attachment on the giant vibrator firmly against various loci on Andy's abdomen, beginning at the lower left side and working in a counterclockwise direction up toward her transverse colon and back down to the lower right. Continuing this action for several minutes, she cackled with sadistic glee as the petite redhead began to eject the contents of her stomach violently into the bucket so fortuitously provided by Tricia. Jumping up to roll the bottom of the bag upwards to squeeze it dry, the Eurasian beauty observed, "I believe we got the whole bag into her," just as Andy's vomiting came to a halt. She closed the clamp and rehung the bag a foot lower, on a towel bar inside the tub.

As Trish emptied the slop bucket into the toilet, closed the lid, and flushed Andrea's sick away, I helped the pixie to her feet, gently rubbing her huge beachball of a belly as she leaned weakly in my arms. Rima disappeared at that point, reappearing two minutes later with an inflatable, vibrating buttplug in hand. Turning it on to check the batteries, Rima produced a low, powerful humming sound. Handing the instrument to Andy to hold, she directed, "Take a good look at what's going up into your ass to keep that enema in your tummy for the required time." She practically guided the tip of the plug to Andy's lips when the firehaired pixie leaned forward and took the rounded, tapering head into her mouth and simulated fellatio until Rima swatted her sharply on her apple-shaped rump and eased the plug from her lips. Swathing the plug in K/Y, Rima brought the plug smoothly up between Andy's nether cheeks, deflated the inflatable nozzle balloons and eased them out of the elf's rear, letting the tube slide slowly from her colon. As the last inch of the tube exited Andrea's rectum, Rima smoothly slid the tip of the plug to her anal star, and guided it slowly into its nest in her rectum.

Andy grunted when the wide part of the shoulder stretched her sphincter to a two-inch diameter, then relaxed as the device seated itself and she could belay any worries that she wouldn't be able to hold the solution for the required period. If the truth were known, it would ruin all of us who were there that day, that Rima made a confession to me just after inflating the plug in Andrea's bottom and turning on the vibrator unit so the pixie could get a little buzz for her agony. "Have you noticed anything different about these enemas today?" she asked me, patting my swollen paunch.

"I feel kind of stoned," I replied, fixing her with a really spaced expression and letting my body slump.

"I've been putting a gram of `shrooms per quart into everyone's treatments this afternoon. Look at her," Rima gasped. "She's really getting into this, isn't she?"

Andy was writhing in the bathtub, the plug humming merrily in her back door, domed belly and flushed breasts slick with perspiration as both hands worked furiously at her g-spot and clitoris. Within minutes, her sex flush had risen from crimson to nearly violet; screaming mutely, she bucked and rotated, hands now clutching her hugely distended abdomen as she shook for nearly ten minutes, finally finding her voice to scream her ecstasy through the house. At last sated, she slumped back in the tub and whimpered softly as the cramps from her unorthodox purge began hitting her in huge waves, making her belch once again from nausea and crampy fullness. "I gotta let it out," she begged. "I feel like my colon is going to burst. Please, sweet mistresses and master, let me release this belly-buster." Tears began to run down her cheeks as she prostrated herself and continued gagging and whimpering while Rima and Trish stared imperiously down at her.

"Your call, Paul(a)," Rima announced.

"We better let her relieve her bowels, I guess," my monotone delivery sounded sarcasm. "We wouldn't want the little piggie to explode now, would we?"

Rima and I each took one of Andy's arms and helped her over to the toilet, then she deflated the plug in the redhead's bung and gently eased it out of her as we settled her on the seat of the convenience. A huge fart echoed through the bathroom, then Andy's guts fell into the toilet in the form of everything in her colon flooded through her by the urine and club soda in the purge. Her color gradually returned to normal as her evacuation slowed to a trickle, and Trish was at her side with moist towelettes to swab the sweat off her body and soothe her. I was rubbing her distended middle in a clockwise motion, willing the fluid in the farthest reaches of her crampy bowels to find its way around, downwards, and out of her overstressed little body. She belched and hiccupped nauseously as her evacuation resumed, explosive farts from the dissipating gas inside her echoing across the bathroom.

At last it was over, and she slumped exhaustedly in my arms as I supported her, kissing her forehead and crooning softly to her. "It's okay, Andy baby," I comforted. "After you've napped for a couple of hours, we're going to rinse you out with a long, slow, baking soda colonic so you won't feel the briny burn or the soda fullness in your little tummy anymore." As I assisted her in standing, Trish began cleansing her petite bottom with bath tissue, following this action up by scrubbing her rear with a warm, soapy washcloth, after which she dried the pixie's fundament with a soft terrycloth towel. Rima assisted her in diapering the redhead with the towel, fastening the corners with safety pins, as proof against accidents during the required nap.

I took her gently into my arms and lifted her, carrying her into the bedroom and depositing her on Trish's big bed. Rima and Trish brought up the rear, wheeling an IV stand bearing a six-quart closed-top bag, cleaned and rinsed and loaded with a solution of Castile soap and glycerine in 108o water. They positioned me on the bed on my left side, lying against Andrea's back spoon fashion, then lubed my backhole and eased the double inflatable nozzle inside me before inflating it and removing the bag from the stand.

"This will be a very slow, sensuous infusion," Rima announced. "We'll get you both up when the bag is empty, Paul(a), and you can release this while we're starting Andy's colonic." Without another word, she opened the clamp to its first position as Trish took her position behind me on the bed and began rubbing my belly in a soothing fashion. Closing my eyes, I drifted into fantasies of the endless enema as the solution slowly permeated my guts.

________________________________________________________________ __

Lying there against Andrea's saucy little can, I felt the caustic solution draining slowly into my expanding guts, hallucinating that pure fire was forcing its way inside me. So high I was exhausted, I sighed and belched softly as my middle began to fill further, the comfort of the zäftig brunette's hands moving the solution higher into my distending colon. My penis began to return to erection, and I shivered against the body rushes produced by the combination of `shrooms, belly cramps, and the softness of the sweet, relaxed female fanny against my crotch. I heard a snapping sound, then Trish's remark that, "I'm opening the clamp further to let the solution flow into your tummy a bit faster." She patted my now-bulging midsection and asked, "How do you feel?"

"My gut feels like it's about to explode," I observed. "How much is inside me now, anyway?"

"About three quarts--you're halfway there." She continued her massage of my swelling abdomen as the intensely warm solution kept chugging inexorably into my open behind. Occasionally her massaging hand slid down to caress my obdurate erection, and she thrust her tongue lewdly into my right ear before remarking, "Once you've released and we've gotten the colonic into Andrea, we're going to give you a nice big clear water colonic, too." She increased the force of her abdominal massage, pressing vigorously into my bulging gut as she inquired, "Won't that feel nice, Paul(a), to have your stinky guts rinsed out with several gallons of steaming warm water?" She patted my belly gently as she looked upward to observe the progress of the six quarts of liquid hell that were forcing their way into my innards.

"You ladies take such good care of me," I purred, wincing as a series of knifelike cramps began to saw through my protesting bowels. "Ugghhh, ohmigod, oooohhhh, ugghhhh," I grunted, feeling the peristalsis begin to push the quickened contents of my colon against the unyielding inner balloon of the inflatable nozzle. Panting rapidly, I groaned, "I think I'm gonna barf, Trish," retching noises emanating from my throat.

Closing the clamp, she shot a glance upward and announced, "The bag is toast. Let's wake Andy, I'll have Rima get her started on her colonic, then I'll help you into the john so you can release this gut-buster."

I gently cupped the drowsing redhead pixie's vulva with my right hand, rubbing my thumb gently against her clit as I whispered, "It's time for your colonic, sugar," before moving my left hand across her belly to tweak her nipples alternately. She rolled into my arms and met my lips for a kiss before rising sleepily and walking toward the bathroom, where Rima was standing by to begin her huge rinse.

Following them inside, I noted that Rima was placing Andy on her back on the massage table, feet drawn back toward her shoulders so that she was in the "presenting" position, her genital and anal regions plainly offered. Snapping latex exam gloves on both hands, she began rubbing k/y all over Andrea's rear, stopping at times to press the pad of either fingertip against her relaxing anal star. After roughly the third such attempt, the fire-haired pixie bucked backward to draw Rima's right middle finger deeply up her bottom. She began to pant hoarsely as she rode the fucking motions of the Eurasian stunner's finger in her delectable browneye.

Trish, standing by to help me, noted the pained expression on my face as an especially sharp cramp wracked my middle, my hands going instinctively to cradle it like a pregnant woman cradles her belly when seated in public. She crossed the room and eased me over to the toilet, beginning the process of deflating my inflatable nozzle "tail" before settling me in a squat above the toilet seat. Deflation completed, she whisked the device from my rear and carried it carefully to the tub as all hell exploded from my bursting colon. Another wave of cramps, then a gigantic, gut-wracking fart that rang through my bowels like a thundering locomotive, and I felt myself passing the remnants of everything I'd eaten in at least the last seventy-two hours. Cradling my belly against the pain, I moaned and howled as the pent-up pressure continued to release itself in intermittent explosions of waste, water, and gas until I was hiccupping from the nausea induced by the giant purge. I began to hyperventilate, and Trish returned to my side to gently massage my chest and abdomen until I calmed down, my erection returning as the pressure inside abated.

"Are the cramps still so bad?" she inquired, increasing the intensity of my abdominal massage.

I couldn't answer for a moment, as my bowels at that point erupted with another ringing fart that echoed through the bathroom. My erection continued to stiffen despite the crampy agony exiting my middle, and I glanced over to the erotic view of Andrea with her ass in the air impaled on a giant colon tube which ran down from a bag suspended from the ceiling via a plant hook. Her belly protruded between her widespread legs, growing larger and more distended as the seemingly endless flow of water kept forcing its way inside her diminutive body. Finally, I replied, "The cramps are only really bad when they're about to break up a gas pocket deep inside me. The pressure itself is so explosive it takes my breath away." I moaned softly as she began pressing more firmly into specific regions of my deflating gut, kneading and squeezing my still-distended flesh to work the last traces of my liquid invasion out of my system.

My expulsion finally slowed to a trickle, then an occasional drip, until Tricia pronounced, "I think you're done, so I'll clean you up and get you off the toilet. Andy looks as if she's about to pop, so we'll get her on the toilet, clean up the equipment, and prepare you for a thorough rinse of your tummy." She patted my flat(ter) abdomen as she helped me rise so I could cleanse my behind with tissue, then a baby wipe, then a warm, soapy washcloth, worming a corner of the fabric into my hole to make it kissing sweet.

Andrea hiccupped loudly as Rima helped her to her feet and led her toward the toilet in a measured waddle, her hugely swollen middle (looking nine months pregnant with triplets) swaying sensuously in front of her as my erection began to throb painfully. Rima settled her in a semi-squat over the seat and began withdrawing the tube carefully as Andy began to writhe and gasp and keen at the erotic pleasure of its departure, finally groaning and screaming in the grandaddy of all anal orgasms.

Just as quickly, Trish washed, rinsed, and disinfected the ten-quart bag, hose, and tube before running bathwater to the proper temperature and refilling the bag, stopping halfway through to pour in a cup of baking soda and stir it thoroughly into the mix. This chore done, she topped off the bag, hung it from its ceiling hook, turned the bathwater hotter to fill a gallon pitcher for a reserve, shut off the taps, and quickly opened and closed the clamp on the hose to burp the air from the lines. "Now, Paul(a)," she declared, "I want you on all fours with your rump sticking up and your head on this folded towel. Karen will be back over to pick you up within the next couple of hours, and we want your asshole and its environs to be immaculately clean for the dildoes she's going to use for your reunion fuck." She patted my fanny sensuously and then eased an exam glove- clad finger bearing a copious amount of lube into my clean rectum.

She massaged my prostate sensuously for a few moments, causing my dick to erect rock-hard, then withdrew her middle finger and, relubing it and her index finger, gently stretched my hole open further, continuing the massage of my prostate and gradual fingerfucking of my slutty bottom until I felt myself open up, my sphincters blossoming like petals under her onslaught. The addition of a third finger to her rectal massage caused the preejaculate to begin weeping from my shatteringly hard penis, and I gasped, "I'm gonna cum if you keep that up!" Slowly, she eased the three fingers from my rear and began easing the thick tube sensually into my back passage, inserting it well over a foot before opening the clamp to begin the release of the steamy water into my still-irritated colon.

It began with a spreading warmth higher in my bowel, somewhere beyond my sigmoid flexure and into the caecum. I gradually became aware of a pervasive fullness that enveloped my senses. I felt Tricia's hand easing the tube higher inside me as the walls of my colon expanded outward to accomodate the refreshing rinse. By this time, Andrea, who had finished expelling and wiping herself with Rima's assistance, came over to rub my distended belly as Trish worked with the tube in my backside. Finally, Rima came over to join us, zeroing in on my engorged penis with her gorgeous mouth. I fell into a swoon then, still alert but unable to do more than react to the multimedia show they'd made of my body, orgasmic sensations pulsing deep inside my abdomen as I filled full to near-bursting, my dick in turn catching fire with a sensory glow that was almost painful.

I grunted as the caressing warmth of the fluid invaded my colon deeper up inside me, feeling distended and bloated but at peace with the world.

"Ten quarts of baking soda solution," Rima remarked, observing, "means that expansion from the soda will distend its abdomen nearly a foot, won't it, Tricia dear?"

"That's right, hon. I think it's time you made that gallon of icy lemonade so we can see if the chemical reaction will make the slut's gut twice as big."

"Gawdd!" I half-rasped, half-whimpered. "Were you two planning to make my colon explode?"

"No, cockroach!" Rima snapped. "But you will feel as if your disgusting flabby tummy is going to pop!!" She crossed the bathroom to kneel down at my other side and massage my expanding belly roughly and vigorously. "Gotta get it way deep up inside your bowels where your shit starts," she observed, intensifying her assault. "This is the first of a series of monthly drills you'll endure until Karen is ready to deliver, with the exception that you'll get the same ten-quart baking soda infusion and a gallon of ice-cold strong lemonade locked inside you with a double inflatable nozzle for the duration of her labor." By this time she was grabbing big handfuls of my slowly-expanding belly flesh and squeezing it to the point that I winced from the pressure in my midsection. "I think," the Eurasian vixen opined, "that we'll actually get you cleaned out enough for the twelve-inch ejaculating dildo connected to a half gallon of warm milk." She snickered as I began to wince from the intense pressure in my colon.

"I'd know that snicker anywhere," Trish remarked. "You're going to give Paula a full-pint disposable douche filled with molasses as a chaser, aren't you, Rima?" she asked with a shiver of lust in her contralto voice.

"You know it," the raven-haired goddess replied. "That way s/he, too, can feel as if it's about to miscarry." She slapped my hugely round belly sharply, rising to squeeze the last of the soothing solution into my bowels as Andy returned from the kitchen with a gallon pitcher of icy lemonade, the condensation sweating and running down the sides of the pitcher.

"Here's a tasty treat for your tummy, little enema slut pig whore!" she chirped. "We're going to hang this bag lower so you can enjoy every delicious drop of your medicine. Hope the delivery's a success!!" She handed the pitcher to Trish, who promptly poured it into the bag delivering its contents into my stinky guts.

"I want uou to bear down and hold this as if your life depended on it, which it does," the zäftig auburn-haired confection purred menacingly in my left ear, sliding her tongue evilly inside to bring my slumbering dick to full erection.

I felt the soothing, steamy warm baking soda solution flowing into my empty bowels, permeating my insides with its hydraulic caress, reaching deep inside me to penetrate further and further as I looked down at my slowly distending stomach, my rear thrust obscenely into the air as I knelt with my head on my crossed arms. I heard the snap! of the clamp closing as Rima observed, "He's halfway done with this load--only five more quarts to go." She began rubbing my bulging middle in counterclockwise circles, willing the fluid to travel further and further into my guts. Another snap! alerted me to the reality that the rest of my infusion had begun; I could feel intensifying pressure and looked upward to note that Trish had rehung the bag about a foot higher.

The ebony-haired vixen's caressing hands on my belly felt so comforting that I was almost in a doze before another snap! informed me that they were stopping my inflation to add the gallon of icy lemonade to the mixture. I looked down to note that my abdomen sagged downward like the midsection of a woman seven or eight months pregnant. I wondered idly to myself how I'd endure a gallon of lemonade reacting violently with the baking soda, doubling the amount of expansion suffered by my poor colon.

"Gotta hang it higher," Trish observed, and I could feel the icy fluid pushing into my faster and faster. My whole bowel felt near the point of explosion as the acidic treat drained quickly and forcefully into my still-expanding gut.

"Owie!!" I sobbed, hiccupping and belching from the fullness inside me. I felt sure that I'd burst from the pressure when a final click! informed me that I now held three and a half gallons of still-expanding fluid inside my intestines, forcing my stomach to distend to the point that it rested against the bed, even with my hips and chest at a firm forty-five degreee angle from its surface.

"Wow!!" Andy exclaimed. "S/he looks about ten months pregnant with triplets." She came to my side and gently rubbed my huge gut. "Does it hurt?"

"It feels like I'm gonna die," I moaned, shuddering from the vast internal pressure. It was at this moment that Trish left the bedroom, returning with a Polaroid camera.

"Great idea, Trish!" Rima exclaimed. "Photo opportunity from hell." She eased the outer end of the colon tube off the hose from the monstrous bag, inserted a rubber stopper in the tube, and carried the bag away to wash and rinse it.

After Trish snapped three or four pictures of my lying with my middle swelling and sagging hugely against the bed, she handed the camera to Andy as she helped me to my feet so the pixie redhead could take more pictures of my simulated pregnancy in a standing position. I had to support my gigantic gut with both hands just like I've seen women in the third trimester of their pregnancies do, knowing that my back and hip muscles couldn't do all the work.

A brutal cramp suddenly hit my center, causing my gut to gripe spasmodically and bringing the nauseating taste of bile to my throat. "I don't know how much longer I can hold this before I puke my guts out!" I exclaimed breathlessly, my heart racing out of control. I clutched my hugely inflated belly, bent over, and fought to keep from retching.

"I'll get some buckets!" Andrea exclaimed, running out of the bedroom toward the utility closet. She was back just as I sank to my knees, conscious that I might also explode, or suffer a heart attack, before I could release the unreasonably massive gut-buster.

Rima and Trish each took one arm, steering me by the shoulders so Andy could position one bucket until my butt, at which point Rima began sliding the thick tube out of my quivering bottomsocket. Andy meanwhile positioned the second bucket under my chin so I could vomit into it if I didn't deflate fast enough from down below.

As Rima slid the tube further from the core of my fundament, Tricia began to massage my abdomen vigorously in a clockwise motion, moving the fluid and gas up through my ascending colon and across my transverse colon, which had the effect of pushing the mostly-liquid contents of my caecum and descending colon out through my rectum into the bucket. I grunted with the intensity of the cramps that still thundered through my bowels, and I noticed my dick taking a sudden interest in the proceedings.

"I'd forgotten how good a prostate massage with a departing colon tube can feel, I guess," I purred lasciviously. Since Rima had the tube fully out of me by now, she began to massage my steelhard member until I cried and grunted and gurgled as I shot huge gobbets of my semen in rhythm with my forceful expulsion. Finally, I came down enough from my kinky high to catch a breath and look tenderly into Rima's eyes as I queried, "Was it good for you, too?" In reply, saying nothing, she reached behind her for a heavy leather paddle which she brought down on my deflating middle at least a dozen times.

"That oughta shake loose the last of that crud in your colon," she explained haughtily. "After you're done expelling and we've all had a chance to shower and change, we're going to give you a five-quart herbal-based therapeutic retention lavage through an 80GR tube with a double inflatable nozzle on the outside end." She laid down the paddle and commenced to massaging my still-emptying middle with skill and tenderness, Tricia meanwhile going down on my reawakening woodie while Andrea ran a feather across my nipples and navel until I exploded another load into the chubby brunette's greedy maw.

____________________________________________________________

For this last treatment, they placed a latex sheet on Tricia's big bed, then positioned me on my left side, left knee bent and right leg angled down from my body in the classic Sims position. When Andrea came up behind me and began to lube my fannysocket sensuously, she simultaneously encircled my dick with the fingers of her right hand, giving me a slow, exquisite handjob. I gurgled contentedly as she asked, "Does that feel good, hon? Does it soothe your tummy while Trish and Rima are preparing a therapeutic retention for your achey, breaky guts?" She took a break from working my woodie to gently massage my deflated but still-crampy middle as she abandoned any pretense of lubing my naughty rear and giving over to a full-blown prostate massage. "How many fingers do you think I have in you?" she inquired salaciously.

"I'd guess two, maybe three." I sounded hesitant.

"You've obviously forgotten how small-boned I am," she giggled. "I have four fingers inside you, and if Trish and Rima don't come back here soon, I'm going to put my whole hand inside your butt."

"Aren't you afraid of making a mess?" I asked, surprised.

"Not really, Paul(a). You see, we've already made arrangements for your training, in the event that there's any shit on the exam gloves I'm wearing when I pull my whole hand out of your ass after fist-fucking you for several minutes. Would you like to know the punishment for that little offense?" She regarded me with a Chesire cat grin.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," I began timorously.

"And well you should be," Rima announced airily. "In fact, since you had the temerity to ask, I think we should give you your disciplinary treatment simultaneous with your retention enema."

"Okay, what's the treatment?" I asked with a shudder in my voice, near tears.

Rima crossed to kneel on the bed facing me. "We'll be giving you a half-gallon oral dose of magnesium citrate, mixed with a quart of chocolate milk and a triple dose of Alka-Seltzer mixed in a pint of water." She patted my belly somewhat roughly, almost slapping it really, and added, "Then we'll see who whines about achey breaky guts." She got up and departed for the kitchen to mix my crampy cocktail.

Andy now had her whole hand inside my colon, sliding it in as far as it would go, then retracting until my muscles began to relax. Suddenly, she brought her fingers back to form a fist inside my empty bowel and began to slide it back and forth, increasing in speed and force as she felt me relax even further. I was within moments of exploding in a deep anal orgasm when she opened her fist and eased her hand gently out of my widespread ass, in the same motion beginning the passage of the oversized colon tube into my rear. When she had what I swore were at least several feet of the rubber intruder inside my guts, I felt the beginnings of warmth and fullness.

The soothing caress of the herbal mixture began somewhere high inside my smelliest depths, and I gurgled in contentment as the soporific mixture continued to permeate my crampy belly. Within moments, Rima was at my side handing me what looked like a chocolate shake. "Drink this," she ordered, "and it will help you to feel better after your name, when Karen comes to pick you up." She handed me the glass with a stern expression on my face.

I grabbed the glass and lifted it to my mouth. After taking a careful swallow and determining that the concoction actually tasted good, I gulped it down greedily, almost wincing at its coldness against the back of my throat.

"Very good, little pig," the Eurasian beauty crooned. "Does my baby girl like the nummies for her little tummy?" She patted my middle gently as the herbal mixture continued to penetrate deep into the upper reaches of my colon.

"That chocolate milk is ever the best," I cooed contentedly. "Is there any more?" I held out my glass, which she took and disappeared for the kitchen.

By this time, Andy had the entire tube and inflatable nozzle inside my colon, and I heard her give half a dozen forceful puffs to the 500 cc inner balloon, sealing the 250 cc outer one a few moments later. Scant seconds later, a gurgle alerted me to the fact that the bag was empty; my colon was inflated with the five quarts of herbal mixture which I was to hold for some indefinite period of time, but how long?

"How's your tummy?" Trish asked. "Are the cramps gone yet?"

"Yeah--I'm just feeling slightly full, but nothing I can't handle."

"Good," she smiled, then began a gentle massage of my swollen midsection with a Magic Fingers attachment on one of those patented oversized vibrators she and her cohorts favored for use on me when giving me a treatment.

Rima loped back into the bedroom, carrying another malt glass filled with the wickedly delicious chocolate concoction. "Here you go, Paul(a)," she said solicitously, handing me the glass. I took it and drained it quickly, then belched because I drank it too fast. "More?" she inquired.

"Yeah, but how much more do I have to drink?"

"Another quart and about a pint or so," she answered. "You're about halfway done."

"Bring it on!" I rejoined enthusiastically. "I can't believe how delicious this stuff is."

"If you think it's delicious now," Rima began, "just imagine how delicious it will be when it starts to work in your tummy during your nap." She snickered wickedly, springing from Tricia's bedroom to bring the pitcher from the fridge and refill my glass. As she handed it to me, I tipped the glass and drained half of it in one big gulp, belched, and sipped the rest more slowly.

I began to shiver a bit from the fullness in my colon and the increasing fullness in my upper GI tract, so Trish and Andy began to ease a pair of pastel blue crotchless, bottomless, women's terrycloth lounging pajama pants up my legs, helping me to lift my butt so they could pull the snug waist up over my buttocks and swollen abdomen. They then helped me into the matching top, which had cutouts over the breast area and ended about two inches above my navel.

"I just noticed something," Andy observed. She moved both hands to my chest and began squeezing the flesh around my nipples.

"What's that?" Trish inquired, a lewd grin on her face.

"The hormone treatments are starting to work. Paul(a)'s tits are beginning to grow." She snickered as she began to pinch my nipples and squeeze my burgeoning mounds more firmly.

I looked down to my chest, and, sure enough, I was beginning to grow breasts. As Andrea continued caressing them, I felt my penis begin to stiffen. At this point, Rima topped off my glass a final time and handed it to me, while Trish left the bedroom momentarily.

As I began to sip the chocolate nightmare, Tricia came back with two little blue tablets. "Swallow these before you finish your drink, then we'll give you a nice massage so you can get a good nap before Karen arrives." I took them from her outstretched right hand, put them in my mouth, and washed them down with a big glug of the drink.

"What are those?" I inquired, just a little bit concerned.

"Blue, or 10 mg, Valium. They'll help you relax and sleep better." She began a slow, sensuous massage of my distended belly as I finished my drink, then positioned me on my left side again, rubbing my middle while Andrea intensified her sensual massage of my budding boobs and Rima began squeezing and caressing my protruding asscheeks. Occasionally, Tricia's hands would stray toward my awakening cock, giving it loving squeezes to keep me at full erection. Lost in the sensuality and torment of their ministrations, combined with the effects of the herbal lavage I still retained along with the 20 milligrams of Valium, I drifted into a peaceful sleep.

________________________________________________________________ __

And I awakened in hell, feeling a fiery cramp wrack the entirety of my abdominal region. My bowels felt as if they were about to burst, and my belly heaved with my breathing as if it would soon split apart. My erection had also deflated from the pain in my guts, and I moaned loudly as my three captors regarded me with concern. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Trish left the bedroom to answer it.

As I clutched my bloated middle and continued to moan and groan in my agony, Trish returned with Karen at her side. "It's so good to see you, sweetheart!" she exclaimed cheerfully. Approaching me more closely, she noted, "I see you're holding a big load in your tummy--and you look like you're in pain. Have my sistahs been tormenting you again?" She sat beside me and began to rub my aching stomach gently.

"He's holding a five quart herbal infusion and we also forced him to drink a half- gallon of magnesium citrate mixed with a quart of chocolate milk," Rima explained. "Since Trish gave him 20 mg of Valium and we settled him down for a four-hour nap, the laxative has had sufficient time to work in his system. If there's any shit at all left in his guts, it will fly out of him when we seat him on the john and deflate the inflatable nozzle." She grinned evilly at Karen and reached out to take one hand to assist me up, her action mimicked by Karen's taking the other hand.

"It's a good thing I have the back seat of my Lincoln cleaned off so he can lie down on the way back to my place," Karen observed. "Are you ready to go home, honey?" She smiled warmly at my, patting my big belly as she did so.

"Can't I release this first?"

"No--you have to hold it in you for the ride home--the motion of the car will stir up what's inside you better, make for a better expulsion." As we made our way to the front door of Tricia's house, Andy and Rima disappeared for a moment, only to reappear with a duffle bag filled with the lingerie, garments, and toys they figured I'd need back at Karen's pad. After extended hugs and kisses all around, Karen led me out to her Versailles, opened the trunk so I could deposit my bag, and helped me lie down on my left side in her back seat.

By the time we got back to her house, what with all the turns and stops along the way, my guts were protesting mightily. Once back inside, she took me into her arms for a soulful hug and a kiss that found her tongue searching so far back in my mouth that it felt as if she was going to devour my glottis, then swatted my rear and sent me to wait in the bathroom for her. As I limped away, she instructed me to take off the kinky lounge suit and wait on my hands and knees for her.

Shivering in the slightly-cool bathroom (it was early December now, a week before finals), I writhed in distress, certain my colon would rupture and bring me an excruciatingly painful death. Just as I was certain I'd vomit from the bloating and cramps throughout my overinflated bowels, Karen returned to the bathroom wearing a white latex, form-fitting nurse's uniform the bottom hem of which hit eight inches above the knee. She was slapping a leather cutout paddle against her left palm as she grinned lasciviously at me. "I'll bet you'd like to release the load that's tormenting your achey breaky guts, wouldn't you?"

"My achey breaky guts are about to explode from the cramps and bloating I'm feeling. Do women feel this bad during their periods, or sometimes in pregnancy?" I clutched my suffering stomach as I uttered this, and she moved closer, holding the paddle out for me to contemplate the sensation of its striking any exposed body parts. I shuddered, asking timidly, "What are you going to do with that thing, sweet Mistress Karen?" I trembled in place, standing there with my swollen belly protruding like that of a woman seven months along.

"You fucked up, Paul(a)! Nobody gave you permission to let your dick detumesce. I'm going to paddle your belly before you release, at least until you get another woodie." She grinned at me menacingly. "If you should happen to get careless and ejaculate during your paddling, I will continue to paddle your belly while I let you release, then I'll treat you with an eight-quart retention colonic with a 60FR tube and a double inflatable nozzle to seal it. Just before I begin inserting the tube, I'm giving you a sleeping pill, then inflating the inflatable nozzle to maximum size after the solution has drained into you, a solution less innocuous because I will add a cup of liquid glycerine." She brought the paddle sharply against my distended tummy, and I gasped in agony coupled with extreme nausea.

"Was it your goal to kill me?" I couldn't help asking?

"Silence, dog!!" she shouted, laying off her paddling of my middle to begin massaging its distended contours with gentle but firm strokes, vigorously agitating the chemical hell in my colon.

"Oh gawd!! Achey breaky guts!!!" I screamed, feeling the roiling contents of my viscera pushing their way eastward and south, only to be blocked by the 500 cc balloon in my anus. I regarded Karen with an imploring look in my eyes, and her understanding was manifested scant seconds later when I heard the deflation of both balloons and the beginning of the tube's descent from the furthest northwestern reaches of my bowel.

Helping me up to a squat over the toilet, Karen continued sliding the tube smoothly from my rear as she observed, "I'll have to keep this one in my repertoire; the effects on the patient are truly amazing." As the upper end of the tube slid from my bottom, my zäftig blonde goddess began a gentle counterclockwise circular massage of my slowly-deflating belly. Rubbing her hands over my body caused my dick to return to rampant erection, and I reached for her hands to spin her around to face me. Suddenly submissive, she faced me and I drew her into my arms, cupping her buttocks with both hands as I brought her body against mine.

"I'm soooo horny!!" I gasped, meeting her lips with mine in a soul kiss that had us both swabbing the other's tonsils, as it seemed. Suddenly, a thunderous cramp wracked my middle, and I plopped on the toilet seat as a molten Niagara of my waste made me double over with nausea and mounting panic. Again there was an abrupt shift in Karen's manner toward me. She took a baby wipe from a box of them sitting on the toilet tank and began swabbing the sweat from my face and forehead. Once the urge to vomit passed, I managed to catch my breath and ask, "Do I still have to undergo the glycerine retention colonic?"

In answer she merely resumed her massage of my mostly empty belly before stating, "I think maybe a baking soda solution would be better for you than the glycerine battery. But I will have to increase the size of the bag to ten quarts." She looked at me quizically for a moment, then sighed, "Oh well, I guess you really don't have a choice, do you? After all, I am your Nurse, and I know exactly what you need." She ceased the abdominal massage and moved away for a moment as the last of the fluid terror exited my body.

I heard water begin running from the shower, and Karen returned momentarily to grab more baby wipes and a roll of bath tissue. As soon as the sounds of my expulsion stopped emanating ("enemating?") from the toilet for five minutes, she stood me up and bent me over the stool, wiping the muddy spatters from my anal region and asscheeks then going over it all with the baby wipes. She helped me into the shower and began scrubbing me all over with a bar of soap and a loofah sponge.

I returned the favor and scrubbed her, lingering on such delights as her distended nipples (the women in Karen's family apparently began lactating as early as the second month of pregnancy), her deep "innie" navel, her labia majorae and clitoris, the rosebud of her anus, the insides of her thighs, and trailing my lips downward to settle on the tops of her feet. She drew me to a standing position by grasping both my hands and guiding me upward, kissed my lips chastely, and announced, "We're going to give you this colonic on your back right here in the tub, if you'd be so kind as to reach back behind you and switch the selector from shower nozzle to tub taps." She bent over in front of me to grab something from the table near the tub, returning with a tube of some commercial anal sex lube and a colon tube that looked as big as a garden hose.

Stepping from the tub for a minute to rummage through the full-length bathroom closet, she produced said ten-quart bag and brought it under the tub tap, filling it until it sagged and bulged with steamy water. "Can you lift it up to that towel rack over the tub?"

I grunted at the weight of the bag (eight pounds dry weight is equivalent to one gallon, so this bag weighed in excess of twenty pounds) and lifted it by its heavy- duty coat hanger to the rack that stood about three and a half feet above the floor of the tub. Karen grabbed the hose leading from the monstrous sloshing bag and fitted the upper end of the colon tube to it, then announced, "We're ready, I think."

"What about the baking soda?"

"I decided clear water was best; it wouldn't do for you to be too comfortable, would it?" She patted my belly as she began lubing the lower end of the tube, slathering it not with K-Y but with petroleum jelly. I soon felt its slick length entering my empty behind; my penis erected almost instantly from the caress of the rubber against my prostate. Soon I felt a spreading warmth and fullness deep within my bowels. I gurgled contentedly as the steaming water continued to fill me, wanting to be completely impregnified by the mother of my child. "I hope you remembered that the whole gang and Moonflower are coming over tomorrow for that mushroom party. It would be really hospitable if you were to greet them wearing a maternity teddy and retaining at least three gallons of solution." She patted my slightly distended middle and inquired, "Do you think you can handle that, Sugar?"

"If the three gallons feel anything like this treatment, I was born ready!" I rejoined enthusiastically. "I can't wait to feel one of Moonflower's tummy massages when I'm holding a real gut-buster." I grinned happily, belching from the rising fullness in my colon. "Getting full," I groaned. "How much is inside me now?"

"About six quarts--a gallon and a half. You've only got one more gallon to go." She began massaging my huge middle vigorously, as if willing the water into every hidden corner of my bowels.

"Urpp, urpp," I belched loudly several moments after she began the massage. "I think I'm gonna barf."

Click!! went the clamp on the hose. Reaching behind me, she manipulated the tube so that the inner balloon of the inflatable nozzle passed from my anus into my rectum to seal off the entrance to my caecum. I belched again as she pumped the inflator six squeezes to bring the 500 cc balloon to maximum size, then followed this action up with the securing of the outer balloon to its 250 cc maximum.

I gave over to unabashed groaning as the clamp opened to deliver the last 3-4 quarts of the solution into my dangerously bloated guts. I felt near explosion, and I winced when Karen's soft right hand returned to the hugely swollen expanse of my stomach, wanting just to pass out before the pain and pressure increased any further. But relief was not in sight, for the gorgeous blonde plumper retrieved one of the industrial-duty vibrators and a Magic Fingers attachment from a shelf on the étagère, bringing into play against the beached-whale wall of my hugely inflated abdomen.

Just when I felt sure I'd either puke, pass out, or experience the terminal agony of an exploding colon, the doorbell rang. Shutting off the vibrator, Karen laid it aside and announced, "Lie as still as possible--I'll be right back." She loped away, big round soft white fanny swaying sensuously in a way that reawakened my erection at her departing image, despite the intense pressure and pain in my bloated guts.

She returned in moments with Moonflower at her side, the forty-something hippie chick with the body of a Willendorff Venus. She was clad in a clinging red leather skirt that cut about six inches above the knee, a clinging black turtleneck sweater that barely reached her impossibly deep navel, and a red leather vest that matched the skirt. On her feet were red patent leather fuck-me pumps, and she was carrying a medical bag loaded with God knows what implements. "I see you're getting your tummy irrigated after the rigorous course of treatment Andy, Trish, and Rima put you through." She bent down toward the tub and began gently rubbing the inflated dome of my belly. "I think this will do quite nicely," she observed, "when we feed him that especially nourishing supper later."

"You're actually going to make me eat with two and a half gallons of water in my bowels?" I gasped incredulously.

"Naturally," Karen and Moonflower announced in unison.

"This will help your digestion--believe me," Moonflower continued. She bent her huge fanny toward me after unzipping her skirt at the back and sliding it down to reveal her black satin crotchless panties. "First course is dessert," she announced, holding her giant globes apart with both hands.

I began to lap hungrily at her steatopygous asscheeks, wincing as she cut loose with a burst of rancid flatulence. "One thing I'll have to say for him--he's certainly getting good at this. A little tongue in my asshole, please," she directed, squirming as I began to perform my subservient act of analingus on her stenchy sphincter. "Another thing is that he seems to really enjoy his work." She farted again, which almost blew me back off my position seated with my legs folded under me. My middle began to protest mightily against the wind emanating from her gassy colon combined with the ten quarts of solution stretching my plumbing to near-bursting. After Moonflower's ass banged repeatedly against my face in a chain of powerful anal orgasms, she bent further forward, lowering her head to the floor and raising her tush so I could penetrate her bung a little deeper. "So good," she moaned. "I can't wait until you experience what we're planning to put you through tomorrow when we do those `shrooms. Now I'm sure you can get that wicked tongue much deeper into my behind." She pressed the full weight of her gargantuan ass against my face as I grabbed each of her nether cheeks to drive my oral organ as far as it could go into her fannysocket, which tasted not dirty but simply spicy.

"I imagine that Mexican breakfast we've got planned for before we drop will probably have him writhing with gas pains by the time he's been tripping for an hour or so," Karen observed. "There's nothing I like better than to see a male slave with a big gutful of gas and a crampy belly when he's stoned out of his mind with a woodie that refuses to go down." She drew Moonflower into her arms for a deep soul kiss as I continued to plunge my tongue in and out of the larger woman's fundament.

A few minutes later, the hefty earth mother rose from her position against my face, took the vibrator lying on the edge of the tub in hand, and began a slow counterclockwise massage of my vastly distended tummy. I gurgled like a colicky infant suddenly relieved, trembling at the exquisite comfort of her strong, gentle hands, which accompanied the implement's action with light strokes of her fingertips. Soon, the cramps had dissipated enough so that I just felt intense pressure from the fullness, and, as she sensed this from the lowering of my respiration rate, she laid off with the vibrator and assisted me into a seated position in the tub.

"I think he should lie down while you fix supper, Karen," Moonflower announced.

"Why don't you start the VCR; Recalcitrant Cheerleader's Enma is already insert, and still has about an hour and a half left to play. You both would enjoy watching that while you try to get him settled enough to eat his dinner."

"By the way, Karen, what's on the menu?" Moonflower regarded her archly, then reminded my blonde Venus, "You mentioned earlier that he'd have to eat an especially nutritious meal (which I take to mean filling?) while he's holding the ten-quart colonic. I'm just curious."

"Five-cheese macaroni, beans baked in molasses with jalapeños and covered with spicy nacho cheese, three bottles of Dos Equus dark, Ex-Lax brownies with two Brandy Alexanders for dessert, and a nightcap consisting of a pint of chocolate milk mixed with another twelve-ounce bottle of magnesium citrate." She regarded me with a sardonic grin in her innocent blue eyes, approaching to draw me into a hug and squeeze my asscheeks lasciviously. "This is gonna feel so wild and deliciously wicked, even though you'll be in agony. Not only will this stuff give you a lot of gas pains and cramps, I'm guessing it'll keep your dick shatteringly hard. And you'd better keep it hard, too!" She practically shouted this directive, assisting me to my feet and beckoning to Moonflower to assist her into frog-marching me to the living room couch, positioning me reclining on my left side, and handing the earth mother the remote for the VCR and TV.

As the video rolled, Moonflower began a gentle massage of my big swollen belly, her touch exquisite as it moved the water further and further up into my bowels. On the screen, Alice and Zeke were saying their goodbyes as Laura brought out blankets, sheets, and pillows for the queen bed in her guest room, handing them to Suzie and Dave before she and Doctor Doug disappeared into her bedroom. Alone at last, the teenagers regarded each other with loving stares, then the buxom blonde cheerleader asked, "Was it everything you hoped it would be, sweetheart?"

"Merely the best--I can't believe I came so hard with a belly full of soapy water. It's hard for me to even imagine keeping my dick hard through those intense cramps." He began squeezing her big tush affectionately, remarking, "I'd love to put my dick up your sweet ass before we call it a night. Have you healed enough to allow me to do that?"

"Yes--if you're gentle and don't thrust too vigorously." She returned his gesture to add, leering suggestively, "But I want to work your bottom over with a vibrator while you do me." She thrust her tongue hungrily into his mouth, eliciting a groan of lust out of control from her partner.

"How'll you get to me if I mount you dog-style?" he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Dog-style isn't the only position good for anal sex," she observed. "I could lie on my back and throw my legs over your shoulders."

"Damn, that's a sexy image. So what do we do for lube?"

"Just this," she replied, pulling a jar of Anal-Eze from her purse. "Bend over and I'll get you ready, then you can return the favor and we'll get in place on the bed. Oh, I forgot something." She sprinted away to Dave's puzzlement, returning in moments with a bath towel. "I don't want to get Laura's sheets all greasy and sticky from this stuff." She began unfolding sheets and started to make up the bed, adding, "You could help me with this is you would."

Soon they had the blanket and sheets turned down, and bent over side-by-side on the bed to begin the pleasurable task of lubricating one another's fundament, working four fingers into respective behinds by the time they decided their work was done. As Dave began to reach for her for an extended kiss, Suzie flopped down on her back, drew the vibrator off the bedside table, and beckoned him into her arms.

He gently separated her buttocks, spread them wide, and began easing his condom-covered, achingly erect dick into her tightest hole. "God, baby, everytime I'm back there I feel as if I'll come in five strokes or less. Your bunghole is just so tight and warm and smooth and sweet that I feel like I've died and gone to heaven whenever I'm in there."

"The feeling of your stiff prick in my bootie makes me feel the same way," she purred lasciviously. "Come on now--stick it in me."

It was at this point that Karen yelled from the kitchen, so Moonflower stopped the video and we went to help her dish up so we could eat and watch.