I was in a comfortable place; I was surfacing through the darkness. There was wet warmth around my cock, it was moving, and I broke through my sleep and ejaculated. Her mouth was sucking on my cock; her hands were stroking a dildo and a nozzle simultaneously in and out of her ass and pussy. The hot shot of cum in her mouth brought her to orgasm. She shuddered and sucked harder, draining my passage of the residual cum, and then she relaxed, keeping the objects buried in her orifices and my cock in her mouth.

Finally she opened her eyes and looked at me. I asked her, “Why didn’t you wait until I was awake. You know that the foreplay is more to my liking.” “I am sorry, I was beside myself with passion, I had to cum and I had to taste you, I was wrong to do that.” I arose and went to the kitchen, leaving her to ponder her fate. I made breakfast, and then summoned her to join me. We ate in silence, the tension hanging like a cloud.

When the dishes were done, I walked into the playroom and sat on a chair. She followed me but remained standing by the door. “You were disobedient, disobedience commands punishment, what should your punishment be, should I put you over my knee and spank you like a child?” She said nothing but walked over to the fixture, spread her legs wider than ever before, then lay down across the shoulder support with her arms straight out beside her. She had chosen her punishment. I know she was remembering the pleasure she had experienced on the fixture, but I doubt if she knew how miserable it could be under different circumstances.

I arose and proceeded to strap her in place. Ankles pulled even farther apart then secured. Wrists tightly strapped down, then the shoulder strap. Finally the big strap across the small of her back to keep her hips immobile against the crossbar. The surgical tape applied to the inside of her buttocks, then pulled taunt to reveal her anus. The flesh stretched out of its normal shape, no longer globes but flat tissue with a wrinkled opening at the center. The room was quiet, only breathing breaking the silence, then the click of the lid being removed from the jar echoed off the walls.

I scooped up a large gob of the grease with my middle finger, and then with my left thumb and forefinger, pried her anus open. I pushed the gob into the oblong shaped hole, and then pressed my finger in. Most of the grease was inside her;

I moved my finger around spreading it as far as I could into her, and then pulled my finger out. I waited, and then she responded. The smell and the burning identified what I had put into her. The medicinal smell of the Vicks wafted over her nose to amplify the burning of her anus. She was squirming as much as possible against the restraints, but the movement was minimal because of the bindings. I washed my hands.

I produced the syringe I had procured at a swap meet. It was glass, a cylinder and plunger; the tip of the cylinder was tapered like an ear probe used by the doctor to look inside your ears. It must have been for veterinary use since it was so large. I removed the plunger, made sure she was watching, then opened a new tube of K-Y and squeezed it into the cylinder. I opened another one and squeezed it into the cylinder also. This almost filled it to capacity. I inserted the plunger into the cylinder, then placed the tip of the cylinder on her burning Ring of Fire, and pressed in the plunger. The first motion forced the tip into her dilated orifice, then when the resistance of the sphincter overcame the friction of the plunger the plunger moved down the cylinder injecting the lubricant into her. She moaned in relief thinking the cool lubricant would satiate the burning, but it was not to be, the tip was well beyond her sphincter where the concentration of the Vicks was present. When the plunger bottomed out, I removed the cylinder and let her adjust to the injection. “I am going to have you lubricate the colon tube yourself during insertion; I don’t like having the mess of the pre-lubed tube on my hands, especially since I will be using a bigger tube.”

She was squirming now and her bowels were reacting to the K-Y, wanting to expel it. I picked up her head by the hair, then looking sternly into her eyes said, “Do not allow any leakage” She shuddered at those words, not knowing exactly what I would happen if she allowed it.

My mind was running wild; I decided to fill both of her reservoirs. I rotated her onto her back; the sight of her squeezing her anus to retain the grease was very erotic. I picked up a bottle of moisturizing cream that was safe for internal use, placed the applicator tip against the hole of her urethra, then squeezed the bottle filling that small passage. This was done to aid me in the next step. I placed a pan on the floor, opened a sterile package containing a catheter, put one end in the pan and began pushing the other end into her. The cream allowed it to enter her easily. When it broke through the small sphincter in her bladder, it filled with urine and drained her quickly. I removed the catheter. I knew it left a strange feeling in her passage, but the cream prevented the normal burning that resulted in the process. She was focusing all her attention on me now, wondering what I was going to do next.

I opened another sterile package containing a catheter and connected it to a bag of distilled water. I purged the air out of the tubing and hung the bag from the pole. I spread her lips and pushed the tube into her. I felt the resistance when it reached her bladder, then felt it slip past the sphincter. She watched, and then shuddered as she saw me unwrap a syringe with a small needle attached. I stuck the needle into the base of the bag of water and filled it. Then I pushed it into the sheath of the catheter and emptied the syringe. This filled the retaining pocket on the Foley catheter inside her bladder, preventing it from slipping out of the bladder. I pulled on the tube to make sure it was firmly seated, she moaned as she felt it pull her innards towards her slit. I placed a pressure cuff around the bag, the kind used for taking blood pressure, then began pumping the bulb to squeeze the bag and force the water into her bladder; I could see her lower abdomen swell with the filling. When she began complaining, I clamped the tube in two places with hemostats about 8 inches below her slit, then cut the tube between them. I forced a tapered plug into the end of the tube sticking out of her, then removed the clamp and allowed the tube to hang free from her slit. It would stay there forever, trapping the fluid in her bladder until the bulb inside was allowed to collapse. I had no intention of allowing that for the rest of the day.

I positioned her so she could watch the preparations. The first thing I set aside was an inflatable butt plug, I squeezed the bulb until it grew into a grotesque looking mass that would be inside her colon, pushing her bowel walls apart and sealing the orifice even tighter than the Foley Catheter in her bladder. The realization of what I had in store for her was beginning to sink in, this was not some frivolous sexual exercise, and it would truly indeed be a punishment. I noticed that the full bladder pressing on the abdominal cavity was intensifying the need for her bowel to expel the foreign grease inside it. I watched as she struggled to maintain control of her sphincter. I released the valve on the inflatable plug and let it collapse to a state that would permit insertion.

The next item was the large colon tube, the large 4-quart bag, a package of Epsom Salt, and a bottle of lemon juice. I began mixing the punishment solution. My mind drifted perhaps when she was full and unable to take anymore, the plug inserted and inflated, I might dress her, and take her out in public. The tube and bulb from the plug along with the tube from the catheter hanging down between her legs, swaying against her as we walked, her holding on to me for support from the debilitating cramps. Then the pleading, the agreeing to do anything I wished, anything to get relief, even if it meant emptying herself in a public place, anything to rid herself of the pain. Yes, it would be an interesting day. I stirred the concoction and began filling the bag.

The End