Prologue:

I am WaterLuv, erotic author, WWW Site Manager, the Master in this wet saga, WaterWay. What you will read here is kinky erotica. Now, erotica is generally fiction, although it may masquerade as reality. WaterWay, on the other hand, is a fantasy constructed with the deliberate intention of becoming reality, with certain sections being enacted by at least one reader. As you read it, this has already transpired. So, while the outer structure of the story is fiction, the improtant action is as real as reality gets.

What you read here is part of an emerging genre of erotica called cybersex. Here's how it came about.

A woman, we'll call her Mary, signed onto my WWW pages and discovered a disturbing set of stories about the use of enemas in Dominance/submission training. Mary was a lifelong fan of erotic enemas. When she was a little girl, her mom had given them to her for every ailment under the sun. At first she hated these treastments. But, over time she came to see them as a sign of her mom's love. She relished the attention, if not the bloating feeling. Then, as her budding sexuality emerged in puberty, she felt a new and wonderfull stirring in her sex one day while being enemaed over her mom's knee. From that day forward, she was hooked. Having her soft rear exposed, lubed and invaded became a wondrous source of release for her.

Mary's problem was this. She wanted to do some of the thrilling, at-the-edge stuff she read about in my D/s enema stories. But she found herself unable to get even a single two-quart enema into her small frame without exploding in involuntary orgasm. No touching, no vibrators. Just the pressure and surging feeling of the hot water entering her and off she went.

Mary e-mailed me asking for help. She wanted me to teach her to hang on, to take the big, four-quart enemas described in the D/s enema section of my Web Site. I took on this delightful task, and composed this story as the tool to accomplish it. In the story, there are three main characters. Mary, Jazmand and me. Part of the story is just background, intended to fan the fires of Mary's desire and prepare her to stretch her limits. But, throughout the tale, from chapter 3 forward, there are specific instructions for Mary to act out. Her Master's orders are always [enclosed in brackets] as shown here. Wherever bracketed taxt occurs, Mary, my on-line enema subbie, has already acted out the story and e-mailed me a dripping wet, sexy description of how it made her feel.

Perhaps some of you would like to follow in her steps. Others may just wish to read, content in the knowledge that what you are reading is not mere fantasy, but a real scene, enacted in many hot variations, by adventurous people around you.

_______________________________________________________________

Foreward to Mary (And to any readers who act this out):

On behalf of you, I did this. Honest to a fault, I have to preface this with a frank admission. I'm a very visual person. Very sense oriented would be even a better description. Sight, touch, sound, smell, all of them powerfully affect me. I had no image of you, no hint of your moans as you reach your release, no scent of sexual passion left by you, so I concocted a fantasy that would fill in for these elements being missing. I stopped by the magazine rack and picked up the June '96 issue of a new-to-me magazine called Black Tail. I imagined that I would, as part of your training, do a private show for you with one of these women. She would help me by taking a massive enema, showing you the heights of ecstasy attainable with a huge onslaught of water and enough dripping sex to keep the recipient driving for more. Needless to say, Black Tail was full of hot, cum coaxing cuties, but there was a faux innocence about Jazmand that made her the clear choice. Jazmand would perform with me.

You may notice that, as the mood seems to dictate, I meander from present to past tense, back to present and even past perfect tenses. This is not due to any lack of knowledge about the terrible sin involved in doing such, but simply indicates a casual disregard for conventions when they stand in the way of telling my story. I hope you can look past this indiscretion to enjoy the far more serious indecorous action the tale expounds.

When you come to items in brackets [like this] you are to do just what the bracketed instructions say, and e-mail me ASAP afterwards telling about the experience, the feelings it coaxed from your core, etc. etc. The more detail you can offer about your experience, the more I can hone this to your needs.

Enjoy, and learn.

WaterLuv

WaterWay -- Chapter 10

The Water's Something In There

When we got back to The Alexander, Madame Brighton's package was already there awaiting us. This would be the additional things I'd ordered on the written list, things that neither Jazmand nor you were aware would be available for tonight's play. I love surprises -- nice ones, that is. I arranged with the desk clerk to have the large parcel delivered to our suite, telling her that we would be in the bar for a time, and to just have the package placed in the closet of the front room. I also asked that she have the bellman turn off the air conditioning in the suite. She was, perhaps, mildly puzzled by these requests, but agreed to comply. I simply explained that I was arranging a surprise for my girlfriends. This seemed to satisfy her, at least enough so that she accepted a tip for herself and one for the bellman in compensation therefore.

What with our getting tired out from Friday evening's water play, and Rashad's rearranging of our Saturday morning plans, our original intent for the weekend, expanding your horizons toward the mastery of four quarts, had been somewhat delayed. Time to get back on track. This afternoon and evening would be devoted to that task. The half hour in the bar would give us time to talk over plans, and to unwind after the day's hectic activities. As the two of you were finishing your drinks, I excused myself to go to our room and prepare things.

Within minutes, we were again united in the suite. To get the party underway quickly, I instructed that we all three prepare ourselves by taking two quart cleansing enemas. I didn't want us to just creep away to separate baths and do this. Of course, three enemas in two bathrooms is a difficult piece of mathematics anyway, so there was this practical limit to consider. Much more, though, I wanted it to be the first step in recovering the sense of oneness we had felt the night before. Thus, we undressed and gathered in the Master bath to prepare three bags. For this round, I brought out three brand new 2 1/2 quart pink-latex pumpkin bags from Madame Brighton's collection, your first hint that there were delights as yet unknown to be discovered as the evening progressed. The appearance of the unexpected toys created a palpable sense of anticipation in the two of you. What would be next?

With bags filled, we moved back to the living room. From its closet, I extracted my second treat, a heavy IV stand, which I positioned behind the long couch facing the large-screen TV. I placed a tape in the VCR, and set the remote on the coffee table in front of the couch. To the right of the sofa, a full-length liding-glass door opened onto the balcony overlooking the docks of the Intracoastal Waterway. I opened the glass, allowing a mild Florida breeze to sweep the last remnants of refrigerated air from the room. With all the lights out in the late afternoon light, the thin-gauze inner curtains of the balcony door lent just enough scrim-like privacy to the dusky room to keep our activities from prying eyes.

We were nearly ready to watch our movie. In keeping with the evening of surprises, I would not tell you what it would be. I only said that, before it even started, we must each tend to lubricating our target for the next act. I directed that we stand and form a circle, hand in hand. "Whoever your left hand is touching is your target," I explained. "Now, let's lube our target enemate."

Mary, you were my enemate. Jazmand was to your left. Already, her greased finger was sliding into me. I dug out a glob of petroleum jelly from the jar on the coffee table, and pushed my slickened finger slowly, tantalizingly into your inviting ass. With patient, insistent probing, I worked away the tension from your sphincter, preparing you for the delights to come. You were rooting in Jazmand's ample rear, passing every delicious sensation I was giving you on to your enemate partner.

"Good. Now insert nozzles." With more than a little regret, we withdrew our busy fingers, pulled nozzles from bags, and gently pushed them into the waiting, thirsty ass to our left. "That's it!" I said. "Let's kiss."

The three of us tightened our circle. Facing toward one another, our three lips met for a lingering, lust building kiss. Passion was beginning to flow through this circle in an almost mysterious way. However, the heat we were feeling was just a hint of what was to come. We broke our kiss and sat on the couch with legs drawn up under us. Now it was time for the movie to begin.

A push of the button and the TV/VCR sprang into life. As the opening screen filled with a bogus studio logo, WaterLuv Eternal, I fired the starting gun, "Now, open your enemate's clamp." I snapped your enema to life while Jaz opened mine. My cock delighted to the silken touch of your flesh as you leaned from the left end of the couch, crossed over my nozzle-impaled body, and turned on Jazmand's flow.

Soon the logo faded and the screen flickered to life with a picture of you and me kissing. We were in a bathroom, standing near the door. The room, you quickly recognized as the bath off the Master bedroom at my Key West estate. Aha. The hidden cameras I had mentioned as we left Jazmand last night to expel her enema while we carried on in the adjacent bath. Now we would see how she had entertained herself, and us, via this tape.

As we broke our televised kiss, I turned my head to look across the room to where you now recalled Jazmand had sat enthroned. The camera panned to follow the action, a little piece of preprogrammed robotics of which I am rather proud. There before us on the TV screen was lovely, dusky-skinned Jazmand, hands clutching her enema-distended belly as she rocked on the padded toilet seat. To anyone familiar with what she was feeling, her pregnant pose was the sure beginning of an incredibly lusty performance.

Now off camera, my voice offered the first explanation of what these images were to display. "Jazmand, Mary and I will leave you alone to expel your enema, dear. But make a sexy show of it. This room is equipped with hidden cameras. Your every sound and act will be recorded, and the instant replay will have a prominent role in our next act, so do a smashing job of it, my darling."

She did not disappoint. As we sat, feet drawn up, on the couch watching with rapt anticipation, Jazmand began by massaging her swollen abdomen, occasionally letting a hand stray as low as her soaked thatch, scooping up some of her slipperiness to spread across the taut flesh of her tummy. With each stroke, she became wetter, and the area of flesh getting her musk smeared on it wider. Soon, her hands were spreading love syrup over the twin swells of her breasts. Her face showed the obvious rapture her self pleasuring was generating.

I felt the first pressure and cramping build within me as my own enema brought me ever closer to the Nirvana Jazmand was experiencing on screen. Soon, the water forced past whatever the blockage was, and rushed deeper into my waiting body, eliciting a sigh of relief/pleasure from my heated core. I looked to my left and could see you were lost in similar feelings. To my right, Jazmand was already shamelessly masturbating to match her televised performance.

Still, in the tape, no water had splashed into the bowl on which she sat. As her heat rose, so did she. She crossed the room, being picked up by robotic camera, following a heat source. The enema bag that had recently emptied two quarts of steaming water into her bottom was now hanging to dry in the sunken tub. She retrieved it and refilled it. Hanging it from the shower curtain, she pushed the oversized nozzle deep into her backside, then sat back on the toilet and opened the clamp. As the water sprayed into her already full innards, she went to work in earnest at masturbating her hot pussy.

Her left hand, still fragrant with your juices, she held by her nose, remembering the intoxicating experience of feasting upon your feminine outflow.

As the swollen bag dwindled in girth, her already bloated middle expanded like some giant weather balloon. Soon, her belly button was protruding as much as her rigidly erect nipples. Orgasmic bliss was written all over her face. She took her left hand from her nose, and grabbed the nozzle buried so high in her rectum. She began to furiously fuck her own ass with it. All the while, her fingers on her clit worked at an equal pace. In triumph, as the bag gurgled its signal that she'd now taken four quarts, she threw her head back in abandon, growling to an orgasm that had her every vein pulsing, distorting the smooth skin of her body. Her lips were curled back in pleasure/pain. Torrents of water washed out of her in spasmodic rhythm, pulsing in time to the beat of her climaxing body.

Her attainment was complete. Four quarts of hot, churning water had disappeared into her ample rear. First with the two of us, and again on tape at her own hand, she had reached states of release that could not be described short of religious ecstasy. She had been at one with the universe, worshipping with her body the creator that had made her and all she worshipped with. In a palpable sense, the creator had been there with her, worshipping, drawing the exultation from her soul.

And her performance had kept the three of us enraptured while two hot quarts of cleansing water drained into each of us. We couldn't really say how long the bags had been deflated, but our pumpkins no longer had their ripe, bloated form. Now, they hung, no bigger around than my arm, deflated, ribs standing bare.

Taking care not to spill, we slipped the nozzles out of our asses and rose to release this first cleansing load. At my direction, we all went to the larger bath, which I suppose was intended to indicate the Master bedroom, since both bedrooms were of similar size and decor. I had straws at the ready, and we drew to see who would be first to release. The lot fell to Jazmand. She sat with pride and immediately began a course of self pleasuring similar to what we'd just seen in her video.

"Jazmand," I instructed, "Don't cum. Nobody cums yet."

"Yes, Master," she answered, with not a little regret sheltered in her voice.

With that, she let out a long, high-pressure burst of enema water, shuddering from the pleasure of its release. The stench of her shit began to fill the room. I drew close to her, knelt before her and took the straining nipple of her right breast into my mouth. You also approached, and carefully knelt to kiss her. This was our time to acknowledge that my shit stinks too. We would have no barriers between us for this night.

With the first burst of water out of Jazmand, I tore off a bit of toilet paper and gently padded the brown water and shit from her perfect little rosebud. I let you climb on the mud-filled toilet next, knowing you were not yet accustomed to forced retention. Jazmand immediately started Frenching you, sucking a deep sigh from your pressurized lungs. I kissed along your navel and let my cheeks press on your turgid tummy. Shit, water and gas sprayed out of you in a noxious, noisy cataract. The refried beans had done their dirty work.

After your spray and farting ceased, I patted your rounded rear clean with paper, then moved my own overflowing ass onto the throne. Jazmand missed not a second. She sank her open, inviting mouth slowly down my erection, bringing her face down to within inches of where the dirty flood from the two of you now filled the toilet bowl. Unble to bear the pressure together with the exquisite feelings her cock sucking generated, I let go of an equally putrid downpour.

Next, Jazmand, then you, then me again. Round and round, each time with deeper, more impassioned kissing, licking and sucking, till we were all three well drained of water, but now full of unspent passion, our bodies hypersensitive, yearning for more sexual stimulation.

The latex costumes were next on the agenda for the evening. We opened the days' treasures, with appropriate oohs and ahs. With all the sexy things, decisions were not easy. You want it all at once. I was sorely tempted to have you in the nylon briefs with the access slot in the rear, and Jaz in those silk panties with the see through back. I could make long, passionate love to you while she had to watch. Then we could pull her panties down and expose her wetness. We could punish her for being so horny, and watching us. But latex it would be, and latex would provide us all the heat we needed to head toward core meltdown.

We toweled all the perspiration and water off, then lovingly applied baby powder to one another. I slipped into a latex tee shirt and latex jock. Black leather wrist bands, wide and ominous, added to the mystique of the look. Meanwhile, the two of you helped each other squeeze into the skintight catsuits. The ones we'd chosen were two part, with a back-zipper

ed blouse and panty-hose like bottom snapping under a belted waist. This allowed the user to peel off the bottom half when access to genitals became an absolute must. Over the form hugging suits, you fastened the latex skirts. The look was superbly kinky, the kind that just makes your stomach roil when you first see it. Plus, the practical benefit was that, even if you shed the bottom, you still were completely clad in latex with the full skirt, only now all your most secret parts were open to anyone inside the folds of the black-rubber canopy.

The thought of the warm, rubber-and-pussy-perfumed ambiance I'd find up there had me primed like a top-fuel dragster, up to the line. Have you ever felt that wound up? Like the engine is floored, you're standing on the brakes to hold back the earth shaking roar of 1,250 horses, watching the yellow lights blink in sequence, waiting for the green. It's knowing that soon, so very soon, the smell of rubber will be everywhere and you'll be hurtling along, all your familiar, stationary surroundings turned into a rattling, quaking blur.

We lounged on the latex-covered mattress in the Master bedroom. Kissing so deep. Sucking little sighs and panting breaths from one another. Feeling the incredible sensuality of latex-encased flesh. Rubbing, a breast, the softly curving rise of a bottom, a tightly sheathed thigh, a pussy, denied my touch by the thin, sensual covering. The warm Florida air washing over us. Perspiration making the latex slippery, sexy on our skins, adding just a faint touch to the symphony of scent, a beautiful aria sung so lightly now that it is only the faintest of impressions, but without

it the entire piece would soon fall flat.

Thus lost in romantic images and fantastic thoughts, we drifted, necking, cuddling, kissing, tasting. How long. An hour. More. I only know the sun was gone. Slipping on a robe for modesty, I rose and went to the living room, closing the heavy privacy curtains to the balcony. The two of you were still wrapped around each other, mouths pressed tightly together, when I returned with the IV stand in hand.

I said nothing, but went to the bath and prepared my old four-quart bag. attaching an double balloon enema catheter to it. The new bag, the one you had requested to be enemaed with, I would save for just that purpose. This would be Jazmand's time to show you how to hold four quarts without it driving her over the edge into orgasmic bliss. Frankly, I didn't think that, with the intensity of your petting, she could do it. Not to worry, though2E I knew just how I'd handle it when she failed.

Telling you not to break up your love lock, I stated that I was back, and that it was now time for Jazmand to demonstrate her four-quart retention principles for her Mistress. She made a muffled sound of acquiescence, the best she could do with her mouth full of your probing kisses. I unsnapped her latex bottoms and slid them down far enough to expose her perfect valley. She was so worked up from all the kissing and necking with you, so wet from sweat and love juice, that she hardly needed any lubrication. Nonetheless, I lovingly slid my KY covered finger in and out of her, massaging her open for the double balloon enema catheter.

I pushed the tip of the big rubber nozzle into her and, with a screwing motion and no small amount of coaxing, worked the first deflated balloon of the double balloon enema catheter into business position. With the nozzle in place, I grabbed the inflator bulb, and gave it three healthy squeezes. The balloon, now just inside Jazmand's anal opening, sprang to life and grew to the size of a tennis ball. Pulling the nozzle back to secure the inner balloon tightly against her anal sphincter, I inflated the outer balloon, sitting just outside her lubricated opening. Now the nozzle was firmly in place. It could not pull out nor be forced too deep inside. There it would remain, forming a leak-proof seal, until the inner balloon was deflated. Installing the double balloon enema catheter had given Jazmand a medley of sensations. Each new feeling in the black girl's rear brought more sounds of pleasure from her.

With the plumbing of her ass done, I draped the tubing of the double balloon enema catheter along her crack and pulled her latex pants back up to hold all in place. Jazmand's challenge would be to withhold her orgasm in the face of the swirling excitement of your petting session. I would not complicate her task with any stimulation of her genitalia, nor did I think I'd have to. I was certain, as agitated as she already was, that the pressure of four quarts of water inflating her like a balloon within her tight rubber casing would do the entire job. Jazmand would violate the "No-Fly Zone" and thus fall victim to more delicious punishments in retribution.

To ensure that she understood the challenge, and that her thoughts would be focused on it, I announced the rules before beginning. "Jazmand!" She barely stirred, mumbling acknowledgment through her impassioned kisses. "You are to take the entire 4 quart enema this time without having an orgasm. Do not climax until I give you permission. Do you understand?"

"Mmmmmm-hunnn. Ummmah." moaned through her lesbian love-lock.

I took that to mean yes, she understood. That being the case, there was no need to further deprive her the intense, rotic stimulation of the warm water filling her as she made out so intensely with you. I opened the valve and the huge, bulging four-quart bag began to empty into Jazmand's exquisite ass.

Immediately, when she felt the flow begin to invade her rectum, her moans and cries took on a new, insistent fervor. She began mewing in almost catlike fashion. She was lying on her left side, facing you. Her right hand had been at your breast, but the enema brought her attention lower. She dropped her hand to your fanny and pulled your body into her. Her torso took on a rocking motion, her burgeoning belly moving against your midsection.

Her ass, thrusting back then drawing near you again, gave the appearance she was fucking herself on the nozzle. In reality, though, it followed her every move, relentless, pouring pint after pint of hot agitation into her bowels. Already the bag was about halfway deflated. Two quarts yet remained to bloat the girl while she clung to her composure, fighting the desire to just give in and let the flood of water wash her over the edge of orgasmic bliss.

Your hands were roaming her body, searching out every telltale swelling of her latex-covered form, every evidence of the heat building in her. You traced the bulge of her belly, her slim-waisted form now transformed into the look of an expectant mother. The bag now held little more than a quart. Surely she would soon give birth to something.

The internal pressure in Jazmand's bowels was now quite substantial. The water, which had flooded her so rapidly at the onset, now flowed in at a slow but relentlessly steady pace. Jazmand, awash in sexual feelings from her lips to her hips, stretched beyond belief by the huge enema, was panting and purring as if she'd entered another world.

As the final pint of water filled her, her mewing took on a forceful quality. No longer was she a kitten. She was a lioness in full rut. Her buttocks began to tremble in rhythmic undulations. Her sounds alone were nearly enough to bring me over the edge. "Mmmmmmuuunah. Uuuummmmmmaah."

"Jazmand! Don't cum!" I ordered in a very stern tone.

That was all it took. Her abdomen, ballooned full of enema, had stretched her latex catsuit tight against her dripping sex. Every breath was sending rippling currents of ecstasy through her. Now, focusing her energy on resisting the irresistible, she let loose. "Oooohmmmmm-Naaaaaghhhh!!!! Ooowwwwuu-Nah, Ooowwwwuu-Neah," Over and over, reverberating as her body trembled, a wind-shaken leaf at the end of the vine-like enema hose. Jungle beat, in heat, singing the song of the ages. Language of the universal truth. "Ummmmuh, uuunnah."

I pumped my pants full of cum with nothing but her sex show to set me free. Fortunately, being separate of the physical embrace, I was able to regain my composure in time to keep the scene moving. "Jazmand," I said, "that was the most incredibly HOT thing I've ever seen. Now, honey, we've got to break you two apart and get you to the toilet."

As you separated, Jaz was still shaking with the aftershocks of her enormous climax, still making unintelligible little mewing sounds like a contented kitten. We helped the agitated beauty stagger to her feet, and hobble toward the bath, moving ever so cautiously so as not to lose the huge load flooding her guts. When we reached the toilet, I unsnapped her catsuit bottom and pulled it slowly down, fighting to bring it free of her swollen, pregnant looking belly. With her ass positioned over the toilet, holding herself in a near squat, I deflated the inner balloon of the double balloon enema catheter. It popped from her like a cork from a champagne bottle, driven by a torrent of nearly clear water. At the same time, you reunited with her, continuing your lesbian-love show, this kiss opening the second act.

"Feeling the rush of enema spraying from her, the intensity of your kiss sucking the soul of her lust again up into her throat, all this brought her right back up the peak from which she'd just descended. Her legs began to visibly shake as she started to orgasm once more.

"Jazmand, sweetheart, you are such a sexy sight," I told her. "Look at here, your show was so hot you made me cum in my latex jock. Look, it's full of jiz now."

I peeled it down to prove my point. Jazmand broke away from her kiss for a moment. She saw my cock, still throbbing hard, and all covered with slippery jism. Her eyes met mine with a plea for permission, to which I nodded assent.

Both of you moved your mouth to my sodden sex, lapping up the spoils of your carnal show. I was totally beside myself. All systems on sexual overload. Jazmand spraying out her release, quivering flesh cumming as she sucked my cum-soaked cock deep into her throat. Your tongue teasing around her lips and down to my against my cum-swollen balls. Too much. Way too much.

Only by the most stalwart force of will was I able to pull my throbbing cock from Jazmand's demanding suction before it exploded again with the load of cum building down in my nucleus. I had to break away, or we would fuck and suck ourselves into oblivion again before completing the lesson plan we had established for you. I did it. Pulled away. Jazmand's slip

pery saliva left a sheen on my member, highlights sparkling over each pulsing vein. My balls ached with desire to spray her mouth full.

"Jazmand," I said, struggling for the control needed to speak, "You just put on the most incredibly sexy show I have ever seen in all my days. One problem though, darling. I told you not to cum, and you did. So, now you're going to have to be punished for your disobedience."

"Well," I continued, "at least you showed Mary that 4 quarts can be done. Now, you just have to show her you can do it without popping a gasket. Mary, how would you like to see Jazmand to have her next treatment.""Well, Master," you said, "I would love to see you use my new dildo nozzle on her."

Jazmand had been squirming on the toilet seat, still spraying out an occasional burst of residual water. She really came alive upon hearing your prescription for her. Clearly, she had been waiting for a chance to feel the invasion of this monster in her sensitive flesh.

When the last dregs of the four-quart flood had drained from Jazmand's small intestines (anything over about two quarts generally forces past the ileum and begins to fill the small intestines) we cleaned her and slipped the latex pants from her legs. She still wore her top and the full, rubber skirt.

I removed the double balloon enema catheter from the four-quart bag, and replaced it with the new nozzle we'd gotten from Madame Brighton's shop. It was the diameter of a big, fully erect penis. It even had veins molded into it to add to the sensations as it slithered into Jazmand's now sensitized anal opening. It was made of a slippery-surfaced rubber about the same stiffness as an erect male organ. It was at least 14 inches long. The length was important. That way, there would be plenty of nozzle to grasp even when it was bottomed out, deep in her waiting rectum. With this thing, she would get a righteous ass fucking right along with her next enema. I could easily see why you were so anxious to watch our submissive slave put on a show on the end of this thing.

With the huge dildo attached, we filled the bag with a fresh charge of steaming water, just short of feeling hot to the wrist. Next, we led our trembling charge back to the latex-covered bed. We hung the bag high on the IV stand. I positioned Jaz on her hands and knees in the middle of the bed. This time, we'd give her a fighting chance of holding her orgasm back against the tremendous pressure of the big enema. We would have no kissing or licking of her body. The only thing that would touch her flesh would be the big cock-like intruder splitting her rear.

I hiked her rubber skirt up and bunched it around her waist. Her precious moons were open and thrust upwards, inviting invasion. "Mary, use some KY jelly, and lube Jazmand's ass and put some on this thing too," I said, holding the dildo nozzle out to you. It's best not to use petroleum jelly to lubricate rubber toys."

You went to the appointed work with obvious delight. Soon, both Jazmand and the dildo had a generous coating of KY. You noted how the slippery stuff smelled strangely similar to the musk of the black girl's cunt.

With Jaz prepared, her chest heaving in anticipation, I placed the monster nozzle against her tight rosebud. "Jazmand, take a deep breath," I instructed. "Good girl. Now, breathe out and push like you're trying to spray out a load of enema water."

Jazmand did as commanded, and, as she opened herself to the invader, I pushed it into her alluring ass. Three inches of the massive tool slid easily into her.

"Ungh-mmmmm," the girl breathed. Yesssss. Enema me again, Master. Mistress. I love it when you fill me soooo full." Jazmand was already beside herself, and I hadn't even opened the clamp, releasing the hoot flood of water into her sensitized bowels. I wondered, privately, if she'd be able to contain herself this time.

"Now remember, before I open the flow valve, Jazmand; you are not to let this make you cum. You understand, don't you?"

"Umm-hunh!" she groaned, as I thrust another 3 inches of tool up her backside.

With a good six inches buried in her rectum, I opened the valve. Hot water rushed into her now empty bowels.

"Eeeeeeewwwwwwww!!!! Jaz moaned, as she clenched her eyes shut and grimaced. I knew she wanted the cock-nozzle pumping in and out of her just like my own cock was lusting to do. I knew also from her shallow, panting breathing that she's never take four quarts without cuming if I did that to her. So, tempting though it was to butt-fuck this beauty submitting he

rself to me, I refrained. I just gave her the immense enema. That should be enough.

On and on the water rushed, expanding her midsection again to that six-months-pregnant look that is so ultra-sultry on Jaz. I talked to her through her ordeal, telling her how sexy she looked. "honestly, Jazmand, if anything could look sluttier than you getting a big enema, it would be on the Federal Controlled-Substances List. Oh, girl, you are the very best. You look so pregnant, naughty girl. Big tool up you and swelling your tummy. See how you are."

Jazmand was in enema heaven again, legs trembling, panting and moaning, bucking her hips back to get more of the big dildo into her.

I let her get just enough stimulation from the dildo so that she could take the full four quarts without feeling the pain of it stretching her abdomen. There's a very fine line between what hurts, what feels good enough to want more, and what takes you over the line to release. We had to walk that line.

You were standing there in your full catsuit, watching Jazmand's lewd show, shamelessly rubbing your fingers over your latex-covered mons. I would have been doing the same to my overheated tool, but I knew I had to keep my full attention on Jazmand's torment. Too excited, and I'd never make the tightrope walk needed to get her through this enema without one or both of us exploding.

Finally, barely audible over Jazmand's rasping breath, I heard the gurgle of the last water leaving the big bag. Jazmand had done it. "There, Mary. Check the bag," I said. "I think she's done it! She's got four full quarts of steaming water and six inches of cock-sized nozzle up her hot heinie, and she still hasn't cum. You see, it can be done."

"Aughhhh! Ummmm! Just takes practice," Jazmand grimaced.

"Great," you fired back. "When can I get started practicing?"

"Well, not just yet," I laughed. "I think the two of us owe Jaz a treat

for being such a good enema slave. Don't you agree, Mary."

"Ummmm. Treating her sounds good to me," you replied.

I slid onto the now wet latex bed, face up, under Jazmand's kneeling form, my mouth in line with her dripping sex. You straddled my waist, face toward the black girl. Grasping my rigid erection, you positioned it for insertion. I didn't know which hole you would pick, and didn't really care. You chose the rear, wanting, I guess, to feel what Jazmand was feeling with the huge rubber cock parting her ass cheeks. Slowly, teasingly, you sank your weight onto my straining flesh.

Feeling your tight ass swallow my heat, I began thrusting the nozzle into Jazmand while I went wild with my mouth on her woman flesh. I drank deeply, thirsty for the release that only her tang could provide. Her ass hole was just an inch from my eyes, and I was cross-eyed watching as I poked that huge piece of rubber ever deeper into her.

I set up a rhythm in her core, pumping the big piston in and out like a plunger, agitating the huge load of water filling her every crevice. She could feel the flood squashing around in her, making strange gurgling sounds, generating unspeakable feelings in her burning center.

Jazmand was right at the edge of orgasm when this began. As soon as the ass fucking started, she bellowed out a primal scream that I'm sure was heard a block away. Without waiting for her to fall silent, you glued your mouth to hers in a torrid soul kiss, muffling her continued groans. Your body started shaking up and down, your ass snake dancing on the straining meat filling your seat. You and I both added our cries to the song of release being poured out by Jaz.

How long we danced I do not know. I came to when I felt a drizzle of enema squirting past the pole in Jazmand's asshole. The water was nearly clear, barely scented with the fecund soil of her inner reaches, but it was a clarion call that the time had come for her to let out the flood inside her. We untangled ourselves, dripping of cum, and once more helped the belly-swollen girl to the bath.

After assisting her expulsion, we were all exhausted. It was all we could manage to crawl back and collapse atop the latex-covered bed.