Souvenir of Budapest

Many thanks to HMAuthor for all the hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version.

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Magda didn't keep it a secret that she went through a wild phase while she was a student in Budapest.

By the time I met her, she was the hottest real estate agent in town in both senses. I don't know whether it was her beautiful face, her curves, her good nature, her sense of humor or the sexy Hungarian accent that closed all her escrows; probably some of each.

I fell hard, and for some reason, she chose me, although I thought all the other guys she was dating were better looking than me and had a lot more money. Still, our marriage was a good one, and two children made it stronger and made her even more beautiful to me.

We had a good love life, with lots of variety; at least I thought so. Most of it was comfortable, but we would occasionally surprise each other with spontaneous ideas, and each of us usually enjoyed the surprises. I was less daring and never tried anything that I thought might be uncomfortable for her. She didn't limit herself like that. Occasionally, I declined some of her more unusual ideas.

One of them was sticking her fingers in my ass. One finger was all right and even felt good when she moved it around as we made love, but sometimes she stuck a second finger in. That bothered me, and I stopped her. One time, before I could do that, she put a third finger in, and I jumped up.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You know," I said. "I don't like that."

"You are so unadventurous," she said. "You never want to try anything new."

"You know that's not true," I said. "I just don't like how that feels, and you want to take it even further, don't you?"

"Yes, I admit it," she said. "I promise you I would be careful. I'm certain you could take all my fingers and even my whole hand in there and more. It just takes practice. The human body is very adaptable. You might enjoy it, or you might hate it. But unless you let me try, how will you ever know for sure?"

"I already know that I'll hate it," I said, "and I don't need to know for sure."

"Every time you try something new, I go along," she said. "Sometimes, I really like it, sometimes it does nothing for me and sometimes I can't stand it. I always tell you later, when we're done, when I know for sure.

"If I didn't do that, we wouldn't be doing many of exciting things we love to do. It's not fair that I'm the only one who takes the risks when you benefit as much as me."

"You know that if you say you don't want to do something, I would never pressure you to do it," I said. "Why won't you do the same for me."

"You're not listening," she said. "How would I know I don't want to do something unless I do it once? How would you know? Oh never mind!"

By that time, we were both out of the mood, so I turned on my night light and went back to the book I was reading before we began getting amorous. She went back to emails on her iPad. After an hour, I turned off my light and went to sleep. She was still working on her emails.

About a week later, she told me she wanted to take a vacation without the kids this year, because she wanted to show me around Budapest, and the toddlers were too young for the trip. A few months later, we left the kids with my parents and flew off.

She didn't have any family left in Hungary, because they had all moved to the States, but her college girlfriend, Juliska, still lived in Budapest and greeted us at the airport. She was another beauty, and her body was even more voluptuous than Magda's. She showed it off in some skimpy and slutty outfits as the three of us explored the city for four days.

A lot of other beauties crossed our path as we wandered the streets, and most of them were dressed like Juliska rather than Magda, whose outfits, considered risque at home, looked tame by comparison to what young women in Budapest wore. There was something about Juliska that was a little out there, and conversations with her and Magda were a lot of fun, including lots of dirty jokes. Sometimes they were in Hungarian, but Magda translated.

Juliska was in the Hungarian film industry and I had the feeling she'd been around, even though she told me she was mostly involved in production and didn't do much acting. Several times I caught her looking at me intently, but when I noticed, she turned away. The looks were curious looks. She definitely never flirted with me.

On the morning of our fifth day, the last day before we flew home, Magda announced that she and Juliska had arranged a memorable evening for that night. "It will be a real souvenir of Budapest," said Magda at breakfast. "Juli won't be with us today, because she's working on it."

I figured it would be something similar to our fancy dinner with gypsy music a couple of nights before and didn't think about it again as we spent the day strolling through the city, watching the many outdoor performers and shopping for gifts to take home.

We brought everything back to the hotel room, and I asked Magda if we should change for dinner, but she said no. A few minutes later, Juliska arrived, and we walked a few blocks to a nondescript office building. Juliska ushered us inside and led us past a receptionist and down a hallway. We ended up in front of a couple of small dressing rooms, like the kind you find backstage in a theater.

There we were introduced to Ilona, who looked like she bought her clothes the same place Juliska did. "You are both going to be in costume for this," said Juliska, pushing me into one room with Ilona while she took Magda's hand and led her into the other room. The door shut, and Ilona started undressing me.

"Wait a second," I said, pushing her hands away. "What's going on?"

Her accent was a lot thicker than Juliska's and her English a lot worse. She showed me a colorful outfit hanging from a pipe rod and seemed to be saying this was some kind of imperial costume that I was to wear. I decided to go along, but I told her I'd undress myself. Even though she was adamant about me taking off my briefs, I kept them on while she put the elaborate costume over my head. I didn't know what it was, but it seemed like a long tunic made from some kind of heavy material that was white, with lots of colorful flowery and frilly things sewn on to it.

Once I had it on, she sat me down in the dressing chair and began to work on my face. I started to object, but in her halting English she explained that makeup was part of the costume. It was strange, because there was no mirror. I saw dirt marks on the bare wall indicating that there had been a large one there very recently, but someone had removed it. I closed my eyes and let her rub and dab away at me. The weirdest thing was when she stuck several cloth disks on top of my balding head with some kind of sticky putty. Finally, she scrutinized me and nodded in satisfaction.

When she was done, she led me down the hall to a large room with an oversized couch on it. Sitting on the couch was a woman dressed like a man, but not just any man. She looked like a medieval prince and had a fake mustache and beard on. But in between the colorful hanging cloth material and decorations, you could see some major breasts and a gorgeous ass, so it was definitely a woman.

When she patted the place next to her and said, "Sit down," I suddenly realized it was Magda. I thought it might be ventriloquism, until I pulled aside some cloth and hair and saw that special mark in the hidden place that Magda always told me was for my eyes only. Otherwise, I wouldn't have believed it was her. The makeup job was that good. She was like a totally different woman. I wondered what Ilona's makeup had made me look like.

When I sat down, some bright stand lights were turned on across the room and on either side of us and aimed straight at us. I couldn't see who was standing behind them, but I heard the pleasant voice of a woman who had a Hungarian accent but spoke English well. She started asking questions, first in Hungarian to Magda and then in English to me. I didn't find out until later that the questions to Magda were different than the questions she asked me:

Woman: You both look great? What do you think?

Me: I didn't even recognize Magda.

Woman: I thought that was the idea.

Me: What do you mean?

Woman: How do you feel about doing this movie with Magda?

Me: I'm just going along.

Woman: Aren't you a little bit afraid?

Me: I haven't had time to think about it. Should I be afraid?

Woman: Most men wouldn't be willing to do this.

Me: I know what you mean. I feel pretty silly sitting here in this costume.

Woman: Magda wrote the story. Did you have any idea she was capable of such a thing?

Me: No. I never knew she could write.

Woman: Are you sure you want to go through with this?

Me: No. But I'm here now, so I guess Magda's not going to let me get away with leaving before we shoot this silly costume video.

That was the end of the conversation with me. She asked Magda a few more questions in Hungarian, and I wished again that I had learned some of the language before we came. I had no idea what they were saying.

Then Magda got up and assumed her character, I guess, because she stood up straight and marched in a military stride out of the lighted area into the dark, where I could not see her. But before she did, she turned and gave me one of her characteristic mischievous looks. At least I think so, because she looked so different that I wasn't sure.

A second after she left, Ilona and a large woman came to the couch. The woman was about a foot taller than me and very muscular. She had a mean expression on her face. Just as I was thinking this was the first ugly Hungarian woman I'd seen on this trip, she squatted down in front of me, grabbed my feet and in one quick motion pulled them high in the air. My costume fell over my face, and I couldn't see anything.

While I was being held upside down by her, two hands grabbed my briefs and pulled them straight up. The woman released one foot at a time -- she was really strong -- and my briefs were pulled off. I started to shout, but then two fingers stuck something rubbery into my mouth. It was the end of a balloon. I could feel the rubber taste in my mouth.

As soon as the end was in my mouth the fingers pinching it pulled away, and I felt all the air of the balloon escape into my mouth. I was still at the start of my yell, but the yell turned into a high-pitched squeal that sounded funny. This made me even angrier. The balloon had contained helium and the more I yelled, the more ridiculous it sounded. After that, I was fed more balloon air every time my voice started getting back to normal.

Meanwhile, I felt a finger pushing something greasy into my anus. That was followed by a long tube that was pushed in further and further before stopping deep inside me. Then I felt warm liquid flowing into me.

I struggled, but the big woman was still holding my feet in the air, and the liquid kept coming. Finally it stopped, and after holding me up a few more minutes, the woman slowly lowered my feet back to the floor, and I could see again. She grabbed me around the waist and held me tight. I moved my hands and feet frantically trying to escape, but this giant woman was too strong for me.

When my twists began turning into squirms, she released me and took my hand. I stood up and tried to break free, but she held my hand tight and pointed toward a corner of the room that was in the dark and slowly started walking in that direction. I was now really squirming and had given up trying to escape in favor of trying to hold the liquid in. When I saw that we were heading toward what looked like a bathroom, I moved ahead quickly and dragged her behind me. She was still holding my hand tightly.

Even when I got to the toilet, she didn't let go. Afterward, she took a soapy sponge and cleaned me and then dragged me back to the couch. I felt humiliated. She held me while someone came up behind me and pushed something on top of my head, making it stick to me. That's when I realized those pieces of cloth stuck to my head were Velcro.

I tried to resist, but they had put some powerful stuff in that enema, and by the time everything inside me had come out, I was exhausted and weak. Then I heard some loud martial music coming from speakers somewhere in the room. After a few seconds, the music gradually faded, and I heard a man speaking in English with a Hungarian accent. It was like a formal announcement:

"The princess's wedding night, Part One. The slave of the prince prepares the bride for her first consummation."

As these words were spoken, a short, muscular man, whose body shone with oil walked up to the couch. He looked like a fire hydrant, squat and square with not an inch of fat. All he wore was what looked like a miniskirt that came to just above his knees.

Just like the heavy woman, he lifted me up into the air by my feet. I twisted and struggled, but to no avail. The short man had no trouble handling me. Then another tube was inserted deeply. Oh no, I thought, here we go again. Sure enough, I started filling up. This time it wasn't water but something thick and greasy, but it was just as uncomfortable.

When it had finished, he continued to hold me up for a few minutes, but he didn't lower my legs and lead me to the bathroom. Instead he pulled my legs apart and stepped between them.

That's when I saw that what was peeking out from under his skirt. It reminded me of a big snake, and it was rising into the air and pushing his miniskirt higher. He dropped one of my legs but kept holding the other one high. His other hand took his snake, which was now hard, and placed it between my butt cheeks and pushed. As he did, there was a squishy sound and some of the greasy stuff inside me squirted out. He pulled back a moment and then rubbed his pole in the grease and up and down my crack. I tensed my anal muscles as he pushed again, and this time nothing came out, but he didn't let up on the pressure. Nothing happened for a minute, and then I screamed as I felt him begin to slide into me. I sounded like Donald Duck frightened by an ant.

He kept pushing, and I felt a strange kind of discomfort. There was hardly any friction because of the grease, but the huge snake was stretching my opening and the muscles inside it. I was panting from trying to cope with the horrible feeling, and as he pushed the last few inches in, I almost fainted. He stopped while I breathed in and out and tried to deal with the huge invasive mass inside my body.

Then he began pulling out a little and pushing back in. I screamed again, and Donald sounded a little darker until another balloon was emptied into my mouth and the high duck voice returned. I stopped making any sound except sobs and grunts as he slowly moved in and out of me, each time pulling further out before pushing all the way in.

I turned my head away toward the lights and saw in the corner a TV monitor playing a porn film of a short man making love to the ass of a beautiful woman. It was the same man who was attacking me, and even the rhythm was the same. As I moved my arm, the woman's arm moved the same way. That's when I screamed the loudest.

The woman in the monitor was me, but she didn't look anything like me. What I thought was a white tunic I was wearing was bunched at my waist and was actually a beautiful wedding dress. The hair was a blond wig stuck to my head. Ilona's makeup and the dress that hid my body made me look like an alluring woman, except when my penis showed occasionally.

The squat man was now pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in. The view on the monitor changed to a close-up camera, and I quickly looked away, but not before I saw something so frightening and disgusting that I wanted to throw up. As the man pulled out of me, he was opening a huge hole that tried to close before his penis entered again. But the hole had been opened so wide that it could only shut half way before the snake entered again. I couldn't believe that huge opening was mine. I felt utterly degraded, and the feeling was almost worse than the agony every time he pulled out.

Now the man took one of my ankles in each hand and pulled my legs over his shoulders. Then he pushed forward, lifting my rear off the couch as he continued to push in and out and pick up his pace.

He began bumping my ass with this thighs every time he pushed in. The bumps got faster and harder, and the springs in the couch responded by bumping me back up. Between the bumps from the man and the couch, I was like a bouncing ball. Every time I slammed up into the man, I couldn't help shrieking in my funny voice, and then I shrieked again a second later, because as we flew apart and he ripped out of me.

Finally he slowed down and then pulled out. He lifted me up, turned me over and lifted my legs up so that I was on all fours, I was sweating and had no energy left in me. I felt like a wet mop that couldn't move. He got behind me, and this time he quickly touched bottom, and once again I had to endure his awful thrusts.

He pulled out and turned me around on the huge couch, as big as a small bed, and stood over me. I looked at the monitor and saw him squatting down over my ass and pushing his snake back into me. Now he was going straight up and down. As he gradually increased his speed, the bumping began again. This time, my entire body, which was on all fours, was bouncing up and down crazily as if I were on a trampoline. I was in constant agony by this time and hardly knew what was happening to me.

As I thought to myself that soon this must end because he had to be close to an orgasm, he grabbed me around the waist, fell back and pulled me on top of him so I was impaled between his legs but facing away from him. Then he swung himself around so that he was sitting on the couch facing the lights.

He tried for a moment to bounce on the couch to continue pushing in and out, but my dead weight on top of him kept him from moving much. Then he grabbed me behind the knees and lifted me and rolled me back so that my feet were on his thighs. After they were planted there, he used his hands to lift my rear up until I was slightly suspended in the air above him, with some of his snake outside me. He began to thrust from below and soon he was really going in and out lightning fast. I was out of control and couldn't stop screaming. He stopped for another balloon to be fed to me and then resumed and said his first words to me, softly in a thick Hungarian accent: "Pull your cheeks apart."

I didn't respond, either because I didn't want to or most likely because I was so out if it, I didn't understand what he wanted. Then he seemed to turn on some extra energy because he was going even faster in and out of me. I was frantic from the awful feeling inside me. He slowed down again and repeated, "Pull your cheeks apart."

This time I heard him clearly. My hands were hanging by my sides. I took my right hand and put it on my right butt cheek and my left hand on my left and pulled the cheeks apart as much as I could while he continued to pound me.

Suddenly, he grabbed me behind the knees and pulled me quickly back. I heard a loud gurgling, followed by a popping sound as he wrenched his penis out of me. Some of the lubricant came out and dripped down onto the couch. In another second, he quickly lowered me back onto him and was thrusting like crazy once more. Then he again pulled me back and I heard that loud pop again as ripped free of me.

He repeated the thrusting and ripping until I felt like I was going to lose my mind, especially after I foolishly glanced at the monitor and saw the huge, dark hole he was opening each time he did this routine.

The unfamiliar march music started playing again, and he stopped. I sat on his lap with him completely inside of me and tried to catch my breath. As the music got softer again, the formal voice of the announcer said,