The Double Anal Weekend Ch. 03

I have you stand facing the open part of the park, the edge of the densest part of the forest directly behind us. The first thing you have to do is remove your panties and give them to me. They reluctantly fall to your feet as you balk at the idea of having sex with so many people around; no, it can't be that. We'd be arrested for sure! Next I ask for the plug which makes your heart jump again. "Is he really going to do this right here?" you think. After cleaning it, you hand it back to me anxiously. You try to steal a glimpse into my backpack, but I notice and smack your ass hard.

"Head straight forward!" I order in a voice loud enough that your eyes dart around, desperately trying to tell if anyone is watching what we're doing. The next thing you feel are my hands at the neck of your dress.

"Am I going to be restrained?" you think to yourself. "Maybe led through the park on a leash? How humiliating!"

Instead, you feel something small and unfamiliar tickle your skin as it snakes down your back. Whatever it is emerges from under the bottom of the dress followed by the pressure of something being inserted. You take a deep breath to quell the butterflies in your stomach as you instinctively open to accept what definitely isn't a dildo and probably isn't a toy. It's big and fits very snugly, and feels familiar somehow. Suddenly, it all clicks but you're afraid to say anything out loud. It can't be. You can't even say it to yourself in your head. "Oh my God, he's going to make me. . ."

"The last item you'll need is your new sun hat," I say handing over your next gift - a floppy straw sun hat.

It's impossible to manage a smile, so you only reply with "how *exactly* does this fit into what's up my ass right now?" All you hear is a chuckle as I take out the last item, which looks like a transparent water balloon the size of a small cantaloupe. I hold it out for you to see before starting to connect it.

"So, have you figured it out yet?" I ask, not really wanting a reply. "When I was pouring over the logistics for this, two things were obvious. A normal bag strapped to your back might not be high enough to really work and plus, there's nowhere near enough challenge to that." You watch me place the transparent water-balloon-thingy into the hat and attach a small clip in the top of the hat through a cut-out normally used to hang a bag like this from wherever one would need to hang it. I then put the hat on you and cinch up with the chin strap. Wiggling your head back and forth proves it's nowhere near perfectly stable, but you realize this might actually work. You're not sure if that's a good thing or not.

"You are NOT serious right now," you say, head still pointed forward as you gaze out towards the open part of the park and make a mental note of how many people are out there enjoying the weather. The snapping sound of the tube fitting onto the nipple on the bag says otherwise. With your dress down, the only part of the rig that could possibly be seen by someone is a length of tube maybe 6 inches long behind your ear. I stand back and admire my work, taking a couple pictures. Finally, I lean in and grasp a valve on the tubing, opening it.

"I sure am serious. Welcome to your next challenge: the walking enema. You'd better start moving."

Involuntarily, you freeze for a moment as the slow whoosh of water begins entering you but you quickly find the courage to start walking, unsure what the punishment might be if you were to fail. "You can ask for it to slow down if you need," I offer. "But you need to know that no matter what, we're walking all the way over that grove of trees on the other side." One foot in front of the other, your gait starts to become more regular but even so, it seems impossible. It has to be a quarter mile to the far side of the park and the path between here and there provides absolutely no cover. An occasional tree dots the otherwise open area but you feel so . . . exposed! In more ways than one. Holding your hand, I can feel how tense your whole body is. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going through your mind. Tell me how afraid you are. Tell me how it makes you feel to be challenged like this."

"I'm not going to make it. I'm sure of it. I'm going to have to release in front of all these people and . . . oh god!" you say with a shaky voice, picturing yourself having to do just that in your head.

"Just keep walking and talk to me. Stay in the moment. Don't worry about how far is left to go."

"It's not too fast yet, and that's good. There's a little cramping, but it's nothing I can't handle. God, I get a knot in my stomach every time a stranger walks by us or I see someone sitting there looking at me," you say as we pass a couple who look right at us and smile. "Do they know? Do you think they can tell? My face must be beet red!"

"Yeah, it totally is," I chuckle. You've picked your pace up by now and we're nearly a third of the way to the other side. I reach over and twist the valve open a little further. "You're doing fantastic. I knew you would!"

"I can kind of tell how much I've taken by the weight of the bag on my head. It's getting lighter but it still feels like there's so much left! What do I do if I can't make it Daddy??"

I put my arm around you as we continue along. "If you can't take any more, tell me you're at your limit and trust me." As we near the halfway point you remark that you think you can see your belly getting bigger.

"Feel it. Can you tell?" you ask. I slip a hand onto your stomach and assure you that I can, even though I'm lying a little. Your whole body is so tense it's tough to tell if the tightness of your abdomen is from your nerves or from your ever-increasing fullness. While my hand's still there, you flinch and stop.

"Uuunnnggghhh!" you moan, trying like mad to keep it under your breath. I move my hand around to your back and snap the valve closed.

"You're ok. Deep breaths, just let your body adjust. Pretend we're just standing here hugging," I say as I wrap both arms around you and kiss your cheek, feeling your weight hanging off me as you struggle to hold it all in and get comfortable. After a half a minute you step back.

"Lets try to keep going. I - - I think I can do it." I ask if you're sure and you bite your bottom lip, nodding frantically. "It's not getting easier. Let's just go for it."

As we resume walking towards the other end of the park I open the valve again and almost immediately, I see panic in your eyes. Your jaw clamps shut as your nostrils flare with desperate labored breaths. The tone in your voice is urgent and despondent. "I can't take it! I have to push, Daddy!" you whisper. "I'm sorry!"

I immediately flip the valve closed and grab your hand. With no trees anywhere close, I pull you a few paces away from the path and sit on the grass about ten yards from the nearest couple with my legs crossed, just enough room between them for your ass to nestle into in the middle of my lap. As I pull you down on top of me, your dress flops over my legs and knees providing just a tiny bit of cover. You groan into my ear as you feel my fingers pulling on the plug-shaped nozzle I had to search so hard to find, followed by unbelievably welcome relief as it pops out allowing you to express. I lean forward to kiss you as you release between my legs and for a few moments you kiss me back forgetting how exposed we both are, pretending to just be two vanilla lovers making out in the park. Once you're near to empty, you sit up straight and pull back a little, sighing in obvious relief. I push the nozzle back into your ass and tell you to stand up carefully. After you do I stand as well and unclip the hose near your neck, replacing the two-thirds empty bag with a completely full one from my backpack. I hand the hat back to you with a smirk and before you know it, it's back on and the valve is open again.

We're more than halfway there and you start out with a brisk walk this time, realizing you need to use what precious nearly-empty time you have wisely. "OK. I'm gonna make it this time. It almost feels like I can open up and take more because of how my body moves when I walk, but then it gets to a point where I just can't take any more. Not like when we're in the shower and I can bend down and shift all around to make room," you explain.

"Fascinating how your depths work," I comment. "I wasn't even sure this would work out at all. Pretty impressive so far, I must say!"

You're disinterested in my flattery, and your gaze narrows, never breaking your stride. "By the way, I never, ever, EVER would have agreed to this if you'd told me what you were going to make me do!"

"Yeah, I'd sort of guessed that. But imagine the story you're going to have for David tonight!"

"If I wasn't looking forward to tonight so badly I'd tie you up in the corner and make you watch him have his way with me all night long!" you say sternly with just a tiny bit of playfulness in your tone that lets me know you're only half-serious. We're tantalizingly close to the forested area when you start to slow your walk, imminently full and ready to release. "Goddamn it," you curse under your breath.

"You've got this," I encourage. With one more deep breath you march the last 20 yards to the edge of the woods, stumbling a few times but determined to make it. The bag feels nearly empty as I unclip it and hold your hat for you. Scanning your options half in a panic, you see a tiny trail people have used to cut into a neighborhood that borders the park.

"Fuck it. They'll just think I'm pissing." Hurrying in a half walk, half jog down the path you find a tree far enough off the path and squat, holding it and pushing your ass out. I whip out my phone to capture the moment, just barely able to hear your sighs of relief. A couple of people walk by as I wait, obviously able to see you from the path but you couldn't care less. A minute or so later you stand, stretch, walk a few feet further down the trail, then crouch to release again. When you finally return, you hand the hose to me and I hand your hat back to you.

You put the hat back on but not before taking the nearly empty bag out and smacking me square in the center of my chest with it. "I believe this is yours," you say in a cross tone. The narrow-eyed gaze from before comes across your face again as you lean in close and sternly poke a finger right where the bag hit me. "That was absolutely *diabolical*. Where the hell did you come up with that one?"

Trying to look as innocent as possible, I find myself struggling for the right words for the first time all weekend. "Well, uh, I'm not sure really. One of those nights when we were talking about things we'd done and things we'd like to try it just kinda came to me. The words "public enema" popped into my head and I knew I had to see if you could do it. Congrats, by the way!"

"I should be more afraid of the things that pop into your head." As we start walking again, you add "but I did it. Fuck me, I actually did it! I must be a pretty damn good girl."

I nod as we continue down the path, cutting over to your street and returning soon after to your apartment. A long shower completes the experience, as it does with every round of enema play between the two of us. By the time we've dried off it's already past five.

We lounge around for the next hour or so half dressed and talking through the craziness that's unfolded so far this weekend. At some point, I ask why you took your mask off in front of the crowd at the sex club last night. It was a move I truly didn't expect.

"I guess I just didn't care anymore. Everyone was so supportive and I was crazy turned on from being used so hard that I just didn't care. I kinda wanted them all to know what I looked like and who I am. I was . . . I dunno . . . proud."

"You didn't mind that strangers who might end up being co-workers or seeing you in public someday know how much of a depraved little girl you are?"

"Well, I guess I'll have to think about it after the weekend's over. Right now, for the first time ever, I don't think I'd even care if my boss found out. It's like I've been fighting and hiding part of my sexuality for a long time and being up in front of a crowd just pushed me over the edge. Something just snapped last night and I did NOT care!" You pause, leaning in as I sit on the couch and resting your forehead against mine. "Look at what a whore you've turned me into, Daddy."

I tilt my mouth up and kiss you. "You mean what a perfect woman I've turned you into. I think it's time for you to get ready for the main event. Wear something elegant; we have a reservation at 7:30." I busy myself by picking out one of the dress shirts I keep in your closet and put a suit jacket over top of it. You pick an elegant, shimmery blue evening dress I've only seen you wear that one time when we went to a classy steak house when we spent the weekend in Chicago. It accentuates your curves beautifully. Your hair is down tonight, cascading in a rusty blond waterfall over your exposed shoulders. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, I sneak up behind you with the smallest present yet. "I think this is a good time for you to open this one."

Your interest is piqued immediately as I hand you a small jewelry box with a tiny red bow on it. Tearing the bow off, you flip the box open and stare at a small piece of jewelry. I help you free the item from the display that holds it in place and hand you your new necklace. It's backwards as I hand it to you so it takes you a moment to right it and realize what it is. Sparkling in the light is a pendant on the end of a silver necklace that reads "A O", spelled out in red jewels. "Where on Earth did you find this?" you ask in shock.

"I didn't find it. I had it made. Those are real," I say, pointing at the rubies that spell out the two letters. Motionless for what seems like forever, you sit turning it over and over, running the silver-colored strands through your fingers. "Real?" you whisper as I help you put it on. As you look at yourself in the mirror, I hear you inhale sharply and rapidly a few times. A tear falls down your cheek as both hands dart up, held as if praying along both sides of your nose, hiding your mouth. "Real?" you say again. "Really real?"

I spin you towards me and hand you a tissue. "Yep. Really, really real! White gold, with rubies inlayed on the letters. I was going to wait until the end of the weekend but you've been so amazing the last couple days and, well, you *look* so amazing tonight that it had to be now. Ya know, I've never had jewelry made for someone but you . . . you deserve it."

Your arms wrap tightly around my neck as you passionately kiss me, not caring about your lipstick. "Thank you," you say softly, stepping back to fix your makeup. It takes you a few minutes to compose yourself but soon enough we're on our way. As we walk through the lobby and out the door to our waiting car, you ask "So what do I tell people who ask what the letters stand for?"

"I guess that's your choice. But by all means let me know what you say when it comes up!" I get your door for you and in a flash, we're off. Mere minutes later, our ride ends at the same cosmopolitan street we visited earlier in the day. We walk a block or so until we come to a restaurant with a jet-black facade highlighted only with gold lettering that reads NOBU. I catch the door as a cute college couple comes out and usher you in. Before the host can greet us, David waves us over to a small table near the back.

"Great to see you!" he says to us both, shaking my hand and giving you a long hug. As you sit down and situate yourself he notices your new gift. "Hey, that's a really nice necklace!"

You feel a bit tongue-tied, and can only manage to spit out "Um, yeah. It's real!" He leans in to inspect it, purposefully brushing his hand against your chest as he does so. He's one of the few people for whom there's no need to explain what it means.

The waiter appears behind us and hands out menus, asking if we'd like something to drink. David and I order a bottle of sake, and you find a non-alcoholic mixed drink that sounds good. That's another thing we talked about during our long conversation about how to prep for a weekend like this: careful with the alcohol if you're fasting. After pouring glasses for the two of us, I raise mine in a toast. "To a wonderful woman, and to the very, very special friendship between the three of us!"

No sooner have we taken our first sips than the waiter materializes again asking if we're ready to order. Both David and I order sushi, after which he asks you what you're having. "Nothing right now. They're on my menu tonight," you say pointing at the two of us with a devilish giggle.

The waiter hesitates for a second, asking again "Nothing to eat for you?"

"Nope. I'm not eating anything until I've had my fill of these two," you say in no uncertain terms. The waiter pauses for a moment as if he isn't sure if he heard what he heard, then repeats our orders and leaves.

David sits motionless across the table staring at you, unsure of what he's heard. "That was, uh, very bold. You sure weren't that open with our relationship the last time the three of us were out!" We recount in explicit detail what happened last night, relishing his shock as we reveal everything that happened.

"Maybe it took what we did last night for me to finally be comfortable being so . . . open. Just wait until I send you the video!" Hips slide seductively around the corner of the table and over to his side as you give him a deep, passionate kiss which only ends when you move back around the other side of the table and do the same to me, never even looking to see if anyone notices. You sit back in your chair and flash him a coy, innocent look right as our food arrives.

As David and I sample each other's food, you take nibbles off of a few rolls. Just enough to take the bite off of your hunger. At this point you're not sure which you're more excited for - the main event in the bedroom that creeps ever closer, or the feast you'll have afterwards when you finally break your fast. We turn to the small talk you hear on every date, filling each other in on the somewhat interesting points of our otherwise vanilla day-to-day lives. Eventually, the topic of your date with David from a couple weeks ago comes up.

When I'm away, you're always allowed to continue exploring your sexuality and David is the perfect person for that. David relishes recounting the night - five separate sessions, each in a different room of your apartment starting on the kitchen countertop. More anal than he'd ever done with a girl in one night. So many orgasms. "Yeah, you sure fucked my ass hard that night," you say right as the waiter pops up behind us.

The mood between the three of us has moved past pleasantries and we all have the same thing on our mind. Neither of us can't seem to stop touching you under the table, and you giggle like a schoolgirl every time we do. The waiter gets the hint and hands us the check, which David happily pays for. You lead the way out, the two of us trailing behind you like obedient slaves. It's a couple blocks to his car and I reach to hold your hand as we walk. As you grab it, you pause and without a word reach for David's hand too. We start off again, you in the middle with your two lovers on either side. The last time we were out as a threesome I had asked if you were bold enough to do this and you said you never could, that it was just too much. David and I catch each others eye, amazed at how comfortable you've become.

I get the door and sit in the back seat with you as David quickly chauffeurs us the handful of blocks back to your apartment. He has to park a block or so away which lets the three of us walk hand in hand again up to your apartment door. We follow you in watching your exaggerated steps, hips swinging back and forth which only highlights how fantastic you look in your dress. We both know you have a plug in, which only makes your strut even sexier.