"You get the same offer as Mrs. Browning. Two thousand dollars for every pint you can hold."
"In addition to my normal commission?"
"Yes, my mercurial mistress. Over and above your normal three percent."
I nodded my consent.
"Very good. Now, while I prepare the equipment, I suggest you two place your clothing in a safe place. This might get messy."
"We're not doing this in the bathroom?" Victoria asked.
"Certainly not," Mark answered. "That would be way too cramped and uncomfortable. Your living room will be perfect."
Despite what some may surmise, this newest game wasn't a drinking contest. When Mark said he'd pay Victoria two thousand dollars for every pint, he was not talking about how many pints of beer she could pour down her throat. That would have been way too easy.
The name of this game was Enema. Victoria Browning and I would get two thou for every pint of liquid Mark squirted up our ass. There was no intermission. No letting some out to make room for more. To get four thousand, we'd have to hold two pints. If we found room for four pints of excess liquid someplace in our anatomy, we'd get an eight thousand dollar pay day.
But that wasn't why I consented to what had to be the dirtiest, most disgusting game Mark had yet to dream up. I wasn't in it for the money. My sales commission alone would pay the bills for one or two months. The reason I was willing to let Mark shove a rubber tube six inches up my rectum is that I knew there was more to his shitty scheme than met the eye. This was act one of at least a two-act play. And to get to the finale, one had to endure the entire performance.
Mark prepared a solution of tepid water and green food coloring while Victoria and I got completely naked. Mark then helped us into our "competition positions". Using a wooden coffee table for support, we placed our knees on the floor and our forearms on the skinny edges of the table. She on one end, I on the other... facing each other.
Getting a good look at Victoria's naked body, I wouldn't call her fat. However, she was far from slim... except in her belly. For a woman with big boobs and ass, she had a remarkably flat tummy. Almost as flat as mine. And while our breasts were of similar bulk, hers were long, skinny and tended to sag towards her belly button while mine still had sufficient muscle tone to ensure my nipples stuck out and not down. However, in our current "doggy style" posture, all four of our titties were stretching towards the lush, white shag carpet which covered the Browning's living room.
"Mrs. Browning," Mark said as he started pulling props out of his mysterious black bag. "Since we are guests in your house, you get the best equipment."
He pulled out a strange combination of rubber tubing and balls, plus what looked like the small air pump a nurse uses when checking blood pressure. He laid the implements of negotiation on the table, bent over, and turned Victoria's head towards his so he could kiss her. Like an ignorant sheep being led to slaughter, she kissed him back... for longer than I thought appropriate. Not that I cared how long she kissed my client. I just wanted to get the show on the road so we could close the deal and move on to the next house.
Next came the oil. First on his hands, warming it up. Then on her shoulders, her back, around to her slim, tight stomach, and finally forward to her tits. Her dangling tits. I couldn't see them from my position, the table was blocking my view, but I would bet pennies to Krugerrands that her nipples were harder than diamonds before he transitioned down to the lower parts of her anatomy... because that was his routine... what he did with all the other women he'd seduced in the last week.
And what I prayed he would do with me before the morning was over.
He gave an equal amount of attention to her inner thighs, ass cheeks and vagina before he first touched the target of his attention. Her anus. Her rectum. Her asshole. Mark was planning to break one of nature's primary laws and shove something into an orifice that was designed for outgoing traffic only.
He started with the well lubricated middle finger of his left hand. Next came the business end of the aforementioned device. Six inches of rubber tubing went in first. He paused to give Victoria a chance to accustom herself to the invading probe and also to liberally lube the next intruder... the two-inch-wide deflated ball that was attached to the tube.
It took several attempts to get the ball past her natural defenses, but greed and desperation are powerful allies. Victoria finally found sufficient control to relax her muscles and allow the ball entry. Two addition lengths of tubing extended from the opposite end of the now hidden ball. The smaller one allowed for airflow into the ball, letting it expand to a size much larger than her sphincter could pass. Once inflated, a petcock on the hose prevented the air from escaping, reassuring the ball, and everything behind it, would not leave Victoria's body. The slightly larger tube would carry water into her intestines... one pint at a time.
After Victoria was readied, Mark turned his attention to me. My treatment was similar to hers, except my kiss included a bit of tongue, as did my pussy. And instead of a rubber ball shoved up my ass, all I got was a thin tube... at least six inches worth. But I didn't complain. Not after witnessing what my table mate endured.
Properly positioned, Mark gave me another kiss... and Victoria's boobs another squeeze... before he got down to the business at hand. Using a large syringe with graduated markings, he sucked in a pint of warm water from his supply in the kitchen, plugged the syringe into the larger tube, and squirted it up Victoria's ass. He closed the petcock on Victoria's water tube and then went back to the kitchen to get an equal amount of water for me.
Except he didn't. We were positioned so I was facing the kitchen, where Mark kept his supply of warm, colored water. I could see him the entire time, but Victoria's back was to the kitchen. She only got a glimpse of him when he came around the table to administer my share of the water. The syringe was only half full when he used it on me. What she couldn't see, was that it was completely full when administered to her. Mark was giving her twice what he was giving me, letting her think we were getting equal treatment.
Quite the romantic bastard... in his cheating, sadistic way.
Victoria was only two pints into the ordeal when she first showed signs of discomfort. Her face flushed and a slight grimace appeared on her lips.
"Are you experiencing any pain?" Mark asked while stroking her ass cheeks. "Just say the word and I'll pull the plug... so to speak."
"I'm fine," she said. "Just keep it coming. I'm good for another gallon or two."
He administered my half portion, gave my nipples a minute of attention, and then returned to the kitchen to refill his weapon.
Victoria gasped as another full pint went up her tube, through the restricting ball and into her body. Her flush turned into a sweat. Her grimace, a definite frown.
"That's six thousand dollars' worth." Mark traced a finger down her backbone and then ran his hand under her slightly enlarged belly. "Not a bad morning's work."
"And I'm just getting started. Why don't you quit talking and start filling me up?"
"As you wish."
I got another half pint and a quick back rub before he plowed another pint into Victoria. She again refused his offer to quit. I didn't know how far she expected to go but, carrying only half the load she had, I was starting to get uncomfortable. And, unlike her inflatable rubber butt dam, the only thing keeping the water from shooting out my ass like a geyser was my personal muscle control.
I let Mark shoot another two grand of liquid up my rectum before I called it quits. He pulled the tube out of my ass and I made a bee line for the nearest bathroom, walking as quickly as practical while squeezing my sphincter muscles shut as tightly as I could. I did not want to be the one who defiled Victoria's white shag carpet with green, possibly brown, water.
They were still at it when I returned. Victoria remained on her knees... head cradled in her arms on the coffee table. She looked like she was pregnant with twin hippopotamuses. Her once flat belly swelled to the sides and downward. Her skin was stretched so tight it appeared translucent; I could almost see the organs it was designed to cover. Coated in sweat, she shivered in pain.
"What the hell are you doing to her," I screamed.
"Nothing she hasn't asked for," Mark calmly replied while readying his gun for yet another salvo of gut filling liquid. "She'll let me know when she's had enough, won't you dear?"
"Don't stop," she grunted. "More. I can take a least one more."
I knelt down beside the table and stroked her hair. "How do you feel," I asked in a whisper.