Tit for Tat

"I guess that is the point of this game: to get us out of our stale comfort zones, but really...her poop shoot?" pondered James. Considering his choices, James realized there really weren't many. If he didn't lick, he'd have to go without his blow jobs and spend inordinate amounts of time rubbing out her knots instead of rubbing his own down her throat.

There it was, an inch or two above his face, slowly bobbing back and forth as Andrea steadied herself over his face. It did appear nicely shaved and clean—thank God for Andrea's unwavering sense of hygiene and personal upkeep. "Will it taste like poop—what does poop even taste like?" mulled James. Andrea was enjoying his hesitation; she would've given a fair amount to know what was going on inside his head: "What he was thinking? Would he give up or go through with it?"

Unsure of how James was going to react to this one, Andrea waited patiently, and was surprised by the sudden tentative wet dart of his tongue on her derrière. She'd always secretly enjoyed it when he'd sneak a finger around her asshole during sex, but this was a truly different, seldom sensed, sensation. And she had to admit, she liked it.

Relieved to find it wasn't at all as unpleasant as he feared, James began giving her the full oral experience he'd perfected over the years of going down on her. His tongue circled the outside before cautiously infiltrating inside.

Just as James had become aroused by Andrea's watersports, so too did Andrea with this ruckus on her tuckus. As he continued his exploration, Andrea continued soaking her pussy wetly; her legs even gave way as his erect tongue penetrated her hole. This naughty invasion sent her over the edge causing a torrent of her juices to stream forth soaking his neck and chest. A climax undeniably ended her turn, so James began to consider his move.

It was his turn, and after her most recent indiscretion, Andrea feared what he might have in-store for her. But, before he could pick something, the doorbell rang. Panic struck both of their faces as they suddenly became aware someone might realize just how deprived they'd become. "I'm not answering it like this," whispered James indicating his nudity, "but you are," he quickly concluded as a smile spread across his face realizing the ramifications of his move from the concealed corner of the room.

All Andrea had to wear were her still wet knickers, unless she answered the door bottomless, but that was out of the question, and there was no hiding the fact she'd recently had an "accident." Her face became pale as she realized she didn't have much of a choice. "I can't," she whispered, signifying the condition of her pants as explanation.

"So you give up?" asked James. Andrea knew he'd love nothing more than to milk his reward multiple times into her mouth, so she couldn't afford to lose, plus she already knew how she intended to end this game, but only after chalking up enough points to thoroughly enjoy her victory.

Hoping to dear God it wasn't anyone they knew, Andrea reluctantly walked towards the door. "Maybe it'll be quick and they won't notice," Andrea vainly wished. On their door step, of all people, were two you guys in white shirts, black ties, and slacks—Mormons—clearly on their mission. It didn't take long after their initial cheery greeting for their eyes to drift down and notice Andrea's mortifying state. They were taken-a-back by her outfit, clearly sapping the steam from their presentation. Perplexed, obviously frantically grasping for any benign explanation for her current state, the two boys just stared with their mouths agape. Simultaneously Andrea's mind raced to find some way she could explain away her condition.

Neither party reached an adequate response, so Andrea, the brightest shade of red, finally blurted "We're happy with our current religion, please don't come back," while she slammed the door defeated. She truly hoped they heeded her request and never returned because she had no idea how she could possibly face them again. From the corner of the living room, perfectly out of view from the doorway; James could hardly stifle his laughs.

It was her turn next; and as she walked bow legged upstairs trying her best to keep the clingy wet material off her skin, she turned to inform James she'd "be right back," before sadistically smiling. When Andrea finally returned, she was carrying her vibrator: Busy Buzzer, the one they bought together the year before their wedding when jobs placed them miles apart. Back then, James was still teaching high school English, just like her, but he was stuck in a dead end town in the middle of nowhere while she taught on the Eastside of the state. Being almost two hours apart meant they only saw each other on the weekends and Andrea's cooter got understandably lonely during the week.

Perplexed, James wondered how the little pink toy could possibly tie into his task. "Oh, do you want me to use that on you?" he asked hopeful it would be that easy. James never felt jealousy towards the placating piece of plastic since Andrea preferred the (his) real thing, but the vindictive look in her eyes gave James pause and for once he felt threatened by its potential prostate poking power.

"Nope, but I do want you to bend over and grab your ankles," Andrea directed James hardly able to stifle her vengeful smile.

"Why...?" James asked with fear beginning to build inside him.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

With great apprehension and a pretty solid idea of what was coming next, James did as he was told fearing the consequence more than the impending event. Finally resigned to his fate he feebly requested "At least be gentle..."

"Oh, don't worry; you're going to be the one inserting it. I just hope you'll be as gentle as you were my first time."

With that statement James' heart sank remembering back to the first time Andrea finally acquiesced to his persistent requests to "just try it (anal)" explaining that he'd "seen lots of girls online apparently enjoying it." They tried it in the shower since the water was bound to "...act as a lubricant." Even though that theory didn't pan out, James continued, undeterred, despite her whimpers. In fact, he strangely enjoyed the power and control he had. He didn't stop until he got what he wanted and left her to push out a cum filled dump in the shower. He always worried that choice would bite him in the butt one day; he just didn't realize it would be literally.

She was at least kind enough to have brought the petroleum jelly with her; as she smeared it across his virgin hole, she mentioned how, "...adequate lube is very important when you try to stick something up an ass for the first time." He felt like he was about to receive some embarrassing medical procedure. Since she now had the power and control, she steadily and relentlessly began to insert her middle finger. "Here, let me help you loosen it up," she insincerely offered. Andrea certainly wasn't going to back down, so it was up to him. James did his best to relax to make the process easier, but his anal aversion was getting in the way.

Desiring a fair amount of revenge for being forced to piss herself and then let others see, Andrea redoubled her effort, and secretly placed her pointer finger beside her middle and with a sudden shove, managed to get both fingers to poke through his bum. Surprised by the size and force, James gasped sharply causing his body to tense, only exacerbating the situation. Undeterred, Andrea cruelly continued her anal onslaught until, slowly "butt" surely she stuffed both digits as far inside as they'd go. She finger fucked him for a while, "...just to insure the lube is spread around evenly."

Seeing his cock begin to involuntarily fill with blood, Andrea knew it was the best time to humiliate him further by reminding him of his end of the bargain. "I think it is time you stick this (holding up her Buzzing Buddy) where it belongs," directed Andrea as she handed him the pink pipe.

It would be one thing if she forced her dildo up there—he'd be the victim in an anal violation, but actually having to be the perpetrator of your own deflowering was a totally different implication. As he applied pressure with her pink vibrator to his rear the initial force just pushed him forward since his puckered anus wouldn't open; however; when he couldn't move forward any more, he knew the gig was up and something would have to budge. Practicing his yoga breathing, James put his mind elsewhere and relaxed enough to let it pierce his ring. Once he slowly brought it inside a ways, Andrea added insult to injury by turning it on.

She "helped" by keeping it stuffed as it buzzed away in his butt, since James' natural reaction was to try to push it out. James mortifyingly felt his penis begin to uncontrollably harden. His ass hurt, no doubt, but there was something about the fullness that did feel good. He also liked being dominated; he liked Andrea being powerful and bossy. They both knew he wasn't secretly gay, but something about the stimulation on top of the day's other erotic events had caused him to feel very horny.

Mockingly, Andrea suggested "Maybe we should add this to our usual repertoire," as she reached around and gave him a few toying tugs. "Do you like things shoved in your innocent ass without your direct permission or consent?" she rhetorically asked, almost as though she was referencing something. "Now you'll find out why I am only lukewarm when you suggest this," said Andrea giving it a heartless push with her palm to its limit. "Ahh," was all James could muster as it slid further than he ever expected, not missing a beat in its quivering.

After feeling she'd dominated him enough and fearing much more would cause him to lose his load all over the couch cushions, Andrea slowly withdrew her fake plastic dick, still running to ensure it would tickle his freshly violated hole as it escaped. It took a moment for his ass to return to its normal size. Andrea watched in amusement as she finally felt they were even for his previous lack of consideration and control. She smiled to herself realizing she'd just sodomized her husband and he obviously unwillingly, or maybe secretly willing, enjoyed it. She now understood the satisfaction of having someone at your mercy.

He awkwardly straightened himself as though a stick was still up his ass and gingerly walked naked to the corner of the living room with the greasy residue of lube still on his cheeks. He knew he was going to have to wrap this game up soon; they were both beginning to go pretty kinky and he feared just how far this game might go if he didn't think of something too extreme for Andrea soon. They'd each completed three events totaling six rewards, which would be a nice even number of blow jobs he could spread out over the next month—it was time for his grand finale.

As he whiped the jelly off his ass with a paper towel from the kitchen, James informed Andrea that, "You have to take an enema."

"What?!" she exclaimed certainly not seeing that one coming. Andrea had never had an enema before, never for constipation, a medical procedure...or fun...? She would never have guessed this perverted, disgusting fetish had even crossed her seemingly normal-ish husband's mind before.

However, from her shock, James realized he'd won. "There is no way she'll agree to this one," he pleasantly thought to himself before asking her how she could "...refuse such an outwardly easy and medically beneficial move after viciously ramming your dildo up my ass?"

"If you remember, you were the one who did the ramming, and looking at your cock," pointing at his resilient rise, "it couldn't have been too bad," countered Andrea.

"Do we even have the supplies?" asked Andrea hoping they wouldn't so she'd be free and clear and he'd be the loser.

"Yeah, it came with the water bag we use for sore muscles," gleefully informed James knowing they did before he even suggested it.

However, James' jaw hit the floor when Andrea said, "Fine, I'll do it," with a confident smile, "I could use a good flush."

Following the sway of his wife's wet patch, they walked upstairs. "She was supposed to give up and blow me, not go for it—now what..?" fretted James. "Um, get on all fours in our bath tub...? I'll get it ready..." directed James, making it up as he went along. After reading the directions, James concluded it seemed pretty straight forward as he looked down at his doggie styled obviously prepared wife with her wet undies and knickers bunched around her ankles.

He filled the bag with warm water then hung it on the shower rod and lubed the nozzle before gingerly inserting it in her rear. Andrea wasn't prepared for the sudden flow to fill her ass so quickly once James turned the release valve. It wasn't painful, just weird. She'd always expelled things from her ass, seldom had it filled. Emptying the entire bag inside caused her to be filled to the brim. Neither really knew how to "do" an enema. Those were always the videos and stories they never clicked on. However, once James finally removed the syringe, Andrea was already having a hard time holding it all in.

"What am I supposed to do now?" frantically asked Andrea. Vigorously reading the directions, James concluded she needed to "hold it for as long as you can and once you can't any more...go poop...?" Glaring at him for getting her in this situation when he didn't even know how to perform one properly, Andrea waited and stewed.

"I feel sloshy, like I just drank too much water, but instead of filling my tummy it's all in my butt, trying to leak out, is this normal?" asked Andrea. Suddenly aware she couldn't hold it a second longer, Andrea scrambled out of the tub and sat on the toilet, in front of James, blushing and wishing he'd turn away, right before it all burst loose.

There she was, with her pants around her ankles, squirming on the toilet with varying expressions of panic, desperation, and relief. However, beneath the disheveled bangs covering part of her face spread an expression of fierce resolve.

Mortified to lose control of her two most private and intimate bodily functions in front of her husband, both in the same day, Andrea begged James to "Please quit watching," right before another bowel movement incapacitated her.

Smugly, James told her to, "Make me." Shuffling with her pants at her ankles, Andrea made it about halfway to the doorway before she grabbed her stomach and was forced to backtrack. Helplessly wide eyed in terror of the unknown and then moaning in relief, Andrea was at a loss.

About the time the disgusting expulsion noises from her bowels came to an end, it dawned on James he probably just made a big mistake. Unbelievably, Andrea found it felt good. Maybe not sexy good, but the type of good you get from finally getting to pee after holding it for far too long. In fact, she'd never felt so light and clean before, which was almost enough.

"She wasn't supposed to do this—what was she going to think up for me?" became James' internal concern. Wiping herself summarily clean, Andrea exclaimed "I'll be right back," as the toilet flushed away and she trotted nakedly downstairs.

The sound of something being repeated slapped into her palm increased as she progressed ever closer to the bathroom. "Now, don't get all butt hurt about this," suggested James while looking at the supplies still hanging off their shower rod and suddenly realizing how poor his wording was. "You know the point of the game is to get the other to give up...? I was just being competitive...like you..." Rounding the corned, Andrea informed him, "Oh, I'll show you butt hurt," as she presented a fresh zucchini in her hands.

"You gonna make me eat that?" anxiously asked James, "You know I hate zucchini."

"Yeah, but does your butt feel the same way?" questioned Andrea, "Because mine doesn't feel the same anymore."

James cringed as Andrea accurately recounted, in excruciating detail, everything he'd done to her while she was under his hypnotic possession from the internet direct kit he received a couple of weeks ago. "I thought you were hypnotized; how did you find out?" became a silly question once she informed him of exactly what he'd done to her unwilling body while she was possessed.

Knowing his goose was somehow unbelievably cooked; James asked blankly, "How'd you find out? I never told you." Andrea made his question moot, by vehemently reminding him he'd, "...taken advantage of me, you had your way with my incapacitated body!" Sure, in the course of explaining how she knew, she had to admit she'd hypnotized him too, but it was okay because, "...you told me everything you did, why you did it, and how it made you feel."

"You can't be mad: you weren't supposed to remember," defended James.

"Oh, so that'd make it okay?" rhetorically asked Andrea, "What I don't know or can't remember doesn't hurt me? Well, you're wrong, my ass hurt and I didn't poop right for the rest of the week!" letting her pent up resentment free. "However, don't worry, you're not going to have to consume this innocent squash; I am gonna make your ass eat it!"

"That's a little extreme—don't you think?" questioned James as he put his hands up and backed towards the shower, bonking his head on the still hanging enema bag.

"You didn't have those thoughts when it was my ass in the line of fire!"

"Well, if anything, there is no way that will it fit in my butt, just look at it," said James pointing at the abnormally large squash.

"Oh, so my ass is naturally looser and can accept objects of this magnitude?" Andrea fired back.

"Well, no, I didn't mean it like that...uh...asses aren't designed to take something so large."

"Oh yeah, why don't you tell that to mine?" shot down Andrea, easily defeating each of his pathetic attempts to assuage her anger, "Don't worry, where there's a will there's a way."

With his options limited James knew his only recourse was to throw a Hail Mary, "Double or nothing?"

"What?" asked Andrea temporarily intrigued by his offer, "What do you have in mind?"

"Just like I said 'double' or nothing," clarified James, "You pass this final dare and you receive double the number of backrubs, I win and that zucchini stays out of my butt and this hypnotism business never rears its head again—we're even, free and clear. And, we agree to keep vegetables out of our love life."

"What will I have to do?" questioningly asked Andrea, "Nothing gross—right?"

"Just like I said, 'double' or nothing—take it or leave it."

"If I say 'no,' what then?"

"I'll quit and let you win and you can have your minuscule number of backrubs, but not nearly as many as you have the chance to win right now."

As tempting as the idea of taking her winnings now and walking away was, Andrea couldn't deny how much better doubling their number would make her feel, plus, eyeing the red rubber bag, he has got to be running out of ideas, "Okay, deal."

Pleased to be led to their bedroom, Andrea relaxed since nothing too disgusting could transpire there—at least she hoped not. "Why don't you get undressed and lay down on the bed, and I'll give you a free back massage for all you've been through today," uncharacteristically offered James with an untrustworthy smile.

Andrea knew it sounded too good to be true, but she was blinded by the light of a free massage. She felt strangely pleased to have such a clean ass sticking up from the comforter to present to her husband. In fact, she'd even stuffed a pillow underneath her crotch to raise her tiny tush a little higher giving her the impression of having more of a badunkadunk than usual. Even the sheets felt great against her bare breasts as well as the feel of their fleece blanket softly rubbing against her clit as she squirmed awaiting his return.