[Fiction] Mysterious Red Envelope (you choose the ending!)

[neutrois]

The mysterious red envelope
enemas, chastity, d/s, inflation

Diane walks between the rhododendron bushes to ease her way up the narrow pathway between the apartment buildings to reach her bedroom, her only room, her one singular affectionately nicknamed hellbox.
Dew brushed off the waxy leaves patters on her wool peacoat, her clammy upper arms just a little too small for the oversized jacket. The sweat and heat from her labored breathing causing the inner silk lining to stick awkwardly against her slick skin.
It was too early in May to really pray for better weather. And yet, thought Diane, and yet. Thoughts of spring muddled together and formed an inner voice- a spindly dryad of sallow willow twigs, an angular yonic nest forming her abdomen, a layer of frosted snow dragging her leaves down, her arms and legs curled, the fetus of spring lying dormant under the snow. Of course it’s overly romantic, Diane thought, but the dryad spoke in brittle broken English and half remembered Oscar Wilde quotes, of the decadence of suffering, of the painful surprise of what was anticipated finally being achieved. Hollow hollow words springing from the hole in the dryad’s heart. Again Diane shook her head at the abject prosperity of her overactive imagination.
Diane fiddled with her keys and brought her hands to grip both sides of the doorknob, pulling the door off it’s frame so she could wrestle the old skeleton key into the locking mechanism, wiggle it enough in order to gain entry, and roll in, immediately shedding her skin as the heat from running into the hell box had just started to lick tingling pinches into her nerves, as the sweat ran under her peacoat and her nose began to thaw and melt.
She spat out a few nonsense syllables and kicked off her seasonally inappropriate kitten heels, unraveled her tunics after hanging up her peacoat, and bent over to grab her mail, which had been trampled, by someone. It was Diane. She does that every day.
The kettle on the stove was streaked with rusty coffee stains from her ritualistic dumping in of instant coffee, and it was a beautiful center piece for the reckless kitchen that trumpeted it’s own stand-a-lone quality of being a cornucopia of disordered eating patterns.
Spilling vibrantly like so many puritanical and phallic squashes and ears of corn splayed out a very different tier of the food pyramid. Tins and tins of butter cookies, pickle jars and piles of burn toast ends. Diane’s wrestling with the layers of clothing had not done a single thing for her mood. When will spring be here? The kitchen did not wait for spring. It enjoyed the anti-bacterial qualities of the cold winter drafts.
It was not many steps from the door to her bed but after shedding her winter gear her under clothes of yoga pants and a thermal long sleeved t-shirt hung awkwardly and still felt and smelled damp. Diane’s extremely thick black hair palpably rested, disheveled from the normal neat bob to a lovecraftian heap.
She slumped and groaned her way to her bed, crawling under the fluffy covers and curling up around a pillow in the middle of her bed. She felt empty and over burdened by her day.
Not even willing to start replaying the day’s events in her head she instead flipped open her laptop and saw a message
It was from Mr. Elle, a mysterious figure on the Internet forum she had begun frequenting earlier this year. He had approached her often enough that she always listened to his advice.
His advice was usually to follow a set of instructions for the rest of the evening, performing certain tasks and over all removing any feeling of control she had over her life. It was thrilling and very calming, even as she performed strenuous or difficult or embarrassing tasks she felt her head empty, joyously enraptured in her lack of power.
She wasn’t helpless. If anything she was more in control of the situation than she even knew. On the other side of the screen Mr. Elle was frustrated writing and rewriting drafts of instructions, pandering to her interests, trying to get her to pay attention to them.
But back to Diane.
The message was no different than any other. A simple solution, a list of tasks, and then the standard alternatives/consequences that gave her a little bit of wiggle room, as Mr. Elle lived in a different time zone.
Diane was cold under the covers, kneeling in a fetal position, but her breath hitched and her face flushed when she read the message, her tight panties growing tighter as her clit bounced up and strained against the soft fabric.
She absentmindedly fondled herself. Reading and re-reading the list.
Through the laberinthian apartment complex, the dewy rhododendron bush, and down the street, was her mailbox. It was a mile away; she tracked once on her phone. It was an awkward walk, the entrance to her place being one obstacle, but the hills and crumbling potholes made it a little scary to walk down.
Especially with what Mr. Elle had planned for her.
She walked into her little shower booth, her equipment and toys haphazardly scattered on the floor and the hanging wall storage unit.
She sighed. Moments when she saw how disorganized she really was pulled her out of the game. She started following the instructions.
First she filled her big red rubber enema bag up with warm soapy water. Rosemary Dr. Bronners. Heavenly. Her skin prickled with goose bumps as the steam caressed her cold flesh. The 3 quart bag was sturdy and large, and she hung it over her shower head. Next she grabbed her lube of choice, Crisco, and slathered on a thick creamy layer across the surfaces of her inflatable enema nozzle. It wasn’t too big bug as she pumped it up it usually made her feel really full.
She slipped it up in it’s uninflated state and connected the long hose from the bag hanging on the shower head to the short rubber nozzle in the inflatable buttplug. Immediately the hot soapy water flowed in. She adjusted the flow with the clamp on the hose and began inflating the buttplug. She had pumped it up all the way once, 30 pumps, and it had been 7 inches across. Obviously, at the time, she thought to herself, it would be impossible to actually pump it 30 times once inside of her, simply because no toy could really push that hard against the inner strength of the colon. It still made her really squirmy to think about that big engorged balloon filling her up. She touched her clit and kept inflating. Mr. Elle had said to pump it 12 times while it filled up and 4 more times once she had walked to the mailbox.
The pressure from the enema was no match for the increasing pressure of the plug. She was feeling really helpless. Her whole body was warming up from the soapy water, which was already beginning to cause just the faint tremors of cramps.
The enema bag was almost three quarters of the way empty but Diane felt completely full. She slowed down the intake of water and felt her engorged stomach. Diane is very slender, almost angular, but her breasts are firm and her nipples swoop elegantly into points. They are dark and she dislikes them, but she loves when Mr. Elle tells her to clamp them, or cover them in icy hot.
When she is full up like this, her inflated colon is a round soft center of her skinny body. Her long narrow hands caress the soft oval her belly makes, her stomach which normally sits so flat under the protrusion of her hip bones actually spills over her mons, the vast volume of water causing her belly to flop softly across her whole abdomen. From behind her, the enema tube coils down between her buttocks, and her heavy gut hangs down, between her legs. She continues to rub her belly counter clockwise and wait for the cramps to subside.
It begins to take too long. In a fit of masochistic energy she breaks the tension and does 5 inflations quickly, causing her body to convulse, her asshole to become wildly dilated, and her g spot and bladder to become crushed. Her urge to pee and release the enema was very high. But she wasn’t done. She released the clamp and almost a full quart of hot soapy water came flowing down into her bowels. She let out a hiss. The plug was completely effective. Her bladder was not so effective. As she did the last pump her bladder, under the pressure, released, and her legs bowed together and she started to pant, out of breath. She quickly showered off the piss, and grabbed the other things she would need to grab her mail. Her hair was still wet from the shower so she also grabbed a hat.
The chastity belt she had ordered was here. Only a few days had passed but she already loved it beyond any toy she had ever got. It was tight and very very hard to ignore. Her clit was absolutely inaccessible, and every single plug she owned wouldn’t fit through the anal hole, so when she closed off the enema nozzle of the inflatable plug, and slipped inside the chastity belt, the plug could not be removed until she took the belt off. She looked for the key and realized it was still in ice from last time she had played with Mr. Elle. She grinned, nervous and shy. Her face turned to a pained disgust as she realized how hugely the 3-quart enema had misshapen her previously flat stomach. It was going to be difficult to get the belt on.
The next step was to place a small clitoris vibrator on her mons and tape it there. She did it quickly, knowing that she wasn’t going to be able to take the remote control she had in her hand after she turned it on. She was informed to leave it on its lowest setting, barely detectable by sound, and just leave the apartment without it. Previously she had worn it in the same way but was allowed to turn it off when she was around people. She prayed she wouldn’t run into anyone on her walk.
The enema was sloshing around in her. The soap was starting to tingle, frothed by her movements to get ready for her walk.
Diane straddled the chastity belt and lowered her plug down so that it was over the anal hole on both ends. That way it would protect her from releasing. The belt was like underwear that locked in the front. It was very snug normally and Diane had never worn it while holding such a big enema. It was a struggle, and when she finally locked it with a click, her inflated stomach was cinched in two large unflattering bumps and her clit, from the added circumference of the water, was even more pinched than normal. The enema sloshed inside, and made a groaning sound. Her underwear, socks, boots, pants, and warm tunics went on over her under clothes she had tossed off before taking the enema. Every move was difficult with the huge plug gaping her ass, there was barely room to move her legs closer than 6 inches apart without the large plug or the chastity belt pinching at her. It was very uncomfortable.
She looked again at the ice with the key in it, and knew that after she came back she would still have to wait 20 minutes to release. The instructions said to wait until she came back to take the ice out of the freezer but she desperately wanted to break the jar and release now.
She turned on the remote control vibrator and felt the low level hum against her engorged and constrained clitoris.
It was really difficult not to faint from the awful pleasure of her cramping stomach and the eroticism of the chastity belt. She rubbed her vulva against the vibrator and tried to gain more than a tease but with a sigh, she just headed outside.
She locked the door behind her and set off on her walk. It was night and still. The night sky was dotted with stars. The clouds were whispers of twilight blue.
It was cold and her breath quickened, as the first couple sets stated off a huge wave of cramps. He whole body contorted as she clenched her ass around the immovable plug and tried to rearrange the sloshing water, but the belt made it more uncomfortable and almost impossible.
Her pushes and prods set off more cramps and it was intolerably painful. She wanted to claw her way through the steel of the chastity belt and rub her clit while releasing the enema, even if it was in public. She was so desperate.
The walk continued. Her loyalty to Mr. Elle and the game was very strong. Her wool peacoat protected her large inflated stomach from sight, but the plug and chastity belt both mad her walk a little funny. Until she was out of the apartment complex she walked strangely, but when she got onto the sidewalk she straightened her back and walked confidently down the street. Her face smiled but inside she was howling and moaning. The posture made her plug push directly into her g spot. The vibrator was still humming against her blood filled clit.
As she walked she felt the big enema sloshing. She lost herself in the rhythmic sloshing of her own belly, like listening to the ocean. She would have been very cold in the night air except for the warm enema.
The tranquility achieved during this walk was made possible by Diane’s almost unlimited potential to eroticize her own pain and humiliation. Mr. Elle loved it about her.
The belt was so snug against her swollen belly. She felt very cozy, lost in her erotic haze of discomfort.
She wondered if the mail was going to be just bills or perhaps some cute earrings she had ordered from the Internet.
She painfully bent over and, awkwardly because the angle was making her clit crushed under the pressure of the belt, removed her mail after unlocking it with another key.
She found on top of the pile a big red envelope. It was addressed to her but had no return address. She opened it without thinking, and saw it was a handwritten note.
“Release the air of the inflatable butt plug. Do it now. Hold the enema all the way home of there will be consequences”.
Her mouth was dry. How had Mr. Elle known where her mailbox was? She was so confused but didn’t once think to question his game. She released all the pressure in the inflatable plug. Suddenly holding the dense weight of the three quarts of warm soapy water felt like a Sisyphean task. Her chastity belt was still keeping the plug in, but she knew from experience that water could escape around the plug if it was small enough. She was so flushed from thinking about holding the enema up the long hill, avoiding the potholes in the dark, and trying to salvage her clothes.
She was in a dream. She walked quickly up the hill, the water churning especially hard as she strained to keep her now loose asshole clenched around the plug. Her big swollen belly strained against the hard metal chastity belt.
She almost sobbed when she lost her balance and almost fell into a puddle. Her heart pounded. She didn’t want to release this enema all over herself but she didn’t dare pump up the plug again.





So what happens next? I'll try to write more tomorrow based on how many suggestions I get. Let me know what you think!

[JGVBjj]

I like it, I feel like she would end up holding the enema until just before he told her to release it.

[sexualfeelings]

I think she would push herself to hold it as long as she could and do anything she could to extend her time with it in. She would be able to hold it in for that time, of course.

[JGVBjj]

Please don't let this die

[neutrois]

lol i haven't had annnnnny time to write recently but I'll try it soon

[neutrois]

Diane was at the door

Mr. Elle was at the door

he fit in


she was a scattered mess- hazy panic and arousal

her belly full of water, the motion of the walk making her heavy

pendulous, under his spell



Mr. Elle led her against the door

He pressed his large hands to the left and right and connected just his fingertips with the door, trapping her in a delicate prison

Diane made a vauge noise

it was her breath leaving her body

it was the feeling of complete and utter surrender




Mr. Elle opened his waistcoat once the moment had passed



out came a third arm

It was semi transparent and glowed faintly



she was still locked in chastity
she still had a buttplug keeping a massive enema inside her


the arm reached inside her belly and somehow pulled the water out through her body


the water took on a life as blue energy seized itself with several sparks of light as the third arm delicately maneuvered it


The water was now totally blue and it was not reacting to gravity

it was a long beautiful ribbon and suddenly

Diane realized that Mr. Elle had impregnated her

And she thought it was water

and she thought her baths were just charming rituals



she hadn't meant to summon the devil and birth his child


but she lit the right candles
she sprinkled the right herbs



"you're my dream man"
she said

trembling.


Mr. Elle smiled


"What's your name, beloved?"

trembling
trembling
trembling


"whatever you want my name to be, for the rest of my life"