Chapter 3 - three

I look up from my task when you waddle into the room, regard you critically, and smile. You stand next to my chair at the kitchen table, and look quizzically at my project. I slip my hand underneath your shirt, and caress your swollen abdomen. Already big, I murmur; sampling the effects of the day's gluttony. My eyes grow dreamy as I run my hands over your belly, anticipating how much bigger you will be by this evening. The kitchen table is crowded with open boxes, packing materials; our enema gear is next to me. I have obviously been fiddling with it. I have been doing a little research, darling, I think you are going to like what I have discovered. I rise from my chair, keeping one hand on your belly, softly stroking it. I remove one of the clear taught pouches from an open box. It is a liquid filled bag, soft and squishy resembling an oversized IV bag. This is for you, I think you will be very excited to learn what is in here, but for now, the contents are a surprise. I rub circles on your belly, cheeks flushed by my arousal as I explain. Your new fluid is more viscous than water; it is going to require a larger tip and a stronger flow in order to get it into you. I pat one of the bags and give you an impish grin, when you learn what this is going to do to you; I think you will want to hold it in as long as you can. This will help, I say showing you a small black bladder that fits snugly against the side of the delivery tube. I give the hand bulb a few quick pumps, making the bladder inflate. See baby, you won't have to work to keep it all in. This will fit comfortably inside you, inflating to the necessary size when you need its help.

The timer chimes. It has only been a couple of hours since you had lunch, but your mouth waters as you view your afternoon snack, Homemade pot pie, made in my largest pie plate. Rich savory gravy, chunks of meat swimming in golden fat, wrapped in a buttery flaky crust. I want you to eat it all baby then I will help you upstairs for your nap. You sit, spreading your legs wide. Eat for me baby. I can't take my eyes off you as you devour my pie. I suspect you are taking big gluttonous bites because I am watching you. You know how much it turns me on to watch you eat. I squirm in my chair opposite you confirming your success in my arousal. The corners of your mouth turn up in a smile. Your hand moves to the crown of your belly as you labor to finish my pie. I push back my chair and move to stand behind you. My lips graze your cheek; I lean down and rub your tight stomach.

Put it all in Baby, one slice left..

My hands slide down to cradle your belly; your nose fills with the scent of my hair as I lean over you. This is exactly how I want you baby, I say, lifting your heavy belly slightly. You have fed all day for me; it is time for you to rest. When you wake you will have your surprise. You slowly climb the stairs, you are not so full yet that you need my support. Later, I think with a shiver, as I picture how much bigger you will grow for me when you wake.