The Lessons Ch. 11

"Not too much you bad boy," she smiled at him. She still wanted to tease him. She went to get the marbles. She took them over to the bed and he followed her there. She handed the bowl to him and resumed her position on the bed: on all fours and facing the door. She smiled at him, like a compliant puppy, and slowly pulled her skirt once again over her rump.

He had now seen her butt so many times he had lost count, but it was still a delightful sight as it was slowly revealed beneath her plaid skirt. She dropped to her elbows and stuck it up into the air. "How many do you want to put in?" she asked.

He had no idea. He doubted that he could fit all of them in. There must be around 20 or 30 in the bowl. Certainly more than just a few. He picked one up and placed it against her asshole.

She snickered. "It feels funny. It's all cool and smooth." He then slowly and carefully pushed it inside. It went in easily and disappeared. He liked the sight of her rosebud opening and closing, it was like it was playing peek-a-boo, giving him a quick peak and then shutting down tight. "Let's be sure we at least remember how many," she said more seriously. She didn't want any unexpected accidents later.

"That was the first one," he said. He then pushed in another. Her butthole winked shut as the marble popped in.

She wiggled in appreciation. "This is fun," she said. "I can feel them."

He popped in two more, one after the other. He heard them click against each other as he pushed the fourth one in.

"Wait a second," she said, after the fourth was inserted. She seemed to be adjusting herself in some manner. She thought she could in fact feel them rolling around inside of her. It was an odd sensation. It was also hard for her to just let him push them in. She was used to pushing things out; she had never tried to pull something in. She assumed that if you could push something out you must also have the ability to just pull something in, but she couldn't tell if she was doing anything at all. If she just relaxed her asshole to let them in she could the feel the ones inside trying to get out. She waited a moment to relax, hoping that the four that were in there were getting nicely lodged and comfortable, but uncertain how she could help him with this. "Ok, try another."

George put the fifth marble at the entrance and gently pushed. This one was harder to get in. He could feel the other marbles blocking the way. However, with some effort the marble slipped by the fourth one, seeming to lodge right next to it rather than forcing the whole line deeper inside.

Sara grunted. This was harder than she thought it would be. She actually figured that she would be able to get the whole bowl inside. She certainly had poops much bigger than five marbles, but it seemed like her body did not like the idea of things going up the wrong way. Plus, they were so round, small, and slippery, it was hard to keep them inside. She asked to wait again.

George was in no hurry. He liked his view. He could see her cheeks and asshole working away, squirming, trying to get the marbles to fall somehow in place to make room for more. He could tell that it was a tough job. He patted her fanny with affectionate encouragement. She actually found his patting a little distracting but she appreciated the thought.

"All right, I'm ready for another, but I don't know how much more of these I can do."

He put the sixth marble on her brownie hole, and pushed down hard so that it would go in right away. She yelped in shock with his increased pressure. When her butt hole opened up for the sixth marble, the others seemed to desperately want to pop right back out, but George was too quick and he forced the sixth one in. Her sphincter quickly snapped shut when it passed through, almost like it would cut off his finger. She groaned, straining to hold her asshole tightly shut so that none would escape.

"I think that's enough, Georgie, I don't think I can hold any more in." George, however, wanted to force in more. "Ten would make a good even number, Sara. Let's just do a few more." George then placed the bowl next to her knees on the bed in order to use both hands. He gripped the next marble with his forefinger and thumb, and then used the index finger of his other hand to push it down into her rectum. As soon as her asshole opened up he covered it with all three fingers to keep any one of the marbles from popping out.

"Mmmmm," Sara groaned, feeling the pressure increase. She felt like she was stricken with a real bad case of diarrhea that was making it clear that she had better head to the bathroom real fast. It was very uncomfortable, but also kind of exciting.

George could see that she was uncomfortable. He considered stroking the lips of her cunt that were also well displayed, just inches away. This might help her relax. However, he was concerned that she might object and, in any case, relaxing would probably just have the effect of releasing the marbles. He wondered if they would all just start popping out when she released them, perhaps even shooting up in the air.

He playfully suggested, "Maybe when I'm done we can play a game of marbles, with you having to shoot them from her butt."

Sara laughed but quickly stopped, as the laughing had the effect of her losing concentration and relaxing her anus. "Don't make me laugh," she warned him.

George placed an eighth marble on her asshole, quickly pushed down hard, and again kept it inside with his three fingers. As soon as he felt her anus close, he grabbed a ninth marble and pushed it down into her brownie hole like he had with the previous one.

Sara hid her face in her hands and groaned with discomfort. Thank goodness, she thought, that they had first cleaned her out with the soda. She knew that once she let go, virtually anything else might come popping out. She seriously doubted that she could take anymore, but then she felt George push in a tenth marble. She really felt like she had to go bad.

George noticed that her anus was slow to shut over the tenth marble. He had to keep his fingers pushed down hard to keep them all in. Maybe just one more he thought, and then they heard the door knock.

Sara immediately resumed a sitting position, her skirt flying back down as she sat back on her haunches facing the door as it opened to reveal her father.

As Sara moved George also grabbed the bowl of marbles so that they wouldn't spill all over the bed, as well as to hide the bulge in his pants. When her dad opened the door he was standing next to the bed, looking a bit shocked, holding the bowl of marbles.

Sara's father was confused. He didn't like seeing that George had now moved to the bed, and there was certainly no school books in their hands. But, they clearly had not been up to anything bad. He was just standing there holding the bowl of marbles she used to play with as a child.

"Daddy!," she exclaimed in annoyance and evident discomfort. "What do you want now?" She was always irritated when he burst in, but she seemed to be especially so this time.

He did recognize that he had promised not to come back, but he quickly made it clear that this was not his idea. "I am sorry Sara, I know I said that I would leave the two of you alone, but your mother can't find the Bundt pan. She said that you used it last and she can't find where you put it."

Sara let her feelings of anger dissipate. She knew that it wouldn't do any good to get angry. She just needed him to get out of there as soon as possible. In any case, it was true that she had used the Bundt pan, but she didn't understand why her mother couldn't find it. "Isn't it in the cupboard with all the cake pans?"

"No dear, I'm sure it's not. She pulled all of them out. It's not there. We thought we could just ask you."

This was perfectly reasonable, but she had no idea where it was. Her thinking though was not particularly clear right now. "Golly daddy, I just don't know."

"Well, I'm sorry dear but she really needs it. Perhaps you could come and help her look. Maybe you put it in some funny place."

George thought of a funny place things were put but kept his thoughts to himself.

There was no way she could say no. She had to go help find it. "Ok, I'll help you look."

Her father looked at George. "What's with the marbles?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Kirstin, Sara was just showing them to me. We were taking a little break from math."

Mr. Kirstin could see that both math books were open, and still in the two separate locations. It was all very innocent. There certainly wasn't anything sexual about Sara's marbles.

"How is your leg dear?" She was glad he reminded her about that. She might have forgotten to fake the injury if he hadn't. However, she needed no reminder to walk funny as soon as she got off the bed. The marbles. As soon as she stood up, she felt them trying to get out. She clenched down hard on her asshole, and gave George a nervous glance. He understood the problem but he didn't know how he could help. She walked stiffly toward the bedroom door. "Yes, it still bothers me a bit."

Her dad wasn't surprised to see her walking so awkwardly but now it seemed worse. Now she was walking with her legs tightly together, taking somewhat little steps, whereas before she was limping with each leg rather awkwardly spread. "I really wonder if we should have Dr. Winters take a look at it tomorrow. You don't seem to be getting any better."

"Really, daddy, I'm fine. It just stiffens up a bit. I've had this before, it's fine." As she got more comfortable, she was able to quicken the pace, but still having to consciously hold her sphincter tightly closed. She knew if she relaxed just a second a marble would drop out. She wondered if perhaps she should just let it happen as she gingerly walked down the hall. She could say that there was some in a pocket of her skit and they fell out of a hole. But she quickly rejected this idea. She had no idea how many would come out or when. In addition, she would have to pick them up and her dad might then get a good peak under her dress and see that she had no panties, and more would likely come popping out as she was trying to pick them up. She would just have to hold on tight and get through this. The challenge though was again kind of appealing. With her thighs clenched tightly as she walked she could feel a tingly excitement within her cunnie, along with the sensual pressure in her rectum. She felt like giggling but with each rising of a smile came a relaxing of her bowels and a need to then clamp down harder.

"You also look a little flush, dear. Are you feeling alright, maybe you have a fever." He tried to feel her forehead but she pulled away.

"Really, daddy, I am fine." She was thinking perhaps that she could just tell him that she had to go to the bathroom. She could then release them into the toilet, but he blocked that plan.

"I heard you run to the bathroom earlier. I think perhaps we should take your temperature."

"Daddy, no!" She was adamant about that. Her father still took her temperature with an anal thermometer. She thought this was very infantile, and perhaps even inappropriate, but when she had a fever she just wanted to feel better and wouldn't object. He would always do it in a way that would protect her modesty. She would lower her panties and lie face down on her bed or the couch, keeping her legs closed so that he couldn't see her cunnie. He would carefully part her cheeks to insert the thermometer, which he had always carefully lubricated with Vaseline jelly. He would then place a towel or light blanket over her bottom so that she wouldn't feel so exposed while they waited. She would feel rather silly, lying there with the thermometer making a tent pole above her fanny. But he assured her that an anal temperature was always the most accurate. Sometimes she liked it.

In any case, this was not the time for a temperature! "Daddy, Georgie is here. I can't have you do that when Georgie is here."

"Honey, he clearly won't be in the same room. We can stop by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen. It won't take long."

"Daddy, no, it will take long and I don't want to have to explain to him why I was gone so long. What would I tell him? I can't tell him that you were taking my temperature, you know, in there." She wished they could talk about something else. She needed a distraction. This wasn't helping her at all.

He really didn't see the need for her to tell him anything, let alone that specific detail, but it was nice to hear that his daughter was so uncomfortable with lying. He could wait until after he left. By this time, they had arrived at the kitchen.

Her mother had all of the pots and pans out of the cupboard. Sara did feel bad about that. She still didn't remember where she had put the Bundt pan. She started to carefully walk into the kitchen and realized that she really couldn't help her mother. She didn't know how she would be able to keep the marbles in if she had to get up on a chair, and even if she could do that, her parents would be able to tell that she had removed her panties. They would also be able to see if she got down on the floor to look in a lower cupboard. She had a moment of panic. She had no idea how she would get out of this one.

Her father took her arm to assist her into the room, and, fortunately, she then remembered. "In the cupboard with the good stuff," she announced. "I put the Bundt pan in the cupboard with the good china."

"Well, why would you do that," her mother asked, getting up off the floor to go to the cupboard with the good china.

"I'm sorry, mother. I was in a hurry to clean up before I went out and I just stuck it there. I was planning on moving it back when I got home but I just forgot."

They both looked at her, wondering if she deserved a quick spanking for causing them so much trouble. They did still spank her on occasion. Her father was particularly proficient at this form of punishment. Her mother wondered if she had gotten a bit old for this, but dad insisted that she was never too old to be disciplined. She had certainly put her mother through a lot of needless frustration. But, they knew that it would be too embarrassing for her to be spanked while George was still in the house.

Sara could tell what they were thinking and she quickly backed out of the room. "Well, George is waiting, mom, dad, and I better get back. We don't have much more homework to do and he needs to get home," she said as she was stiffly moving her legs in short steps, clenching her bottom to keep the marbles in.

"All right, dear, but not much longer," her father admonished. "Yes, daddy," she then turned and quickly dashed out.

As she ran back to the room she kept one hand tightly against the bottom of her cheeks beneath her skirt, ready to catch any marbles that might fall out. She ran swiftly to the bedroom, desperately worried that she wouldn't make it there in time. She burst into the room and quickly shut the door behind her, gasping, totally out of breath. She then relaxed her sphincter. Marble after marble immediately fell from her butt onto the floor, bouncing and rolling as they hit. It was a comical sight and George couldn't help but laugh. She also found it funny and laughed along, enjoying the sensation as the marbles were released. It was like she was pooping little poops while standing up. The feeling of relief from the intense pressure was also tremendous. It was like she had to go real, real bad, and now it was just happening in a torrent of droppings. She counted the marbles as they hit: One, two, three, a bit of pause; then, four, five, six more quickly dropped out, clinking on each other as they hit the floor and rolled across the rug. They laughed at the sight and sounds, but, then nothing. "Wasn't there a tenth one?" she asked George.

"Uh, I think so."

"Don't just think so, George, you said you would keep count."

"There was ten, Sara, I'm certain of that." He in fact thought that there might have been one more, but he was certain of ten.

"Oh nuts," she said. For a second she wondered whether one might have fallen out when she was running back to her room, but she was pretty sure that didn't happen. She had kept her anus shut very tightly, with her hand clasped over the area of her butt hole just in case.

"Oh, darn, George, I think one is in there kind of deep." They looked around the floor, counting and recounting the ones that had come out. Maybe they just miscounted them as they squirted out? George even looked under the bed and dresser but there didn't seem to be any more marbles.

Sara strained her bowels, trying to get a tenth one to come out. Her face was all scrunched up, her fists clenched. She bent over. But, it wouldn't come out. She couldn't even feel it. She then squatted, as if she was taking a dump in her bedroom, her arms resting on her knees. She found this posture to be very embarrassing. George was smiling. She gave him a fake scowl. "Don't you look at me while I'm doing this. I can't do it while you're watching." By now, he was beginning to think that she actually liked him watching her, despite what she said.

"I can't see anything," he protested. "You're skirt is covering everything up."

"That isn't the issue, and you know it," but he could detect a little smile. She then scrunched up her face. 'Boy, it's lucky I cleaned myself out before, as this could be real embarrassing,' she thought.

"Don't you fart or anything, you're dad might hear."

She started laughing. "Stop that, I can't do it if you make me laugh." She even spread her butt cheeks with her hands, and then even poked a finger around inside, but couldn't feel anything. She was feeling sincerely frustrated and worried. "George, what can I do?"

She looked very upset. George figured she could just wait until tomorrow. He couldn't see how a marble would really hurt her. But, he did think of a way that he might be able to help her, and himself.

"Stay where you are," he said and walked around behind her. He got down on the floor on his back.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He slid forward on his back so his face was directly below her squatted butt. She let go of her cheeks, a little self-conscious of spreading them as she was squatted down right above his face.

He reached up and grasped her bottom. "I know that mother dogs will lick the butts of their babies to get them to poop. I bet it might help." He wasn't sure if it was in fact dogs, or even if he had the story right, but he did honestly have the memory.

Sara had never heard such a thing, but she was desperate and willing to try anything. And, the thought of him licking her down there sounded fun.

George pulled open her cheeks, and pulled her bottom down to his lips. He began to lick.

Sara laughed and almost fell right into his face. "Wait," she protested. Trying not to laugh, she shifted her stance so that she was leaning back, using her hands to keep her balance, and then aimed her asshole for his mouth. George again pulled open her cheeks and he brought her asshole right onto his mouth. He licked and caressed her anus with his tongue.

The sensation was great for Sara. It felt so good to have Georgie licking away at her anus. It was such an odd sensation, and so intimate. She doubted that any other boy would do this for her. She had to admit that she liked it a lot. She realized that she was actually sitting on a boy's face. She guessed it might even be more fun to sit the other way, but for now this was still pretty darn good. It had been neat when she was bent over but this position was even more intimate. She moved her fanny around. His nose would occasionally touch her cunt. She hoped she didn't smell bad, but he seemed to be quite content. She giggled. She wanted to again see what they looked like, but her dress was over his head. She could feel his tongue tickling her anus, massaging the muscles, and even trying to poke its way in. She wouldn't know what her father would think if she saw them now, and she was getting so excited. She wanted to play with herself. She knew he would like the view if she played with her cunnie while he licked her bottom hole, but if she lifted up one hand she would fall flat into his face. She laughed at the thought.