There was a subtle bloat to Lisle's abdomen - one that was too diffuse to be pregnancy or malnutrition, but too focused to be the first sign of obesity.  Lisle felt cold, then hot, then cold again as the fluid finished washing into her.  And still, those relentless fingers worked their magic.<br/><br/>In a rational world, she would know that the two constellations of sensation were separate - that the taut fullness and the growing urgency were from the enema, and the hip-tugging arousal and building tension were from the fingers stroking her.  But this was not a rational world.  All the sensations merged into one form, and cause and effect were cast to the wind.<br/><br/>Gerlinde stroked, and Lisle hunched.  Gerlinde whispered, and Lisle started to whimper and moan.<br/><br/><em>Good kitty...  Good kitty... Good kitty...</em><br/><br/>A ripple formed in the taut bloat of Lisle's belly.  Cold.  Hot.  Cold.  A desire to let go.  Pressure in her guts.  Another ripple.  Another hunch.  Lisle was sure she could hear sloshing in her abdomen.  She felt swollen, light-headed, and unbalanced.  She felt her sphincter loosen, and with a surge of panic, consciously clamped it tight again.<br/><br/>Cold. Hot. Cold.  A shiver.  A shudder.  A full-on quaking gripped her as sensations collided and muscles rippled.  A groan, and the hunching was suddenly far more rapid before her breath stopped and she went rigid for a moment.<br/><br/>Rigid - except for contractions visible in her swollen belly and her raised petals.  A sigh escaped, and time started again as her muscles started to relax.