“Good girl. You’re almost done, just a few more minutes.”
Another agonizing cramp hits my stomach and this time I moan for real. “Please, I can’t. I can’t. Ithurts.”
“I’m sure it does.” Axel again, his tone turning harder now. “That’s all those nasty little lies getting cleaned out of your system. But when it’s all done you’ll be Daddy’s good Little girl again, won’t you, Melanie?”
I want to plead for mercy, but the words are strangled by another scream as more pain twists my insides into knots. And I’m hit with the sudden realization that not only does this hurt, worse than anything I’ve ever felt before, but I also need togo.
Like really,reallybad.
“Please,” I rasp out, staring up at him through blurry eyes. “I need… I need…” God. The humiliation of begging to be allowed to use the toilet heats my skin, turning my body into a raging inferno of embarrassment and shame.
“Not yet, little one. You’re going to have to hold it all inside for another minute and then you can use the potty.”
Sweat slicks my skin and I’m panting for breath, all the air having been squeezed from my lungs by their torture.
One minute. I just have to survive another minute.
Another cramp hits and my bowels grow ever more insistent that they need to evacuateright fucking nowand I’m sure I’m about to further humiliate myself by losing control right here on this table.
Would serve them right, the assholes.
Finally, after what feels more like hours than a minute, Axel unstraps me from the table and lifts me into his arms to carry me into a large bathroom with Ford trailing behind us still holding the bag.
“Uncle Ford is going to take the nozzle out, but you need to be a big girl and hold it until Daddy puts you on the toilet.” Axel’s tone has softened, making him sound surprisingly gentle. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
Too focused on the pain to speak, I manage a nod and the next thing I know, something slides from my bottom. And then I’m perched on the cool porcelain, sobbing as my bowels violently empty themselves into the bowl beneath me.
Someone flushes for me as the enema continues its work, and I want to crawl into a hole and die right there. This is, hands down, the most humiliating experience of my life and all I want is for it to beover.
Finally,finally, my body has completely emptied itself, leaving me feeling hollow and aching in the aftermath.
“There we go,” Axel murmurs as he helps me up from the toilet to—oh god—wipe my ass for me.
I don’t even have any tears left to cry, or the strength to feel anything more than mild embarrassment, so I let him manhandle me. When I’m all clean, he scoops me up into his arms again and carries me to the oversized tub behind him.
Steaming water envelops me and I sigh as my eyes drift closed. I let myself float, literally and figuratively as the warmth leeches the aches from my body.
“Lanie. Look at me please.”
Stirred by the tender firmness of his voice, I force my eyes open to look up at Axel. And I’m rewarded with a small smile that has my insides twisting up for a completely different reason.
“Good girl. Did you learn your lesson about lying to Daddy?”
“Yes, Daddy.” And I have. While I still have every intention of escaping this prison they call a house, I will have to do everything in my power not to lie to him in the process.
Or at least to not get caught.
“Good. I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy punishing you, because I do. I love hearing you cry and beg Daddy for mercy. But I have a feeling you’d be much happier here if you were getting rewarded rather than punished, wouldn’t you, baby?”
Curiosity gets the best of me. “What kind of rewards?”
“Well, good Little girls get treats like hot cocoa with extra marshmallows and desserts with their dinner.” His fingers slide up the inside of my thigh. “Andverygood girls get to come all over Daddy’s hand or tongue or cock whenever they want.”
As he speaks, he pushes a thick finger inside me and I arch up, my pussy clamping down around him as pleasure floods my system. It seems impossible and wrong for me to feel anything other than anger or hatred for him in this moment, but here I am, aching for his touch like some sort of wanton woman.
“Are you going to be my good girl, Melanie? Are you going to be Daddy’s good little baby?”
I don’t want to say it. But every stroke of his finger inside me drives the will to fight further and further from my grasp. Until I’m grinding myself against his hand, whimpering and whining as the water sloshes around me.
