Chapter Seventeen
Kris
The moment Ishmael ordered him to strip, Kris sprung into action.
No way am I going to make him any madder. I can’t believe he’s let me off this easy as it is. Not gonna push my luck, nuh uh.
When the last of his clothing hit the floor, he bent down and picked them up one by one, neatly folding them and placing them on the counter. Ishmael straightened up and turned to face him.
“That feels right. Test it with your hand and wrist and memorise the temperature. Any hotter and you’ll bun yourself. Any colder and it will be uncomfortable for entirely different reasons.”
Ishmael moved aside to give him room. Kris stepped into the shower and steeled himself as he took the nozzle. He felt the warm water trickle over his palm.
“Just this much?” he asked in surprise.
“Yes, you don’t wish to flood you insides all at once. You risk injury if you do so. A gentle cleanse. Now, take the lube and lube up the tip of the nozzle, then your asshole.”
Kris flushed but did as he was told. Moments later, under Ishmael’s instruction, he slipped the tip inside his rectum and clenched his buttocks about it while leaning against the shower wall, hands braced against the wall. Kris was surprised at how pleasant it felt. Pleasant that is, until his stomach began to distend and a cramp hit him.
“Easy,” Ishmael said. “Take a hand and rub your belly gently in counterclockwise motions.”
To his surprise, Ishmael’s advice helped.
“Just a bit more,” Ishmael said.
A few moments later, Ishmael turned off the water and instructed him to keep his ass clenched as he removed the nozzle. Then it was time to step out and empty himself into the toilet. His cheeks burned as he barely managed to sit down before it all came gushing out, thundering into the bowl. Ishmael silently handed him a wet wipe to clean himself with.
“Do you remember the settings?”
“Yes, sir,” Kris said, unable to meet his gaze.
“Good. You need to go do it again, twice more. The third time, release in the shower so you can see that it is just water. If it is not, rinse it down and do it once more time. This is to be done once a week, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.’
“My chef will be adding extra fibre to your diet to help keep you healthy and cleaned out. Once you’re eating properly and stuff is moving along in there optimally, you’ll be a lot cleaner. Just be sure to always cleanse your ass hole thoroughly with a wet wipe after going. Right now, there are disposable ones in there to put in the bin after use. A small lidded pail will be arriving along with some soft terry squares that will be kept in a sterile saline solution in an airtight container. When those come, use those and put them in the pail when you’re done.”
Washable butt wipes? Really?
“We try to be environmentally responsible here across the pond,” Ishmael said as if reading his mind. “All of our outdoor lighting is solar as is the heating for the pool and sauna, for example.”
“My mom uses a clothesline when it’s not so hot that it’d turn everything into a solid board in five minutes,” Kris offered.
“A clothesline,” Ishmael mused. “Perhaps an airer would not be remiss.”
For the hotel laundry? Where would he put it where it wouldn’t be seen?
Ishmael looked at him. “Go on, finish cleaning yourself,” he said. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He opened the bathroom door and exited, pulling out his phone as he went and not bothering to close the bathroom door behind him. Not that it mattered, Kris supposed. They were currently alone in the penthouse, and it wasn’t as if any of the staff needed to come to the bedroom or peer into the bathroom for any reason he could think of.
It took two more times before the water rinsed clear and then he re-showered his outer body, skipping his hair. Turning off the water and stepping out, he realised Ishmael had not said whether or not to redress. He decided to err on the side of caution and wrap a towel about himself so he could ask for further instructions. He found Ishmael sat in the armchair in the bedroom.
“Good, you’re done.”
“Yeah, um, sorry, I wasn’t sure if I should get dressed again.”
“No, no, you’re fine. Drop the towel and follow me, please.”
Kris let go of where he was holding the towel closed, letting it fall to the floor as he stepped forward. He shivered in the cooler air of the main room, feeling puzzled as to where they were going. Ishmael opened the door to his study. Fear gripped Kris immediately. Kris’ feet rooted him to the spot.
