It would get better. It had to.
“It won’t be bad,” I assured him.
He didn’t have to look at me for me to know he didn’t believe it. But I knew. I’d done research. I’d done plenty of research, before he’d come to me and after.
I led him from the kitchen to the basement door, and he balked instead of following me down the stairs. I frowned at him. “Come.”
He shook his head, shying away.
I leveled my gaze upon him, unwilling to accept that as an answer. “I said, come.”
“I don’t want to go back down there. I was good, wasn’t I? Master?” he pleaded, looking up at me and leveling those gorgeous eyes upon mine.
“You were. You are a good boy,” I told him, running my fingers through his hair.
“Then why do I have to go back down there?” The words drew up into a whine, and I slid my hand down his neck and to his back. “Please don’t make me go down there. I’ll… I’ll do anything you want.”
“You’ll do anything I want anyway,” I couldn’t help but say, only to sigh when he tensed beneath my touch. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yeah? Then how’d you mean it? Because it was pretty clear to me.”
There it was, that attitude again. I was torn between wanting to put him back in his place and being relieved it was still there.
“Shh,” I told him instead of reacting, touching the middle of his back, just beneath where the harness crossed his skin. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” he muttered.
“Enough,” I said, drawing my hand back, up along his back before releasing him. “You aren’t going to stay down there. I’m just going to give you your enema and bath.”
“Why couldn’t you have just told me that in the first place?”
Because I wanted to see you cry.
“I told you now,” I said, relentless. “Now let’s go.”
This time, he followed me down the stairs, awkwardly fumbling his way behind me. I gave him time to catch up, letting him take it at his own pace. I led him to the tub, gesturing to the small toilet next to it.
“This is what you get when you’re good,” I told him, as soothingly as I could manage. “All right?”
“Yeah,” he said, sniffling a little.
Fuck, I wanted to see him cry, but at the same time, I didn’t want to make him cry. Not from pain he didn’t welcome, not from despair. But I wanted to see tears fill those eyes and roll down his cheeks, wanted to see him arch under my touch, wanted him to want this as much as I did.
“It’s not going to hurt this time. Okay?”
At least, I hoped it wasn’t. It wasn’t like I’d tested these things out on myself.
“Okay,” he said in a small voice. He didn’t believe me, but that was okay. He’d see soon enough, or maybe I’d find out that I’d just been lying to him when I’d said it would be all right.
“Get in here,” I told him, pulling the side open on the grooming tub. “On your side, legs drawn up. Okay?”
He nodded, climbing into the tub and casting another glance at me before he settled onto his side like I’d told him.
I prepared the enema, slicking up the nozzle with lube before I murmured, “Relax.”
He didn’t, but that was hardly unexpected.
I pressed the nozzle into his ass, making sure it was seated well inside of him before unclipping the hose. A shiver ran through me at the sight of it, at the idea of thattight hole sucking the nozzle inside. What would it feel like around my cock?
