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STANDARD DISCLAIMER
===================
The following piece of fiction is intended as ADULT entertainment and
has only been posted to an appropriate group on the Internet. If it is
found in any other place, it is not the responsibility of the author.
If you are not an ADULT of legal age, you should avoid this text and
find something more appropriate to read
All characters in this story are fictitious, and any similarity to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this
story, some of which are dangerous and/or illegal. Do not, under any
circumstances, try this at home.
CainePaine
CainePaine@gmail.com
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"hole Control" - part 3
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The rich, scarlet wine flows sinuously through the clear tube, winding its way downward like a crimson serpent intent on its prey. Quickly honing in on its helpless target, it strikes, coursing directly into hole's tight anus unobstructed, guided by the inserted tube's unswerving path. The cunning fluid seeps slowly, obdurately into her bowels, filling her up.
"Mmmhhh...", hole moans suddenly, reacting to the slightly chilled fluid creeping its way into her.
Inspiration for the enema came to Me yesterday from a few of hole's private diary entries. It seems that between the ages of 19 and 20 my little debutante dated 'Jack', an interesting fellow whom she planned to marry. The relationship was not meant to be, however, and 'Jack' became abusive toward the end.
It seems that he made a valiant effort in the last few days to convince hole that anal sex would be a mutually satisfying collaboration. hole wanted none of it. In her words, "... it's disgusting, and I finally told him never in a million years. I mean, come on, I'm not some street walker looking for a fix."
Later entries reveal two subsequent boyfriends were also flatly denied any sort of anal dalliance. Obviously, hole never planned to engage in "such filthiness".
So, here we are in my recreation chamber, and it's enema time for the prissy beauty queen.
Here's to you, Jack.
The source of the ambrosial fluid is a black, rubber enema bag hanging bloated in the air above her. The optimal height insures that the flow will continue at a steady pace, but not so rapidly as to cause instant cramping. And, the clearness of the tube allows Me to see the fluid's crimson descent into my bound slave's ass.
The liquid concoction is my own special mixture: parts fine merlot, liquid caffeine, powdered, generic Viagra, and simple spring water. My intent is to reduce hole's inhibitions, to pump up her system with the caffeine so she's fully engaged, and finally, to see how true the rumors are regarding the pharmaceutical aphrodisiac's potential on the weaker sex.
I measured the portions carefully, because too much of any one drug, and not enough water, is potentially fatal. And I certainly don't want any harm to befall my slave, unless by design.
That's also why she's currently immobilized, horizontal, and receiving her enema on my expertly crafted bondage bench. She's lying flat on her stomach, arms stretched out together along the top of the bench above her hooded head. The area from her breastbone to her belly button is resting on a thickly padded, but narrow, five-inch wide metal beam, with her plump tits hanging down exposed on either side.
Her young, fresh thighs straddle, like a wanton cowgirl, a larger section of the bench further down, her hip bones resting flush against it. There, however, the padded bench terminates in a cut-out crescent shape, and the last inch of her pubic region hangs in empty space, nothing to block access to her baby-smooth crotch.
Oh yes, I failed to mention I waxed her completely about an hour ago. Still black-hooded and sightless, as she is now, she was led, crawling into my elegant toy room where I had a bubbling pot of wax waiting for her.
I guided my blinded bunny up to sit in my professional-grade gynecological exam chair, complete with stirrups and straps, after fitting her hands into thick, leather suspension cuffs. Once her arms were drawn up and fixed above her head, knees spread wide and restrained, and the rest of her torso strapped down, I applied the hot wax to her armpits, crotch, and legs using long, fibrous, papery strips.
I then took immense delight in removing the swathes of wax, varying my approach with each satisfying extraction. Sometimes I ripped the strips violently away from her skin in a single motion. Other times I slowly, painstakingly peeled them off, and basked in the sun of her heightened vocal distress.
I saved her small patch of pubic hair for last, and scolded her for not maintaining herself better.
"Look at this hairy cunt! I swear, you beast, were you raised in a barn? If I ever see hairs on this pussy again, I'm going to have you remove each one of them with electrified tweezers while I whip you."
The way she bucked as my fingers progressively teased the final strips away, tearing out the dark, curly pubic hairs, I thought she would dislocate an arm.
It was an extra chore afterwards to remove the excess bits of wax with a special lotion, but the finished result was well worth the effort. Shiny, smooth, bare skin lovingly greeted my fingertips as I ran them lightly over my slave-doll's legs and pussy lips.
Touching hole intimately for the very first time left Me invigorated and rock-hard. "This is it," I thought to myself. "So much detailed planning and patience, and finally, a small taste of my prize."
While one hand continued to nimbly roam hole's denuded body, I reached into the open flap of my lounge pants and drew out my throbbing member, trying to relieve some of the building pressure. A glistening drop of pre-cum had boiled its way up to the surface of my cockhead, and it lingered there in quivering anticipation of events to come.
Before discarding my original plans, however, and violating her right there on the spot, I released hole's chair bindings, and escorted her along to the next device, where she lies now. Laid out like a delicious buffet on my unshakable bench, and still receiving her specially tailored enema.
Holding her firmly in place now on top of the sparkling, cherry red, padded vinyl are the same suspension cuffs around her wrists, with new ones encircling her ankles. Both pair are extended to their limits and locked down to thick eyebolts lining the heavy contraption. Her arms and legs are stretched, allowing only tiny movements.
I walk around her form, and lean down, my face inches away from her shrouded head. "Tell Me, hole. What's my slavegirl thinking right now?"
She remains quiet for so long I wonder if she has unexpectedly succumbed to exhaustion. But, finally she says, "this hole is scared, Master. And I... this hole... misses her family."
Such a cute, feminine, vulnerable voice. And, I adore the way my trussed pet looks, still blinded by her locked, leather hood, and straddling my horse-like contraption. Her full tits hang down invitingly, begging for my urgent attention.
"Well, I want you to keep being a good girl for Me. I would hate for anything dreadful to happen to those dear family members you miss so much." I allow the clear threat to linger ominously, providing no further details as I proceed with my merry tasks.
I wrap a wide leather panel securely over the small of her back to hold her midsection motionlessly down to the puffed vinyl. The cured strap buckles tightly to the underside of the bench's frame, inaccessible to her.
Suddenly, as I finish buckling the metal clasp, hole begins to react, no longer lying there calmly quiescent. She mewls pitifully, and her limbs start to tug repeatedly at her bonds.
The enema is having an effect on her at last. It's much too early for the drugs to be absorbed by her intestines, but the sizable amount of liquid already occupying her colon seems to be a deliciously escalating affliction.
"How does it feel, hole?" I ask, curious and grinning.
"it hurts, nnghhh... what are you doing, Master?" Her plaintive tone makes it clear she wants whatever it is to cease immediately.
She definitely wasn't thrilled earlier either, at the enema nozzle's insertion up her socially forbidden rectum. But, I was able to calm her down enough to gently ease its lubricated end into her reluctant asshole. All my bound angel needed was a few reassuring words from her Master to relax those nerve-sensitive muscles.
But, now she has to go and speak out of turn.
"Quiet, cunt! I know you're bordering on the level of retard, but you do not ask questions without permission. Now, what hurts?"
hole draws a breath through closed teeth, her blinded head turned toward Me. "My stomach, and down there... I need... this hole needs to use the bathroom, Master... uhwnngg."
"Oohhh you almost got it, hole, but you said one of the forbidden words. It's 'this hole's stomach', not 'my stomach'. Tsk, tsk. What am I going to do with you? Since my instructions are not being processed by that flawed, tiny brain, I'm going to have to resort to other measures to help you be a good girl."
Her lips compress anxiously, but she remains silent, probably worried she'll make things worse by responding.
As she squirms, I step away to grab a thin, rattan cane with a carved, porcelain handle from the wall. Not bothering with a practice swing, I return and stand away from her at the proper distance, lining up the cane with its clear, exposed target.
Without warning, and with potent force, I arc the cane sideways through the air. It lands with a powerful crack across her lifted asscheeks, causing her to shriek terrifically in pain. Her cheeks clench together tightly, and she jerks her pelvis down. She frantically humps the bench between her legs, clearly trying to escape the brutal, stinging device.
As I watch, wide-eyed, enjoying her painful writhing, a new thought arises. Not only will the drugged enema keep flowing into my little toy's ass until the bag is empty, but she will suffer every time her crammed abdomen pushes down against the bench. So, she can either try to stay still while she is being caned, or she will intensify her own intestinal agony.
The warm realization spurs Me on to deliver four more rapid-fire strokes to her taut, resilient asscheeks. I aim directly at the original target, at the same reddening stripe of skin, scoring a precise hit every time.
The ability to do this is a testament to my stalwart bench. If not so rigidly bound to its contoured dimensions, hole's ass would be jumping around like crazy, and it would be exceedingly difficult to keep hitting the same sweet spot over and over.
hole wails like a banshee as I cane her, fighting to catch her breath between piercing squeals. She squirms violently, like a four-legged insect pinned to a dissection board. I willingly play the part of the mad scientist, probing her with my specialized instrument to elicit interesting, novel reactions.
I decide the rest of my subject's perfectly formed ass needs some attention too, so I spread five more strokes liberally around. I savor the tight rippling of her ass muscles as the dense wood crashes down again and again. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
Listening to hole scream, I happily remember that her songs of torture will be readily available for my future listening pleasure, thanks to the room's advanced recording gear. Every piece of furniture in this chamber has a microphone attached, so no precious utterance will be missed. In addition, I have the cameras, adjustable and wall-mounted, all currently trained on this single enthralling location.
"Only five more to go, hole. Are you starting to see that you're not a person anymore? That you're an object? That you're going to spend the rest of your limited life as a possession, controlled by Me or whoever you're sold to? And, if you don't grow a brain soon, you'll find yourself longing for the patient tolerance I'm showing you right now."
Whack!
More screaming, but between sobs she says, "Yes, Master, please don't. Please just let me go, I won't tell anyone about you... I will..."
Whack!
"Quiet, hole! 'I' this... 'I' that... Obviously, I have a lot of work ahead of Me. And, you must really love your cage, because that's exactly where you're going back to once I'm done with you, cunt. Apparently, you need some more 'alone time' to consider a slave's proper vocabulary."
Whack!
"Aahhhnggh," she roars vociferously, followed by shuddering inhalations of breath. "Master, please... don't put this hole back in there... let this hole have sex with you... this hole will do anything you want... please just let m... this hole go..."
Whack!
I wait for another scream to dissipate, and then go on. "hole, you have absolutely nothing I want. You're not even trained to please an Owner yet. And, it might be different if you were the least bit attractive, but we've already discussed that. There is nothing to be done about your plain, farmgirl's face. Although... you will start your exercise regime soon, and maybe your body won't look so horribly dumpy after a few months of hard work."
Privately, I adore her physical attributes, already sublime the way they are. Her flawless skin is only now marked by my desecration with the cane.
"Master, this,"...
Whack!!!!! I saved the best for last. A beautiful, glorious scream peals from her throat.
Wanting to leave her with a tangible reminder to dwell on for the next few days, I reared back on the final swing and landed a vicious blow to her right cheek. The profound bruise that will surely blossom there on her fair skin will be satisfying to behold.
Ever the consummate gentleman, I patiently wait for her to gather herself, and to complete her last thought she began. But, she seems more interested in repetitive wailing at the moment.
I reach out with my free hand to feel the results of my cane-manship. Her angrily striped skin is hot to the touch, and she jumps with a cry as I begin to softly caress the raised weals on her stricken backside.
"There, there... it's ok, my pet. That's right, it's all over now. Yes. You have so much potential to be a good girl. All you have to do is listen to Master and obey." My voice drips with slippery condescension as I glide my hand lightly over her seething skin.
"Yes, Master... please stop hurting this hole... this hole will listen." A loud, tearful sniff comes from within her hood, followed by more dejected crying.
"I know you will, and your Master will be here to help you with every step. But, you're going to have to prove your value to Me. You seem rather slow and dimwitted, hole, and you obviously don't catch on to concepts very quickly. Combine that with your decidedly unappealing looks, and I should really sell you now for whatever paltry sum I'm able to collect."
With the caning now finished, her fidgeting grows more and more pronounced, even under my gentle petting.
Ah yes, the enema...
Tenacious in discharging its duty, the fluid continues its liquid trajectory unerringly into my slave. I squeeze the hanging bag and see that there is about a fifth of the contents left.
As the minutes pass, I listen to her struggle.
"Nnggnngghh... mmmhh... awwnnngg," she wordlessly, tensely complains. I think her bowels must be a terrible distraction to her if she has already stopped blubbering in response to my canework. Not that she has stopped crying by a long shot, but it's clear by her actions that the enema now has her absolute focus.
Realizing I have a bit more time before it drains completely into my bound girltoy, I leisurely stroll to the wall and replace the cane on its designated hook.
Just adjacent to my hanging array of percussive devices is a heavy, oak chest of drawers, richly stained with carved handles. Pulling out the second drawer, I select a medium-sized, rubber buttplug from the assortment of anal toys there, and return to my ongoing experiment.
I take a seat on the edge of my rich, leather, executive office chair right next to the bondage bench.
"So, hole... earlier you offered to fuck Me... you know, that's really a riot. Of all the beautiful, trained slaves I could have, why would I possibly want to fuck a cow like you? I mean, even if I turned out the lights so I wouldn't have to look at you, would you even know what to do with a cock?" I chuckle derisively at the thought.
"nnddaaah... please, this hole will do anything you want, Master... mmgghh.... please make it stop, it hurts." Her bare feet flutter maniacally to the beat of her suffering.
"Ok, let Me try again. It's a simple question, so see if you can follow this time. Do you have any idea what to do with a real man's dick?" I lazily tap my fingers on the enema tube, enjoying the dialogue.
"Yes, Master, this hole... aaahhnggmmh... this hole can make you feel good, Master. Please, let this hole try to please you."
"Ohhhhh, I see. I had no idea I had such a filthy slut on my hands. So, my little hole is a cock expert, huh? Good, if things don't work out here, you can put those skills to use down in Chihuatal. The brothel there in Mexico is one I sometimes do business with, and they're always looking for fresh meat. Who knows, if you're talented enough at servicing their abundant clientele, you might be able to avoid starring in their hourly dog and pony shows. Although, they are quite popular, especially when the actress is an American girl like yourself."
As I verbally jab at her, I see the top of the enema tube turn clear once again. The once-swollen bag hangs limply in the air as the remainder of my scarlet mixture finally finds its dark, new home.
"I'm thinking five more days in your cage should be sufficient time to think, hole," I tell her. "But, how about this? I'm about to remove the nozzle from your ass, and if you clamp down and hold everything in like a really good girl, without spilling a single drop, I might be lenient and let you out a little early. Do you think a dullard like you can handle that?"
Her hands are squeezed into tight fists, and her lips are in constant, agitated motion. "yes, Master," she strains.
I step up, and holding the rounded tip of the buttplug ready at the edge of her sphincter, I ease the plastic enema nodule slowly out of her. I notice she's unusually quiet for the moment, but I silently praise her for concentrating on my instructions.
She does exceptionally well, because no hint of fluid escapes before I am able to insert the end of the plug into her puckered orifice.
"Aaaiiiee! Master, please stop... please, no!"
"Try to relax, cunt. This plug is going in one way or another, so stop fighting it." I push gradually inward, allowing it to slide back out a tiny bit before shoving it in even further. The widest section elicits the strongest complaints, but the rubber bulge finally pops all the way in. She releases a pent-up whoosh of air along with a sickly groan.
"See you soon, slut," I announce. "And if the plug comes out of that ass before I return, there will be hell to pay." I slap a rosy asscheek with my open palm before departing. It's time to let the drugs work their magic, so I leave her alone for a planned twenty minutes, setting my watch's alarm on the way out.
Soon, my hungry, neglected cock will be balls-deep inside my captive fucktoy, and I have a few more preparations to make. This will be the first of countless fuck-sessions with my little bitch, and I want the experience to be legendary.
End of part 3
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I welcome remarks about my stories, either appreciative or critical. All comments received, now and in the future, inspire me to continue to write.
Truly yours,
CainePaine
CainePaine@gmail.com
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