"Put your face on the pillow and keep that bottom high in the air. Pull your knees closer to your chest and spread your legs. Your wrists go here," he said as he secured a wrist to the restraints attached to the thigh straps. He tightened the device, forcing her into a restrained, upright fetal position with her bottom and pussy fully exposed to his view.
"I like this. Very convenient," he commented, running his hand along the protruding mounds. "Perfection. Your ass is absolutely pure perfection," he admired, again lunging his finger into her tight rose bud.
"Don...."
"Silence. Misbehaving little girls don't get to speak. I should spank you some more..."
"No! Please..."
"Yes, I think I will. Let's see... oh! I brought a special toy just for this occasion," Donavon stated, snapping a wide, leather paddle against his palm. He rubbed it against her exposed mounds and upper thighs, watching as her juices began to moisten the insides of her thighs.
Faith inhaled sharply as the paddle impacted her already tender backside. He had aimed it low so that it would strike the back lips of her pussy. Instantly, she jutted her body out for more. Donavon obliged, covering her backside with the thuddy paddle strokes while occasionally fingering her swollen clit with his left hand.
"You aren't supposed to be enjoying this so much," he teased, "You are being punished for your naughtiness."
"Spank me harder then," Faith begged.
"I have other things I wish to do to this bottom," Donavon stated, freeing his cock. Slowly, his entered her wet slit, sliding inside as she clutched him. He stroked her with his shaft, his hands holding her hips still as he watched his cock bury inside of her body. He pulled out and repositioned the stiff, bulbous head to the entrance of her bottom. Gently, he pressed the moist peak against her, all the while fingering her clit.
Faith stiffened again with the intrusion, trying to will herself to relax and accept his long, hard cock as it slid past the ring of muscles and entered her body. The thickness caused her both pain and pleasure as she opened wide to receive him. Donavon gave her a moment to catch her breath before he began to move in long, slow strokes.
"You are so tight and hot," he whispered huskily, his fingers digging into her hips as he began to increase the depth and speed of his rocketing. "Why have we waited this long to do this? Oh, damn... I'm cumming!"
Faith lifted her bottom to accept the eruption of hot fluid that filled her insides. He pinched her clit slightly and she jutted her bottom against him, crying out as she was taken over by her own climax.
Donavon, his cock still buried deep in her ass, leaned across her back. "I changed my mind. Don't you dare throw that dress out."
"I wasn't planning on it," Faith giggled.
CHAPTER 6
Letter # 4
My darling,
Days are just dragging by without you here by my side. Half the squad is sick and the other half ready to kill someone. I'm both. Remind me to stay away from spicy food for now on. The trainees are great, but the hours we are keeping are ridiculous. For some stupid reason, the 'powers that be' think never sleeping is a good way to train. I disagree, of course, because that is when accidents happen. Believe me, we are having more than our share. We have had to medevac three men out of here now for injuries that could have been prevented if they were alert enough NOT to step on a snake, NOT to trip over a vine, and NOT to fall off the side of a ravine.
Can you tell me exactly when it became appropriate for grown men to whine like children when they don't feel well? Even you aren't that bad. Close, though. Plus I would rather nurse you back to health... you are much cuter, even when green around the gills.
I've enclosed a peel from a shell I found on the beach since its too damn wet to dry flowers. If you hold it up to the light, it's the same color as your bottom after a good paddling. All right, I'm obsessed with your ass, but can you blame me? It is more beautiful than a Thailand beach and a million times hotter!
Forever yours.
Don
Faith held the sliver of shell to the light, mesmerized by the swirling colors of pink, purple, coral and white. Yes, he was obsessed with her ass. It always seemed to be the focal point of every event, even when she was sick. It was funny, though, how he managed to forget how frustrated he got after having to take care of her....
* * * * *
"Are you feeling okay, baby? You're really pale," Donavon asked, immediately placing his hand on Faith's forehead.
"I'm fine. Mom and I went out for lunch today and I think I ate something that didn't agree with me."
"Do you want me to call your mom?"
"No way. She will nag me back to health. I love her, but she is not the best bedside nurse." Faith forced a smile.
"Let's get you to bed. You look like you are going to heave," Donavon said gently, pulling off his cammie jacket and tossing it on the couch. He lifted Faith in his strong arms. "Up you go."
"You don't have to carry me, hon," Faith said, trying to ignore the intense cramping in her stomach.
"Baby girl, I've had my share of food poisoning and if there was someone who could have carried me, I would have allowed it. I have a friend of mine who is a corpsman. You met him a while back, remember? We call him Doc. I'll see if he can recommend something for you."
Faith stayed quiet as he stripped her of her jeans and sweater and pulled a flannel nightgown over her head. She bit her lip, knowing how much he hated the thing except for non-sexual sleeping moments. He only had her wear it when she had been punished and sent to bed early, or when she was sick. He was planning on treating this little inconvenience as something serious. Damn!
"Can I watch TV?" Faith asked as he tucked the blankets around her. She already knew the answer.
"No. You are to stay in bed and sleep. If you need me, I am right out here. Ring this bell," he handed her the small 'chow' bell that he had bought specifically for the purpose of being summoned.
"But, Donavon..."
"Faith Fuller, I will say this one time and one time only, " he began on his infamous tirade of rule making, "if you are ill, you will be taken care of. That means sleeping, following instructions and no arguing."
"But TV doesn't take any energy..."
"Did you hear what I said, Faith? If you feel well enough to argue, then you are well enough to get your bottom blistered. I'm going to get you some ginger ale and then call Doc. I love you."
"Yeah, love you too." Faith pouted, quickly faking a smile when the warning finger wagged in her face as he exited the room.
Despite her stubborn determination to not let the painful cramping in her stomach get to her, Faith found her ability to ignore the discomfort waning and she stumbled to the bathroom to hug the toilet.
Donavon returned several minutes later and knelt beside her, pulling her hair from her face.
"Oh baby, I'm sorry. Here, sip the ginger ale. Nothing is worse than dry heaves."
"Go away," Faith groaned, resting her forehead on the rim of the toilet.
"I'm not going anywhere," Donavon said firmly, resting a cool washcloth across her forehead. "I'm going to take care of you."
"I don't want you to see me like this. It's gross," Faith panted, feeling another wave of nausea spinning her gut.
"I love you, gross and all," Donavon said sweetly, holding her hair as she vomited violently. "And I don't have a squeamish stomach, so don't worry."
"I wish you did. Then you would leave me alone," Faith muttered, plastering the cool towel against her clammy face.
"Doc's coming over and will bring some stuff from his stash to help. He is just around the corner and will be here in a few minutes. Don't worry," he caught the panicked expression on her face, "I won't have him come in to see you."
"Thanks. Oh... kill me now..." she begged, once again retching.
"This will pass. Drink. I'll be right back."
Faith strained to hear the words being passed between her husband and the corpsman, but the front do
or was too far from their room and the sound of her own labored breathing interfered. She curled up next to the commode, her face on the cold floor and waited for Donavon's return.
"Let's get you back in bed, baby," he said, gently wiping the sweat from her face and neck. "Doc brought some meds to help with the nausea."
"Oh good. It won't stop and there is nothing left inside of me," Faith muttered, allowing him to carry her back to bed and tuck her in. Faith closed her eyes as he sat on the edge and opened the paper bag, placing things on the nightstand.
First, a thermometer and a tube of KY jelly. Donavon chuckled, noticing it was an old-fashioned rectal type. Second, a Compazine suppository. Oh yeah, Doc did raid his stash for that! Third, a bottle of Slippery Elm tincture and fourth, a red enema bag with a hose and a large syringe.
"What are my rules about cooperation, darling?" Donavon asked as he shook down the thermometer.
"If I'm well enough to argue, I'm well enough to be spanked. Did he bring anything for this horrid nausea?"
"Yes, but first he advised me to check your temperature and make sure it isn't viral. If you have a significant temperature, we need to go to the hospital."
"I'm not feverish. I'm freezing and clammy..."
"Roll over onto your tummy, Faith."
"Why?" Her face paled even more, "Oh no you don't..."
"Oh yes I do. Seriously, Faith, this is nothing compared to my cock in you. Be a good girl."
Faith whimpered as she obeyed, hiding her face in her arms as he gently pried her bottom apart and dabbed lube to her tightly closed sphincter.
"Relax, Faith. This doesn't hurt," he coaxed, sliding the cold, glass rod into her body. He held it in place between his index and middle fingers, his palm resting across the span of her bottom.
"It's so embarrassing," she whimpered.
Donavon glanced at the enema kit with a small smile, knowing that if she found a simple taking of a rectal temperature embarrassing, then the experience of a full out enema would be beyond her comprehension.
"I only want you to feel better. Be still, we have five more minutes."
"Since when? It's only supposed to be three minutes!"
"How would you know that, darling? Have you been doing some research on the internet about medical play, perhaps?"
"Oh Lord," Faith groaned. Busted! "You had mentioned it long ago and I looked. It wasn't something I was interested in so I didn't bring it up again."
"Nonetheless, you are correct. I just like making certain the reading is accurate. Almost done."
Those felt like the longest six minutes of Faith's life and she sighed with relief when he finally removed the instrument.
"You are running a low-grade fever at 100.1, but Doc said that it would be okay if we kept the symptoms under control and you didn't peak above 101. Where are you going?"
"Turning to my back. What's that?"
"It's a suppository for your nausea. I also have one for the fever. On your tummy."
"No! I don't want..." Faith argued, only to find her wrist being held captive in his large hand and her body being pulled across his thighs.
He yanked the nightgown above her waist and laid his huge palm across her bottom again. "Is there a need for me to redden this bottom, Missy? Stay still."
Faith covered her eyes with her hands as she felt him once again pry her bottom apart and press the foreign object to the reluctant little hole. He easily slid the suppository inside and then reached for the second one. Faith fought back tears as that one, too, found its resting place deep in her bottom.
Donavon keep her across his knees and he gently massaged her pale backside, giving the medication time to melt inside of her. The Compazine worked quickly, making her very sleepy as it removed the spinning sensation in her upper stomach and esophagus. Gently, he put her back to bed and drew the sheets up to her shoulders.
"Try to sleep." He kissed her eyelids. "I'm right here if you need me."
"Can't call. Too tired," Faith murmured as she drifted to sleep.
Donavon stroked her forehead. "You don't need to call, baby. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Except for a quick retreat to the bathroom or the kitchen, Donavon was true to his words. He was in his reading chair when Faith opened her eyes four hours later.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Terrible. My stomach feels like it's been in a boxing match," she moaned, unable to sit up.
Donavon reached for the thermometer, ignoring her protests as he shook it down. This time, he held her in his favorite spot, her belly on his thigh and her bottom in the air. He inserted the glass and held it in place as before, watching as her pink bud winked in protest.
"This hurts my tummy," Faith whined, squirming in her position. "Please let me go."
Donavon simply spread his thighs, allowing her abdomen to dangle between them as he supported her pelvis and torso on either leg. Faith mumbled something unintelligible, only her tone giving away her misery.
"I need to go to the bathroom," she suddenly announced, her body tensing as her stomach made some very loud, angry noises.
"We're almost done. There you go. No fever...."
Faith didn't hear him as she rushed to the bathroom, slammed the door closed and locked it. Donavon sighed, tapping on the frame.
"Faith?"
"Go AWAY!" she yelled, clutching her stomach as her insides exploded from inside of her.
"I left a can of ginger ale in there. Sip on it."
"GO Away!"
"When you are able, we'll take care of your tummy. Doc said Slippery Elm would help. You won't like the procedure, but should appreciate the results."
"Donovan, GO AWAY!" Faith moaned, rocking miserably as she cradled her stomach in her arms.
Her body finally stopped cramping long enough to allow her to shower, dry off and hobble into the bedroom where Donavon sat patiently on the edge of the bed. He patted his lap and pulled her into his arms to rock her.
"I know you feel terrible, baby. You need to let me help you."
"Shoving an enema up my ass is not going to help. Please, just let it run its course."
"I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you until tomorrow morning, but if you are not better, we try it my way, okay?"
"Fine. Let me sleep, please."
"I'll rub your back. There now...where are you going?"
"To a party! Where do you think?" Faith snapped, racing back into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.
The misery continued through the night and Faith was so exhausted she could barely stand.
"Donavon?"
"What honey?" the man stirred in bed next to her.
"I'm ready to try it your way. Anything to stop this cramping," she whimpered into his arm. Donavon kissed her forehead before slipping out of bed and silently preparing the solution. She looked like death warmed over when he beckoned to her from the bathroom.
"Come in here, baby. Ah, you poor thing," he said kindly as she approached him, crying as she held her stomach. "This should help make you feel better. I'll go slowly."
"It's so humiliating," she stammered, allowing him to place her across his knees. He spread his thighs to remove the pressure from her stomach as he filled the large syringe with the fluid.
"I'm going to inject the slippery elm into you instead of using the hose. This way we can go at a rate that makes you comfortable," he said softly, rubbing a dollop of lube to her bottom hole.
"Be careful..." Faith requested nervously as he inserted the long, thick tip of the syringe into her and pressed slowly upon the plunger. She felt the warm liquid fill her bowels but no discomfort.
"Are you okay?" Donavon asked, removing the device and refilling it.
"Yeah, it doesn't hurt. Its just so..."
"Embarrassing. I'm your husband, sweetheart. We have no secrets between us, remember? Here's another dose."
One by one, he methodically injected the warm solution into her body, surpris
ed that she did not stop him until the bowl was nearly empty. By then again, she had nothing left inside of her either.
"How does that feel?" he asked, rubbing her back.
"I'm real bloated but not crampy. Fuck, I spoke to soon! Toilet!" she demanded, hopping off his lap. "Get out!"
"Nope, I'm staying. Oh, don't give me that look," Donavon scoffed. He crossed his arms and waited until Faith finally gave up her struggle and released the fluid from her body.
"Will it ever stop?" she groaned, rocking herself. "What are you doing?"
"Doc said to give you three of these. Are you done?"
"Oh Lord. No more, Don..."
"Enough with your arguing, young lady. This is going to help you and I am not going to give into your begging this time. Get over my lap."
"Donavon..."
"Stop the whining. Do you want a spanking too?"
It was five in the morning when Faith finally was able to rest quietly in Donavon's arms, her cramping nothing more than a tender ache. He had completed the series of the enemas, bathed her lovingly, and wrapped her up warmly. He yawned and kissed her temple, pulling her close to his warm chest.
"I love you," he said in her hair.
"I know you do. I love you too."
CHAPTER 7
Letter #5
My darling Faith,
The sun is shining! I don't know how long it will last, but I plan to enjoy it every moment I can. It's amazing how a little bit of decent weather can improve bad attitudes. I am just so tired of moving at a snail's pace down these beachheads. I never thought I would miss getting into a car and just zooming over the highway. It made me think of your speeding ticket. Did you make it to traffic school? I seriously don't want to revisit that transgression again. There are a lot of bamboo poles around here though, so maybe I should think about bringing one home with me... just in case? I've enclosed a dried bamboo leaf in remembrance of that caning and as a reminder to be safe with your life.
The Captain told us that we are supposed to go into the jungle in a few weeks for what he calls 'blind training.' Not looking forward to that at all. I prefer to stay close to the ocean, but hell, it could be worse, right? We could be doing maneuvers in Saudi! I shudder at the thought, I'll have you know. Anyway, it's supposed to help us work on natural navigation techniques... you know, using the stars (if the damn clouds don't cover them), moss, sun, wind.... all that crap to lead us to base. We aren't taking the trainees, Thank God. Enough of us whine as it is!
Eight Little Letters (I Love You) Page 6