Suddenly Imogen doubled up in pain, dropping back down onto the seat and clutching her tummy, the soapy water stinging her insides. She looked up at Uncle Mark, her face pale as she clenched her buttocks together tightly. He had never been present when her daddy had put her on the potty and she had released an enema, and she vowed that was not about to change. She squeezed her butt cheeks together, fearful that the soapy water would soon come out of its own free will, and she gritted her teeth, sweat building on her brow due to her exertions and the strain of holding onto the irritating liquid.
“Immy, be a good girl,” urged Uncle Mark, brushing her hair away from her face with one hand and squeezing her hand gently with his other. “Use the potty and make your daddy proud,” he added, stroking her cheek tenderly.
Imogen shook her head stubbornly, her quivering buns clamped firmly together. “I can’t,” she whimpered. “I just can’t.”
Her battle of wills lasted for a couple more minutes, as Uncle Mark tried to persuade her to let go of her enema, but all too soon her daddy returned, and she screwed up her face in distress.
Her daddy looked at Uncle Mark, who shook his head regretfully.
“It’s as I feared,” sighed her daddy with dismay as he pulled her up from the seat and looked into the potty. “My poor little Immy,” he said, guiding her towards the sofa. Imogen frowned, wondering if her daddy had gone insane. He should be scolding me for not using the potty, she thought, thoroughly confused, not sympathising with me.
Wondering what on earth was going on, she put up no resistance when he guided her across his lap and patted her bottom gently. His arm clamped firmly across her waist and she felt gentle pressure applied between her tightly clenched buns as she desperately tried to keep the soapy solution inside her. She was relieved he hadn’t put too much in her, but it was still a struggle to prevent an accident.
“Immy, try and relax, sweetheart,” he encouraged, “let Daddy in.”
Pacified by his calm manner, Imogen relaxed her cheeks as much as she dared to, still fearful she might have an accident. She felt something hard slide between her cheeks, and she guessed he was plugging her until her small enema worked. At least this would help her to hold it in, she thought with relief, her eyes widening as a much larger plug than she was used to slowly worked its way into her now stinging bottom hole.
“Daddy!” she wailed in distress, trying to push up. “It hurts!” she yelled, panicking as it stretched her bottom hole well past the point of mild discomfort.
“I know, sweetheart, but Daddy’s going to help you,” he said calmly, patting her bottom once the plug was finally firmly seated in her behind. He tightened his grip on her and patted her bottom once more. “Poor little girl. No wonder it hurts if you can’t use the potty properly,” he soothed.
Imogen’s eyes widened and she realised too late that she had been tricked. The “plug” in her bottom was actually an enema nozzle, she realised with horror.
“What my poor little girl needs is a great big soapsuds enema to empty her poor little blocked up tummy,” he pronounced. “Mark, would you like to open the valve, please,” he said, tightening his grip as Imogen kicked her legs and howled in distress.
Chapter Four
After she realised her shouting and kicking was fruitless, Imogen lay still across her daddy’s lap. As soon as her struggling ceased, she heard a faint click and tried once more to push up, whimpering as the warm soapy liquid flowed into her upturned bottom.
“My poor little Immy,” her daddy soothed, holding her firmly across his lap and pressing his fingers against the nozzle in her bottom, making her wince as it seemed to probe even deeper into her. “That little enema wasn’t big enough to give you the thorough clean out you desperately need, but this certainly will be,” he said, his voice a little harsher now.
“You have been such a bad girl already today, yet still you can’t behave,” he scolded, lifting his hand from her bottom and giving her a sharp smack. Imogen yelped and squirmed across his lap, gasping as the water sloshed around inside her and she had a strong urge to use her potty.
“Daddy, potty, please!” she wailed in growing distress. “Please, Daddy,” she begged, kicking her little legs hard.
Her daddy didn’t say a word and Imogen yelled as his hand landed hard on her bottom, right over the nozzle.
“Owwweeeeee!” she yelled. “Oh my God, no more, please, Daddy!” she protested. “Daddy, I’m cramping,” she whined seconds later, kicking her little legs in desperation.
“Calm down, Immy,” her daddy snapped, smacking her bottom sharply. “Uncle Mark’s stopped the flow for a minute,” he told her, releasing his grip on her and helping her to her feet.
She stood in front of her daddy, her eyes filled with tears, her tummy churning. “Daddy, please, can I go potty?” she begged, looking towards the commode and bending forward slightly. She was beyond caring whether Uncle Mark was present or not, such was her desperation to expel the hot soapy liquid.
“Not yet,” her daddy said sternly, putting a hand on her tummy and rubbing gently until the cramping had passed.
Breathing deeply, Imogen relaxed and stood up straight.
“Kneel down,” he said, pointing to the floor in front of him, and a grim faced Imogen lowered herself to the floor, resting on her knees and looking up at him.
“Down on all fours,” he added, pressing a hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her forward until her upper body was against the carpet, her hands flat on the floor on either side of her. She glanced across to her right hand and saw her blanket, which she immediately gripped tightly.
The water started to flood into her bowels once more and Imogen reared up and opened her mouth to shout out, her cries muffled when a pacifier was stuffed into it. Her daddy pushed her back down towards the floor and held her there, Imogen squirming and grunting, biting against the pacifier as the water flooded quickly into her bowels, making her tender tummy swell.
Imogen’s mind was in turmoil as her bloated tummy started to cramp once more. She wiggled her bottom from side to side, trying to convey her distress to her daddy and Uncle Mark, but when the water continued to flow into her, she spat out her pacifier and yelled “No more!” The water flow stopped immediately, and Imogen winced when a hand reached under her and gently caressed her swollen tummy.
“You can have a break, Immy,” her daddy whispered in her ear, “before you get the rest of your enema.”
“Daddy, I can’t take any more,” she sobbed, tears dripping from her cheeks onto the carpet. “Please, Daddy, have mercy.”
“You’re getting more mercy than you deserve, little girl,” he scolded, slapping her bottom sharply.
“Ouch, Daddy, no!” she yelped, gasping and gritting her teeth as the soapy solution sloshed around inside her full tummy.
“Come here,” he said, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. “Let me look at you,” he said, smiling as he looked down at her tummy and rubbed it gently.
Imogen’s eyes widened in horror when she saw how swollen her stomach was and she pressed a hand against it, amazed at how much water she must be holding. She couldn’t imagine they would get another drop inside her and cringed as she recalled her daddy saying there was more to come.
“Oh, Immy, look what you’re doing to your daddy,” he said, taking her hand and brushing it against his crotch.
Imogen gasped when she felt the hard bulge in his pants. She couldn’t believe he was turned on by this. Her daddy immediately grasped her hand, guided her quickly to the sofa, and sat down, unzipping his fly and releasing his hard cock.
“Oh you bad girl,” he scolded, but the real anger in his voice had gone. Looking at his erect prick, Imogen knelt down in front of him and shuffled closer. Smiling, she kissed the head of his cock and twirled her tongue around it, licking it as she would a huge lollipop. She smiled at the vision in her mind, her smile growing as her daddy groaned in appreciation.
She gasped when
the water started to flow into her once more, but as her daddy grasped her hair and tugged it, she lowered herself over him and took his cock deep into her mouth, sucking him gently and grasping the base, moving her hand up and down quickly, moaning with pleasure as he became harder still.
She whimpered with pleasure, wishing it was her daddy’s hard cock in her bottom instead of the nozzle. She panted as he started to fuck her mouth quickly, trying desperately to control her gag reflex. She loved her daddy and she wanted nothing more than to make him happy and proud of her, and she put her all into giving him the best blow job ever, wincing only slightly as the water continued to fill her bowels and made her tummy bulge to the point where she feared she might actually burst. The soap also stung her insides, and she tried to ignore the growing urge to use the toilet.
Suddenly, her daddy grunted and thrust his hips upwards, his body stiffening as he emptied his seed into her mouth. Imogen smiled, relishing the salty liquid in her mouth, swallowing hungrily and gripping his cock in her hand, moving it briskly up and down his length, milking him dry before reluctantly taking his now flaccid member out of her mouth. She covered it with kisses before pushing up onto her feet. She realised with pleasure that the water had stopped flowing into her, but gasped as she saw her tummy was even more swollen than it had been minutes earlier.
Imogen’s face contorted in distress, and she leaned forward as a sudden cramp hit her. She whimpered as Uncle Mark gently rubbed her back and her daddy rubbed her tummy and eased the nozzle out of her bottom.
“Good girl. Go to your potty, but do not sit down until I give you permission,” her daddy told her.
She nodded, scampering across the room frantically, her buttocks tightly clenched, fearful she might lose some of the solution in her desperation to get to the potty. Looking longingly at her potty, she moved her hands behind her, gripping her bum cheeks, pushing them together and dancing from foot to foot, a look of sheer terror in her eyes. “Please Daddy!” she wailed, glancing over her shoulder towards him.
Adam nodded and Imogen immediately plonked her bottom onto the seat, crying out as the enema suddenly started to gush out of her. Leaning forward she clutched her tummy, whimpering in distress as another torrent of water flooded from her. She felt some comfort when her daddy tenderly rubbed her back and stroked her hair.
She sat on the potty for several long minutes, her cheeks flushing as she emptied her over-full bowels in front of her Uncle Mark, who watched with a smile on his face. Imogen desperately tried to avoid his gaze whenever she lifted her head, with the intention of telling her daddy she had finished, but her distress was evident when she suddenly creased up once more, realising she was not yet done. Despite her reluctance to do something in front of her Uncle Mark that would normally be done in private, she reminded herself constantly that she had no choice in the matter.
Feeling a sudden twinge of guilt at her behaviour that had led to such a thorough chastisement, she looked into her daddy’s eyes. “Daddy,” she whispered. “I agree that what I did was unforgiveable, but I really hope you can forgive me one day and love me again,” she sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion.
She sobbed with relief when her daddy gently rubbed her back. “Immy,” he whispered, “Of course I still love you. I’ll never stop loving you, you silly girl,” he sighed. “But I’m still very angry with you, and your punishment is far from over,” he told her. “I don’t want you to act so thoughtlessly ever again, so Daddy needs to be very harsh with you. This will be by far the worst punishment my little girl has ever experienced.”
Imogen nodded, thinking that it already was, but she accepted that she deserved it.
“Immy, are you embarrassed?” her daddy asked her, tenderly stroking her cheek.
Imogen nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered, horrified to be in this predicament. She would never have believed her daddy could be so harsh.
“Good,” he responded, continuing to stroke her soft skin tenderly.
Imogen gasped loudly and stared at her daddy, horrified by his answer.
“I hope you feel as embarrassed as I did when I was apprehended by the police in front of several people,” he continued, “including that annoying old woman from the end of our street. She does nothing but gossip about everyone. She’ll have a field day with this,” he said angrily, shaking his head.
“Oh no,” sighed Imogen, thinking of the old bat who delighted in spreading gossip of any kind, regardless of whether it was true or not. “I’m so sorry,” she said, grasping his hand. “I’ll go and tell her the truth right now,” she offered, tightening her grip on his hand. She felt terrible and she desperately wanted to make amends.
She was pleased when her daddy smiled and shook his head. “No, Immy, that won’t be necessary. In fact, I don’t think you’re in a position to go and see her right now, are you?” he smiled.
Imogen blushed and quickly lowered her head. “No, Daddy,” she acknowledged, blushing at the realisation that she was sitting on the potty, her bowels empty, and the potty beneath her full. And her Uncle Mark was still watching, she realised, lowering her head in shame.
“And if you tell her about all of this, you’ll only give the miserable old biddy more to gossip about,” her daddy added with a sigh. “It’ll soon blow over, and if anyone asks, I’ll tell them it was mistaken identity, especially as I’ve not been charged with anything,” he added, stroking her hand gently as a pained expression clouded her face.
Imogen nodded. “Thank you, Daddy,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry for my stupidity. I’ve learned my lesson. Truly I have.” She really hoped that her daddy would see she was sorry and end her punishment now. She didn’t think she could take anymore.
She lowered her eyes when her daddy quickly pulled her up from the potty, sat on a chair, and guided her across his lap, carefully wiping her bottom clean, despite her tearful protests. She became further distressed when he took a tight hold around her waist and reminded her that her punishment was not yet over. He then gave her bottom a very firm spanking that soon had her hollering and promising to be good.
He held her across his lap and cracked his hand down firmly on the centre of each cheek, moving quickly from one side to the other repeatedly. The sting was constant and each smack elevated the pain further, the hard smacks forcing the air from her lungs, her legs kicking frantically as she tried to plead with him to stop. Her arms flailed around, her fingers clawing at the carpet as she begged him to end her torment. With two hard smacks to the centre of her bottom, her daddy finally released her and she dropped to her knees. She immediately reached back to caress her stinging behind and rested her head against her daddy’s lap.
He allowed her to stay there for a few minutes, but she was disappointed that he offered her no comfort at all. She was very distressed and she desperately needed a hug from her daddy.
When she had calmed down and stopped her pitiful weeping, Imogen was once more helped to her feet. “Immy, I want you to go and stand in the corner and think about your behaviour that has led to such a shameful punishment. Think about what would have happened if I’d been locked up. How would you feel then?” he asked, his voice still showing hints of anger and disappointment.
She nodded, walking quickly to the corner, desperate to put some distance between herself and her daddy’s big hand. She was pleased to be able to escape her daddy’s discipline, if only for a little while. She was relieved to get a little respite from what had to be the most humiliating situation in her entire life. Sadly, she did not believe her daddy was finished with her yet. He was nothing if not thorough when punishing his naughty little girl, she thought with regret.
Her sobbing started again, until eventually he called her over to him. She took a deep breath before turning around, wiped her tearstained cheeks with the back of her hands, and headed reluctantly back towards him.
She was pleased to see the potty had gone but didn’t dare to hope that meant
her punishment was finally over.
Chapter Five
“Right, Immy, I’m going to hand you over to PC Wales now,” Adam told her, shaking his head sadly. “For the next part of your punishment, I don’t want you to think of Mark as your uncle. I want you to remember that he is a police officer carrying out his duty. He’s going to show you exactly what he has to do if he suspects someone is carrying drugs.”
“Daddy, no,” she whimpered, gripping his hands tightly. “I’ve learned my lesson, I swear,” she pleaded, dropping to her knees in front of him. “I’ll do anything,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his legs.
Imogen whimpered as her daddy took hold of her hands and pried them from his legs. “Imogen,” he snapped, “accept your punishment like a big girl. You say you’ll do anything. Well, actions speak louder than words, so prove it to me and take what you’re due,” he told her, pulling her to her feet and guiding her towards Mark.
She chewed her lip anxiously as she looked at him. “Uncle Mark, please,” she begged, her lip quivering as he shook his head and sighed.
“PC Wales,” he corrected her. “And you, young lady, are about to get first-hand knowledge of what could have happened to Adam had another officer attended who decided to follow procedures rather than act on common sense. It was obvious to anyone that Adam was not drunk, nor was he taking drugs, but some less savoury officers would have delighted in taking him to the station and doing a thorough cavity search, just to make sure he wasn’t carrying anything.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I swear I didn’t think that would happen,” she protested. “I didn’t think things through properly,” she admitted, gripping his arm and staring up into his face, desperate for him to believe her.
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