by Mark Andrews
He then came round to the control board and explained to us the settings he was making: “a single litre will suffice this first time, but let us make it very hot, let’s say sixty degrees Celsius. We’ll make the flow fairly slow so she ‘enjoys’ a long build of the pain of the hot water filling her bowels, but to make it more interesting let’s add some concentrated ginger oil, some cayenne pepper and a little mustard into the mix.”
He did this and then turned back to us.
“Now, we press the start button and move around to her bottom. Note how the fluid is leaking out of her anus a little?” We nodded. “This is because the nozzle has small holes in a ring around the notched part which rests against the anus itself as well as other jets further inside. The rectum has few nerves but the anus is particularly sensitive and since we wish her to feel the pain of the peppery additives as well as the bloated feeling she will eventually have to endure as her bowels fill, this nozzle is appropriate.”
Madeleine wasn’t silent through all this, of course. She resisted James as he manhandled her down to the cellars and up on to the bath and we had to hold her there while he affixed the manacles to her extremities and then she screamed even more as the massive nozzle opened her anus even more than the doggy-tail cone did.
But then, as the fluid started to seep into her bottom and its peppery ingredients began to inflame her anus, she really let fly, her unrestrained bottom wagging back and forward and side to side and what came out of her mouth was truly disgusting.
“Just for that, slave,” I said gleefully, “you are going to suffer having your mouth brushed and washed out very thoroughly with soap and water after this is over...”
She fell silent then, glancing at me sorrowfully (the baleful looks now long gone) but she said nothing. Wisely, I thought.
We watched the little gauges that marked the temperature, flow rate and total liquid injected and as that last figure mounted, so did her so muscly belly dilate, now assuming the appearance of a bitch in litter, swelling down below her in a huge curve.
Once the full litre had been injected, James whipped the nozzle out of her anus. He did it brutally, whispering that this way, the shock would cause her to lose control and the enema would gush right out of her, burning her anus and causing her even more distress.
When she had used this room herself, she had always demanded that her victim suffer repeated ‘doses’ of the punishment and so we did just that with her, even making her get down from the tub after the fourth dose (this time slowly and carefully removing the nozzle so that she would keep the fluid inside her body) and then perform a series of knee bends.
“But you are to keep every drop of the fluid inside your filthy body, slut,” James ordered. “One drop of leakage and you will suffer ten strokes of the cane to your anus,” he added smugly, well knowing it was impossible.
And yes, she leaked and was then dragged over to the wall where were located the manacles to secure her for her anal caning.
Four of these, at shoulder height, were to secure her upper arms and wrists out sideways from her body; the other two, just below the outer ones of these, were to hold her ankles up and out, thus drawing her bottom out towards us and exposing and opening her anus for James’ attention.
He delivered the ten strokes smartly and again she screamed loud and long. I could understand why. Her anus was already tender from the enema and particularly the ginger, pepper and mustard additives as well as the heat of the water, but now, the cane was making it a hundred time worse.
I grinned as I thought of her waddling around for the next few days.
It is five years on. We still have the four of them and they are still our ponies and yes, we haven’t lightened their load one iota. Of all the slaves who keep that great house immaculate, only they suffer the rigours of our (and James’) retribution.
Will we ever relent? I doubt it. Peter Nixon and the Thomas’s will be freed when their sentences are over but we are going to keep Madeleine till the day she dies, which, given the enormous workload we make her perform will be sooner rather than later.
And in the meantime, Joel and I are very much in love and delighting in our new lives - thanks in no small measure to the ex-socialite, Madeleine Albrecht.
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