The Greatest Lie Part 7

Steam filled my nostrils and warmed my goose-bumped skin. My master helped me up over the high wall of the tub, and I plunged my foot in. "Thank you, master," I said, as the water enveloped me. "Oh master, please, it’s too hot!" Saying nothing, he grasped my shoulders and forced me into the scalding water. Involuntarily I rose up, and he scourged me with cruel blows from his riding crop, raising pink welts on my arms and back. "Water cleanses the body, obedience cleanses the soul, and pain cleanses the heart. So you must obey and suffer." My body had adjusted to the heat of the water, which was painful but not harmful. I grew drowsy as my master soaped and explored my body. My trussed hands made me helpless, and so I tried to enjoy my master’s little adventure, as he squeezed my breasts, stroked my cock and fingered my ass. All the while I murmured mock encouragement, "Oh yes my master, that feels wonderful, my master." It didn’t feel bad, and it was a lot better than a riding crop. At last he lifted my helpless, bound body from the tub, wrapped me in a robe, and ordered me to brace my arms against the sink and bend forward.

He lifted the back of my robe, parted my damp cheeks and applied some lubricant. Then he slipped the nozzle of a douche into my ass and pressed it as high as he could. I squirmed helplessly at this intrusion, but the warm rush of water into my abdomen overwhelmed and silenced me. Soon I felt pressure grow inside me, and I said "Please master, that’s enough." He growled "I’ll tell you when you’ve had enough" and poked viciously at my painfully distended stomach.

I’ve always liked the feeling of a colonic douching: the distinctly pregnant feeling made me feel vulnerable and feminine, and the squeaking clean feeling afterward made me feel deliciously fuckable. But it was taken to an extreme at this bizarre chateau. He filled me to the point of aching urgency, then sealed me with fat, painful butt plug.