Pussy Girl

September 19, 2007 – 10:00 am

He hasn’t yet told me what to expect. All he said just now when he called
was that he was tired of me asking for more and that we’d just have to see
how much I really wanted… or could take.

His instructions were to prepare a warm two quart enema, hang the bag on
the back of the door and remain on my knees in the bathroom with the door
open, ass high facing the door and shoulders to the ground until he
arrived.

With butterflies in my stomach, I hung up the phone, went and grabbed the
enema bag and ran to take a quick shower, figuring I could fill the bag and
clean myself quickly at the same time. As I turned the shower off – I could
hear the key turning at the front door. Realizing I had only moments, I
quickly stepped out of the shower, hung the bag on the door and assumed the
instructed position. Water dripping all over the throw rug, and heart
pounding as I heard his footsteps approach….I shuddered and took a deep
breath as I realized my error — He did not tell me to take a shower! I
know that he is there in the bathroom doorway now, yet he is silent. When,
oh when, will I learn not to make assumptions and do only and exactly what
he has requested?

As I try to calm myself and slow my breathing, I sense him moving some
behind me. It sounds as if he is rummaging for something in a bag… then
silence again. Before I can think about it any and become more
apprehensive, he strikes me once and very hard so that I jump in surprise
and hit my head against the bottom of the toilet. As I realize that he used
that big paddle which both fascinates and scares me, he speaks for the
first time, “You know what that was for, do you not, my sweet little pussy
girl?” I nod my head once and replied that it was because I had taken a
shower and he had not told me to do so. Just as he says, “Very good”, he
hits me again and says, “And that?”. I try to think quickly, then reply
that that one was because I jumped at the first strike. You see… I have
been instructed to make no sound nor move whilst being whipped, spanked,
etc.

He then pats me gently on my ass as he enters the bathroom and moves the
enema bag to hang it on the shower curtain rod. He then puts the toilet
seat down and sits there, with his bag at his feet, instructing me to turn
completely around so that my ass is facing him and warns me to keep it very
high in the air with my shoulders touching the floor.

As I feel the nozzle being inserted, he softly asks, “Whose ass is this?”
And as I reply, “Yours, whenever you want it, sir”, I feel the rush of
still warm water begin to fill me. Apparently he has other things in mind
and wants me to be filled quickly, as I can sense that the flow of water is
not being tapered this time. He then tells me to move forward approximately
six inches and as I move, I feel the first stinging bite of the riding
crop, right above my buttocks, where it’s so sensitive. This time, I do not
cringe, nor jump, but I’m beginning to feel the first cramps from the
enema. He senses this and tells me to relax …and strikes me again, while
saying, “Sonya, you will not clench when I strike you, nor will you expel
any of that water until I tell you to do so.” I nod my head in acceptance,
while wondering to myself how I am going to get through this. Right as I
think this, he says, “Don’t worry, pretty little slut girl…only 20
strokes for now, or until the bag is empty.” “Ah”, I think to myself, “20
strokes is not so bad.”

As I try to relax more because my stomach is cramping again, it becomes
apparent that I have made another assumption. The next strike of the crop
is much more powerful than the first one was, and the next after that even
more so. I begin to try and distance myself from the pain, while also
trying not to clench from the blows and the cramping. Just when I think my
stomach is going to explode because it feels so full, he reaches the 20th
stroke and I feel one of the large butt plugs enter me, sealing me so that
I cannot expel any of that which now fills me.

He then tells me to turn over, closing the bathroom door behind me and
pushing me back to lean against it. He sits back down on the toilet and
tells me to look up at him and asks, “Do you still want more, little slut
girl?” I look back into those dark, piercing eyes and nod my head once
again. Thankfully, he seems to understand how overwhelmed I am and my
inability to speak just then. “Very well,” he says, “10 more strokes to
this side, then I will leave you to hold what you have inside. I will leave
my watch here and after 5 minutes pass from the time I walk out the door,
you will then expel, take a quick shower to clean yourself, then come to me
in the living room and ask for more….Is that understood?”

I am calculating the timing in my head, realizing that it’s already been 5
minutes since the bag emptied, will probably take another few minutes for
the next 10 strokes, then add another 5 for simply waiting. As I wonder if
I can hold it inside this long, I look back meekly, with my eyes lowered
and simply reply, “Yes, sir”.  “Good girl”, he says. He then tells me to
scoot down so that only my shoulders are touching the door and to spread my
legs…WIDE. As he speaks,  I see him reach for the heavy leather flogger.
Before my eyes can widen in surprise, he has grasped the handle and dealt a
stinging blow across my left breast, then another of the same to the right.
He stops for a moment, bends over and barely touches my pussy with one
finger. “You’re cunt is absolutely dripping wet, did you know that, my
sweet pussy girl?” Without waiting for a reply, he then strikes me there,
right between my spread legs….it was so totally unexpected that I can’t
help but jump from the sudden stinging pain. “Oh no, little slut…you know
that is not allowed. I will punish you more later for that, and any more
movement or sound will result later in 20 more blows for each time you move
or make a sound.” He then proceeds with the remainder of the 10 strokes to
my front side, alternating between my breasts and stomach, with the 10th
blow once more to my so tender pussy and I cannot help the moan of pain
that escapes my lips on this last blow.

As he gets up to leave to make things ready in the living room for after I
am cleansed, he turns to me and says, “You have done moderately well thus
far, my little cunt. During this five minutes while you’re alone, think
hard about whether you want to continue and keep in mind while you are
contemplating, that you already have an additional 60 blows coming, with
any implement I choose for the 3 times you have already disobeyed me…and
these are on top of what I already had planned for you. This you will think
of and when you come out into the living room, you will let me know whether
you still want “more”, then closes the door behind him. As I take a deep
breath, the door opened a bit and he whispered, “Oh, and Sonya? Remember
that I love you and that your pain is my pleasure,” then softly closed the
door again.