by Frost, E J
“It feels too deep,” she whimpers.
I rub her sacrum while I work the nozzle in and out, so the friction stimulates the nerves around her sphincter and helps the deep penetration feel good. She relaxes in increments until the sixth rib slips in.
“That’s it, sweetie. All in.”
Her shoulders slump. “Thank goodness.”
“Stay relaxed for me while the water goes in. It’s nice and warm.” I test the jug of distilled water I’ve got sitting in the sink with my pinky. Still a comfortable temperature. I add five tablespoons of Castile soap before I pour it into the enema bag, clamp the hose and nozzle to the bag, and hang the bag off the towel rack. Then I turn the stopcock on the hose and let the water flow.
Emily jerks at the first rush of water but settles back into position. She’s come up onto her elbows and I can’t hear any more splashing, so I break out the first of the toys I’ve brought to distract her.
“What’s Daddy playing at, little girl?” I say in mock self-disgust. Emily twists her neck to look over her shoulder at me. “How can you have bubbles without a ducky?”
A grin breaks across her face. “You brought my duckies?”
“Of course, I did.” I pull her flock of yellow rubber ducks out of one of the fifty million bags we’ve brought and hand them to her one by one, pretending to examine them for fitness to swim in the unicorn rainbow bubbles.
As she starts to play with the ducks, I notice a wet spot on the towel under her knees. I turn the stopcock to stop the water and pick up the bulb to inflate the balloon in the nozzle. I settle one hand in the small of Emily’s back to hold her still and give the bulb a couple of squeezes.
“Oh!” She twists but as soon as I growl at her, sinks back into position. “Daddy, that’s not nice.”
“It’s just to keep the enema inside. Stay relaxed and play with your duckies, sweetheart.”
“I already feel full,” she says, a hint of a whine edging into her voice.
I check the bag. Not even half-way yet.
“Little more. I want to make sure you’re nice and clean for me.”
She huffs but doesn’t protest further as I open the stopcock again.
To keep the connection between us open, I kneel beside the tub and stroke her back and hips while the water flows. Emily’s skin is pillow-soft under my fingertips. She has a spatter of faint bruises across her ass-cheeks from our frequent impact play. I pinch a few of the purplish marks just to hear her squeak.
A spray of warm water hits me in the chest. I turn my head to find the source and catch the next spray across my neck as Emily uses one of her rubber ducks to shoot a jet of water over her shoulder at me.
I smack that soft ass. “Monkey.”
“Ouch, Daddy!”
“Behave, you miscreant.” I push the edge of the towel under her knees around to mop up the water that’s dripped to the floor. “Almost done now.”
I hear her whispering to her ducky.
“What was that, little girl?”
“We hates the enema, precious,” she says in a squeaky, ducky voice.
I smack her ass again to cover my chuckle.
“New rule!” she squeaks and squirts water at me again. “No smacking of the bottom when there’s a gigantic balloon thing and fifty gallons of water inside it!”
Another smack.
“It’s a tiny balloon thing and not even eight cups of water, you monkey. And there will never be a rule that limits when Daddy can smack the bottom.” I hear a gurgle from the bag and turn the stopcock to end the flow. Unhooking the tube from the nozzle, I let the small amount of water in the tube drain into the bathtub. “There it is. All in. Ready to get in the bath?”
“No. I’m stuck,” she says.
I know that tone of voice and smile to myself. She’s deep in littlespace. I love that just my exercise of control over this very private part of her body and a few bath toys have helped her slip into her happy place. Even if she is super-pouty as I help her sit up.
She reaches back and feels the end of the nozzle and gives me her angry koala face. “There’s a tree branch sticking out of my butt, Daddy.”
I can’t contain the chuckle. “Into the bubbles, little girl.”
She crawls on hands and knees over the wide lip of the bath and into the water. I take a minute to wipe up the floor and set a timer on my phone before I follow her in. The water’s just on the right side of hot and soothes the slight strain in my back and leg from bending and kneeling while giving her the enema. There are low, bench seats in the tub; I settle onto one, facing my scowling little girl.
“How’s it feeling?”
“Like I have a food baby, only lower.”
Oh, the pouting lower lip. So cute.
“Come here, little girl.” I spread my knees on the seat and when she scoots toward me, draw her gently onto my thighs so I’m not pressing the nozzle any deeper. I rub my palm over her tummy, which feels firmer than usual and is rounded with the water filling her bowels. “Is it cramping?”
“Yes. The crampiest cramps that ever cramped.”
I grab one of her ducks and swim it over in front of her. Waggling the duck, I say in a ducky voice, “The crampiest cramps?”
“The. Crampiest.”
I refrain from making the obvious joke about the crappiest cramps because Emily’s so sensitive to the idea of mess. Instead, I wiggle the duck towards her. “So, the next time we do this, it’s lemon juice in the water for the super-crampiest cramps?”
She grabs the duck, submerges it, and uses it to shoot water over her shoulder. I avoid getting unicorn bubbles full in the face only because I still have a hair-trigger reflex about things coming at my head. I bat the duck out of her hand and attack her ribs.
“No, Daddy!” She squeals and wriggles. “I can’t hold it!”
I wouldn’t have tickled her if I wasn’t confident the balloon’s inflated enough to keep everything inside her. And if it doesn’t and there’s a little leaking—who cares? We’re in the bath. But just the idea of leaking will send her into an anxious spiral. Tickling and playing with Daddy will keep her mind off everything.
“You can’t? You can’t hold it when I tickle here?”
I go after her inner thighs, which makes her scream with laughter and twist wildly in my lap.
“What about here?” I wiggle my fingers into her armpit, which gets her flapping her arm like a duck to try to dislodge me. I’m laughing so hard I nearly push her off my lap into the middle of the bath.
“Or here?” I attack her neck.
She grabs two of the bobbing rubber ducks and batters my hands with them. “Staap-staap, staap-staap!”
“Quaack-quaack.”
“Daddy! Stop being a giant meanie!”
“Oh, I’m the giant meanie? Who just tried to spray who with duck pee?”
“Whom.” She giggles wildly.
“That’s it. You are in so much trouble, little girl.” I tickle her until the timer I’ve set on my phone dings and she’s nearly hyperventilating.
I draw her back against my chest to calm her down. Ever attuned to me, she settles immediately and tips her head back on my shoulder, still panting a little from laughing so hard. “Am I done, Daddy?”
“You are. Ask Daddy very nicely to deflate the balloon and leave you alone to do your business.”
“Daddy, please-please-ducky please will you deflate the balloon and leave me alone to do my business?”
I kiss her damp temple. “Yes, my little duck, I will. Get back in position over the edge of the bath.”
I help her up out of my lap and step out of the bath, gathering towels for both of us. While she kneels back in place, I rub her down and drape a towel over her back before wiping myself off and winding the towel around my waist.
“Are you warm enough, sweetie?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I reconnect the hose and bulb to deflate the nozzle, while holding it in place with my free hand. �
��Do you want me to take it out?”
“Please, no, Daddy.”
“Okay, little girl. Put your hand over mine and when I take mine away, hold the nozzle in place. I’ll be right outside the door. Call me if you need help. Promise?”
“Promise, Daddy.”
“That’s my good girl.”
We make the hand-swap. I grab a baby wipe on my way out of the bathroom and clean my hands just to be safe. While my little girl’s emptying out, I set up the bedroom. The bed already has a diverse selection of attachment points, so I just clip some tie downs to the four posts and set out my baby girl’s cuffs. Then I move the many stuffies off the bed, setting Peter Aloha Bunny and the inn’s teddy, who Emily has already named Professor Teddington and I can tell I’m going to have to buy because he’s coming home with us, on a chintz-covered chair. I unpack the fuzzy, blue Ravenclaw blanket I’ve brought for Emily so I can cuddle her for aftercare and set water bottles and a sports drink on the bedside table. She shouldn’t suffer an electrolyte imbalance just from one enema, but I’m not taking chances with my baby girl’s health, so I’ll have her drink the sports drink after the scene.
She finally calls for me and I find her in a spotless bathroom. I think she’s even wiped out the tub.
“Little girl, I thought you weren’t to worry about messes?”
“I just didn’t want you to have to tidy up.”
Uh-huh.
“I hate to tell you, but we’re going to have to make a little more mess. That was a soapy enema. Now you need a salty one to clean out any soap.”
She makes a face that I really need to capture. The koala, it’s so angry.
I toss two dry towels into the position I had towels in earlier and motion her down. The saline enema is quick, and I don’t make her hold it. It really is just to flush out any of the very mild, Castile soap I put in the first enema. While the saline solution’s going in, I give her lots of attention, stroking and kissing her back, rubbing my distended cock over her hip and thighs. I still get a face when I leave her to empty out, but it’s a koala I wouldn’t be afraid to cuddle instead of a koala I was sure was going to try to disembowel me.
She doesn’t call me the second time, just emerges from the bathroom pink-cheeked and bashful. “All done.”
“Okay, my baby.” I pat the bed beside where I’m sitting, scrolling through my phone. “How are you feeling? Still crampy?”
She crawls up onto the bed and kneels, facing me, in the position I’ve taught her, with her knees spread and her palms up on her thighs. “No, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Before we start this scene, I want to check in with you and talk about a couple of things. This is not Knee Time, but I’d like you to be honest with me. If there’s something you can’t tell me, just say so. I don’t anticipate you’ll need your safe words, but they always work.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Her shoulders settle an inch as my control grounds and reassures her.
“How are you feeling about the enema?”
“It was horrible.”
“It was horrible because of the possibility of mess, or it felt horrible?”
Her face twists as she considers my question. “Mostly because of the mess-factor but the cramping wasn’t nice, either.”
“Did you feel you were going to lose control when you were holding the enema in?”
“No, that part was okay.”
“Do you feel cleaned out enough not to worry if Daddy gets rough with your bottom and goes back and forth?”
She nods. “Whoosh.”
“Whoosh?” I chuckle. “Okay. Now tell me about your mind. What are you bringing with you into the scene?”
She chews on her lower lip and if she wasn’t in the Nadu position, she’d be wringing her hands. “I have a couple of worries.”
“I guessed. Tell Daddy about them.”
“I know you said not to worry about everyone having places to stay but—what if they can’t find anywhere?”
“Uh-huh.” I pick up my phone and flip to an email from Sean which I show her. “Sean and Moon found a place and say there are still two open rooms at their motel. So put that to bed. Next worry?”
“Just that things won’t go to plan this weekend and people won’t have fun.”
“People will have fun if you have fun, and Daddy’s going to make sure you have fun. Put that one to bed, too.”
“I’m a little worried that the people I haven’t met before like Luisa won’t like me.”
I stroke her soft, damp cheek. “Baby doll, you can be so charming that I can’t see Luisa or anyone else you haven’t met not liking you. But even if they do, you have lots of friends here this weekend, right? Vashi, Laurel, Austin, Cappa, Hunter, Aggie, Yumiko, Sammi, Robyn, Justine, Lucy, even DirtyGurl with her incredibly swollen face. They’ll all be here to celebrate with you. You’ll be surrounded by friends this weekend. So put that worry away.”
“Okay, Daddy. You’re right.”
“I am. Daddy’s not always right, but I’m right about this. Now let’s talk about orgasm restriction until Sunday.”
Her jaw drops. “Uh—Sunday?”
“Tonight, you can have as many orgasms as you want without permission. Tomorrow, you can have one before noon. You tell me when you want it. After that, no more orgasms until the collaring ceremony on Sunday.”
“Da-daddy, that’s two whole days.”
I nod. “I can count, little girl.”
“No, um, no sex for two days?”
A hopeful koala. That’s new one and I have to fight to keep a straight face.
“No, my baby. There will be lots of sex, but no orgasms. Orgasms are a privilege, correct? Daddy gives them and Daddy takes them away. I’m taking them away until Sunday so you know exactly who you belong to. And so, when you get them on Sunday, they’re extra-special.”
The big eyes go very round. “I want Sunday to be special.”
“It will be. For lots of reasons, including this one.” I pick up one of her wrist cuffs and buckle it on while I continue to speak. “I know you’ll be frustrated when Daddy’s fucking you, but I forbid you to orgasm. What do I want you to focus on?”
She gives a little sigh. I know edging and orgasm denial are not her favorite things. I also know they take her mind off everything else, to say nothing about making her incredibly horny and super-submissive. “The journey, Daddy.”
“That’s right, my very good girl. If you can hold on to that, remembering what’s important and what I want you to feel instead of getting angry and wanting to kill Daddy for denying you, then I promise you Sunday will be very, very special.”
“Okay, Daddy. I’ll try. Lots of cold shower-thoughts, right?”
“Lots of cold shower-thoughts. The other thing I want to talk to you about is your safe word.”
She perks up. “You said you’d consider it?”
“So I did.” While we were renegotiating our contract, Emily asked if she could give up her safe words for correction, discipline, and punishment. My knee-jerk reaction was no. I’ve never topped anyone without a safe word. Although the amount of trust she’s showing me by asking to give up her safe word fills my soul, it’s daunting, too. I’ve always had the safety net of my submissive’s safe word. But after a slightly panicked video call to Niall, I reconsidered. “I have thought about it a great deal. I will agree to you giving up your safe word for correction and discipline, but not for punishment. Will that be enough for you, my sweetie?”
She beams. “Yes, Daddy.”
“While we’re all together this weekend, I’d like you to talk with Vashi and Moon. I know they’ve both given up their safe words. We’ll discuss it again on Tuesday when we have Knee Time, and if it’s something you still want to do, then we’ll amend our contract. If you change your mind after speaking with Vashi and Moon, just tell me. I won’t be upset about it.”
“Okay, Daddy, I will.”
I wait to see if she’s going to say she won’t change her
mind, since Emmy can be stubborn, but she doesn’t, and I smile at my good girl.
“Hands and knees, my baby girl, so I can get your ankle cuffs on.”
Still smiling, she shuffles onto all fours. I admire the lovely curves of her back and hips with my eyes and then my palms. Her skin’s pillow soft from the bubble bath and faintly glossed with moisture. I lean over and press kisses to her calves as I buckle the pink cuffs around her ankles. Deciding that her position is irresistible, I pull up tethers from the bottom of the bed and clip them to her ankle cuffs, then do the same with her wrist cuffs.
“Cheek to the bed and arms out to your sides.”
She immediately complies, and I tighten the straps until she only has a little room to wiggle. Knowing she’ll protest, I settle on my knees behind her and lick a long line through her pussy lips and up her crack, dipping into her sphincter with my pointed tongue.
On cue, she squeaks and wriggles. “Daddy!”
Instead of answering her, I focus on her pucker, licking and laving her forbidden hole while she protests and writhes. I’ve never rimmed her before and whether it’s the taboo of it or just the stimulation, it makes us both a little crazy. I straddle one of her straining calves, rubbing my cock all over her taunt skin and smearing it with pre-cum, while I thrust my tongue in and out. When her legs start to shake, I reach between them and flick her clit with my middle finger.
She comes, wailing, her ass cheeks clamping around my face. I abandon her clit in favor of grabbing her buttocks and grinding my face between them.
“Daddy!”
Laughing, I finally come up to breathe. “Like that, my beanie baby?”
“Super-duper strange sensation,” she mutters into the sheets.
I give her a couple of spanks, to enjoy the pinkness that rises on her skin and the way her ass jiggles, but also to give her a different, more familiar sensation. Then I push her forward for a slightly better angle and set in on her cunt. Mmm, with the bready taste of her natural flavor and the bubble bath, she really does taste like cherry pie. Although she’s probably still overstimulated from her orgasm, she doesn’t protest, just tips her hips so I have easy access while I lick and nip and suck.
