A Busy Day Pt. 03: Orgasm By Enema

Author's Note:

Mistress Pepper and Sophie are "anonymized" versions of me and my slave-girl. The real me. All of my stories are (or should I say will be) my memories of a session with a sub. Thus, they are true stories. Only in this version details have been changed to protect the sub. I do live in Mobile about 10 months of the year (the remaining two I spend in Nizhny Novgorod, Russia, where my father is from and lives), and almost all of my subs live in Mobile or a bordering county. I'm originally from Baldwin County, next door to Mobile. I moved across the bay to attend USA. As is/did Mistress Pepper. But I'm not a blond. And you'll most definitely have to guess at my bra size!

Remember, the names and such have been changed in this version to protect the slutty. Only Princess Lilly appears as herself. But she truly has no concept of shame.

A Busy Day

Story #3:

Afternoon Delight

Introduction:

In case this is the first of my stories you've read, there are a few things I've skipped over in this story since there are several other stories I've written about this same sub. I tend to write a story after almost all of my sessions with my toys. But I publish very few of them online.

My name is Pepper Rodgers. I'm a 19-year-old Domme, living downtown Mobile, Alabama. I have a decently well-stocked playroom in the second bedroom of my fourth-floor apartment (most of my neighbors are corporate types who aren't always around, giving me a lot of privacy, even in the halls and elevators). I also have a decently stocked toybox. I prefer my toys to be older than I am, around 30-42 years old. I prefer men for myself, however not for my toybox. When it comes to toys, I find women and couples to be far more amusing. Single men tend to be needier, and often too clingy. But that doesn't mean I don't have a few of them in my toybox. I do. They just don't have the same chances of getting there as couples and single women do.

I'm petite. Actually more "tiny" that petite. I'm 5' 1.75" and 91 pounds. I'm not bony, though, I've curvy, like a small-sized woman. I have blond hair down to my shoulders and blue eyes. Oh, and my chest is the only place I'm not small. I'm a 32-D, and I'm very pert. Which makes me popular with the boys.

I'm also slightly bisexual. I'm attracted to men, not women. I would never choose a female partner for even a date, let alone for sex. But I'm not opposed to masturbating with a female toy. Sophie happens to be my favorite sex toy to pleasure myself with. Her tongue has two big advantages over my vibrator: one, it's very delicate and tender. Two, no matter how much I use it, its batteries never die at the worst possible moment! It's better than fresh bunny batteries, it just keeps going until I want it to stop. And I don't even have to hold it in place!

When I want sex I never use one of my toys. I never allow a toy touch, or even see, all of me. And I never bring a toy to my bedroom. Nor do I chose a woman. I pick a man, usually one I find in a club or cafe, or wherever. I flirt, dance dirty a little and if he meets my standards, I ask if he's interested in a one-time-only, no-names-exchanged, hook-up. I've never been turned down.

I have a few standards for my hook-ups. I never pick a guy I know or even just see around. And I insist on a cock between 7 and 9" long and 1.5" across, plus or minus a small bit. I won't touch a guy who isn't circumcised, either. I hate the way the foreskin feels inside me. I want to feel that fat head. The dirty dancing gives me plenty of time to tease a guy hard and feel for myself what he's got. It's the only way not to be disappointed. Guys always lie about their equipment!

Sophie is my 19-year-old live-in slave-girl. She's slightly petite at 5'4" and 119 pounds. She's pretty, too, with long honey-blond hair, green eyes, and a 34-B chest. Sophie is extremely devoted to me. So devoted, and so happy as my slave, that despite not being attracted to women, she's a virgin with men. She serves and pleasures only me, and those I give her to. And while I use her, even with my male toys, I won't allow any man to touch her pussy or penetrate her bottom. Those are mine. Only mine. I've owned her since she graduated high school, but I've known her longer. Since about two months after her 18th birthday, which was also about two months before she finished high school.

I have three BFFs, (Isabelle, Reagan, and Ellie) none of whom are into my little games. But all of whom occasionally creep into my stories. After all, they are my BFFs so they tend to be around. Luckily they're not offended by anything they happen to see. They're just not eager for me to put on a show on their account.

I also have a circle of five other women friends, all of whom are Dommes as well. Andrea (26), Janelle (35), Colette (39), Diane (43), and Olive (44). we usually get together every couple of weeks for coffee and a little chat about who's doing what to whom lately. We sometimes share, or loan, our toys to each other, but not that often. Sometimes we do a favor for each other, such as providing something different for a toy. Mostly we do what girls do: we gossip.

I get all of my toys through networking. It's almost always either one of the women in our circle who has a toy she doesn't want and offers to point it at another who is interested. Or sometimes one of my toys tells someone, who tells someone, and so on until someone asks my toy to introduce someone to me. Rarely it's someone I don't play with, but who knows what I'm into, who asks me to meet someone.

Orgasm By Enema

I have one last toy on my to-do list for the day. Her name is Nassima. She's French-Algerian and 28-years-old. She's been married for five years now to a 45-year-old French man. He does something, I neither know nor care what, for Airbus that has him flying back and forth between Mobile and Toulouse, France. She's a housewife, so she always accompanies him on his travels. When they're here, which is about four times a year, her husband arranges for her to visit me. She has a single need that he has no desire to fulfill, and he isn't going to allow her anywhere near another man.

I told her husband to bring her at five. He knows to be on time, not early. It will leave me two hours before my usual supper time to deal with her. It should be plenty. Unless she's more disobedient than usual. Then I'll be late for supper. And she'll be sorry that I am.

Tonight will be her sixth time coming to see me. She's slightly submissive, and she definitely likes to play. Her husband is slightly dominant, but to him, it's more of a game, a way to spice things up and have fun instead of part of who he is. He'll spank her. He'll use various toys on her. He'll tie her. Not always, but enough to keep her satisfied.

There's only one thing he has no interest in doing. Anything involving her butt. In his words, it's too "dirty" for him. It turns him off. Not just anal sex, but anything involving her bottom. Even if it only involves a toy.

Unfortunately, Nassima seriously enjoys having her bottom "toyed with." So far, I haven't found anything I could do with it that didn't arouse her obscenely. She's told me that her first boyfriend introduced her to anal sex when she was 18. Quickly a monster was born. According to her, they had almost exclusively anal sex after that. And just as quickly after that, toys became a part of her repertoire. According to her, the orgasms she experiences from anal sex are better than if she were having sex.

Nassima is what I affectionately call a "fuck sub." She's submissive, but only once the bedroom doors are closed behind her. Otherwise, she's just an average vanilla housewife. Not the 24/7 "lifestyle sub" that my live-in slave girl Sophie is. Nor is she what I call a "play sub," a woman who isn't submissive, but enjoys role-playing games where she submits. She wants and needs her husband to be dominant, but only when it comes to sex. More than one of my toys is the same way.

They arrive just a couple of minutes before five. I figured they would, so I'm ready for Nassima when Sophie answers the door. I never asked Nassima if she was Muslim as most Algerians are or not. If she is, she's definitely not the most conservative of Muslim's I've met. Then again, she was raised in France, and the French aren't known for modesty.

She's not wearing a hijab or anything else that a conservative Muslim would. Instead, she's wearing a rather immodest pastel pink top. It's sleeveless and topless, with nothing more than spaghetti straps over her shoulders. Otherwise, from her breasts up, she's bare. It's snug, though not especially so, hugging her body down to the top of her skirt, and no further. Her skirt is snug on her bottom and thighs as well, covering her down to just above her knees. It's very colorful, with vertical strips of varying widths in pastel colors. And a baby blue belt around her waist that's all accessory and no function. She wears only sandals with it.

Nassima is a pretty woman. She's only moderately tall, around 5'6". She's lean, too. I'd guess around 130 pounds. She's very light-skinned, white with a middling olive hue to it, not the dark skin I'd expected when I'd heard she was of African descent. Her skin is no darker than the average Israeli. Or wouldn't be if she hadn't spent the last couple of days working on a tan. She has long, full-bodied black hair with underlying natural radiant brown highlights to it. Hair that hangs down to the bottoms of her shoulder blades. Today, however, she has pulled up and tight. It leaves her modest, narrow neck fully bared. I'd bet she did that to make it easier for me to put a collar on her.

She looks relaxed as her husband walks her in, holding her hand. I didn't expect her to be nervous. She's been here enough to know that I won't hurt her. She might suffer long and hard, but it will be a sweet suffering. And we all know that she wants to be here. She wants someone to play with her bottom and give her the kind of intense orgasm that her husband can't. Can't only because he isn't willing to do anything involving her bottom.

I'm sitting at my desk as she comes in. I stay there. Sophie, as I've told her to do, immediately shows her husband to a seat on the sofa (which is in the middle of the room), then takes Nassima by her hand and walks her over to my desk.

She points Nassima to sit on the stool beside my desk. It's not the most comfortable, even by the standards of wood stools. It's ornate, just not comfortable. It's like sitting on a slab of bare wood. It's small, 12" across and round. It doesn't have a back or anything else more than legs to stand on. She sits properly, her legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap, her back up straight and her eyes forward. She sits still and silent, waiting for instructions. Even then, even with her smallish bottom, the edges of her cheeks hang slightly over the sides.

While Nassima sits silently, I ask her husband a few questions about her. Questions like "has this sex toy been allowed to masturbate?" and "when is the last time this sex toy acted like a gutter whore and climaxed?" It's not the first time I've asked him questions about her sex life. But it is the first time I've done it exactly like this, watching her closely to make sure she sits still and silent, having to hear everything and react to nothing. But I don't ask too much. I get right to the intimate ones, and five minutes later I'm done. I see a tiny bit of unease on her face. That was my goal.

"Clearly this thing has been a rather dirty toy since I last saw it. I'll start with a very nice enema to get it cleaned up. Then we'll see just how slutty that bottom has gotten." I tell him, but I'm really talking to her. I want her to know it's coming. Nassima hates enemas. She hates the way they fill her bottom up, making her very uncomfortable, yet do nothing to stimulate her. At least not while she's squirming and moaning her way through the discomfort. As it ends, she gets very aroused. Plus she knows that once her bowels are cleaned up, something stimulating will be done with her bottom.

I send Sophie to fetch the supplies I want. Then I tell Nassima to stand up, turn around and bend over. With a mask of utter resignation on her face, she stands. As she turns, it gives me a good view of her rounded bottom snuggled in her colorful skirt. Then she's leaning over, resting her forearms on the stool, with her elbows and hands hanging off the edges. She spreads her feet as wide the skirt will allow, which only puts about twelve inches between them. She shuffles her back a few inches to get her back taut and flat.

I didn't tell her to undress. Up until now, I've always done that. I almost always do, preferring to give enemas and everything else to fully nude toys. I take hold of the bottom hem of her skirt and slide it up her thighs as slowly as I can manage to move it. It gives her more time to think about what's coming next. I raise it up all the way to her waist, fully baring her entire bottom, but no more. It shows me that she's dressed up for me. She's wearing a rather sexy pair of crimson panties. The kind that has little ribbons that tie at the sides, instead of straps around her hips. They're sheer, mostly lace, and completely see-through. In front, they're a small triangle. In back, they're equally revealing, leaving around half of her cheeks bared.

With Nassima leaning over, I can see the swath of fabric that covers her pussy before widening into a triangle that covers parts of her cheeks instead of slipping into her crack. It's the only part of her panties that isn't see-through. But I can see a few little strands of her bush poking out around its edges. And I can see that her mound is fairly flat. At least it's not puffing out to me too much.

They still give me a good view of her bottom. Her cheeks are small and firm. So diminutive that they have a slight flatness to them, instead of rounding outward like half melons. But they're still shapely. And now they're pulled taut, both their hard muscles and the olive-toned moderately-tanned skin over them. They're smooth and without a single blemish on them. Her globes don't quite touch, leaving a short crack between them that, at it's narrowest, leaves just enough room for a few sheets of paper to slip between them all the way to her asshole. Through the sheerness of her panties, I can see a light tan line on the insides of her globes that tells me her bikini covers her crack and a very tiny slice of her cheeks around it. Not quite as little as a t-back or g-string, but definitely not the bikini for a modest woman.

I slip her panties down, lowering them until they've bared every speck of her bottom and pussy, but no more. They hang taut around her upper thighs, with maybe an inch of space between them and the bottom of her mound. And now I can see everything.

I've always liked her pussy. Her outer lips are very narrow, more like little strips of skin that puff slightly outward along the crease of her thighs than actual lips. Those are covered with a sparse fur of short and well-trimmed black hairs. Between them, her inner folds start as a single, ridge. Its light-purple-brown flesh beginning as a single ridge puffing it's rounded top up even with her outer lips. And as wide as my little finger. Her slit is long and wide. The ridge extends as if it were a third, but fur-less outer lip, about halfway down before it swells into a spongy-soft knot of wrinkles and then separates into two inner folds that lie flush against each other with only the finest line. Those inner folds are plump and soft, just like a second pair of outer lips would be. I'd take a picture of the cute pussy for my ShameBook (the place where I have the pictures of my toys at their most immodest), but I already have a couple of it. Now I can see the finest trace of wetness at the point where those loose folds meet. But that's all I ever see of her honey there. Those thick folds hold it all inside. I know, if I'm seeing even a trace of it here, inside she's soaking wet.

I use one hand to gently nudge the bottoms of her globe apart. I spread them wide. At first, it fully bares the tiny pinpoint of her asshole to my eyes. Then, as I spread her cheeks to their widest, it stretches the wrinkly flesh around her ring along with them. It leaves her asshole displayed. Her ring is still tiny, little more than a pinprick too small to even really be dark surrounded by a triangular swatch of light purple-brown flesh that fades into the hue of her cheeks barely a quarter of an inch beyond her muscle. Her muscle is tight. A ring of flesh with gentle wrinkles surrounds her ring, the wrinkles all flowing into the little pinprick. Beneath her ring, those soft inner folds of her pussy flow back together, into a smooth little strip of purplish flesh. Then, just before her ring, a second little wrinkle rises up just a hair into a ridge that flows into the pinpoint, as if it's just another of the gentle wrinkles, only more noticeable.

Nassima is a clean woman, but most women like her, women who value their appearance, are. She's clean back here, too. And I know she takes pride in keeping her body clean, and thus desirable. "Gross!" I squeal with some honest sounding disgust in my voice, "did you even bother to wipe, whore?" It has the desired effect. I can feel the tiniest of flinch sweep over her entire body. It's enough to let me know she's having to resist an urge to run away and clean herself up. That she thinks I'm seeing her unclean. That her body, even this least-desired part of her, isn't attractive. "No wonder your husband won't touch it! It would take a HAZMAT suit!" it gets me a second flinch from her. "Oh, slave... get over here! I have something far too filthy for my hands, even with gloves, that needs to be cleaned immediately!"

"Yes, Mistress," Sophie says in her most unhappy, reluctant voice that tells Nassima that Sophie is too unwilling to displease me even though she obviously is disgusted by the task at hand. Sophie is just such the little actress! And it's even more obvious to her that I'm trying to make Nassima think her bottom is especially dirty and ugly, something no human would want to touch. So Sophie plays along, hoping to please me. I give her a wink to let her know I'm pleased with her Oscar-worthy performance so far.

Sophie gets herself a pair of my pastel green latex gloves and snaps them on loudly. She comes over, glances at Nassima's asshole, wrinkles her nose up, and in her most disgusted voice asks, "may I also be allowed to disinfect that butt hole, after I clean all the poo off of it, for you, Mistress?" I tell her she may.

Sophie gets a wet-wipe. While I hold Nassima's cheeks wide, Sophie takes the wet wipe and scrubs the slightly wrinkled flesh around Nassima's asshole. Scrubs it. Hard. In every possible direction. And she's constantly using different parts of the wet wipe. She even makes sure that she presses enough to smooth out the wrinkles as she scrubs over them. It takes her over a minute. Since Nassima was never dirty, the wet wipe isn't very messy when Sophie's done. There are only a few tiny specks on it, slightly less than average. Sophie tosses it. Then Sophie rips open the foil packet of an alcohol wipe. Sophie scrubs Nassima's asshole again with the icy cold wipe. It sends a light chill into Nassima, getting a little shiver from her at first touch, then making little goosebumps sprout up around her ring. Once it's fully disinfected, Sophie uses her hand to fan the darker flesh completely dry.

"Good slave," I tell Sophie, "now I won't have to stare at that filth while I give this whore its enema. Bring me a brown one." I "color code" my enemas by adding a drop of food coloring to the fluid in them so I know what's in there. Except for the brown ones. I don't have to add food coloring to those. They're coffee enemas. It's the highest caffeine brew I could get, that's then been boiled down to concentrate the caffeine to a level slightly higher than the better energy shots. Because rectums are designed, or evolved, to do one thing. To absorb water from waste so our bodies don't waste it. Water that will now include all of that caffeine, which will go straight into her bloodstream and perk her up better than drinking an entire pot of coffee would. And it will do it far quicker. Of course, Nassima hasn't a clue what's in this or any other enema. Not a hint what I'm about to put into her butt.