Annabel and Mr. Nash Pt. 04

"We'll just take a few measurements now," Dr. Schafer informed his small audience.

Oh, please! I really need to go to the bathroom! Why won't you let me go?

Disregarding Annabel's obvious state of agitation, for the next few minutes, Dr. Schafer ran a tape measure over every conceivable part of Annabel's naked body. Her arms and legs, her back, her hips, the length of her feet, the circumference of her thighs, the dimensions of her contorted face, her newly increased waistline, even the extended length of her glass-encased breasts, were all measured and then recorded on a clipboard by Nurse Ingle. Throughout it all, Annabel found it increasingly difficult to keep still, and was compelled to clamp her knees together and wiggle her ass as her internal discomfort intensified.

Nurse Ingle then placed a set of bathroom scales on the floor and Annabel obediently stepped up onto them. Her thoughts were far from rational now, but she hoped that the quicker she complied with their instructions, the sooner they would allow her to relieve the pressure in her bowels. While she stood awkwardly on the scales, Dr. Schafer stooped to read her weight.

"A hundred and twenty-eight pounds."

Even through her agony, the number instantly registered with Annabel. She had always been obsessed with her weight and checked it daily -- and for the past three years, she had never been an ounce over one-twenty.

There is eight pounds of water swilling around inside me! she thought despairingly. What must I look like?

As he had done on so many other occasions, Nash seemed to read her thoughts, because he raised the camera to her face so that she could see the display screen. Annabel let out a warbled cry of dismay as she stared in horror at the monstrosity that she had been transformed into.

Her nose was a turned-up snout, and her mouth was stretched into an enormous yawning grin that exposed every single one of her small white teeth. Her normally pear-shaped breasts had been contorted into two pale sausages, capped with long, pink nipples. But the source of the bulk of her discomfort -- her obscenely bulging belly -- was what shocked her the most. How would she ever look normal again? Would she be able to fit into her own clothes? What about stretch marks?

"Okay, I think we have enough data for now," Dr. Schafer said. "Now I want to check Annabel's strength and fitness. There will be more room if we go out into the yard. Nurse Ingle, would you be so kind as to bring the jump rope?"

*

Darius had seen Annabel go through her exercise and posing routine with Mrs. Craddock before, but even his perverted imagination couldn't have conjured up a scene like this. With Nurse Ingle on one side, and Mrs. Craddock with her crop on the other, Annabel tried her best to get her knees up as she swung the yellow rope under her legs. The only sounds in the secluded garden were Annabel's strangled breathing, the slapping of the glass cylinders encasing her breasts, and the gurgling of the water sloshing around inside her bouncing, swollen stomach. Copious amounts of drool splattered from her open mouth, and her beautiful hair flew up in an auburn spray behind her head as she laboriously skipped over the rope.

Darius couldn't take his eyes off Annabel's enlarged stomach as it wobbled and shook with her jumping. The absurd glass cylinders that tightly imprisoned her squashed tits flailed around insanely, banging against Annabel's face on each upward motion. Occasionally the unfortunate girl was forced to stop when the rope became entangled around her feet, but each time she would immediately receive a sharp crack across the buttocks from Mrs. Craddock's crop.

After about ten minutes, Dr. Schafer called a halt to the exercise and instructed Annabel to turn around and bend over. Her body heaving and sheened with sweat, Annabel wearily complied, giving them all a clear view of the black rubber plug jammed inside her asshole, and below it, the succulent petals of pink flesh nestled between her thighs. Dr. Schafer took hold of the butt-plug's little handle and after some twisting and tugging, plucked it out of her body. Immediately, a dribble of soap water followed, accompanied by a mournful groan emanating from Annabel's other end.

"Turn around, put your hands behind your head, and give me twenty squats," Dr. Schafer said.

There was no hesitation from the distraught girl now, and as she dropped down into the undignified pose, a line of discolored water spurted between her legs onto the lawn. As she straightened up, she let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Up and down she went, and each time she lowered herself into a crouch, more soapy water was purged from her bowels. Her four tormentors watched in silent pleasure at Annabel's liquid evacuations, as with each ejection, her face turned a deeper shade of scarlet. This was the most intimate of bodily functions, but due to the intensity of her suffering she was performing it in front of them quite readily.

After five deliciously heady minutes, the eruptions from Annabel's anus diminished to a trickle down the insides of her thighs. She stood upright, knees shaking, hands still clasped behind her head, and tears of shame rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Dr. Schafer broke the silence. "Nurse Ingle, would you please hold the patient steady while I remove the suction cups?"

Darius looked on in utter delight as the nurse moved behind Annabel and locked her arms tightly around her. Dr. Schafer then hooked his fingers into the two glass rings situated at the bottom of the cylinders and pulled backwards. With Nurse Ingle holding her in place, Annabel's breasts were stretched even further as the cylinders resisted relinquishing their tight grip on them. Gradually, her distorted teats eased free of the glass, and then with an embarrassingly loud pop, they sprang free. Dr. Schafer staggered backwards and Darius had to put out his hand to stop him falling onto his ass.

"I think that will do for today," Dr. Schafer said. "Nurse Ingle, would you please remove Annabel's mouth and nose restraints? And then perhaps you and Mrs. Craddock can take her upstairs for a bath." 

Chapter Forty-Two

Helen Parker still could not believe her eyes as she scrolled through the images on her i-pad for the tenth time. She was simply unable to reconcile the humble and shamefaced girl in the pictures with the haughty, self-assured Annabel that she had known and envied for the past five years.

Periodically, she paused the slideshow in order to more closely examine some of the images that particularly grabbed her attention. As incredulous as they were, she also found them strangely exciting. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle a titter when she came to the series of Annabel in her brown-stained panties. Then there were the shots of her exercising and posing in a leotard that was way too small for her womanly curves. And the absurdly comical faces she was pulling!

She stopped at a picture of Annabel strapped into a chair, stark naked, with a rubber hood covering the top half of her face, and with her mouth stuffed with a pair of panties. Helen had never seen Annabel nude before, and she was shocked at how aroused the image made her feel.

She closed the file and gazed out of the French window across the lawn to the pool. The maid had finished setting up the outside bar, the barbecue was ready to go, and extra garden furniture had been arranged on the patio. Helen's pool parties were always good fun, but she was eagerly awaiting this one with far more excitement than usual.

When Darius Nash had unexpectedly messaged her earlier in the week, she had initially ignored him. It was only when he had explained that he was now Annabel's legal guardian and that he had a proposition that would be of benefit to both of them, that she had cautiously replied. After several more communications, including the selection of photos that he had entrusted her with, they had come to an agreement.

It seemed that Nash was keen to isolate Annabel from her former circle of friends, but of far greater interest to Helen, that he particularly wanted to end her relationship with Bobby. He had also been insightful enough to figure out that although Helen was keen to move in on Bobby, he still only had eyes for Annabel.

Nash's proposed solution had had Helen licking her lips in anticipation. She had always harbored a private jealous grudge against Annabel because she had always been the center of attention wherever she went. But after tonight, if Nash delivered on his promise, Annabel's reputation would be destroyed beyond repair -- and Bobby would be so repulsed by her behavior that he would be certain to fall straight into Helen's arms!

*

Considering Mrs. Craddock's usual exacting standards, Annabel's day had been surprisingly relaxed. After showering and dressing in her skimpy maid's outfit, she had prepared and served Nash's breakfast and then spent the rest of the morning doing light housework. Thankfully, she had seen little of Nash, who had been mostly ensconced in his study.

In the three days since her demented medical exam, to Annabel's relief her body had reverted back to its original shape. Her stomach was as flat and toned as before her ordeal, with no indication of the hideous bloating induced by Dr. Schafer's awful enema, and her face was as beautiful as ever. Evidently, Nash intended to keep his word that she would suffer no permanent physical side-effects resulting from her depraved punishments -- but he had not made any guarantees about the psychological damage. As she went about her lowly chores, the nightmarish scenes from the strip poker night now mingled with the memory of the medical exam, and together they spun constantly around in her head.

Something else had happened to her as well -- in all her years growing up at Pemberton Hall, she had spent many an hour in front of her mirror, vainly brushing her long red tresses, and checking her face for the slightest of blemishes. Now however, whenever she caught sight of her reflection, she would quickly look away -- not because her appearance was any less appealing, but because she simply couldn't face herself anymore. This self-loathing was a new and desolate emotion, and she wondered miserably if it would remain with her long after she had said good-riddance to Nash and his disgusting acquaintances.

Not long after lunch, Mrs. Craddock interrupted Annabel's dark ruminations by calling her upstairs for a bath.

*

Darius closed Annabel's Sony laptop, satisfied that in Helen Parker he had found a new ally. During the course of their electronic conversations, Darius had ascertained that not only was Helen totally enamored with Bobby, but that there was also no love lost between her and Annabel either. In fact, it seemed that throughout their years together at senior high and after, Annabel had been the only girl capable of getting the better of Helen, which she had done with regularity.

Helen was beautiful, but Annabel was stunning. Helen was popular, but Annabel was the center of attention. All the boys were attracted to Helen, but they absolutely worshipped Annabel. Annabel had been the Prom Queen, Annabel had been the head cheerleader, Annabel had dated the best-looking boy in school -- and if Annabel hadn't been there, Helen would have had all of those things.

But thanks to Darius, that was all about to change. Not only was he was giving Helen the opportunity to steal Annabel's boyfriend, but also to eliminate her from their social scene forever. He realized that he had taken a huge risk by involving an outsider, but if it went to plan, Annabel's world would continue to shrink until the only person that mattered was her lord and master -- Darius Nash.

"Mr. Nash, Annabel is ready for her inspection," Mrs. Craddock said from behind him.

Darius swiveled around in his chair and smiled contentedly. Annabel was dressed in the same clothes he had selected on her first day here -- the undersized grey blouse with band collar, black pleated flannel skirt, white ankle socks, and buckle-down flats. Perfect! With her hair tied in bunches, it was just the geeky, bland look he wanted her to present to her trendy pals! There was one other refinement he had asked Mrs. Craddock to attend to, however.

"Come here, sweetheart," he crooned.

Head down, the blushing girl shuffled forward, and very slowly, Darius raised the hem of her skirt, and then took in a sharp breath of delight. After her bath, Mrs. Craddock had shaved her pubes, and as per his instructions, she now wore no underwear. Darius gazed adoringly at her sumptuously smooth vulva before gently caressing it with his finger tips. Annabel gasped at his touch and raised her head, but didn't pull away.

A good sign. Her resistance is gradually weakening.

"What a pretty little snatch," he said, lowering her skirt, and her blushes deepened.

"Now today you are going to be given a special treat. But before we leave, I want you to sit down and type a message to your friend, Bobby."

Annabel glanced anxiously at her laptop on Darius' desk. "Bobby?"

"Yes. I'm afraid you've got some rather bad news for him." 

Chapter Forty-Three

Alastair Barclay could hardly contain his excitement as he knocked on Nash's front door for the second time in a week. After Annabel's deflowering the previous weekend, he had gone back to his duties at Pemberton Hall in somewhat ambivalent mood. On the one hand, he had fulfilled a lifelong sexual fantasy. He had had the pleasure of watching Annabel being wickedly taken down from her lofty perch, and had then actually mounted her from behind and deposited his seed inside her womb! When it had been time for his goodbye kiss, the wretched girl had hardly been able to look him in the eye!

But during the following days, an emptiness had descended upon him which he had been unable to shake off. His all-too-brief sexual liaison with the stuff of his dreams had left him aching for more. He had paid Nash handsomely for the heady experience and was quite willing to do so again. The problem was that the old reprobate seemed to have a detailed and carefully structured program laid out for Annabel's ruin, and whoever she saw, and whatever she did, was entirely down to his discretion. This meant that when Alastair had eagerly inquired as to when she would next be available, the miserable swine had refused to commit himself.

So for the next six days, Alastair had been in a state of constant agitation, once more reduced to masturbating himself to sleep -- albeit with a souvenir collection of photos on his computer to help stimulate his memories of that wonderful strip poker night.

Then, out of the blue, Nash had called him, outlining his plan for Annabel's public shaming in front of her friends, and asking if Alastair would be willing to help him add some authenticity to his charade. Wouldn't he just!

The door swung open and there she was, dressed up in a drab blouse and skirt ensemble complete with flat heels. What a comedown for the fashionable young miss! Her friends were going to be totally shocked at her new unstylish look!

Nash appeared behind her, greeted Alastair, and handed him a plastic beach bag. When Alastair hesitated, Nash said," Please understand that it's important for you to revert back to your former role as Annabel's manservant today. I have given her precise instructions regarding her behavior, so all you have to do is follow my lead."

This just gets better and better! I can pretend to be her considerate butler again, but she will never be able to ignore the fact that she submitted to me on her hands and knees like a bitch in heat!

Alastair carried the bag to his waiting vehicle and opened the passenger door. "Miss Annabel," he smirked at the desolate girl. "If you please."

*

"I'm so glad you decided to come, Bobby," Helen purred, handing the handsome young sports jock a cold Schlitz.

Laying on his sunlounger in his tight Speedos, Bobby smiled weakly, although Helen did observe his eyes lingering on her breasts as she pointedly leant over him -- she had deliberately chosen her skimpiest two-piece, which left little to the imagination. The last thing she wanted was competition from Alisha and Samantha, who were currently frolicking in the pool with Josh. Along with Trent, who was contentedly barbecuing their burgers and steaks, they were all single, and she hoped that they might pair off as the alcohol flowed. Drew and Chelsea, her other two guests, were already dating, and were so hot for each other that they would almost certainly retire to one of the spare bedrooms before the party was over.

"I nearly didn't," Bobby replied. "I still can't believe she broke up with me like that. Everything was going so well."

"Sometimes you just don't know people," Helen said, putting her hand on Bobby's thigh.

He glanced at her hand but didn't move it away, and she winked at him.

"Who is this other guy, anyway?" asked Drew from across the patio.

"She said he's her new guardian, whatever that means," Bobby said bitterly. "She's been living with him for the past two weeks."

"I thought she went overseas."

"Yeah, so did I," Bobby snorted.

Helen sighed. "If she lied to you about that, she was probably lying about her feelings for you as well."

"I feel like such a jerk!" said Bobby.

"Are you sure you don't mind my inviting her? She sounded quite keen to show off her new... boyfriend."

"No, I've got to see this with my own eyes. She could have at least had the guts to tell me to my face."

"Well," Helen said, looking over his shoulder and across the lawn. "Now's her chance, because here they come."

*

As they approached the poolside patio, Darius' earlier misgivings about attending this party were somewhat mitigated by the sight of the four bikini-clad young ladies who were now watching himself, Barclay, and Annabel with great interest -- as far as he was concerned, the four boys in attendance may as well not have existed.

My, my, what a bevy of beauties! Wouldn't they look just lovely crawling around naked and ashamed in my little house?

Helen, a curvy blonde whom he recognized from her internet photos, was sitting next to a well-built young guy, who he assumed must be Bobby. From their close proximity, it looked as though she was already working on him.

Clever girl! When macho Bobby sees Annabel fawning all over me, he will be sure to rebound off Helen to restore his battered ego!

Back in his study, Annabel had initially balked at sending Bobby his 'Dear John' message, and it had taken a few minutes of threatening and cajoling before she had sadly typed it out. Then he had given her a detailed description of the role she was to play when they got to Helen's house -- with a reminder of the grim consequences if she should fail to perform.

She had listened with growing disbelief, before bursting into tears and whining, "But I'll be the laughing stock!"

"That may be," Darius had said. "But you know what will happen if you disobey me. Think about it. When your year is up, you'll have more money than all of them put together. Perhaps after today, your so-called friends might ostracize you. So what? You can always get new friends. But if you don't go through with this, everything you have endured so far will be for nothing."

Now, as they crossed the manicured lawn, Darius whispered, "Take my hand."

He reached out and grasped air, and turning, saw that Annabel was standing stock-still a couple of yards behind himself and Barclay, with a look of absolute terror on her face.

"Annabel!" Darius hissed. "Do I have to go over this again?"

Dressed in her insipid, unfashionable outfit, Annabel whimpered, "I can't do this! Not in front of my friends!"

Darius wondered uneasily if she really had finally reached her limit. He was ninety-nine percent sure that having come this far, she would find the fortitude to continue. However, although she had somehow dredged up the resolve to weather the degradations he had heaped upon her within the privacy of his home, this was something altogether different. Her reputation was about to be publicly annihilated -- which he had initially promised her would not happen. By moving the goalposts, there was now a possibility that he might lose everything he had accomplished with her so far.