The Pirate, Mistress

Each little group of supplies consists of a catheter along with a small syringe full of saline that I need to inflate the tip of it, a packet of lubricating gel, and an empty bag, like an IV bag, with a length of pencil-thin cord. Then there's a second bag, this one filled with a full liter of yellow-tinged enema fluid. It has about six feet of clear tubing attached to it, and a lubricated finger-thick nozzle attached to its other end. A nozzle that's about 8" long. And there is a pair of fresh latex gloves at each as well. That should clean those bottoms out rather fully.

Finally, Sophie sets a small, short stool on the floor beside the table. I stand beside the table, all of the women starting at it, and me, with a fully horrified look on their faces. A couple of them, notably Ciara and Sabrina, have yet to experience all of these "toys." But both know well what they are, and what they'll do to them. And know just as well that it will be unpleasant.

I point to Sabrina. "Come here, pussy diddler, you're first on my menu," I say it teasingly sweet and even more firmly. I've decided to start at her end of the line. That will give Ciara a few extra minutes to dwell upon what's in store for her now. And to watch it twice before she gets to experience it. Sabrina is rather shy and modest. But more so, she's whiny. She'll exaggerate the unpleasantness of everything, leaving Ciara's mind to conjure up worse ideas.

Sabrina groans silently. Her face scrunches up hard. She starts coming forward with hesitant baby steps. Steps that announce how reluctant she is to submit to this.

I tap my foot impatiently, urging Sabrina to pick up her pace. She gets there only slightly quicker. I have her face the stool and bend over, using the stool to put her hands on and brace herself. She does, spreading her legs slightly as I tell her to. She needs to part them. Otherwise, they'll hide the flat mound of her pussy. And if she wasn't ordered to open them, she'd have them squished tightly together right now. Both to modestly hide her pussy, and to block it.

But I have her open her legs about 18", which is the same distance Ciara will be able to open her legs with the irons on her ankles. It's plenty. Sabrina's lean legs fully bare the flat and furry mound of her pussy., in the gentle valley between the creases of her thighs.

I pull the gloves on my hands, snapping each one as I do. The snaps of the latex are enough to get a hard flinch from Sabrina. Then I put my fingers to the wide, fur-lined lips of Sabrina's pussy. Her lips might not be puffy and thick, but they're soft and plush in my fingers. Her lips meet fully, making a fine line of a slit as they do.

It's a slit that looks dark as if her inner folds will be a dark, deep purple as if she were African. She's not, she's first-generation, American-born Greek. As I push her long lips aside, it bares her inner folds. Folds that are fairly short, especially against her long lips. Folds that have a deep, but light, color, almost like a brownness, to their edges. But that quickly fades into a light, bright pinkness long before those short lips reach the rest of her pinkness. I spread her folds as well, letting me see the hard knot where those folds flow into one. And the second fold, this one of olive-toned flesh, that flows over and almost fully covers that knot. But I can see her pea-sized clit peeking the tip of its head out from under that fold, already eager for some attention.

I suspect Sabrina is going to hate this. Just as Ciara will. The two have a lot in common. Both are best aroused by the feeling of being possessed and used by another. And I know Sabrina is so modest that it's difficult for her to show anyone any of her intimate body. This should give her the feeling of being owned. And the feeling of my knowing a part of her body that even she doesn't. Her pussy will love it.

I put my fingers to her pinkness, just around the top of her tunnel, and use them to smooth out the flesh until I have a clear view of the tiny hole that's the opening of her urethra. I let my fingers slip over to that, and pull the pink, and wet, flesh around it taut. That stretches her hole taut as well, not stretching it out, but fully revealing the opening. I leave my fingers there, holding it.

I get the catheter. It's a latex tube with a stiffness to the first couple of inches after it's rounded, and narrow, tip. Then, about an inch after that tip, there's a narrow band of latex that will inflate like a balloon inside her bladder and hold the tube from slipping out of her. Even if she wants it to. At the other end of the catheter, there's a Y with two ports. A wide port that's open to the main channel. And there's a much narrow port that connects to a thin tube running through the wider one. That narrow tube is the one that inflates the balloon band. And that port has a valve on it which allows the fluid to flow only when something is connected to it. The other port doesn't. But there is a plastic clamp across the line, which Sophie put on it for me, that will keep anything from flowing through that channel.

I put the rounded point of the tip against the small hole. The catheter is a #24-French, which is far from the thinnest, and least uncomfortable, of them. But it's not the thickest either. Not even the thickest in my collection. Its tip, covered with the lubricant gel, slip a tiny fraction of an inch into Sabrina's opening. Not enough for her to feel it yet. Then, the curve of the tip grows wider than her relaxed opening is. But her tube is rubbery and will stretch to accommodate the wider tube. That, she'll feel. I give the catheter a good, firm, but not too fast shove.

Sabrina shrieks out a pained yelp. A loud cry of "EE-OW!" Her entire body tenses hard as well. It's far more of a whine than called for. And it gets a hard flinch from the other women waiting for their turn up here.

It only takes about a second for the catheter to slide all the way until I feel the resistance of its tip pressing against the muscles at the base of her bladder. I push a little harder, Sabrina yelps again, and it slips right in. I let it slide a bit until I know the balloon is all the way into her. Then I hold it still, taking my fingers from her pinkness to connect the small syringe to the small port. A quick press of the plunger and the balloon inflates. I release the catheter, pulling my fingers away from Sabrina's pussy, and letting her furry lips close around the tube. I twist the syringe off. And I leave it like that for a moment.

I grab the enema nozzle in my left hand and quickly pop the hard plastic cap off of it. That bares the white, fairly stiff, tube of the nozzle with its film of slick gel on it. It too has a rounded tip, this one wider, almost like a half marble.

I use my right hand to push Sabrina's taut, hard, well-rounded cheeks wide, fully spreading the deep crack of her bottom. It bares the small ring of her asshole to my eyes. Her ring is tight and tensed. It begins with a quarter-sized swath of light brown, irregularly shaped, that fades into a deep pink color as the lines of gentle little wrinkles flow into her ring. Hers has a very slight funneling to it.

I put the tip of the nozzle to the pinkness of her ring. It's about as wide as a finger. And that's enough to eclipse the tight ring of muscle by a little bit. I press, casually, as if I'm not the least bit concerned whether it's comfortable for Sabrina or not. As if I'm only interested in efficiently putting this tube into her bottom. It very quickly, and rather easily, stretches her asshole enough to start slipping into it.

Sabrina squeals out another loud, "EE-OW!" as it pushes into her. She groans a more muted, but equally whiny, series of "OH!s" as she feels the stiffness slipping deeper and deeper into her bowels. It's the reason I chose a fairly wide and rigid nozzle. I want them to feel the nozzle as it lies in their bottoms. I slip almost all of the nozzle's length into Sabrina, leaving about an inch and a half of it sticking out from the tight pink ring of her asshole that's clenched snugly around it. I don't have to hold this one in place. Sabrina's tensed asshole will do a fine job of that. It's just enough tube this side of her asshole, that as I release her cheeks and allow her crack to close, that the base of the nozzle stands up just beyond the top of her crack. Poking out.

"Stand up, pussy diddler." I snap.

Sabrina stands up. She starts moving quickly, very glad that I'm done poking her very private places. Then she feels the stiffness of the nozzle when her flexing stomach shifts the geometry of her bowel around the unshifting tube. She groans a squeal, "UH!" as she feels that. She slows down considerably, too. She straightens up the rest of the way rather slowly.

I take the cord. It has a little loop tied in one end already for me. I loop the cord around Sabrina's waist, threading the free end through that small loop, and pull it snug around her body just above her hips. I pick up the drain bag and tie the free end of the cord to it. Then I connect the bag to the wide channel of the catheter. I leave the bag hanging from the cord, its light weight keeping the cord taut around her waist, her hips keeping it from slipping down. The bag dangles freely between Sabrina's lower thighs and the tops of her knees.

Now I pick up the enema bag and hand that to Sabrina. I tell her to hold it.

With both tubes clamped off, nothing flows either way. Not into her bottom, nor out of her bladder. Sabrina holds the enema bag low, in front of her pubes. I send her back to the line like that. She walks slowly, the empty drain bag bouncing against her legs, and the stiff nozzle pushing against the inside of her shifting bowels. She returns to her place, and I quickly scold her to be standing just as she was, her shoulder against Penny's.

I pull my gloves off, letting the women stand for a moment. Then I call "fuck toy," Penny's pet name, to come up and take her place bending over. She's no happier about it. But she squeals a little less than Sabrina did, despite being much younger.

And then it's Ciara's turn to come up and get her holes poked full. She comes very reluctantly and nervously, and I see a faint quiver running through her body as she bends over me. She screeches even louder than Sabrina did as I insert the catheter. As she's crying out like the world is ending, I also see a tiny droplet of her honey drip from her tunnel. But Ciara only grunts hard as I push the nozzle into her bottom. Then again, she's been poked there by me enough before. And recently. Nicole is the last one to come up, and she whines the least about it. But she's had both done to her a few times before by me.

It leaves me with a snug line of four women. All stand with bags of yellow-tinted enema fluid in their hands, all holding the bags roughly in front of their pubes. And all have empty drain bags dangling between the legs somewhere near the bottoms of their thighs. And still, nothing flows through either tube. But all of them now fidget uncomfortably. It's not a physical discomfort. They'll barely even feel either tube now. But this is definitely not something they'd want anyone to know about, much less see.

I stand in front of the line, facing the women. "Now let's see who knows how to go pee and keep her bladder from getting too full, and who needs some potty training!" I tauntingly tell them. I start with Nicole, only because she's the one I'm standing closest to. I reach down and flip the plastic clamp off her catheter. Immediately a bright, light, golden pee begins flowing through the tube. A half-second later that golden pee is filling the drain bag. The added weight of it simply pulls the cord a bit harder, snugging it around her waist and making it even harder for the cord to slip down off her hips.

I don't wait for Nicole's pee to stop flowing. I don't even wait at all. As soon as Nicole's pee is flowing, I step down and flip the clamp off Ciara's catheter. And just as quickly I step down to Penny, then to Sabrina. I have all four clamps off before Nicole's bag is finished filling. So I stand there, watching the uncomfortable wrinkling of their faces that tells me they can feel the warmth that's filling the bags that are hanging against their bare legs.

All know what's happening. They're peeing. And they have absolutely no control over it. They can't stop if they want to. But if I want them to, I can make them. I'll just clamp the line, and they'll stop. I know these women are thinking about that. About how I've taken control of this intimate, and very private, act. How I'm making them do it so immodestly.

I watch my toys, making sure they know I'm watching them. That I'm supervising the peeing that I'm in total control of. That I have a good view of this embarrassing display. I wait until all four catheters are empty, all of their pee now drained into the bags hanging between their lower thighs.

I'm sure they expect me to clamp the lines off now that they're done. Or, better yet, to remove the catheters. They should that won't be happening. If it was I would have waited to put the enema nozzle into them. But that doesn't stop them from hoping. I don't even clamp the lines. This way, as they stand here, as a few drops of pee finds its way from her kidneys to her bladder, it will dribble right through and into the bag. Their bladder will stay completely empty.

"Ah, "I announce in a mocking, scornful voice, I see bimbo wins the award for the fullest bladder. I guess I've fed my utterly useless whore far too much today!" She's had one bowl of wet gruel with a glass of water. But she didn't get a potty break. I had Sophie keep her working, ignoring the idea that Ciara might need to potty. Or might need anything at all. Beside her, Penny has the next fullest bag. That's not a surprise, Penny seems to always be sipping a diet soda.

"You worthless bitches are going to stand there. You will stay very still. I do not want to hear any whines from you. I know your bottoms will be uncomfortable. Guess what, bitches? I don't care! Behave. You do not want to disappoint me." I tell them all firmly.

I wave Sophie to come over and join me. I'm going to need four hands. "Now you bitches hold those enema bags high. Stretch those arms up. The higher you get them the better." I teasingly tell them. I watch as the four reluctant women raise their bags hesitantly. All four stretch their arms up over their heads. Even Ciara with her wrists firmly bound manages to lift her bag. "Now keep those bags high!" I say enthusiastically.

None of the women look even the least bit thrilled as I lead Sophie around behind them. I admit the sight arouses me. Four nice bottoms, all fairly taut and rounded. All standing up. All with the finger-wide end of the enema nozzle jutting out from between their closed cheeks, sticking out just enough for me to see the whiteness of the stiff nozzle before it joins the thinner, clear tubing connected to the bag. And all four of those bottoms so close together, the women standing snugly, intimately, beside and touching each other.

I pick the first two, Nicole's firm bottom, and Ciara's. I put my hands to the clamps on their tubing that are pinching off the enema lines about six inches behind the tips of their globes. With a nod from me, Sophie puts her hands on the other two clamps. She watches my hands. At the same time I flip the clamps off my two, she flips the clamps off the other two. It starts all four enemas flowing at the exact same time. Or at least within a second of each other.

I pace, circling around the women and watching as the fluid slowly flows into their bottoms and fills their rectums. With it flowing slowly, at first I just see goosebumps erupt on their cheeks as the 70-degree water chills their 100-degree insides.

But it doesn't take long for them to start feeling the fullness in their bottoms. At first, all four show the light strain at about the same time. I can see it on their faces. The light clenching of teeth. The tightening of the tendons in their necks. The tensing of their toes as they starting curling, pressing against the floor instead. And all four seem to feel it at about the same time.

Nicole is by the far the most experienced at getting an enema. She's had a few of them. Enough that it's familiar to her. But she's also been my toy longer than the others. She handles the increasing pressure in her bottom the best. I can see her tensing hard from it. And I can hear the measured rate of her breathing as she fights to control herself rather than whine, squirm and displease me.

Standing next to Nicole, this is Ciara's first playful enema. I know that because I'm her first Domme, and this is the first one I've given her. She too quickly tenses up, her muscles turning rock hard as she stands there in her irons. She doesn't have any tricks yet to control herself. She trembles hard as the pressure inside her builds. And her breaths take on a slightly squeaky whininess. But I can't fault a woman for her breathing. I watch as the quivering trembles that rack her body start growing stronger. And then I notice the goosebumps. They don't stay on her globes. Instead, they flow around, over her puffy pussy mound, and up onto her pubes. I hear a little more of the raspiness creeping into her breaths.

Beside Ciara, this is also Penny's first enema. But the 18-year-old girl has had an advantage that none of the others have had. Her mother, Melanie, has been a toy of mind for a while now. She was one of my first, a gift from my mom, a fellow Domme who taught me a lot once I was 18! And once I begged her to! She gifted me two toys, Melanie and Teresa. A couple of our other Domme friends sent me some fresh toys around the same time, starting my toy box off nicely. And then came Sophie. I'm sure, once Melanie was confident that Penny had given herself to me, and would be staying in my toy box, Melanie schooled her daughter on the "dangers" of belonging to me. Specifically that I demand my toys be clean and properly groomed, and if I find them "filthy" they can expect a very thorough and equally uncomfortable cleaning. Including an enema. And that I hate being lied to. When I catch a sub "full of it," lying to me, I tend to "clean it out of them" with a very uncomfortable punishment enema. Both being experiences Penny would be smart to strive to avoid. And I'm just as sure that the idea of an enema frightened Penny. The idea of allowing her bottom to be filled up to its limit with something. But now, she neither earned her enema nor had any chance to avoid it.

As she stands there, I can see how uncomfortable, and nervous, she's getting. She too is tensed up hard, and it has her trembling fairly noticeably. She pants hard, deep breaths that are growing throaty. But I can also see her nipples stiffening up even hard than usual, pulling the dark rings around them so taut that they wrinkle up.

At the end of the line, this is Sabrina's second enema. Her first was a slightly gentler one, which I gave her as she lay on her side in her bed. And allowed her husband to watch her get. She's just as stiff as the others. But she also has her eyes squished shut. I scold her that she should know better, and she opens them. Then I see little tears roll down her cheeks. She trembles the hardest of all, almost shuddering.

By now all of them are fidgeting slightly as they stand. The pressure in their bottoms growing too strong for them to stand still. I step in front of Ciara and lean over slightly. It lets me see that the mound of her pussy is glistening. Somehow, her honey has flowed nicely, seeping out her slit and finding it's way up to cover every last bit of her jutting mound. She wasn't like that when I started the flow.