Chapter Thirty Four
A Week Of Servitude
Christy kneels on all fours in the laundry room, rectum penetrated by an enema nozzle well inflated. She has a late class so there is no need for haste. I decide to confabulate, learn her thoughts and feelings. It has been a week of servitude.
No cuffs, no collar, no tassels, no shoes, her CB-6000 the only covering. Her exhibitionist nature, all exposed to her governess, brings sanguineness. I adjust the enema valve to slow the flow. It seeps, offering deep comfort. I then pull up a chair and sit, drawing Christy’s head onto my lap.
A mother/daughter talk ensues, except I reach below to gather n*****s quite puffed and sensitized by abundant prolactin, my sensuous touch far from maternal.
“You were a very bad boy... and now need to a good girl,
