Petra and Maya usually administered the enemas, treating them as a mere routine. They often chatted together while water gurgled into me, and even included me in the conversation; though internal pressure and cramps made it difficult for me to concentrate on my replies. I never knew whether the water would be steaming hot, icy cold, or laced with something that would make the cramps more intense and leave my sore hole itching and burning afterward.
My bath usually followed. Maya would howl with laughter as I whooped and squirmed under the icy spray. I would lose my traction on the slippery floor and flop like a fish while she aimed the jet between my legs and into my face. Still shivering and dripping, I was spanked with a strap, or whipped. Once I was caned. Sometimes the beating was a m
