Lady in Waiting (4)
Later that day, towards the evening, as the sun was going down, I once again,
had lessons to learn; Table Manners...
As I was cleaning the floor of the dinning-room, both Matt and Errol
re-appeared, laughing... something about Master and Servant relationships. "Now
my little cunt, last lesson of the day", Matt was saying "Positions at the
dinner table, including manners!" I was completely astounded; they have already
worn me out today, I thought, could I stand another lesson? It seems they
thought so...and the butt plug, I was growing to hate it!
Matt was instructing me, "You must always get down on your knees, eyes downcast,
but further" SLAP!! Licking my red cheek from top to bottom, and Errol,
un-plugging me, and inspecting me. "Anything that is asked of you, while we are
out at dinner, will be complied with." Matt was instructing, "permission to use
your arse will have been given, prior to dinner; and you will not be privy to
this information."
"You will learn to respect members of the order, and you will address them as
Sir", slapping my tits, Matt loved every minute of this; I could hear it in the
tone of his voice. "You will attempt not to cry out, you will raise your arse,
unless otherwise instructed, and you will follow instructions, down to the
finest detail" Slap, "Got that?" Slap!!
"You, may not do anything, except sit at the table, until you are ordered to do
something." To reiterate the points being made; Errol and Matt were stirring up
old wounds (the Branding) and slapping me wherever their blows fell. Feeling
abused and confused, trying to take it all in, I began to cry again. This
earned me another whipping. Dragging me over to the, what I now call,
whipping-post, crying all the way; I was once again secured by my wrists and
ankles, spread-eagled. Mumbling to myself, in shock, I heard, from voices from
afar...maybe Master, "This should teach you, so you might remember, we do not
want you embarrassing us when we take you out" Matt said, almost lovingly, " you
must know how to behave, I am doing this for your own good." Whoosh, Sting, I
cry out, another and another and another...I can no longer stand it, I feel
myself disconnect, floating, floating, drifting...
I recognise the smell, smelling salts, reality, pain, and Masters voice; "She's
coming round." I hang my head, this lesson, I have learned. "We have a
surprise for you, tonight..."
"Tonight I" Matt began to speak softly, in my ear, "you will be shaved, given an
enema, and allowed to sleep without the plug", still hanging, strapped up on the
Post, he was flicking his tongue in and out of my ear. Errol was slowly, but at
the same time, painfully removing the plug. No plug tonight, I thought, thank
goodness. "This is so that your arse can be a little tight on entry, for out
dinner guests, Errol's voice, from behind, slapping my welts, bringing tears to
my eyes. Matt was saying; "I will use a cutthroat, so, I suggest you be on your
best behaviour, as you know, accidents can happen" with the most evil grin.
Hopefully I would be given privacy for the enema, but no, " Errol will
administer the enema, and deem when all is good n clean n fresh," laughing
wickedly, Master started to untie my wrists, Errol, my ankles.
I was led, to what looked like a dentists chair, but it had stirrups attached on
either side, and told to sit in it. Each man grabbed a leg, and curled them
over the stirrups, which locked round my ankles. Errol was touching and
pinching my breasts, while Master went, out of my line of vision, to return with
a shaving kit, bowl and jug of warm water. The shaving cream smelled sweet, I
smiled to myself, a little bit of a wash. "Now be a good little cunt, and you
won't bleed", Matt was slowly opening the cutthroat, which glistened in the dim
light, while, Errol lathering me up, and fingering my cunt, was saying to Matt,
how he was looking forward to his enema session. I knew then, he would
definitely make it an unforgettable one. The cutthroat started, at the top of
my bush, short strokes, almost pleasant, Master, frowning in concentration, was
getting hard. As I was being shaved, Errol, evil Errol, was fingering my little
nub, making me want to jump from pleasure, only, I could not, for fear of being
cut. Moving down over the lips of my cunt, Master was saying, more to himself,
than anyone in particular, what a neat little pussy I have, and why did I hide
it beneath all this hair. I twitched, getting nicked by the blade, "oh, look,
you have gone and cut yourself", Master, with his free hand, rubbed his fingers
in it, as did Errol, Master commanded me to lick his bloody fingers, Errol
rubbed it into my cunt, "...hmmmm". Both men were now fully erect, throbbing,
jerking. Dropping the very end of the dentist chair, Errol was placing a bucket
beneath my buttocks. I knew what was coming next. A douche bag, funnel, and
warm, soapy-scented water at the ready. "But first", Master manoeuvred between
my legs, "I'm gonna fuck this smooth criminal", with that I was speared to the
hilt of his dick, his hands curling into my hair, pulling, licking my cheek.
Errol's hands on my tits, squeezing, pinching and pulling. Finger dipped in
blood, and stuck down my throat, "good slave, little cunt!" Master was cuming,
pulling on my hair, to illicit a scream, "good girl," he sighed, pumping me full
of his poison.
The operation began, first Errol inserted the tube, slowly, enjoying every
squirm I made. "I am gonna love this", as he began to fill the douche bag, and I
could feel the warm, fragrant, soapy water fill my extended anal canal and my
bowels. I was beginning to think, this is a good thing, being cleansed of
him...but he had plans. Time and time again he filled the douche bag. I was
watched, intently, as my body disposed of the enema into the bucket, below my
buttocks. This was most embarrassing. I wanted to curl up into a little ball
and die. Errol and Matt were discussing me as if I no longer existed! But I
do, don't I?
After having been douched four times, Errol professed he was satisfied. I was
led to my room, no butt plug, thank god. I was allowed to rest tonight, more
bitter milk and oblivious sleep. But the Dinner Party...
