His - Carolyn Faulkner

His
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Название: His
Автор: Carolyn Faulkner
Добавлено: 23 июнь 2022
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His

Carolyn Faulkner

(c) 2005 (c) 2010 by Blushing Books and Carolyn Faulkner

His

(c) 2005 (c) 2010 Carolyn Faulkner Blushing Books

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Blushing Books O, a subsidiary of

ABCD Graphics and Design

977 Seminole Trail #233

Charlottesville, VA 22901

His by Carolyn Faulkner

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-138-8

The trademark Blushing Books O is registered in the

US Patent and Trademark Office.

Cover by ABCD Webmasters Graphics

Blushing Books thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us!

There are plenty more stories such as the one you've purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our diverse selection!

http://www.blushingbooks.com

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

Chapter One

Raina grasped at the ropes that held her, trying to obey, trying to submit, even though she didn't feel as if she even had any control over whether she did or not.

But her Master would disagree with that idea, she knew from experience this past year. It was her body, and she was solely responsible for its submission to him, every single inch of her, up to and including the very area he was exploring now - one of his most favorite.

She could see the clear plastic container where it was placed near her head, which was held in just such a position that she couldn't look away from it. She was always forced to watch as he emptied the nasty contents of that awful thing inside her, forcing her to accept the somewhat cooled water through force of her own will as it rightfully bent to his. He didn't use a butt plug nozzle. Not her Master. He went for a much subtler approach. He didn't want to take the option of disobeying him away from her. He left it entirely up to her after he'd required her to fill that awful container with the usual solution which was very light on irritating soap, but cool enough to still cause spasms that would remind her of just exactly who it was that owned her throughout.

Raina had also been mindful of his rules and had added the light green food coloring he required that would make the descent of the water level as it emptied into her bottom just that much more dramatic.

While she was forced to stare at the way her "tonic" as he called it made its journey into her insides, she could also see, through artfully rigged mirrors, the entire route it took as it descended down the clear plastic tubing, only held up again by her unnaturally curved buttocks as she was held in what he called the "receptive" position. Normally, when he wasn't trying to show her her own submission in action, her head was down, her face laid into one of those round, cushioned massage rings that he'd liberated from somewhere and jury rigged for her. He loved it, because it was inherently comfortable for her, and it eliminated the need for any sort of a blindfold, because she couldn't see while her face was pressed against it.

He patted her naked hip, very much as if he was patting the haunch of one of his many Thoroughbreds. He enjoyed how she looked, most especially in this position. He had lifted her onto her punishment table - the heavy gage one he'd had built to his own specifications that were quite baroque and overblown. He adored seeing a tiny woman - Raina was only about five feet tall and about ninety eight pounds soaking wet - on a huge table, or being fucked by a big guy, such as himself. It had nothing whatever to do with her being in the least childlike - not with those natural D cup breasts of hers - and everything to do with being the biggest person in the room.

He liked being able to pick her up and carry her around to wherever he wanted her. And this evening after he'd awakened her from a nap he'd put her down for not too much earlier, he'd wanted to clean her out for some reason. And around here, his whim was law.

So he'd put her on the huge black table and secured her ankles to a spreader bar so that they were well separated and he would have instantaneous access to any part of her that he might become interested in, then each of them was secured to the imbedded restraints at the corners, as well as the one from the floor directly beneath them, so she couldn't move them from side to side or up and down. He liked her to be able to move as little as possible when he was working on her, and the spreader bar also made it that much harder for her to retain the enema.

Sometimes he was a real bastard.

Then he'd secured the imbedded thick leather belt around her tiny waist, again enjoying the brutish contrast, and moving up to her arms, which he bent at the elbow to give her some support, so that she wasn't leaning all her weigh on her head and neck, but also secured much like her ankles, bound tightly together using the four inch leather wrist cuffs he had collared her with and required her to wear at all times when she wasn't working, attaching them together then individually then to the hook in the floor, so that she was well and truly bound and held fast for her cleansing.

And whatever depraved thing he thought to do

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