Rod of Correction_ Taken and Tamed(12)

“Ten more swats,” he pronounced, delivering them rapid fire, so that she had absolutely no time between one and the next to recover. When he finally stopped, Sunny was appalled to realize that she was sobbing. Before she had a chance to reconcile herself to that, he continued, “And another ten for not remembering – after I told you to do so not five minutes ago - to call me ‘Sir’.”

She wailed like a recalcitrant child at that pronouncement, which had him almost smiling at just how far from the powerful businesswoman he had brought her, but he delivered the sentence he had pronounced in the exact same manner, not considering going easy on her.

By the time he finished – really finished – Sunny was blubbering breathlessly, sobs barely receding even a good time afterwards, and they started right up again when she felt him gather her wrists in one hand from where he’d placed them on the bath mat, then part her bottom cheeks very gently to dab something cool and slippery on her bottom flower, saying, “Don’t get used to this,” which she didn’t catch because she was already so distraught. She also didn’t notice that he had – as a precaution – bled off some of the soapy water onto his wrist to verify that the temperature was just right.

“Nooooo!” she moaned, but Rod didn’t even acknowledge what she’d said. It didn’t matter, anyway. She could say no all she wanted, but he would make it yes, if that was what he desired. He did, definitely, desire this.

There was little that would drive home to an ambitious, take-charge young woman the reality that she had given herself over to him as her dominant, that she was now subject to someone else’s will, more starkly than removing her choice about when and or where she relieved herself. He could simply have restricted her from the bathroom, so that she couldn’t pee until he allowed it, but he had had problems with that in the past.

Such things, especially if not approached cautiously and with a better-than-usual understanding of a woman’s health, could lead to infections. These imposed restrictions on him that he tended to chafe against, to say nothing of making the woman in his care uncomfortable. He took his responsibility as a dominant very seriously. She was his to do with as he pleased, yes, but with that came the need to keep a close eye on her, to truly care for her and be absolutely sure that nothing he did would compromise her health.

Besides, this method was a quicker, more powerful, even more personal and private matter that once dealt with, was done and over, with few lingering side effects.

He continued to press the douche nozzle gently against her reluctant opening. He refused to use the enema tip that came with the kit because it was so restricted and, well, wimpy. The long thin plastic nozzle he’d chosen flared at the end, but it compensated for its lack of girth by having multiple holes up and down its length, so that it would subject her to a most thorough cleaning.

“It would go easier for you if you would stop fighting it and relax,” he offered casually. It was of no consequence to him whether she followed his advice. He was going to seat that thing within her and there was nothing she could really do about it.

When nothing seemed to be occurring, he pressed a bit harder, bursting past her feeble resistance and slowly, inexorably sliding the rigid plastic tube inside her.

“Nooooooo!” she moaned, and he wasn’t sure if it was against his comment or the invasion of her bottom. Probably both.

Only when he’d forced her take the whole thing, up to where the flexible hose met the spout, did he reached for the clamp, clicking it open to the second position. “I assume that you know better than to push something out of your body once I’ve placed it there, Sunny. You are not to spill a single drop. You’re welcome to moan and sob a bit, but I want you to remain still and as quiet as possible while you take your medicine. You’ll want to remember that I have the hairbrush right here.” He tapped it against the vanity for emphasis.

On impulse, Rod let go of her hands and replaced them with the brush, laying it horizontally across the small of her back. “If that brush falls off, then it’s going to be used on you while you take the rest of your enema. Put your hands on the bath mat and don’t move them. In fact, I would suggest that you don’t move at all.”

Sunny could feel the water – even warm as it was – coursing through her lower tummy, the soap irritating her innards as it went, more always flooding in to push the earliest flow even further up inside her, helpless to do anything but lie there and have this thing done to her.

She realized with a horrified start that the worst thing wasn’t being naked over his lap, or even the cramping that was beginning to take hold of her. It was the fact that, even though the horrible spankings and this unmitigated humiliation, she was sopping wet, and her clit was second away from sending her into spasms of ecstasy she didn’t want!