Page 50 of Mine

“Look at you…such a greedy little slut for my cock that you’ll bend over and hold your ass open for me to clean you out this way.”

My pulse kicks up in the most addicting way, the soft voice in my head sayingYes, Sir. I’m your slut. Tell me again.

As if reading my thoughts, Sir adds, “Tell me. I want to hear you say you’re a greedy little slut for my cock.”

“I’m a greedy little slut for your cock.” In this moment, that feels like being the most powerful person in the world. My desire to submit to him is my superpower, giving me the ability to accomplish anything, to have anything. I’m untouchable and flying because wanting him and obeying him give me so much strength. “It’s all I want…all I need.”

“Christ, you’re so fucking perfect.”

And I feel perfect. Along with everything else he makes me feel, it’s the complete acceptance that means so much, and he’s the only person in the world I get that from.

More water floods in, my insides beginning to feel full.

“Can you take more?” he asks when I wince.

“Yes, Sir. A little bit.” Since this isn’t my first enema, I know my body—know what I can take and what I can’t. He might push me close to my boundaries, but that’s something we both want. I like the challenge in that, and he likes giving it to me.

“It’s okay to say yellow. Tell me if you can’t.”

“I can,” I assure him.

My legs feel weak, and a cramp hits my gut when he fills me more. I want to keep going, want him to empty the bag, but I also want to make him proud, and I know that telling him the truth will make him prouder than anything else. Sir wants me to suffer, but only in a way we both like, and neither of us would ever risk going so far that we did actual damage to my body.

“I think that’s enough, Sir… I can’t…take more. Yellow…”

He immediately stops, his hand rubbing up and down my back. “Thank you for telling me and for using your color so I know you’re serious.”

For a reason I can’t understand, I’m hit with a wave of emotions, like a tsunami chasing me down. Tears rush down my face, blurring us in the mirror. “You’re not mad?” I don’t know why I’m asking. There’s not a part of me that believes Marshall would be mad in a situation like this, but I need to hear it.

“No.” He uses his free hand to wipe my tears, the other one still holding the enema bag. “I’m proud. You’re such a good boy. You did so well for me. I’m not angry or disappointed in you.”

As soon as I hear the worddisappointed, I realize that was really my fear—that’s what I needed him to say. I want Sir to always be proud of me, and I feared not being able to go on would make him dissatisfied with me, but really, it was the opposite.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Are you okay? I’m going to pull it out, and you have to tighten to hold the water inside. Can you do that for your Sir?”

“Yes,” I reply, determined to accomplish what he asked.

“Good boy.”

It’s weird and uncomfortable when he pulls it out. I flinch, but I also make sure I hold the water in. I can’t imagine having an accident like that in front of him. I would be horrified, but somehow, thinking about that, how embarrassing it would be, manages to turn me on more.

“There we go… Now turn around and look at me.”

The fullness inside me is even more noticeable when I stand straight and turn. Sir sets the supplies on the counter, then washes his hands slowly, as if he has all the time in the world.

“How do you feel?”

“Like you shoved an enema nozzle up my ass, filled me with water, and now I have to hold it in.”

Marshall gives me a devilish grin. “Perfect. Now undress me.”

“Yes, Sir.” I wince, trying to ignore the discomfort in my gut. It’s not as jarring as the first time I did this to myself, and if it starts hurting, I know what I need to say to make it stop.

Sir lifts his arms for me to pull his shirt off. When I stretch up to do it, another cramp spasms in my stomach.

Next, I work open his jeans, then push them and his underwear down his thighs. Sir isn’t fully hard, his cock at half-mast. I want to lean in and suck him, to inhale his scent and let it soothe me, but I haven’t been given permission, so I don’t.

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