"Prepare him." What in heaven's name did she mean by that?
"Come with me," ordered Priscilla.
Naked as a jaybird, I followed her down a hallway to a gigantic, ornate bathroom with white tiles, a marble tub, brass faucets, and unbelievably bright lighting. The bathroom was nearly as big as my poor little bedroom at home.
I knew Priscilla had sensed my nervousness, but she was enjoying her little part in this scene far too much to let me off the hook. "Please stand next to the bathtub while I get things ready."
She had just as stern a voice as Sarah, but at least she was kind enough to say "please," something Sarah had yet to say when commanding me to take an action. I stood next to the tub, my hands in front of private area, wondering why this room had been chosen for my "preparation."
Priscilla looked at me briefly. "Mr. Reynolds, I am sure Mistress will ask me about your behavior with me. I know she would be most disappointed to hear that you were covering your genitalia with your hands. Mistress expects you to keep yourself totally exposed while you are here in this house."
I moved my hands to my side and dutifully stood at attention while I watched the maid move to a cabinet beneath the sink. She bent over, her black skirt riding well up her bare, well-shaped, lightly tanned legs. She fumbled about the cabinet for a few seconds. When she straightened up she was holding an ominous-looking red enema bag with a long white hose. The smirk on her pretty face was obvious as she looked at the startled look on my face.
I knew immediately what was in store for me and my heart started beating a mile a minute. My face had never felt so flushed. I felt dumbstruck. Helpless. Bewildered.
"I know you would want to be totally clean for Mistress, especially back there," she said as she stole a glance at my ass, "and especially the first time she deflowers you."
I swallowed hard. "You want me to give myself an enema?" I asked incredulously.
She smiled broadly, her pretty white teeth glistening in the bright light. "Oh, no, Mr. Reynolds. I will be conducting this entire procedure. It's one of the services Mistress asks me to perform. Please don't feel so nervous, I've done this many times and if you cooperate fully we shall be out of here in no time and I'll be happy to take you to the deflowering room. I am sure you wish to please your Mistress, don't you?"
"I… I… Yes, of course," I stated quite honestly. Even at this early point in our relationship, there was no one in the world I wanted to please more. I was feeling more and more like a fly being drawn inexorably into a web, yet there was something inside me that was making me do whatever was necessary to please Sarah. In my heart of hearts, knowing that I would not want to displease her in any way was already becoming ingrained in my psyche. This feeling extended, of course, to Priscilla, her faithful servant who, in my judgment, spoke for Mistress Sarah.
"Good. Then when I am done preparing the enema solution, you shall get on your hands and knees, your head facing the tub. For now, you may watch and learn."
Priscilla placed the red bag on a table next to the sink, letting the hose hang down, its white plastic nozzle just inches from the tile. She reached back into the cabinet and retrieved a container of Epson Salt.
"The Epson Salt has a tendency to increase cramping, but, when combined with soap, helps to really clean the bowels," she said with an almost clinical voice. "The procedure is done twice, once with the soap and Epson solution, and once with clear warm water. When we are done, you shall be perfectly clean for Mistress."
I watched in almost total disbelief as Pricilla filled the sink with warm water, added about a tablespoon of the salt to it, and then lathered a bar of ivory soap in her hands, pausing from time to time to rinse her hands in the water which soon clouded from the mixed solution. She finally lowered the bag into the water and filled it. She completed all of her tasks with total efficiency and I got the distinct impression she had done this many times.
When she finished filling the bag, she turned her face toward me, surveying the length of my naked body, with my newly-shaved pubic and testicle areas on display. I looked away out of nervousness. She seemed to relish my humiliation.
"Kneel," she commanded.
I turned quickly and moved my hands and knees to the cold tile floor, presenting my naked backside to the maid who was about to cause me much embarrassment.
"Lean forward, on your forearms, so your ass is better presented."
I suddenly realized that the string from the Tampon Sarah had inserted into my nether region was hanging downward between my slightly opened legs, lightly touching my hairless sac. Priscilla noticed it, too, and, with a few slight tugs, pulled it out me. "We can replace this later," she said. "It would just get in the way now."
I shall not go into all of the lurid details of the two enemas Priscilla administered that fateful evening, but suffice it to say the humiliation was like nothing I had even known. When she pried my ass cheeks part and lubricated my soon to be de-virginized anus with some cold gel and gently eased the plastic nozzle into me, I felt like crawling inside the tiles and disappearing from the face of the earth. I cramped terribly from the first soapy solution. At least Priscilla was kind enough to leave the room while I relieved myself. I tolerated the second, plain warm-water enema much better physically, but the mental aspect left my mind reeling. Again, thankfully, she left me alone to expel the water from my bowels.
When she returned I was standing next to tub, hands dutifully at my sides, my face as red as a beet. She smiled. "We are almost done, Mr. Reynolds. You have done well." I considered thanking her for the compliment, but thought the better of it. There was little of which to be proud, if the truth be known. "You may assume the same position. I need to complete the lubrication process for your deflowering."
I knelt again, my ass raised up and well proffered. Priscilla knelt behind me, spread my cheeks once more, and stared for what I felt was an inordinately long time at the view of my anus before her. I could almost feel her eyes on my most private area. Then she applied a copious amount of the now familiar cold gel to my asshole. Suddenly, without warning, she stealthily slid her index finger through the gel into my anus and wiggled it against the soft walls of my rectum. I didn't groan until she introduced a second finger. I was glad she decided to stop at two.
"Easy," she said in a whisper-soft voice, "it is best not to fight it. Just relax and let it happen. You will be much better prepared for when Mistress takes you. You will be much happier that we are doing this now."
I relaxed as best as I could, but with two fingers busily toying with my rectal orifice, relaxation was the last thing on my mind. She applied more gel on her exploring fingers, adding the final amount of lubrication that would ease the path for Sarah to have her way with me. Seconds turned into minutes as she delved into me, moving her fingers back and forth with varying speeds. She seemed to enjoy her endeavors completely. When she was done, she helped me rise to a standing position and, quite surprisingly, took my hand in hers as she led me to my fate.
On the way down the hall to the "Deflowering Room," Priscilla gleefully told me that Mistress seldom used her sexual prowess in this way during the first session, that apparently I was considered "special" and that I should be honored. I didn't know how to respond to her comment, so I remained nervously quiet as she opened the door to a new room I had not yet seen. The room contained only one piece of furniture—a red velvet- covered hassock, perhaps two feet high, with a bright spotlight shining directly upon it. I was about to become the center of attention.
Holding the door open for me, Priscilla said, "You are to bend over the cushion with your belly over the top of it." I walked slowly to the hassock and bent over it. The velvet was smooth and warm beneath my body. "Bring the sides of your knees to the outside of the legs and grip the front legs with your hands."
Once assumed, the position left my backside totally open and vulnerable. "You are expected to remain completely quiet unless Mistress asks for you to speak. The more relaxed you feel, the easier it will be for you."
Such motherly advice…
Priscilla left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Suddenly I was there, naked and alone and completely exposed, awaiting my fate. Minutes went by. The torment of waiting was just as scary as knowing that at some point in the not too distant future Sarah would do something to me I had never even dreamed would happen. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of how totally scared I felt.
Finally, I heard the door open. I dared not look. I heard light footsteps to my side. Soon someone was standing directly in front of me. "You may look up, Mr. Reynolds."
I lifted my head. To my amazement, Sarah was standing only a few feet from me, totally naked except for an ominous-looking black harness, from the middle of which was a long, pink-colored cock, perhaps eight inches in length, that jutted out almost perpendicular to her body. Seeing her breasts for the first time started my heart beating wildly. They were gorgeous, not very large, but almost conical in shape with pink nipples that were hard as rocks, surrounded by equally pink, silver-dollar sized areola. Her breasts were exquisite.
She smiled. "I see Priscilla has prepared you."
I nodded, afraid to speak.
"You have permission to speak, Mr. Reynolds. This is a special occasion indeed and we want you to feel special."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Some females like to totally feminize their slaves. I prefer more subtle approaches, shall we say, just enough of a feminization to give you an idea of what a woman goes through in life. Ours is not an easy lot. We are always the victims of sexual assault, though you would have been a 'victim' had you not volunteered to give your virginity to me as a gift. We have our periods. Our moods. Most men treat us like shit. You will learn to treat all women with such complete respect that they will understand immediately how much you desire their happiness. Your mission in life, from this point forward, is make me, or Priscilla, or any other woman I desire to bring here, as happy as possible. Sometimes our happiness will be found in punishing you, sometimes quite severely. Through it all, you shall remember, above all else, that I am your Mistress. You are my slave. As long as you remember that, all will be fine. Do you understand?"
Seeing her naked for the first time only built the fires in my loins and the engendered more love in my heart for her. She was woman personified, everything a man could hope for. I don't know why, but I would do anything Sarah, Mistress Sarah, wanted. Anything at all.
"Yes, Ma'am, I understand."
