Shearing The Sheep Ch 02

I knelt on the floor, my wrists fastened to the steel poles on either side of me, the plug tight in my ass. I strained and wriggled, barely able to take the pain. My abdomen was distended and my intestines roared in displeasure. The cramping made me want to double over but the restraints kept me from moving more than a few inches. The clock on the floor before me glowed red in the darkened room. Thirteen minutes had passed.

Finally He returned.

An involuntary sigh of impending relief escaped my lips.

At the sound of my anticipation, He turned on His heel and left.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at the red numbers that ticked off slowly. It seemed like an eternity before He returned. Seventeen minutes.

The door slowly opened and I could feel Him behind me.

He moved to stand before me and watched with an amazed curiosity as my belly churned.

"I will release you now," He said. "But you must continue to hold it until I say so."

In the beginning, He had controlled my daily life in the way to which we had originally agreed. He didn't allow me to wear undergarments, He chose the clothing I was to wear, He told me when I could cum and when I was allowed to pleasure Him. I hadn't left the house in over six months and He had taken away the television and radio. I was permitted to read, but only those books He deemed appropriate. Many of my waking hours were spent writing in the journal He had provided. I was to write all of the ways in which I wished for Him to violate my body, at least a page a day, then I was to leave it open on the nightstand for Him to read. Most of the time He disregarded what I wrote and found new and unusual ways to violate my body, but on occasion He would act out one of my scenarios. I was not allowed to speak unless He asked me a question or instructed me to speak. My voice became so unfamiliar to me that when I answered Him, I hardly recognized the sounds that escaped my mouth.

After the night He caught me with the hairbrush and had shaved my head and cunt bald, He began to control more aspects of my life until it was no longer my life at all. I now knew the true life of a submissive. I only mattered when He told me I did and I only mattered in the ways in which He said I did. I could barely remember the girl I had been. It was exactly what I had hoped it would be when I stepped through His door months ago.

At least once a week He secured me to the poles in the center of the room by the wrists and shaved any of the stubbly blonde growth that had accumulated on my head. No longer did He use clippers or scissors, instead He had graduated to a razor, long and shining silver, dangerous looking. He took the hair from my head and then from my cunt and I gave it willingly. If I seemed to be eeking out pleasure from the experience, if he noted any wetness between my legs, He would leave tufts of hair in random spots on my head to destroy any sense of vanity I may have had left. When He was finished and my head was smooth and clean, He took the razor to my cunt, often nicking my tender flesh, leaving small dots of blood on my clean pink skin. It was always done as I watched in the floor length mirror, and I was always left to stare at myself as I was reflected back in the shiny glass for half an hour or more before he would release my sore wrists and aching muscles from the retraints.

He began to control what I ate next, sometimes forcing me to gorge myself until I felt sick to my stomach, sometimes only allowing me to eat once a day. He placed a plate before me and I was expected to eat what it contained, no matter how much or how little, until it was gone. And then He made me lick whatever remained on the white ceramic surface until it shone like my head and cunt.

Once He controlled what I ate, He began to control my bowels.

I was no longer allowed to evacuate my bowels myself. I wore the plug in my ass until He removed it. Once it was removed, He had me lay on the bed with my ass in the air, my face and bald head resting on a soft pillow at an odd angel as He clipped the red enema bag to the hooks He had installed in the ceiling above my bed for just that purpose. He secured my wrists to the headboard and prepared my ass for insertion. If He was feeling generous, He would use His fingers, massaging my tight hole with lubricant until it flexed and begged for the tube to be placed inside. If He was not feeling generous, He shoved the unlubricated tube into my ass with force and anger. The bag held up to two gallons of water, and again, depending on His mood, He filled it accordingly. The best days were when it held less than a gallon of warm sudsy water. I had been able to hold that much in me without much pain. The worst days were when He filled it with ice cold water, two gallons of it. The attack on my insides on those days brought me close to passing out.

Today He had been upset with me. I had spoken out of turn in the bedroom. He had been using my clit for his own pleasure, stroking it, as I sucked on His fingers. I moaned and said, "Yes," without being told I could speak.

As soon as I uttered that single word, it hung in the air between us. He withdrew His body from mine and said, "You will have to be punished."

It had been five days since He had last allowed me to have a bowel movement, so I was almost grateful.

Without instruction, I turned over and placed my hands above my head, my ass high in the air, already reaching out for the red bag of relief.

He bound my wrists silently then left the room with the enema bag.

When He returned with full bag, the tube was clamped halfway down and as He hung the torture device above us, it swung back and forth, taunting me. He next rotated the plug in my ass, the thick bulbous end opening my hole wide and giving me unexpected pleasure. When he saw me move with his motions, He yanked it out and lay it on the bed next to my face. Then He pulled the tube, which was easily and inch larger in diameter than before, toward me and inserted it into my ass without apology. Because we had been sexually engaged prior to the punishment, my ass was wet with juices from my clit and it did not hurt as badly as it had in the past. He pushed a good five inches of the tube into my ass before He felt resistance. I noted the coldness of the tube in my hole and I knew the water was going to be an assault. I clenched my ass cheeks as He released the clamp and the freezing water began to seep into me. I fought the urge to cry out.

He stood on the bed over me and shook His head in disappointment. He wanted the water to enter faster, so He massaged the bag to increase the flow, and my belly began to roll with the force of the water, the temperature, the pain.

When the two gallons of ice cold water had been emptied into my bowels, He pulled the tube from my hole, undid my wrists and gave me the plug, which I had to insert back into my ass. This was the procedure I had been taught. My belly was so full that I could scarcely reach around to my own hole, and the plug ripped at the newly tender skin as I pushed it into place. Next, with His assistance, I got up from the bed and knelt between the two poles. I concentrated on breathing as he cuffed my wrists. He sat before me and placed His hands on my engorged belly, pressing on it, moving the liquid with His touch, enchanted by what he had been able to do to my body with a tube and water. Then he inserted his fingers into my cunt and fucked me, not allowing me to cum. The mixture of pain and pleasure was too much and I cried out.

He withdrew His fingers, placed the clock before me and left.

After seventeen excrutiating minutes, He undid the cuffs and helped me stand. My legs shook and the contents in my abdomen sloshed around shamelessly. He led me to the bathroom and made me stand before the toilet.

"You may speak," He said.

Drawing in a breath, the muscles in my thighs and ass clenched as tightly as I could, I said, "Sir, may I please use the toilet?"

He considered my request for several moments, a smile on his face as he watched my discomfort contort my face. He bent down and ran his finger up my thigh to check if any liquid had seeped out. Luckily I was bone dry.

"You may."

I sat on the toilet and the water and everything I had held inside me for those five long days came out with such force that I passed out. I know this because I woke an hour later on my bed with my wrists bound before me, a new larger plug in my ass, and different clothing covering my body.

He was sitting at the foot of my bed staring at me.

"Would you like to suck my cock?" He asked.

I was exhausted. My skin felt clammy and I needed a shower. There was a knot on my forehead where I must have hit the hard tile floor as I fell off the toilet. My muscles ached and my ass throbbed. My insides felt as though they had been torn out and replaced anew. But I could think of nothing better than pleasing Him.

"Yes please, Sir."

He stood and dropped his pants revealing his hard cock. He thrust it against my cheek, slapping my face with it. He slid me over on my side and placed the tip on his dick against my lips. I sucked it into my waiting mouth with one long, glorious pull.