Message-ID: <19656eli$9902040444@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: [New Story] Protecting the Mistress (24/31) (FemDom, Romance) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tigger@alices.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii X-Authentication-Warning: philabs-gw.philabs.research.philips.com: smap set sender to using -f Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <36c4fab0.9931622@news.erols.com> Tales of the Cabal: Protecting the Mistress by Tigger Copyright 1999, All Rights Reserved. Archiving and reposting of this work is permitted only on sites where *no* fee (including so-called adult checks) of any type is charged and provided that my authorship, the story itself and this statement of rights are included and are unchanged. This story is based on the Cabal as I developed it in one of my first stories, "Domination Games." This story is archived at the Nifty Archive. Url: www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Tigger/ The file is Domination-Games.html *********** Protecting the Mistress by Tigger Part 24: Nursery Games Mary sat alone in her suite at the lodge, quietly, coldly furious. Against all odds, Gerald had almost made it. He'd been spanked, paddled, tickled, teased and generally tormented to distraction for almost the entire two hours and he'd almost made it. He'd kept his concentration and had somehow held out for the whole scheduled session. She could have counted the number of grains of sand left in the top of the glass on one hand. Freda, damn her black soul, had literally gut-punched Gerry right on top of his bladder with the sharp point of her elbow. Damn the bitch, anyway. The combination of the sudden added pressure on his bladder and the painful shock from the blow had shattered his last reserves of control. Once the flow started, there was nothing he could do to stop it. A surprisingly powerful column of water had erupted from his tormented penis. The length and duration of that fountain had been impressive. Hell, the damned audience had applauded him for that as much or more than they had for the "successful" completion of the second phase of the scene. Of course he hadn't come either, even though she and Freda had teased his penis mercilessly throughout the two-hour scene. He'd certainly been erect throughout the session, but it had only been a "pee hard-on" which had made him physiologically unable to climax. Nothing like a painfully overfilled bladder to block off the semen flow, but that was the whole point of that particular play scenario anyway. He was *supposed* to wet himself and spend the rest of their visit being worked over and tested by Freda. Now, she wished she had been able to get him off. Well, until and unless Gerry safe worded Freda, she was going to be stuck alone in this room - unless someone decided to take mercy on her and drop by for a visit. God, she wished Gemma had minded her own damned business. Still, if things went well, there were other good lessons to be learned in this scene. Who knows, she mused, maybe Gerry would be able to relax once he was in private and play again. The scenario called for the "baby" to be allowed to crawl about, be made to play with baby toys and other silly things. Gemma was superb at getting the sub into the game as nanny, but they couldn't use her since she was already well known to Gerry. Hopefully, Freda would be as good for all her reputation. She knew what was expected. And there were the other, less pleasant but still very important lessons that Gerry would have to absorb before the scene was over. Mary just hoped there would be sufficient playfulness for him to balance the humiliation of those other lessons. Thank God she had ordered him to use his safe word and not be stupidly brave about this. At least he knew she wanted him to do so, regardless of the potential consequences. The whole point of that bondage scene two weeks ago, besides getting him to stay open to her in the presence of an "audience," was to show him that he could safe word without repercussions. Mary really wanted to go home. ~-----------~ So did Gerald. Gerald's trip back to the "nursery" was distinctly uncomfortable. In addition to the bloody baby-restraint system and the jawbreaking ring gag, Gerald had a knot the size of a grapefruit in his lower abdomen from Freda's little shot to his gut. Almost as bad as the hurt was the stench. When he'd lost control, not all of the escaping urine had made it to the floor. A substantial quantity of that flood was now soaking the "bedding" of this baby cart from hell. Rationally, as in the previous congregation scene, Gerald had never expected to be allowed to "win" Mistress Mary's little wager, and yet, he was disappointed that he had not won. Dammit, he fumed silently, he had almost made it. Just a few grains of sand to go, a mere handful of seconds, and he would have made it. He'd seen the surprise in Mary's eyes as she too realized that he had won. And then Freda, pretending to slip on one of her high heeled boots, had given him an elbow drop to the gut that would have done Hulk Hogan proud. That was all she wrote. There was absolutely no doubt that she had done it on purpose, but it didn't really matter. Very little happened in this place that was not intentional. Besides, Mary had intended this to be his fate, so other than a very bad stomachache, nothing much had really changed. At least the pressure on his bladder was relieved. Once inside the nursery, Freda began setting out what she wanted to use for the next few hours. Some of that stuff, Gerald recognized. Diapers, especially adult-sized diapers, were hard to miss, as were the various implements of corporal correction. Some of it, he could not figure out at all, and that bothered him. Well, he was not going to go hide. This *was* a Mary scenario, so there had to be something positive about it - just like there had been in the serving wench scene once he'd let his guard down enough to let the Dommes come inside and play. With that realization, Gerald forced himself to relax. He would have smiled if the gag had permitted it. He put his trust in Mary's caring and understanding, and opened himself to whatever the austerely garbed Domme had in store for him. Humming a silly lullaby, Freda slipped the diaper under his buttocks and proceeded to powder him thoroughly. At least it was real baby powder and not some type of itching-irritant powder. She hung a small rubber bag, about a short pint's size from what Gerald could see of it, from a hanger above her head. Gerald's eyes went wide as he watched her connect a tube with a pinch clamp to the bag and then fill it with water. No, by god, his mind screamed, not that. He'd surrendered control of his bladder to Mistress Mary, publicly in fact, but there was no way in hell he was going to surrender that to this female. "Aaaa errr" he shouted, the infernal ring gag garbling the sound of any letter that required closing of the mouth or lips. Freda just looked at him, and then continued her preparations. "AAAAAA ERRRRR!" Gerald screamed, trying to bite through the damned hard rubber ring so that he could get out the missing "s", "f", "w" and "d" sounds to make "aaaa errrr" into "safe word." It did not work. Christ, he fumed, what the hell good was his promise to safe word if he couldn't signal the damned safe word? Couldn't Freda tell what he was trying to say? Wasn't she an experienced enough domina to know how "safe word" would sound under these circumstances, even through this infernal gag? Mary could, and had done so with him several times in their relationship. And when she wasn't sure, she fucking asked! Having finished her setup, Freda turned back to Gerald. In her hand was a nozzle affixed to the end of the tubing extending from the bottom of the enema bag. Two squeeze tubes connected to the nozzle and dangled on either side of her hand. The bungee cords made it easy for her to gain access to Gerald's anal aperture. He couldn't really lower or straighten his legs to any real degree. Gerald felt the cool slick feeling of lubricant sliding in between cheeks of his butt, and went mad. Using every ounce of strength and determination, he began moving about frantically, at least as much as the restraints permitted. Freda tried to insert the nozzle, but missed each time. Unfortunately for Gerald, the effort to fight the elastic restraints was just too much. Freda kept jabbing, but it quickly became obvious to him that she was letting him wear himself out. Finally, exhaustion won, and Gerald lost. Panting, his muscles screaming for oxygen, he waited for the enema tube to slide into his body. Grim faced and obviously furious, Freda set down the nozzle and picked up the cane she had carried when she had first fetched him from Mary's suite. "Bad boy!" she taunted. "Nanny is going to clean you out, you naughty boy." She pushed up on his feet with one hand, the bungee restraints aiding in that, and brought the cane slashing down across his defenseless bottom. Gerald screamed through the gag, the force of his shriek making his own throat hurt. He had not even finished that first scream when Freda struck again . . . and again, until he had taken six of the best. Her face flushed, and her eyes burning with an emotion that truly frightened Gerald, Freda bent over and got into his face. "Now, I am going to give you that enema, and you are going to be a good boy and not fight me. Fight me, and you will get double what you just got, fight me again and it will double again. Eventually, you will give in, little boy. It's up to you. As for me, I'd just as soon beat your ass as look at you." Utterly defeated, Gerald tried one last time. His eyes fixed on her, he ground out "Aaaaa Errrr!" Shaking her head as if she did not understand, Freda said. "Nod your head yes or no, boy. Yes means you are going to be good and take your enema, and no means you want more of my pretty little cane across those hairless little boy cheeks of yours." Closing his eyes, Gerald nodded. He was trapped, his only way out of here was somehow denied to him. By Mary's decree? No, he'd never believe that. Hell, she'd *ordered* him to use it. The violation of Gerald's rectum was accomplished quickly and without any more fuss. He felt the fullness inside and the tightness outside his anal ring as the two air bladders were filled with air. "Now, here it comes, little boy." Freda cooed as she released the hose clamp. Liquid fire flowed into Gerald's guts. It was hot, and yet, it was more than just hot. It was like there was a chemical burn to it as well. "I made it good and soapy so we can really clean you out." Gerald was sobbing, crying openly with the last of the fluid spilled into him, but Freda made no move to stop or even to remove the now empty enema kit. Instead, she began kneading his lower stomach muscles, forcing the hot fluid into every nook and cranny of Gerald's intestines. Then, she simply waited, watching him as the pressure inside him built, as he strained to control the overwhelming and painful need to empty his bowels. After what seemed like eternity, Freda moved back to his bottom. He heard the hiss of the bladders deflating and felt some of the fullness and pressure subside - at least briefly. Moments later, the nozzle was gone and Freda was pinning the diaper to him. "Nap time, little boy," she smirked, giving him a none-too- gentle buffet to his straining lower abdomen. "Sleep well. I will bring you your bottle in a couple of hours. Nitey night," and she turned the lights in the little cubicle out and left him alone. It was only a matter of time, he thought grimly. Removing the nozzle had only been a momentary respite - the pressure and the pain began building back up almost immediately. He could fight it, and lose control in fifteen or twenty minutes - maybe as much as almost an hour - but in the end, he was going to lose control and mess the diaper. And then he'd be stuck wearing the shitty thing until Freda returned. On the other hand, he could just let go and accept the inevitable. That would relieve one problem, but might cause others. He really did not want to think what that hot, soapy waste would do to the welts Freda's cane had cut into his butt. And the sooner he let go, the longer that stuff would have to eat into him. Gerald set about holding out as long as he could. That was not nearly enough, however, and Gerald had a very long wait before Freda finally returned. Only, when Freda did return, it was with another bottle of that damned water for him to drink or choke on, but she did not bother changing his soiled diaper. End Part 24 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----