Carrie Ann's Delight

"I asked you a question, Bitch."

"Yes Mistress. Yes he made me suck his cock."

"I know." Rachel said. "I paid him." She pointed to a corner across the room and said. "Kneel in that corner."

I heard what I assumed was Rachel return, but couldn't determine what she was doing. I'd been in the corner for 30-minutes or so when she said. "Go to your room and follow the instructions on your bed."

My room was the former guest bedroom. It had been redone in pink with white trim. Ruffles and lace were everywhere and the walls were covered with pictures of male strippers, their flaccid cocks hanging provocatively from their perfect tanned bodies. There were no doors on my room. Carrie Ann was not allowed privacy and there were lots of mirrors not for vanity, but to shame me for what I had become.

The first item on the list was – Clean yourself. Not referring to a nice warm bath, of course, but to an enema. That was a frequent daily chore.

I stripped out of my clothes, hung up the skirt and blouse, put the bra, panties, hose and garter in the dirty close bag. I hand washed these items every other day.

I filled the 2-quart bag with a scented oily ingredient that mixed with warm water to for a milky cleanser that went in me smoothly most of the time. I used a double Bardex. I put it inside me, pumped the balloons up and laid down on a large bathmat next to the tub. There was always pain and cramping, but the Bardex offers no options. The full two quarts was going in me and it did so fairly quickly. While I held the solution for the required five minutes, I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and applied White Shoulders lotion to my hairless body, put on deodorant and White Shoulders perfume. I'm not required to smell strongly of perfume, but I use the scent in its various forms and it is not "Old Spice". Once the fluid was expelled, I put a super tampon in me and returned to the list.

Sure enough the second item was put a tampon in you. It always struck me as odd for my wife to insist I wear a tampon. Oh well, I wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer anyway.