Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Daddy and Dr. Pedersen hold me wide open and keep me from moving a single inch while Dr. Morgan parts my labia and pulls the hood back from my clit.
I’m soaked. I can feel it running down toward my butt crack.
When Dr. Morgan nudges something against a spot above my pussy, I whimper.
“It will feel odd at first,” he informs me, “but it won’t hurt. Most Little girls enjoy having their urethra penetrated. It’s so close to your clitoris that the sensation can be stimulating.”
I don’t watch as he slides something inside me. The stretch is so weird. Nothing has ever been in my pee-pee hole before. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s tight and odd feeling.
“There,” he declares. “All done.”
When I glance down, I’m surprised to see a small tube coming out of my body. He flips a valve on the side, and my pee pee starts running out. I feel relief from my bladder, but it’s very humiliating being forced to release my urine into the bag Dr. Morgan hooks onto the side of the table.
“Okay,” he states. “Let’s get her on her side again. Knees bent like before. Wedge between them. But I want the top leg pushed farther toward her chest.”
I’m relieved to no longer have my legs spread so wide so everyone can see my pussy, but I’m nowhere near out of the woods here. I suspect things are going to happen that I can’t even imagine. Humiliating things that make my heart race and my pussy flood.
Is this why Dr. Pedersen joined us? Because my Daddies knew I’d react even stronger if more people were in the room.
Nurse Kelly keeps my hands stretched above my head, but she slides a soft pillow under me.
Papa cups my face. “You’re doing so well, sweet girl. Let the doctor examine your bottom now. Don’t fight it.”
I take a deep breath and hold it when Dr. Morgan touches my tight hole with a lubed finger.
Dr. Pedersen holds my hip steady so I can’t move. He also holds my butt cheek, pulling it with his fingers so I’m as exposed as possible.
I flinch when Dr. Morgan’s finger slides into me, willing him to be fast because I’m going to come on the table if he’s not. I try to think of anything else, but it’s hard when he continues speaking. “When was her last bowel movement?”
“This morning.”
“Okay. I won’t use a suppository first then. I’ll skip to the enema.”
I jerk in everyone’s grip. “Enema?” I cry out.
Papa holds me steady with a hand to my shoulder. “Deep breaths, sweet girl. Have you ever had an enema before?”
I shake my head, still wiggling as if I might be able to escape ten strong hands. “No. But I know what it is. I’ve heard the girls talk about them at the Ranch sometimes. I don’t want the doctor to put anything in my bottom, Papa. I don’t need it.” My heart is racing.
Dr. Morgan removes his finger. A moment later, he rolls a pole up to me. There’s a large clear bag of fluid attached to it. How did I not notice it earlier?
Dr. Pedersen pats my hip. “Trust me, Little one, you’re going to be just fine. Just relax and let the saline fill your bottom. When it’s all over, you’ll be squeaky clean inside. It will help you relax so you can have anal sex tonight without worrying about anything possibly being in your bottom.”
This thought never once occurred to me. Now that he’s planted the idea, I wonder if such a thing happens? Is this enema really necessary?
“It’s good for Little girls to have an occasional enema, Eloise,” Dr. Morgan says as he nudges my hole with something.
I clench my butt cheeks together.
Dr. Pedersen pats my hip again. “Relax your bottom, Little one. Let the nozzle in. It won’t hurt. It’s not even as large as the plugs you’ve been wearing.”
That’s good at least. I think. But so many people are looking at my naughty hole. It’s degrading and, and, and… I squeeze my eyes closed, trying not to admit even to myself that I want this. I want the doctors to fill my tummy with saline and force me to empty it. It’s so unnerving that my ears are ringing, and the room feels like it’s spinning.
The nozzle slides into my bottom. Deep. Deeper than any plug or my Daddies’ fingers. A moment later, I feel liquid filling me.
“Such a good girl,” Papa coos. “I’m so proud of you.”
I wonder if he’s turned on by my plight and lower my gaze to the front of his pants. There’s a huge bulge in the front of his jeans. He’s aroused.
I can’t escape this, so I decide to count to one hundred in my head and endure the process. I count slowly. By the time I get to fifty, the doctor shuts off the valve. “You’re doing so well, Eloise,” he says. “It needs to sit for a while, and then you can let it all out. You’ll feel fantastic afterward.”