Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Isabella
“Something wrong, little doll?”
In my shock over the revelation that my dream last night wasn’t actually a dream, I forgot to mask my reactions. And I still can’t quite find the inner strength to hide my horror at what he’s done.
“You… last night… that wasn’t a dream, was it?”
Tears clog in my throat, straining my voice, but I refuse to let them fall. Even when he smiles that wicked smile, leaning down so our faces are mere inches from one another, I hold them back.
“I thought you didn’t dream last night, Isabella.”
Fuck. Caught in my own lie. “I… forgot.”
“You forgot you had a dream so soon after waking up?” Straightening, he presses a hand to his chest, his face a mask of fake concern. “We’ll have to ask Doctor D about that. A Little girl like you shouldn’t be having memory problems at such a young age. I’m afraid he’ll have to run all manner of tests to see what’s wrong with my little doll.”
Fear creeps up my spine. I was already scared of this doctor, and the idea of being subjected to whatever tests he may deem necessary fills me with abject terror.
“No, Daddy! I don’t need any tests!” My voice pitches up, making me sound far younger than I am. Which is fitting, I suppose, because right now I feel very much like a scared little girl.
“If you’re forgetting things so easily, I’m afraid you do, little one.”
I’m caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. On one side of me is an unknown, a sadistic doctor with untold horrors at his disposal.
On the other is Daddy. So far, the worst he’s done is spank me. At least I know I can handle a spanking. There’s always the chance he might do worse, but my gut tells me that fessing up to him is the safer option, by far.
“I lied,” I whisper, letting the tears I’ve been holding at bay slip down my cheeks. My bottom lip trembles, and it’s only partly an act. The other part is true worry over the consequences coming my way. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I was just embarrassed.”
“I’m very disappointed to hear that, little one. After your bath, we will deal with your dishonesty. For now, we need to get you ready to visit Doctor D.”
With that, he strips the diaper from me, as Peter returns to the bedroom holding a bag and a long tube. “All ready for our Little one, sir.”
“Ready for what?”
My question goes unheeded. Instead of answering me, Daddy steps aside, taking the bag and hose from Peter as his companion grips my ankles, lifting my legs in the air. Humiliation rushes to my cheeks, turning them so hot I’m certain we could fry an egg on them, at the knowledge all my intimate parts are now exposed to yet another complete stranger.
“I’m afraid this part is going to be very uncomfortable, little doll,” Daddy explains as something hard presses against my bottom hole. “But we need to get you nice and cleaned out for Doctor D.”
Cleaned out? He can’t possibly mean…
“Daddy, no!” Thrashing my head from side to side, I try to jerk my legs out of Peter’s grasp, but his grip is like iron. “I don’t wanna be cleaned out!”
“Isabella, be still.” The rebuke is sharp as a whip crack, but it does nothing to calm me. “This is only going to hurt you more if you continue to fight it.”
“You can’t do this! Let go of me, you bastards!”
Both men freeze, and it’s as though the very air around us freezes as well. The corners of Daddy’s lips dip down into a frown as he stares down at me. “I’ve already warned you about your language once today, Isabella. So we are going to have to clean out your mouth and your bottom, it seems.”
Shit, shit, shit. What have I done? “I’m sorry, Daddy!”
Shaking his head, Daddy sighs as he pushes the cold hard thing deeper inside my bottom and I whimper at the pinch and burn as it slides inside me. “I’m afraid that’s far too little, too late, Isabella.”
A moment later, liquid rushes into my bowels and I can’t help but whine as the uncomfortable pressure builds deep in my core. It doesn’t really hurt, but it doesn’t feel right , either.
“If you’d been a good girl, Daddy would let you come while you held the enema in your tummy. But you were very naughty, Isabella, so there will be no pleasure for you the rest of the day.”
Fine by me. The last thing I’m thinking about right now is an orgasm.
When it feels like my stomach is full to bursting, he reaches for the thing in my ass. “All right, Isabella. Clench your bottom while I take the nozzle out.”
Since the last thing I want to do is release all this liquid onto the table, I do as I'm told, tightening my muscles as he pulls the nozzle from my bottom.
But no sooner has he removed one thing from my hole, than something else equally hard presses against it. Pushing inside me, and this time I can't relax and let it in even if I wanted to.
“Daddy, no! Please it hurts!”
“You should have thought of that before you acted out. Now, you're going to hold this plug inside your bottom while Peter gives you the spanking you earned for lying to me about your dream last night.”
Peter? This complete stranger is going to punish me?
Tears stream down my cheeks as I shake my head against the cushion beneath me. “No, I'm sorry, I'll be good, I swear! I'll never be naughty again!”
“It's too late for that, little doll.” He pushes the plug all the way inside me, and if I wasn't already crying I would want to weep at the renewed burn. “You were very, very naughty this morning. Peter, I am going to wash my Little one’s mouth out. Do not stop her spanking until I'm finished.”
Peter, still gripping my ankles, manages to grab both of them in one hand. The hand he's just freed smacks against my bare bottom, leaving behind a sting that makes me cry out. My muscles instinctively clench in response, a painful reminder of the plug nestled between my cheeks.
“Ow, Daddy I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” And I truly am. Sorry I couldn't keep my goddamn mouth shut, that I couldn't pretend to be his good girl the way I'd planned. Sorry I fucked up my plan before I had a chance to even look for an escape.
As Peter spanks, Daddy moves to stand in front of me. I'm so focused on the pain in my backside, both from the spanking and the plug, it takes me a moment to realize he isn't holding a bar of soap. No, what he's holding is his thick, hard cock.
“Turn your head and open your mouth, Isabella. Daddy's going to wash those naughty words out of your mouth for good.”
I don't want to. I don't want to give this sadistic asshole the pleasure of my body. But I also don't want to risk pissing him off any further, so I force my head to turn, my lips to part and welcome him in.
The changing table is exactly the right height for him to slide easily into my mouth, the width of him stretching me wide, to the point of discomfort. Gripping my hair, he holds me there, with the tip of his cock pressed against the back of my throat, blocking my airways. I gag around him, drool dripping from the sides of my mouth, down my cheeks, fresh tears welling in my eyes.
And all the while, Peter never pauses his assault of my bottom. Sharp, stinging spanks cover every inch of exposed skin, setting fire to my most sensitive parts.
Then the worst part comes. Waves of pain in my stomach as the cramps hit, and I have to squeeze my bottom tightly to fight off the urge to release my bowels. Not that the plug would allow me to anyway, but the thought of testing the plug’s ability to hold everything in fills me with a horror beyond anything I've experienced so far.
It's agony, from head to toe, and I have no idea how I'm meant to endure it with my sanity still intact.
Daddy flexes his hips, his cock sliding nearly all the way out of my mouth before pushing back in. With slow, measured strokes, he fucks my mouth, forcing me to gag on the length of him with every thrust. Tears and spit mingle together on my cheeks, and as the burn in my bottom battles with the burn in my throat and the sharp pains in my stomach, my chest tightens with something that almost feels like guilt.
“My Little girl does not lie,” Daddy growls, his thrusts coming faster now. “My sweet Little girl does not use naughty language. I will not allow this behavior, Isabella Grace, so for your sake this is a lesson I hope I do not need to repeat.”
Never. Never again. If my mouth wasn't stuffed full of cock, I would be swearing up and down to never be naughty again. No more lies, at least not ones I can so easily be caught in. And definitely no more naughty words.
By the time Daddy thrusts between my lips one final time, the salty taste of him filling my mouth as Peter continues to paddle my sore, raw bottom, I am a very, very sorry Little girl.
“Do not spill a single drop of Daddy's cum.” The order is sharp, issued in a low growl that has me swallowing hard. “Whenever you take Daddy in your mouth, you will swallow and you will not waste a single drop or we will repeat the lesson. Am I understood, Isabella?”
Gasping for air as he pulls his softening cock from my mouth, I nod. “Y-yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Peter, six more swats to her sit spots and then she can be done.”
My cries echo around the room as Peter follows Daddy's orders, pain radiating through my body as I clench even harder around the plug.
When Peter finally lowers my legs again, fresh pain flares in my bottom as my scorched skin presses against the cushion beneath me. Choked sobs well in my chest, making me cough as I struggle to drag in air.
“Shh, little one.” Surprisingly tender now, Daddy unstraps the leather from across my waist and scoops me up into his arms. “I’m afraid we have one more bit of unpleasantness to deal with, but then you can have a bath and Daddy will hold you for as long as you need.”
In the bathroom, he tries to put me on my feet, and despite the cramping in my stomach, I cling to him as the sobs rack my body. Even though he's the cause of my distress, he’s also my only source of comfort, comfort I desperately need in this moment.
“Peter, will you remove her plug for me? I don’t think I’m going to be able to put her down until absolutely necessary.”
It’s a testament to how overwhelmed I am from my punishments that I don’t even have the energy to be humiliated by Peter touching me in such an intimate way. Burying my face in Daddy’s shoulder, I continue to sob out all the pain and frustration of the last couple of days, barely paying any attention to the man tugging at the plug in my ass.
But as soon as the plug is free, I realize just how desperately I need to use the bathroom. Panicked, I try to wiggle free, and Daddy immediately puts me down on the toilet.
Fresh sobs burst out of me as my sore bottom touches the cold porcelain, reigniting the pain from my spanking. And when my bowels empty themselves, rather violently, all I can think is how fucking miserable I am.
And that I will never, ever give my Daddy a reason to punish me again.