A Place to Stay – The Prep
377 views
Skip to first unread message
Terri
Feb 17, 2012, 11:12:48 AM2/17/12
to Augustine Art
A Place to Stay – The Prep
Adam had suffered through the humiliating rectal syringe infusions
while he remained in the tub. The mortification of having Fiona, a
woman of forty-one, filling his ass with hot soapy water, was one
thing for the twenty-one year old guy, but what she had wanted him to
portray that evening was something altogether degrading. Wendy, the
“threesome's” partner and bankroll for their Internet venture, wanted
to test the poor boy by seeing if her would accept any instruction
given by either herself or Fiona. Over the next week, Fiona or
“Mumsie” and Wendy or “Aunt Wendy” would tax the poor boy physically
and mentally to see if he was “up” for the part of the nameless,
faceless, perpetually muzzled male model who would undergo any and all
punishments invented by the website's paying members. Nothing would be
off limits – NOTHING!
So as Mumsie toweled off her lobster-red baby who had to sit in super
hot bathwater while she bathed him inside and out, she prepped him for
what would come next that day.
“Now we'll proceed to the chamber that you broke into, baby. That was
not a nice thing, you know. You took advantage of my generosity of
letting you stay here while you were displaced, and look how you
repaid me. You took my keys and opened my playroom and discovered my
dirty little secret. Didn't you, baby? You were a very bad boy.”
“Uh -huh. I'm sorry, Mumsie,” he said meekly.
Grabbing the two oversized enema bags from their hooks on the shower
curtain and draping the hoses and nozzles over her forearm, Fiona
dragged Adam down the hall behind her sinking her fingernails into his
ball sac for control. He could not stop watching the klismaphilia
paraphernalia slapping between her and his thighs. He knew what was
coming. He just hoped that he'd be cumming as well.
Adam was not only beet red from sitting in the scalding water, but he
was naked and his penis was turgid and told of his sexual interest in
Fiona, and Wendy for that matter. It helped that she had “fed” him
megadoses of Viagra each day since he started living with her, but
Adam thought his permanent erection was a sign that he was in love
with the beautiful Fiona. He thought that they would be both business
partners and lovers. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Fiona unlocked the play room and pushed Adam toward the closest
gurney. She turned, still wearing her silky long nightgown with the
spaghetti straps that continuously slipped off her shoulders giving
Adam a peek at her melonlike milkglobes, and locked the play room door
from the inside. Deep down in Adam's psyche, this locking and
unlocking of doors was creating the imagery of him as a kidnap victim,
a POW, an inmate. This is the exact feeling that Fiona wanted to
instill in him.
“Lean over the edge of the gurney, baby, while I secure you.”
Adam knew that this was just another installment in his weeklong
screen tests of sorts, a shot at fame and fortune on the Internet as
hers and Aunt Wendy's plaything – their man, their boy, their baby –
whatever they wanted him to be. They would portray school marms, nuns,
nurses, doctors, police officers, fascist dictators, wardens, prison
guards, witches, clowns, moms, aunts, sisters, cousins, whatever the
public wanted. He would always be their hapless, helpless and
hopelessly bound and gagged victim. All the monies from their Internet
venture would accrue to the women, however. Adam, or Number 28 as he
would be known on the Internet website,, would be just a pauper in
this venture. His value was only his ability to tolerate the most
brutal and savage BDSM scenarios ever concocted. There would be no
limits set for his abuse. There would be no end of money for the two
women as a result.
Fiona urged Adam's feet apart and closer to the gurney's back casters
that had been locked to prevent the gurney from rolling. She secured
them with a set of anklecuffs each, shackling them to each side.
Then she asked Adam to place his hands behind his back, to which she
promptly attached a set of handcuffs. A chain was lowered from the
ceiling by a remote control switch on the wall. Fiona took the hook at
the end of the chain and secured it to Adam's handcuffs. Reversing the
chain's motion, she pulled Adam's arms up behind him in a painful,
shoulder socket wrenching position.
“Ow!” cried out the poor boy.
“I'm getting pretty sick of your complaining, baby. Do you want to be
an equal partner with Wendy and me or should I just let you go and try
and get your possessions from that landlord who refuses to let you in
to your friend's flat while he's overseas?”
Adam thought better of what opportunity he had been given by meeting
Fiona and her asking him to participate in hers and Wendy's plan to
take over the Internet porn world by offering a totally interactive,
no holds barred free-for-all where BDSM enthusiasts could act out
vicariously every evil and horrifying thought while Adam was their
online, real time victim. Of course, Adam didn't know that he would
never see a cent of the money raised by the two women, nor did he know
that he would never be released from his Internet hell – NEVER!
Wendy's and Fiona's subscribers could sign-in night and day, seven
days a week, from now until eternity and suggest ANYTHING they could
imagine in their wildest nightmare to happen to the boy. Wendy and
Fiona and their bank of actresses and actors would be available round-
the-clock to satisfy their subscribers' most frightful, atrocious and
vicious demands. While Fiona and Wendy and the actors and actresses
would all work in shifts, helpless Number 28 would never be
unavailable to his fans. He was the constant on which the Internet
Incest and Torture website would be based.
Adam didn't dare answer Fiona. As she strapped a muzzle over his
mouth, he could not anyway.
His torso was hanging in mid-air over the gurney's padded surface.
Fiona took his Johnson and tied it off with tywraps to each thigh,
bending it down painfully between his legs.
Then Fiona went over to an anteroom, a small bathroom equipped with
everything and anything a BDSM enthusiast would need for internal
examinations and or flushings.
She filled the one open-ended bag with cold beer from a refrigerator
that had a tap right in its door. The half-keg inside kept the beer at
a frigid 33 degrees F. This would be much to cold to hold much flavor
to a beer enthusiast, but to a sadistic nurse it represented the ideal
temperature with which to torture her patient. Besides the carbonated
foam would be downright painful as it filled Adam's colon.
She returned and lowered another chain from the ceiling of the
playroom and attached the hook to the beer bag and drew it up almost
ten feet off the floor. Rising seven feet above poor Adam, the height
of the enema bag exceeded all reasonable and recommended limits for
safety. But Fiona did not care about safety. Fiona did not care about
Adam. Fiona only wanted to inflict as much agony as she possibly could
while she videotaped Adam's adventure for the Internet's promotional
advertising.
Fiona double checked the clamp to make sure it was secure before
stuffing Adam's rectum with a long nozzle with a two-inch diameter
ball-like head. True to her word, she taped the tube and secured it to
Adam's cheeks to prevent its accidental expulsion. Of course, the
tape would do nothing to help the poor boy retain the enema itself.
For this, he would need to exercise complete control of his bowels,
otherwise Fiona would proceed to another, more severe internal
punishment. She was already imaging filling the poor boy's ass with a
metal hook and attaching a power supply to it.
Assured that Adam was set and waiting the flood from the ceiling into
his rectum, Fiona carried the other bag over to a paneled area in the
wall. Pushing on it, the panel opened revealing another chamber that
was filled like a pantry. Selecting a bottle of liquid dish soap, two
quarts of vinegar and a box of baking (bicarbonated) soda, Fiona
emptied the vinegar in the enema bag. She proceeded to pour in about a
cup of liquid soap.
Fiona returned with the bag and the box of baking soda. Raising the
bag up so she could empty the powdered soda in at her discretion, she
exchanged the nozzle with a spiral-like long spike. Twisting it up
into Adam's rigid cock, he screamed beneath his muzzle. Of course,
very little was heard by Fiona. Besides, she was fixated on Adam's
bladder and urethral punishment. Once firmly lodged inside his cock,
Fiona went to a shelf and took out a timer. Setting the timer to 90
minutes, she explained to Adam that he would need to hold both the
enema and the douche inside him for the full 90 minutes to avoid some
very unpleasant electrical devices being implanted in his orifices and
energized. She placed the timer right below Adam's face. His bulged
eyes told his story of complete dread and despair.
Then Fiona opened the clamp to the beer enema and its contents coursed
through into Adam's colon. The coldness of the beer was the initial
shock, then he realized the sheer volume of beer that he'd have to
keep inside him and for how long without the “benefit” of an anal
plug.
Fiona then opened the box of baking soda. Pouring its contents into
the douche bag and sealing it, the contents of the bag had nowhere to
go except through the hose and into Adam's cock and bladder. The
mixture of the bicarbonate of soda into the vinegar and soap solution
caused an enormous explosive effect within the bag, swelling it to
nearly six times its ordinary size before flowing down and into Adam.
The force of the explosion into Adam and the creation of a fluid 6x
the original two quarts of vinegar flooded into him causing his
bladder to swell similarly. The pain and agony of the douching coupled
with the freezing misery caused by the enema in his colon forced the
poor boy to stand almost upright before collapsing back into his prone
position over the gurney. Shaking his head from side to side trying
desperately to get Fiona's attention, Adam was frantic. The timer was
sitting at 88 minutes left. There would be no way that he would be
able to retain either of the enema or the douche.
Adam was ready to explode.
Fiona was busy readying her electronic devices and testing the
amperage of her power supply, awaiting the momentary and shocking
foregone conclusion for the poor boy.
Adam had suffered through the humiliating rectal syringe infusions
while he remained in the tub. The mortification of having Fiona, a
woman of forty-one, filling his ass with hot soapy water, was one
thing for the twenty-one year old guy, but what she had wanted him to
portray that evening was something altogether degrading. Wendy, the
“threesome's” partner and bankroll for their Internet venture, wanted
to test the poor boy by seeing if her would accept any instruction
given by either herself or Fiona. Over the next week, Fiona or
“Mumsie” and Wendy or “Aunt Wendy” would tax the poor boy physically
and mentally to see if he was “up” for the part of the nameless,
faceless, perpetually muzzled male model who would undergo any and all
punishments invented by the website's paying members. Nothing would be
off limits – NOTHING!
So as Mumsie toweled off her lobster-red baby who had to sit in super
hot bathwater while she bathed him inside and out, she prepped him for
what would come next that day.
“Now we'll proceed to the chamber that you broke into, baby. That was
not a nice thing, you know. You took advantage of my generosity of
letting you stay here while you were displaced, and look how you
repaid me. You took my keys and opened my playroom and discovered my
dirty little secret. Didn't you, baby? You were a very bad boy.”
“Uh -huh. I'm sorry, Mumsie,” he said meekly.
Grabbing the two oversized enema bags from their hooks on the shower
curtain and draping the hoses and nozzles over her forearm, Fiona
dragged Adam down the hall behind her sinking her fingernails into his
ball sac for control. He could not stop watching the klismaphilia
paraphernalia slapping between her and his thighs. He knew what was
coming. He just hoped that he'd be cumming as well.
Adam was not only beet red from sitting in the scalding water, but he
was naked and his penis was turgid and told of his sexual interest in
Fiona, and Wendy for that matter. It helped that she had “fed” him
megadoses of Viagra each day since he started living with her, but
Adam thought his permanent erection was a sign that he was in love
with the beautiful Fiona. He thought that they would be both business
partners and lovers. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Fiona unlocked the play room and pushed Adam toward the closest
gurney. She turned, still wearing her silky long nightgown with the
spaghetti straps that continuously slipped off her shoulders giving
Adam a peek at her melonlike milkglobes, and locked the play room door
from the inside. Deep down in Adam's psyche, this locking and
unlocking of doors was creating the imagery of him as a kidnap victim,
a POW, an inmate. This is the exact feeling that Fiona wanted to
instill in him.
“Lean over the edge of the gurney, baby, while I secure you.”
Adam knew that this was just another installment in his weeklong
screen tests of sorts, a shot at fame and fortune on the Internet as
hers and Aunt Wendy's plaything – their man, their boy, their baby –
whatever they wanted him to be. They would portray school marms, nuns,
nurses, doctors, police officers, fascist dictators, wardens, prison
guards, witches, clowns, moms, aunts, sisters, cousins, whatever the
public wanted. He would always be their hapless, helpless and
hopelessly bound and gagged victim. All the monies from their Internet
venture would accrue to the women, however. Adam, or Number 28 as he
would be known on the Internet website,, would be just a pauper in
this venture. His value was only his ability to tolerate the most
brutal and savage BDSM scenarios ever concocted. There would be no
limits set for his abuse. There would be no end of money for the two
women as a result.
Fiona urged Adam's feet apart and closer to the gurney's back casters
that had been locked to prevent the gurney from rolling. She secured
them with a set of anklecuffs each, shackling them to each side.
Then she asked Adam to place his hands behind his back, to which she
promptly attached a set of handcuffs. A chain was lowered from the
ceiling by a remote control switch on the wall. Fiona took the hook at
the end of the chain and secured it to Adam's handcuffs. Reversing the
chain's motion, she pulled Adam's arms up behind him in a painful,
shoulder socket wrenching position.
“Ow!” cried out the poor boy.
“I'm getting pretty sick of your complaining, baby. Do you want to be
an equal partner with Wendy and me or should I just let you go and try
and get your possessions from that landlord who refuses to let you in
to your friend's flat while he's overseas?”
Adam thought better of what opportunity he had been given by meeting
Fiona and her asking him to participate in hers and Wendy's plan to
take over the Internet porn world by offering a totally interactive,
no holds barred free-for-all where BDSM enthusiasts could act out
vicariously every evil and horrifying thought while Adam was their
online, real time victim. Of course, Adam didn't know that he would
never see a cent of the money raised by the two women, nor did he know
that he would never be released from his Internet hell – NEVER!
Wendy's and Fiona's subscribers could sign-in night and day, seven
days a week, from now until eternity and suggest ANYTHING they could
imagine in their wildest nightmare to happen to the boy. Wendy and
Fiona and their bank of actresses and actors would be available round-
the-clock to satisfy their subscribers' most frightful, atrocious and
vicious demands. While Fiona and Wendy and the actors and actresses
would all work in shifts, helpless Number 28 would never be
unavailable to his fans. He was the constant on which the Internet
Incest and Torture website would be based.
Adam didn't dare answer Fiona. As she strapped a muzzle over his
mouth, he could not anyway.
His torso was hanging in mid-air over the gurney's padded surface.
Fiona took his Johnson and tied it off with tywraps to each thigh,
bending it down painfully between his legs.
Then Fiona went over to an anteroom, a small bathroom equipped with
everything and anything a BDSM enthusiast would need for internal
examinations and or flushings.
She filled the one open-ended bag with cold beer from a refrigerator
that had a tap right in its door. The half-keg inside kept the beer at
a frigid 33 degrees F. This would be much to cold to hold much flavor
to a beer enthusiast, but to a sadistic nurse it represented the ideal
temperature with which to torture her patient. Besides the carbonated
foam would be downright painful as it filled Adam's colon.
She returned and lowered another chain from the ceiling of the
playroom and attached the hook to the beer bag and drew it up almost
ten feet off the floor. Rising seven feet above poor Adam, the height
of the enema bag exceeded all reasonable and recommended limits for
safety. But Fiona did not care about safety. Fiona did not care about
Adam. Fiona only wanted to inflict as much agony as she possibly could
while she videotaped Adam's adventure for the Internet's promotional
advertising.
Fiona double checked the clamp to make sure it was secure before
stuffing Adam's rectum with a long nozzle with a two-inch diameter
ball-like head. True to her word, she taped the tube and secured it to
Adam's cheeks to prevent its accidental expulsion. Of course, the
tape would do nothing to help the poor boy retain the enema itself.
For this, he would need to exercise complete control of his bowels,
otherwise Fiona would proceed to another, more severe internal
punishment. She was already imaging filling the poor boy's ass with a
metal hook and attaching a power supply to it.
Assured that Adam was set and waiting the flood from the ceiling into
his rectum, Fiona carried the other bag over to a paneled area in the
wall. Pushing on it, the panel opened revealing another chamber that
was filled like a pantry. Selecting a bottle of liquid dish soap, two
quarts of vinegar and a box of baking (bicarbonated) soda, Fiona
emptied the vinegar in the enema bag. She proceeded to pour in about a
cup of liquid soap.
Fiona returned with the bag and the box of baking soda. Raising the
bag up so she could empty the powdered soda in at her discretion, she
exchanged the nozzle with a spiral-like long spike. Twisting it up
into Adam's rigid cock, he screamed beneath his muzzle. Of course,
very little was heard by Fiona. Besides, she was fixated on Adam's
bladder and urethral punishment. Once firmly lodged inside his cock,
Fiona went to a shelf and took out a timer. Setting the timer to 90
minutes, she explained to Adam that he would need to hold both the
enema and the douche inside him for the full 90 minutes to avoid some
very unpleasant electrical devices being implanted in his orifices and
energized. She placed the timer right below Adam's face. His bulged
eyes told his story of complete dread and despair.
Then Fiona opened the clamp to the beer enema and its contents coursed
through into Adam's colon. The coldness of the beer was the initial
shock, then he realized the sheer volume of beer that he'd have to
keep inside him and for how long without the “benefit” of an anal
plug.
Fiona then opened the box of baking soda. Pouring its contents into
the douche bag and sealing it, the contents of the bag had nowhere to
go except through the hose and into Adam's cock and bladder. The
mixture of the bicarbonate of soda into the vinegar and soap solution
caused an enormous explosive effect within the bag, swelling it to
nearly six times its ordinary size before flowing down and into Adam.
The force of the explosion into Adam and the creation of a fluid 6x
the original two quarts of vinegar flooded into him causing his
bladder to swell similarly. The pain and agony of the douching coupled
with the freezing misery caused by the enema in his colon forced the
poor boy to stand almost upright before collapsing back into his prone
position over the gurney. Shaking his head from side to side trying
desperately to get Fiona's attention, Adam was frantic. The timer was
sitting at 88 minutes left. There would be no way that he would be
able to retain either of the enema or the douche.
Adam was ready to explode.
Fiona was busy readying her electronic devices and testing the
amperage of her power supply, awaiting the momentary and shocking
foregone conclusion for the poor boy.
Adam
Feb 18, 2012, 5:08:51 PM2/18/12
to august...@googlegroups.com
Man am I a sucker! To still believe that there will be a pay-off down the line when I have already signed over my free will to these women. If anything of mine is to be stuffed by something big and fat, it sure ain't going to be my bank account!
And it's not as though I haven't been warned. That enema/douche was just evil in every way (I have a large bladder, but THREE GALLONS?!). Guess the beer means I'm not teetotal any more. I don' t think it would be possible for me to hold on for 90 seconds, let alone minutes.
Terri Powell
Feb 18, 2012, 8:25:53 PM2/18/12
to august...@googlegroups.com
I need to weave in a coffee enema somehow. Wendy used them often, she says. Tea??? Okay ...
Date: Sat, 18 Feb 2012 14:08:51 -0800
From: adamr...@gmail.com
To: august...@googlegroups.com
Subject: Re: A Place to Stay – The Prep
Date: Sat, 18 Feb 2012 14:08:51 -0800
From: adamr...@gmail.com
To: august...@googlegroups.com
Subject: Re: A Place to Stay – The Prep
Man am I a sucker! To still believe that there will be a pay-off down the line when I have already signed over my free will to these women. If anything of mine is to be stuffed by something big and fat, it sure ain't going to be my bank account!
And it's not as though I haven't been warned. That enema/douche was just evil in every way (I have a large bladder, but THREE GALLONS?!). Guess the beer means I'm not teetotal any more. I don' t think it would be possible for me to hold on for 90 seconds, let alone minutes.
--
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Augustine Art" group.
To view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msg/augustine-art/-/xMKh-cgRKOkJ.
To post to this group, send email to august...@googlegroups.com.
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to augustine-ar...@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/augustine-art?hl=en.
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Augustine Art" group.
To view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msg/augustine-art/-/xMKh-cgRKOkJ.
To post to this group, send email to august...@googlegroups.com.
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to augustine-ar...@googlegroups.com.
For more options, visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/augustine-art?hl=en.
Reply all
Reply to author
Forward
0 new messages