Penelope's Punishment (12 page)

A continuation of the “Submission of Little Emmie.”

“Well, little one, I see we are awake from our nice nap,” said Mrs. Pew. “Let’s get you out of these restraints.”

As a grown woman treated like a little girl, Emmie was never permitted to sleep in her bed without being properly restrained. Her nanny, Mrs. Pew, released the buckle that held her legs and arms in the fetal position. Emmie stretched, but obediently waited until Mrs. Pew allowed her to rise. Mrs. Pew swung Emmie’s legs over the edge of the bed.

“Arms up,” she instructed, pulling Emmie’s pink ruffled nightgown over her head. Grabbing a naked Emmie by the wrist, she led her into the bathing room. Emmie pulled back.

“Nanny, I already had a bath today.”

“Naughty girl,” scolded Mrs. Pew as she gave Emmie a swat on her bare bottom. “It is not for you decide when or how often you get bathed. Now get your impertinent bottom up on your changing table.”

Emmie started to cry. The changing table meant something much worse than just a bath. It meant an enema. She hated the awful, painful things. Nanny and Papa made her suffer through one once a week. She had already had her weekly session two days ago.

“Why, Nanny? Why?” she sniffed as she rubbed under her eyes.

“Oh, you wicked girl! You are determined to be naughty today.” Mrs. Pew dragged Emmie over to a stool by the fire. After sitting down, she placed a struggling Emmie over her lap. “Perhaps a good hard spanking will help you remember your place.” 

Mrs. Pew pulled a long strip of silk from her apron pocket. She placed the blindfold over Emmie’s eyes. His Lordship, her Papa, believed that blindfolding his little one enhanced the punishment. She would have no prior knowledge of what implement was about to be used on her bare bottom. In addition, the darkness would help her focus on the pain of the punishment, thereby increasing the effectiveness of the spanking.

Mrs. Pew then reached for her always handy leather tawse. Aiming for Emmie’s poor sit-spot, Mrs. Pew gave her five stinging smacks. Emmie howled in pain. Squirming on her nanny’s lap, Emmie bit her bottom lip as the hot, pulsing pain settled on her bottom. She knew better than to put her hands back to try to prevent the punishment.

“Please, Nanny. Please stop. I’ll be good,” begged Emmie.

Mrs. Pew harrumphed. “Stuff and nonsense. You have only been punished enough to regret your sass. Another ten smacks should correct your actions.” She focused on Emmie’s upper thighs, five for each. When she stopped, Emmie’s skin glowed a bright red. She made a sobbing Emmie stand before her and removed the blindfold.

“Tell me how your bottom and thighs feel, Emmie.”

Emmie hated this part of the punishment almost as much as the pain. It was humiliating, having to describe how her bottom felt. “It hurts. It’s hot and throbbing.”   

“I trust I will have no more sass from you today?”

“No, Nanny,” whimpered Emmie.

“Up on your changing table,” Mrs. Pew instructed as she looked at the watch pinned to her shirtwaist. “We are already off-schedule.”

Emmie moaned when her sore thighs and bottom made contact with the rubber mat on top of the table. She then turned on her side and then onto her knees. She lowered her chest and placed her head on her elbows, pushing her bottom into the air, as she had been trained. With no preamble, Mrs. Pew wrenched Emmie’s bottom cheeks wide open. Usually, Mrs. Pew would work a well-lubricated finger into Emmie’s bottom hole to prepare her for the enema nozzle. But not today. She placed just the barest amount on the tip of the nozzle, to prevent it from tearing her delicate skin. Emmie knew something was different the moment she felt the hard tapered edge press against her bottom hole.     

“Naughty girls don’t get lubricant,” warned Mrs. Pew.

“No, no, no,” whined Emmie as she shifted her bottom, trying to get away from the harsh intrusion. The movement earned her a quick smack to her already reddened bottom.

“Stay still.” 

Mrs. Pew slowly worked the tapered nozzle into Emmie’s bottom. His Lordship had been preparing his little one’s bottom hole for his cock over the past week with nightly rectal plugs. Emmie’s constricted sensitive ring gave more easily than usual. Mrs. Pew smiled, pleased the training was working.    

Emmie cringed as she felt the foreign object force its way deep into her bottom. Her puckered hole spasmed as it tried to force the nozzle out. She could feel the scrape of the nozzle on her sensitive skin more than usual without the comforting slide of the lubricant. Emmie rocked forward as Nanny gave the nozzle one final push, securing it deep within her.

Mrs. Pew pushed the hose into the nozzle and checked the enema bag, which was filled with two quarts of warm soapy water. Then she waited. In addition to always insisting on two quarts, his lordship also instructed Mrs. Pew to wait several minutes before beginning the enema. He felt the wait increased Emmie’s awareness of what was about to happen and helped focus her attention on her bottom.

Emmie braced herself, knowing the horrible click was coming but not knowing when. When it finally happened it was a strange combination of relief and foreboding. The warm rush of water was at first oddly comforting, but then the pressure built. As more and more water pushed into her bottom, the irritating soap caused muscle spasms and cramping. Emmie groaned as she struggled to keep her hips still.      

“It’s time to start your tummy massage,” said Mrs. Pew. “We need to make sure the soapy water is doing its job.” Mrs. Pew pushed hard against Emmie’s tummy, massaging her entire abdomen.

“Oh, Nanny. It makes it worse,” cried Emmie as the cramps increased from the added pressure of Nanny’s hands.

“We need to make sure you are nice and clean for Papa tonight. Now you are going to hold the soapy water up your bottom for a good fifteen minutes.”

“What happens tonight, Nanny?” asked Emmie.

“Tonight is the night your Papa is going to put his cock up your bottom,” answered Mrs. Pew matter-of-factly.

“I don’t want his cock up my bottom,” cried Emmie. “I hate those awful plugs and his cock will be worse!”

“Hush now,” scolded Mrs. Pew. “This is not about what you want. Besides, your Papa knows best.”

Mrs. Pew finished Emmie’s enema and put her straight into a bath. She curled Emmie’s hair and tied it up in pretty pink bows. After a modest dinner in the nursery, Mrs. Pew put Emmie into her prettiest sheer nightgown, the hem barely reaching her upper thighs.

“Don’t you look adorable!” exclaimed Mrs. Pew. “Time to go to Papa’s bedroom.” She led a reluctant Emmie out of the nursery and down the hall.

##

Richard entered the darkened bedroom, lit only by the glow of the fireplace. He walked over to the mantle and grabbed the small candelabra. Lighting each taper by the flames from the fire, he approached the bed. Per his instructions, Emmie’s hands had been restrained to the headboard. She was nestled among the covers and pillows on her tummy, asleep. The bottom of her bare cheeks peeked out from the ruffled hem of her nightgown. Richard cupped one globe, feeling her cool skin against his warm hand. Emmie slowly came awake as she felt the gentle caress on her bottom.

“Papa?” she asked, sleepily.

“Yes, little one?”

As she shook off her sleep haze, the pending events of the evening came back to her. Emmie started to cry.

“Papa, I’m scared. I know it’s going to hurt.”

“I know, baby, but what does Papa always say?”

“After pain comes pleasure,” Emmie reluctantly whispered.

Cupping her chin and forcing her gaze to meet his, he asked, “And isn’t Papa always right?  Well, Emmie?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good girl.” Richard patted her exposed bottom. “Up on your knees,” he commanded. Emmie obeyed. Richard placed several pillows under Emmie’s tummy and against her knees to keep her in position. Richard sat on the bed behind her. He reached for her bottom cheeks and gently spread them open. He could see her tiny puckered hole, which was usually closed tight, was gaping open slightly. The rectal plugs and enema having weakened the protective muscle ring. He blew on the opening and watched as her rosebud trembled and flexed.

“Tell Papa to kiss your bottom hole.”

“Please no, Papa,” whined Emmie.

Richard released one butt cheek only to give it a resounding smack. He could see the red imprint of his hand on her pale, white skin. Emmie yelped and pulled at her wrist restraints. He gave her cheek another smack, blurring the hand mark into an angry red glow.

“Please…please kiss my bottom hole,” sobbed Emmie.

“Please kiss my bottom hole, who?”

Please kiss my bottom hole, Papa.”

“Good girl.” He placed a chaste kiss over her quivering rosebud.

“Now Papa is going to place the tip of his tongue in your bottom. I want you to push back till you can feel my tongue inside of you. You are going to fuck your bottom on my tongue till you cum. Do you understand, little one?”

“Yes, Papa,” responded a humiliated Emmie. This was not the first time, Papa made her cum with his tongue in her bottom. She hated the fact it felt so good while feeling so wrong.

Richard swirled his tongue around the outer ring before pushing the tip into her opened rosebud. A dutiful, Emmie pushed back. She groaned as his tongue swirled in and out of her bottom in rhythm with her rocking motions. It did not take long for her to feel a rush of sensation overwhelm her. She threw her head back with a scream as she came.

“Good girl,” said an approving Richard reaching for the jar of ointment on the table. Emmie scrunched her eyes closed as she heard the dreaded sound of the jar lid unscrewing. “Now, it’s Papa’s turn.”

Once she was accustomed to him regularly taking her bottom, Richard would use her own cream as a lubricant. He liked that it would allow him to slide into her bottom but not provide too much cushion. He wanted her to feel every wide inch of his cock. However, for her first time, he would use a generous amount of ointment to help ease the way.

Regardless the first intrusion was going to hurt. She was so tiny back there. Over the past week, she had barely been able to endure the smallest plug. His cock was much longer and thicker.

Emmie felt a small shock as a cold glob of ointment was pressed against her now sensitive bottom hole. Richard swirled the lubricant around her entrance till it glistened before pushing two fingers inside. He scissored and twisted them, loosening the muscle further. Emmie moaned, not liking the unfamiliar pressure and movement in such an intimate place. The moment he pulled his fingers free, her puckered hole closed, but not fully. There was a small gap. Richard smiled, she was as ready as she was going to be.

He grasped his cock with his right hand, using the residual ointment to coat the tip and thick shaft. Still keeping a firm grip on her buttock with his left, he positioned the head of his cock against her tiny back entrance.

Emmie let out a sob of fear as she knew the moment was at hand. She tried one more time to convince him not to violate her this way.

“Please don’t Papa,” she tearfully begged. “I’ll put your cock in my mouth like a good girl, just please don’t put it up my bottom.”

“Hush, little one. You want to please Papa don’t you?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Well, nothing will please your Papa more than taking your tiny bottom,” he responded as he gave a small thrust. The head pushed against her rosebud, widening it slightly. Instinctively, Emmie clenched down, but the lubricant worked against her. Richard gave another harder push and the head slid past her constricted muscle ring. He watched in satisfaction as her bottom closed around the crown of his cock, gripping it tightly. Her puckered entrance became smooth as he slowly pushed more of his wide length into her bottom. He let go of his cock and grabbed her other butt cheek. Pulling them both open wide, he thrust his hips, watching as her helpless bottom was forced to swallow his cock.

Emmie could feel his balls swing against her cunny as she felt his hips connect with the fleshy globes of her bottom. Papa’s cock was buried deep inside of her. She started to breath heavy as sharp stings of pain radiated from her bottom up her spine. Her stomach started to cramp. Emmie was in agony. She wanted his cock out of her body but instinctively knew that if he moved it would hurt worse.

“I’m so scared, Papa. It hurts so bad,” she sobbed.

Richard caressed her lower back. “Just breathe through the pain, baby. I’m going to start to move.”

“No! No, please, no,” cried a panicked Emmie.

Ignoring her pleas, Richard pulled back his hips. He slowly retreated from her body, the ridge of his cock caught on her tight entrance. He paused, closing his eyes, letting the pleasure of her body’s pulsing, fitted grip on his cock rush over him.

“Papa’s going to fuck your bottom now, baby. I need you to be a brave girl and take it because I won’t stop no matter how much you cry.”

Emmie wailed in fear and pain as he ruthlessly thrust straight to the hilt, then relentlessly repeated the motion, over and over again. She choked on her own sobs as her body was violated for his own pleasure. The pain never ceased, even as her back entrance opened wider for his assault. Richard thrust faster as he neared his climax.