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Following the yacht cruise to Alaska.

He took the hair from my head and then from my cunt and I gave it willingly. If I seemed to be eeking out pleasure from the experience, if he noted any wetness between my legs, He would leave tufts of hair in random spots on my head to destroy any sense of vanity I may have had left. When He was finished and my head was smooth and clean, He took the razor to my cunt, often nicking my tender flesh, leaving small dots of blood on my clean pink skin. It was always done as I watched in the floor length mirror, and I was always left to stare at myself as I was reflected back in the shiny glass for half an hour or more before he would release my sore wrists and aching muscles from the retraints.

He began to control what I ate next, sometimes forcing me to gorge myself until I felt sick to my stomach, sometimes only allowing me to eat once a day. He placed a plate before me and I was expected to eat what it contained, no matter how much or how little, until it was gone. And then He made me lick whatever remained on the white ceramic surface until it shone like my head and cunt.

Once He controlled what I ate, He began to control my bowels.

I was no longer allowed to evacuate my bowels myself. I wore the plug in my ass until He removed it. Once it was removed, He had me lay on the bed with my ass in the air, my face and bald head resting on a soft pillow at an odd angel as He clipped the red enema bag to the hooks He had installed in the ceiling above my bed for just that purpose. He secured my wrists to the headboard and prepared my ass for insertion. If He was feeling generous, He would use His fingers, massaging my tight hole with lubricant until it flexed and begged for the tube to be placed inside. If He was not feeling generous, He shoved the unlubricated tube into my ass with force and anger. The bag held up to two gallons of water, and again, depending on His mood, He filled it accordingly. The best days were when it held less than a gallon of warm sudsy water. I had been able to hold that much in me without much pain. The worst days were when He filled it with ice cold water, two gallons of it. The attack on my insides on those days brought me close to passing out.

Today He had been upset with me. I had spoken out of turn in the bedroom. He had been using my clit for his own pleasure, stroking it, as I sucked on His fingers. I moaned and said, "Yes," without being told I could speak.

As soon as I uttered that single word, it hung in the air between us. He withdrew His body from mine and said, "You will have to be punished."

It had been five days since He had last allowed me to have a bowel movement, so I was almost grateful.

Without instruction, I turned over and placed my hands above my head, my ass high in the air, already reaching out for the red bag of relief.

He bound my wrists silently then left the room with the enema bag.

When He returned with full bag, the tube was clamped halfway down and as He hung the torture device above us, it swung back and forth, taunting me. He next rotated the plug in my ass, the thick bulbous end opening my hole wide and giving me unexpected pleasure. When he saw me move with his motions, He yanked it out and lay it on the bed next to my face. Then He pulled the tube, which was easily and inch larger in diameter than before, toward me and inserted it into my ass without apology. Because we had been sexually engaged prior to the punishment, my ass was wet with juices from my clit and it did not hurt as badly as it had in the past. He pushed a good five inches of the tube into my ass before He felt resistance. I noted the coldness of the tube in my hole and I knew the water was going to be an assault. I clenched my ass cheeks as He released the clamp and the freezing water began to seep into me. I fought the urge to cry out.

He stood on the bed over me and shook His head in disappointment.

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