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	L ast week, I decided to show my slave him some of the useful tricks I've picked up along the way. First, I handcuffed his wrists, and secured them behind his back. Ankles cuffed together. In case he squeals too much, a nice leather gag - the kind with the stuffed leather pouch that fills the entire mouth - strapped around his head. Isn't that precious? Then I took my leash, looped it around the two sets of cuffs and threaded it through the handle. Pulled tight, my slave's dick and balls helplessly thrust forward, he is hog-tied and looks very pretty. And for the well-dressed masochist: fits like a glove but feels like a vise: a lovely new cock and ball restraint. This one is made of soft kid with laces that tightly draw the balls away from the dick and make the dick stand up rather ridiculously. The head is left exposed. This way, as the evening proceeds, all kinds of pleasant activity may ensue. We can flick the head with a fingernail; pinch it hard; spank it with a riding crop; or just for fun, press a piece of ice against it, followed by a hot coffee. Or maybe just a dash or two of hot salsa? My slave never struggles, but he does enjoy his punishment. By tugging hard on the leash, I caused him to topple onto the floor. Then once he was prone and on his back, I pushed the knees apart so that his asshole was completely exposed. This presented me with a number of options. Sometimes I like to make him wear a butt-plug to please me. Sometimes, a vibrator is just right. This time, however, it was a special occasion. I'd noticed that my slave had been a little more rebellious of late, and I decided he could use an extra bit of discipline to keep him in line. So, I went and got the enema bag. When my slave saw what I had in hand, he started moaning and protesting inside his gag. I kept asking him, "Do you have anything to say?" but the gag muffled all his words, so I said, "Oh, I guess nothing you feel like articulating!" I prefer to use scented water for lads (makes 'em feel like ladies). Coffee sometimes works well, but can get the poor things a little too perky for their own good. So, after filling the enema bag, I added rosepetals and chamomile. Then I removed the gag briefly, pinched my slave's nostrils, and made him taste the brew. Before he did, he started to protest. So I went back into the kitchen and got the jar of salsa and showed it to him. He immediately got quiet, lowered his eyes, and obediently drank a little from his enema bag. But, since he had been so naughty, I decided to forego the lubricant this time. I just inserted the bare nozzle up his anus, as he wiggled in discomfort. Within minutes the 2-quart bag was emptied into his bowels. I could tell that the cramping had already begun by the little whimpers I could hear from under the gag and the pretty way he moved his ass around. Now here's where the dominant shows some imagination. I was doing all this in the bedroom, which is a good ways from the bathroom. I didn't have the butt-plug handy to replace the enema hose. Well, to let the slave relieve itself all over the floor creates an unsightly mess. It's too disgusting to stay in the room once the carpet's all shitted, so who'll unlock the cuffs at the session's end? I couldn't get him into the bathroom tied up like that, and besides, he couldn't exactly sit on a toilet either, hogtied as he was. A hospital potty adapted for women is an excellent idea, but someone as full of shit as this submissive will quickly overflow the receptacle. In these cases, a bit of yankee ingenuity helps. Know those trash bags Hefty Hefty Hefy? I figured a Truth-in-Advertising experiment was in order to see whether they live up to their reputation. I secured the edges with plenty of medical tape (painful, but just about right when it's pulled off the pubic and anal areas at the end of the session). Right before I finished taping it in place, I pulled the nozzle out of my slave's ass. Then I removed the gag from his mouth, and stood back to watch. His eyes had become incredibly submissive, even though his face was crimson with shame. The unmistakable sounds of expulsion made him all the more embarrassed, especially since Mistress was standing above him, watching intently, and smiling. When he finally stopped, after almost half an hour, I released him from his chains. Then I commanded him to take the bag to the toilet, dump the contents, clean himself, and launder the bag for re-use. Meanwhile, I supervised all the procedings, with crop in hand. By the time he was finally finished he was bursting out of his cock restraint, and the head was almost purple. He threw himself at my feet, kissing them feverishly, and begged for permission to serve me in some way. So I let him serve me by spending the rest of the day on his knees, while I intermittently whipped him with my crop and my quirt. With slaves like this, you need enemas.
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