Escape From Paradise

“Don’t move,” he said. He removed his suit jacket and handed it off. Then I felt his fingertip slowly circling the bud of my anus with lubricant.

I tried to say, “No,” but it came out as a low moan with the gag in my mouth. I shook my head. He landed a warning smack to the side of my hip, a spot that hadn’t been harmed by the belt. I bit down hard and stilled, fighting back the stinging behind my eyes. Marco’s voice was clear and matter-of-fact.

“Never tell me no. I will do with you what I please, and you will take it. If you’re smart you’ll also learn to enjoy it.”

His finger pushed in halfway and I sucked in a breath at the stretching invasion. He gave a low hiss and whispered in Spanish. “So tight…”

To me, in English, he said in a stern voice, “You are compacted, Angel. You must take better care of your body. Do you understand?”

I nodded, but I loathed that he was bringing up my personal business, prodding me like he’d palpate an animal.

“I know all that happens in my home, Angel. All that goes on with my slaves.” He turned his head and called, “Perla. The enema.”

Enema?!

I hadn’t known Perla was in the room. She came to my side and gently pushed my shoulders down as Marco removed his finger.

“To your elbows,” she said, molding me so that my upper body was close to the floor and my bottom stuck up in the air. “You feel better after.”

Something plastic touched my butt hole and I dropped my hips with a whimper, clenching my muscles. Perla and Marco both grabbed for my hips, pulling them back up.

“Don’t move,” Perla gently warned. The plastic piece pressed in, and to my relief it was small, a thin nozzle. Then a cold, rushing feeling entered my bowels, causing an almost immediate bout of cramping inside me. I groaned and curled my body tighter as my stomach contracted. They were going to force me to shit. In front of them. This was the ultimate gross shame. I moaned, wanting to die and disappear. Perla rubbed my upper back, but Marco stopped her, speaking in Spanish.

“Don’t comfort her. She must learn.”

After another minute of the cold solution coursing into me, a horrible overwhelming need to use the restroom overcame me. I raised my head, breathing faster and making urgent little sounds.

“Here,” Perla said. She motioned to a bucket against the wall.

The dreaded fucking bucket.

My momentary horror was overridden by another painful stomach cramp. I crawled in a rush to the container. Perla dropped her eyes, but Marco, Luis, and another of Marco’s gigantic lackeys watched me as by body expunged its contents.

It was the most awful, degrading moment of my life. The skin on my backside shouted its anger, so I tried to hold myself up, grasping the sides of the bucket. Another wave of cramping came and I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing myself when I felt a tear slip from my eye. Without hesitation, Marco’s big man whacked the side of my face with his open palm, effectively drying my tears and nearly throwing me off the bucket.

Everything I thought I knew about myself and life, all of my views, shifted and changed in that room on that day. Ideas of privacy and entitlement and freedom slipped away. The meanings of strength and weakness morphed and failed to matter anymore. All that mattered was survival with minimal pain. Maybe pain made some people feel alive, but not me. Pain made me feel hated and ashamed, like a dog tucking its tail when its master kicked it. If survival without pain meant obeying, that’s what I would do.

When I was finally done my arms shook from holding myself up.

“Stand,” Marco said.

I pushed myself, wobbling and unable to stand straight from the leftover pain in my abdomen and backside. He pulled the bandana down from my mouth and caressed my jaw with his thumb.

“What would you like to say to me, Angel?”

Twenty-four hours ago I would have thought of all sorts of cutting things I’d like to say to him, but with the shape I was in all I felt was glad that my punishment was over, and a deep desire to be in his good graces. My answer was immediate. “I’m sorry I disappointed you…Master. I’m sorry I cried.”

He gave me a brief, warm, affectionate smile.

“Take her back to the quarters and have her clean herself and the bucket,” Marco said.

With Luis on one side of me and Perla on the other, I walked naked out of the room, holding the bucket, my head lowered in absolute humility.

When we entered the quarters I went straight to the bathroom, ignoring the stare from Josef and the malicious giggle from Jin when she whispered, “Mira el culo!” Look at her ass!

Why did she hate me?

“I remember yours looking like that once.” Josef teased her in Spanish and Jin laughed.

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