Chapter 41

Kitty.

Have you ever had to take a shower with half your tongue hanging out of your mouth? It’s awkward as fuck. There, I said it again. Fuck.

Not to mention how badly it hurt, but I didn’t dare take it off.

I looked at the box when I got out of the shower. Liquid suppositories. How did I not know about this? I’d cramped and hurt for maybe three minutes, my bowels had moved, and that had been it. Fast. Granted, it probably only cleared the way for an hour or so, but still, it made me mad at Mike all over again for using enemas on me instead of these tiny little things.

I have a coconut oil and shea butter mixture I use on my skin, but he’d brought straight coconut oil in while I showered, so I used it to generously lube my ass. Squatch’s dick is fucking fat. He’s always a challenge to take up the ass, so I stretched myself as well as I could.

When I came out of the bathroom, he was seated on a chair in our little sitting area, and he casually pointed to the floor in front of him. My insides ignited. Lava flowed through my veins. I knew this wasn’t punishment, so there was no fear. If you’d told me a year ago I’d have gotten all hot and bothered at the idea of kneeling naked before a man, I’d have called you crazy.

But here I was, going to my knees, my clit throbbing, my insides clenching.

“Today, I chose the simplest method I know to clean you out. I’ve ordered some supplies. Overnighted them, actually. We’ll proceed to more complicated methods in the coming days. You’re mine. All of you.” He sat back and watched me a few moments. Observing. I felt even more exposed. More naked.

“For the time being, I’m in charge of cleaning you out. You come to me and let me know if you need it and I’m not aware. Eventually, we’ll make this an occasional thing, so it’s back in your hands most of the time, and I only take the reins when it suits me, but for now, I believe we both need me to step in and micromanage this part of your life. So, I am.”

He ran his hand over his face. “I want you to write up the rules you think you need to be living under while you’re micromanaged. I’ll give you forty-eight hours to work on them. I have an idea of what I want to implement, but I’d like to see your version of it before I decide for certain.”

I looked at the floor. “If you come inside me before work, I’ll need to be cleaned out again before I go.”

I couldn’t bear to say the next part out loud, so I said it telepathically. Just a small, quick rinse with water, to make sure I don’t leak.

He froze, as if this wasn’t something he’d considered before. Did he really not know I’d had to do that, when he came inside me thirty minutes before I had to leave for work?

I looked back up, needing to see the expression on his face, but he swiped his hand over it again, erasing whatever look he’d had. “It appears I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I’ll pull out and come on your back today. Easy enough to take care of that with a baby wipe, right?”

I nodded. “Most of my customers are human, and the ones who aren’t know they can’t expect me not to smell of other men. Sir.”

* * * *

Kitty Freckles was in the driveway in a club SUV when I came out of the house. Squatch had fucked my ass and left. He was scheduled to help Khan oversee the club submissive that evening. They could sit in a room and watch the feeds from all three rooms. When two women were working, it could be Khan alone, but when all three rooms were booked, they were supposed to have two people watching, so if one needed to leave to handle a problem in one room, someone was still watching the other two.

He hadn’t shared much of anything with me until he’d given me the vest, but now, he answered most of my questions. Something about his brothers voting me in allowed him to tell me, but he was clear that if I talked, it would be the same as if he talked, and it would mean they’d chain him up and beat him to within an inch of his life.

And when I asked if he’d done that to others in the club, he’d looked down and hadn’t answered. He had, and it tore him up, but it didn’t matter. They lived by a code, and they’d follow it, no matter what. I wouldn’t have understood before I’d hung out with them. Loyalty and honor are big with them, which means a breach in either couldn’t be accepted. It meant the consequences for harming the club or a member, or even putting someone at risk, were brutal.

And it meant if something happened to me when Freckles was supposed to be watching me, he was probably in a world of hurt. So I smiled and didn’t argue when he opened my door and then closed it for me. I also sat in my seat when we arrived, let him open my door before I got out, and then walked inside with him. I wanted to argue that it’d be safe to drive to the door, let me out, and watch me go in.

But no one was on the door yet, and he was supposed to hand me to someone in a cut. So I didn’t argue. I didn’t even make a smart-assed remark asking if Bobcat had to sign something to say I’d been received in working order.

Cutting up with the other women in the dressing room was a relief. It didn’t hurt that my first center stage dance was one of my favorites, either. I start out looking like a dominatrix, whip and all, and end up looking like the perfect submissive, kneeling and crawling. I start in a lot of black leather, including a rip-away fake corset, and thigh-high boots that tear away to just high-heeled black shoes. I end in just the heels and a black thong, with black fabric around my wrists and ankles to simulate cuffs. I left the thong on, but put everything else away in the dressing room before I moved to the side stages. I went out in sparkly heels, and rubbed glitter lotion on my boobs.

When I came down from the stages, I spent most of the next two hours in the back room — lap dance after lapdance. Three men asked about going next door, and I turned the first two down. The first one would’ve been a new customer, so I could rationalize it.

However, I’d gone next door with the second man before. There wasn’t a reason to turn him down, but I’d done so without thinking about it.

This was a job, and I earned good money going next door. If I stopped, I’d earn half as much. That wasn’t acceptable. So, when someone else asked me fifteen minutes later, I asked him what he wanted, told him the price, and then walked next door when he agreed to it.

And I had to fake my orgasm because the whole thing felt icky.

I didn’t go next door again that night. Or the next.

Neither did I talk to Squatch about it, though. I wasn’t ready to agree to stop for good. I wasn’t ready to talk about it.

But, of course, Squatch brought it up the next morning in bed, while he was holding me after my teasing, fun morning spanking. And a few orgasms.

“Bobcat called me last night. Asked if I’d told you to stop going next door.”

“I didn’t tell him you had.”

“I know.”

“I’m not agreeing I’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

And that was it. He dropped it. Shocking, right?

However, a few minutes later, he brought up the next conversation.

“Some of the supplies I ordered arrived yesterday.” All deliveries go to the spa, since they don’t want anyone in the compound who isn’t authorized to be here. That means if something is addressed to him, I won’t know it’s arrived. The spa employees notify the person it’s addressed to.

“And you want to know if there’s a reason I’ll need to clean myself out before going to work?”

“I know you sometimes do, but not always.”

Right, because if I’m working four until four, I’ll take a break and do it around eight or nine that night with a Fleet. I sat up and leaned against the headboard, looking down at him, but I didn’t want the eye contact. I crossed my arms and curled my body in, so I stared at the tops of my thighs.

“I don’t want to talk to you about this.”

“You’re the one who wanted me to take charge. Talk.”

“If I clean myself out at two o’clock and I don’t go next door until ten that night...” I wanted to straighten my spine and look him in the eyes, but I stayed curled in on myself. “It’s better if I take a dinner break around eight or nine. A quick Fleet, empty out, wash my hands, a small meal, pace and walk to get everything moving, back to the bathroom to be sure it’s all gone, baby wipes and then lube myself inside, more baby wipes for the outside, wash my hands again, and then go back to work.”

“Meaning I won’t be able to take charge of that one.”

“Not without making it really awkward, Sir.” I took a breath. “It seemed so important, a few days ago. Like, Mike had owned that part of me, and I needed you to own it. But, the truth is...” I finally sat up straight and met his gaze. “I own it now. He hasn’t been in charge of any part of me for a long time. I took charge of myself when I left the compound.”

He was stretched out on his side, his head propped on his hand, looking up at me. And yet, somehow, he was still the one in charge. I wasn’t being submissive, and he wasn’t being dominant, but the undercurrent was there. I’d given up a portion of my power to him, and it didn’t matter that he wasn’t exercising it at the moment, he was still an alpha male having a conversation with his submissive.

“I’ve appreciated that you were nearly always available for me without...” He rested his free hand on my thigh, and the heat of it sank into the muscles. “Now that I think about it, I’m realizing you probably keep yourself cleaned out more than is healthy.”

I shook my head. “I know about enema dependence, but Mike said as long as I’m changing twice a month, it won’t be a problem. One month, he’d give me a small enema every day I went to him, just enough to clean the lower intestines out. I had to go to the training center three days a week on those months. The alternate months, I went to him five days a week. Every weekday, with weekends off. Every Monday morning, he’d give me a series of enemas, each larger than the one before. It was a marathon session, and he’d keep going until every bit of the water that came out was clean. I was exhausted when he finished, and then he’d only let me drink clear liquids for days. Sweet tea, sports drinks. Oh, and jello. I got enough calories, but the point was that nothing went into my colon for three days, and then I had to eat for a couple of days before...”

I shrugged and crossed my arms again. I didn’t want to talk about this, but if I wanted Squatch to own this part of me, he needed to understand. “Then, the next month, he’d go back to a quick rinse before every session. He told me I’d have to follow whichever method the man I’d been sent to preferred. So, he went back and forth.”

“You were sent to these men to get pregnant. Why was anal even a thing?”

“He said some men prefer anal, so they’d start out that way and then switch to the pussy just before they came. My job was to get them off, their job was to switch to the pussy to come, if they weren’t already there.”

“The supplies I bought were purchased with the goal of making you run clear. I don’t know that I need to take charge indefinitely, but it feels important we do it at least once.” He sat up, pulled me into his lap, and wrapped his arms around me. I melted into him, so happy for the touch. The connection. The acceptance.

“We’ll do it Sunday evening, you’ll get a good night sleep, and then Monday I’m gonna stretch the fuck out of your ass. Probably Tuesday, too.” He kissed the top of my shoulder. “I’m taking control of keeping you clean until then. If you need to manage a quick clean-out at work, you’ll text me and let me know. If you need to do it at home, you’ll let me know a few hours before so I can handle it.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

His arms tightened around me and he held me closer. “You’re mine, Kitten.” Whatever I had to do to be certain we both knew it, I’d do. “Text me when you leave work tonight. Walk in the door and come to the bathroom. Disrobe and await instructions.”