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Tales of the Cabal: Protecting the Mistress
by Tigger
Copyright 1999, All Rights Reserved.

Archiving and reposting of this work is permitted only on
sites where *no* fee (including so-called adult checks) of any
type is charged and provided that my authorship, the story
itself and this statement of rights are included and are
unchanged.

This story is based on the Cabal as I developed it in one of
my first stories, "Domination Games."  This story is archived
at the Nifty Archive.

Url:  www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender/by_authors/Tigger/

The file is Domination-Games.html

***********

Protecting the Mistress
by Tigger

Part 24: Nursery Games

Mary sat alone in her suite at the lodge, quietly, coldly
furious.  Against all odds, Gerald had almost made it.  He'd
been spanked, paddled, tickled, teased and generally tormented
to distraction for almost the entire two hours and he'd almost
made it. He'd kept his concentration and had somehow held out
for the whole scheduled session. She could have counted the
number of grains of sand left in the top of the glass on one
hand.  

Freda, damn her black soul, had literally gut-punched Gerry
right on top of his bladder with the sharp point of her elbow. 
Damn the bitch, anyway. The combination of the sudden added
pressure on his bladder and the painful shock from the blow
had shattered his last reserves of control.  

Once the flow started, there was nothing he could do to stop
it. A surprisingly powerful column of water had erupted from
his tormented penis.  The length and duration of that fountain
had been impressive.  Hell, the damned audience had applauded
him for that as much or more than they had for the
"successful" completion of the second phase of the scene.

Of course he hadn't come either, even though she and Freda had
teased his penis mercilessly throughout the two-hour scene. 
He'd certainly been erect throughout the session, but it had
only been a "pee hard-on" which had made him physiologically
unable to climax.  Nothing like a painfully overfilled bladder
to block off the semen flow, but that was the whole point of
that particular play scenario anyway.  He was *supposed* to
wet himself and spend the rest of their visit being worked
over and tested by Freda.  Now, she wished she had been able
to get him off.  

Well, until and unless Gerry safe worded Freda, she was going
to be stuck alone in this room - unless someone decided to
take mercy on her and drop by for a visit.  God, she wished
Gemma had minded her own damned business.

Still, if things went well, there were other good lessons to
be learned in this scene.  Who knows, she mused, maybe Gerry
would be able to relax once he was in private and play again. 
The scenario called for the "baby" to be allowed to crawl
about, be made to play with baby toys and other silly things. 
Gemma was superb at getting the sub into the game as nanny,
but they couldn't use her since she was already well known to
Gerry.  Hopefully, Freda would be as good for all her
reputation.  She knew what was expected.

And there were the other, less pleasant but still very
important lessons that Gerry would have to absorb before the
scene was over.  Mary just hoped there would be sufficient
playfulness for him to balance the humiliation of those other
lessons.

Thank God she had ordered him to use his safe word and not be
stupidly brave about this.  At least he knew she wanted him to
do so, regardless of the potential consequences.  The whole
point of that bondage scene two weeks ago, besides getting him
to stay open to her in the presence of an "audience," was to
show him that he could safe word without repercussions.

Mary really wanted to go home.

~-----------~

So did Gerald.

Gerald's trip back to the "nursery" was distinctly
uncomfortable.  In addition to the bloody baby-restraint
system and the jawbreaking ring gag, Gerald had a knot the
size of a grapefruit in his lower abdomen from Freda's little
shot to his gut.  Almost as bad as the hurt was the stench. 
When he'd lost control, not all of the escaping urine had made
it to the floor.  A substantial quantity of that flood was now
soaking the "bedding" of this baby cart from hell.

Rationally, as in the previous congregation scene, Gerald had
never expected to be allowed to "win" Mistress Mary's little
wager, and yet, he was disappointed that he had not won. 
Dammit, he fumed silently, he had almost made it.  Just a few
grains of sand to go, a mere handful of seconds, and he would
have made it.  He'd seen the surprise in Mary's eyes as she
too realized that he had won.  And then Freda, pretending to
slip on one of her high heeled boots, had given him an elbow
drop to the gut that would have done Hulk Hogan proud.

That was all she wrote.  There was absolutely no doubt that
she had done it on purpose, but it didn't really matter.  Very
little happened in this place that was not intentional. 
Besides, Mary had intended this to be his fate, so other than
a very bad stomachache, nothing much had really changed.  At
least the pressure on his bladder was relieved.

Once inside the nursery, Freda began setting out what she
wanted to use for the next few hours.  Some of that stuff,
Gerald recognized.  Diapers, especially adult-sized diapers,
were hard to miss, as were the various implements of corporal
correction.  Some of it, he could not figure out at all, and
that bothered him.

Well, he was not going to go hide.  This *was* a Mary
scenario, so there had to be something positive about it -
just like there had been in the serving wench scene once he'd
let his guard down enough to let the Dommes come inside and
play. 

With that realization, Gerald forced himself to relax.  He
would have smiled if the gag had permitted it.  He put his
trust in Mary's caring and understanding, and opened himself
to whatever the austerely garbed Domme had in store for him.

Humming a silly lullaby, Freda slipped the diaper under his
buttocks and proceeded to powder him thoroughly.  At least it
was real baby powder and not some type of itching-irritant
powder.  She hung a small rubber bag, about a short pint's
size from what Gerald could see of it, from a hanger above her
head.

Gerald's eyes went wide as he watched her connect a tube with
a pinch clamp to the bag and then fill it with water.  No, by
god, his mind screamed, not that.  He'd surrendered control of
his bladder to Mistress Mary, publicly in fact, but there was
no way in hell he was going to surrender that to this female.

"Aaaa errr" he shouted, the infernal ring gag garbling the
sound of any letter that required closing of the mouth or
lips.  Freda just looked at him, and then continued her
preparations.  "AAAAAA ERRRRR!" Gerald screamed, trying to
bite through the damned hard rubber ring so that he could get
out the missing "s", "f", "w" and "d" sounds to make "aaaa
errrr" into "safe word."

It did not work.

Christ, he fumed, what the hell good was his promise to safe
word if he couldn't signal the damned safe word? Couldn't
Freda tell what he was trying to say?  Wasn't she an
experienced enough domina to know how "safe word" would sound
under these circumstances, even through this infernal gag? 
Mary could, and had done so with him several times in their
relationship.  And when she wasn't sure, she fucking asked!

Having finished her setup, Freda turned back to Gerald.  In
her hand was a nozzle affixed to the end of the tubing
extending from the bottom of the enema bag.  Two squeeze tubes
connected to the nozzle and dangled on either side of her
hand.

The bungee cords made it easy for her to gain access to
Gerald's anal aperture.  He couldn't really lower or
straighten his legs to any real degree.  Gerald felt the cool
slick feeling of lubricant sliding in between cheeks of his
butt, and went mad.

Using every ounce of strength and determination, he began
moving about frantically, at least as much as the restraints
permitted.  Freda tried to insert the nozzle, but missed each
time.  Unfortunately for Gerald, the effort to fight the
elastic restraints was just too much.  Freda kept jabbing, but
it quickly became obvious to him that she was letting him wear
himself out.

Finally, exhaustion won, and Gerald lost.  Panting, his
muscles screaming for oxygen, he waited for the enema tube to
slide into his body.  Grim faced and obviously furious, Freda
set down the nozzle and picked up the cane she had carried
when she had first fetched him from Mary's suite.

"Bad boy!" she taunted.  "Nanny is going to clean you out, you
naughty boy."  She pushed up on his feet with one hand, the
bungee restraints aiding in that, and brought the cane
slashing down across his defenseless bottom.

Gerald screamed through the gag, the force of his shriek
making his own throat hurt.  He had not even finished that
first scream when Freda struck again . . . and again, until he
had taken six of the best. 

Her face flushed, and her eyes burning with an emotion that
truly frightened Gerald, Freda bent over and got into his
face.  "Now, I am going to give you that enema, and you are
going to be a good boy and not fight me.  Fight me, and you
will get double what you just got, fight me again and it will
double again.  Eventually, you will give in, little boy.  It's
up to you.  As for me, I'd just as soon beat your ass as look
at you."

Utterly defeated, Gerald tried one last time.  His eyes fixed
on her, he ground out "Aaaaa Errrr!"

Shaking her head as if she did not understand, Freda said. 
"Nod your head yes or no, boy.  Yes means you are going to be
good and take your enema, and no means you want more of my
pretty little cane across those hairless little boy cheeks of
yours."

Closing his eyes, Gerald nodded.  He was trapped, his only way
out of here was somehow denied to him.  By Mary's decree? No,
he'd never believe that.  Hell, she'd *ordered* him to use it.

The violation of Gerald's rectum was accomplished quickly and
without any more fuss.  He felt the fullness inside and the
tightness outside his anal ring as the two air bladders were
filled with air.

"Now, here it comes, little boy." Freda cooed as she released
the hose clamp.

Liquid fire flowed into Gerald's guts.  It was hot, and yet,
it was more than just hot.  It was like there was a chemical
burn to it as well.  "I made it good and soapy so we can
really clean you out."

Gerald was sobbing, crying openly with the last of the fluid
spilled into him, but Freda made no move to stop or even to
remove the now empty enema kit.  Instead, she began kneading
his lower stomach muscles, forcing the hot fluid into every
nook and cranny of Gerald's intestines.  Then, she simply
waited, watching him as the pressure inside him built, as he
strained to control the overwhelming and painful need to empty
his bowels.

After what seemed like eternity, Freda moved back to his
bottom.  He heard the hiss of the bladders deflating and felt
some of the fullness and pressure subside - at least briefly. 
Moments later, the nozzle was gone and Freda was pinning the
diaper to him.

"Nap time, little boy," she smirked, giving him a none-too-
gentle buffet to his straining lower abdomen.  "Sleep well.  I
will bring you your bottle in a couple of hours.  Nitey
night," and she turned the lights in the little cubicle out
and left him alone.

It was only a matter of time, he thought grimly.  Removing the
nozzle had only been a momentary respite - the pressure and
the pain began building back up almost immediately.  He could
fight it, and lose control in fifteen or twenty minutes -
maybe as much as almost an hour - but in the end, he was going
to lose control and mess the diaper.  And then he'd be stuck
wearing the shitty thing until Freda returned.  On the other
hand, he could just let go and accept the inevitable.  That
would relieve one problem, but might cause others.  He really
did not want to think what that hot, soapy waste would do to
the welts Freda's cane had cut into his butt.  And the sooner
he let go, the longer that stuff would have to eat into him.

Gerald set about holding out as long as he could.  That was
not nearly enough, however, and Gerald had a very long wait
before Freda finally returned.

Only, when Freda did return, it was with another bottle of
that damned water for him to drink or choke on, but she did
not bother changing his soiled diaper.

End Part 24


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