"Kneel in front of the mirror," I order, my voice echoing theatrically in the big bathroom.

Travis's reflected erection flags at once. He suspects, and he doesn't want it.

When she loaned me her boy-toy for the weekend, Judy explained the routine for any misbehavior: "Punish him right away. He knows the rules. No warnings, no empty threats."

If he'd lied to his Mistress Judith like he did to me, she'd beat him with a strap. He's getting off easy.

Nevertheless I steel myself for his ordeal. You're not nice Kathy Aubrey, I lecture, but Mistress Kathryn, impervious to the likes and dislikes of all the handsome young men, even this one with the lifeguard body, toffee curls in the same color palette as his light tan, the wonderfully white buttocks rivaled only by the smile. That alone should be enough to make it good.

For me, anyway. "So Mistress Judith gives you an enema when she wants to humiliate you," I begin coolly. "Although you say you detest it, you let her because your own cooperation adds to the humiliation. Even if you do hate enemas, I bet you love the way they make you feel."

Via the glass, defiant green eyes glare at me.

"Emotionally," I clarify. "Utterly submissive."

Bingo. He studies the bathroom tiles, his head drooping like his cock.

I doubt that he understands the power his humiliation gives the mistress, and the way that power feels. I'm so wet I practically squirm. "The bag must hold two quarts. Does she fill it all the way? The truth."

"Yes, ma'am." His penis moves. Growing or shrinking?

"What with?"

Tawny green eyes meet mine in the mirror. "Just warm water, Mistress Kathryn. Except one time she mixed it with flat Dom Perignon. I got really drunk, too."

I've never tasted the expensive champagne, but Judy would get a kick out of squirting such a precious beverage into Travis's perfect bottom. "She also gives you one when she thinks you should be clean everywhere, you said. When is that?"

He clears his throat noisily, then replies, "When she wants to use the dildo or a strap-on. She doesn't like it when she puts in something clean and it comes back--not clean."

"That's understandable." I envision his distress at both the enema and the embarrassing reason for it, and find myself further aroused.

"Please, if you knew how much I hate it--"

But I do! "I'm surprised Judy doesn't use it as punishment."

Travis exhales through his nose. It's a good nose, short and straight, with a nice flare to the nostrils when he's upset. "She does," he admits, almost whispering.

"Is there any difference between the way she does it normally and the way she punishes you?"

"Yes," he says softly.

"Yes?" I prompt. "How many times do I have to tell you to elaborate?"

He drops his eyes and mumbles in the direction of his penis, which is definitely on the rise. "Yes, Mistress Kathryn, there's a difference. When it's to punish me it's only half as much water, but hotter, with a big squirt of soap."

"What kind?"

His cheeks are pink, and his cock has revived fully despite his embarrassment. Because of it? Probably. He apparently endures a great deal of discomfort and some genuine suffering in exchange for the pleasure of being made to feel this humiliated.

"Dish soap, something dark blue. It's real irritating," he says, his eyes on his growing manhood. "I can barely, ah, control myself. This one time when I was getting the punitive kind, I was afraid I might--I made a run for the bathroom and locked the door. That really pissed her off, because there's no key. When I came out, she used the strap on me."

"Did you enjoy that?" I know the answer.

"God, no! It's awful! Next day she was late coming home from work. I waited for her naked, on my knees like I am now, right in front of the door to the apartment, for almost an hour. She likes that, even though I'm always afraid somebody coming up the stairs will see me when she opens it. She took me straight to the bathroom."

He sighs. "She was late because she stopped to buy a butt plug. 'Now you're going to really be punished,' she said, like the strap that had me crying and begging the night before was nothing. Anyway, I lost count of how many soapy enemas she gave me, but she'd shove the plug in and make me wait ten minutes, watching me. I don't know what hurt worse, the plug or my stomach. My body was trying to get the water out and couldn't. My gut knotted so bad I cried." With an apologetic half-grin, he shrugs.

Judy did that?

"After the ten minutes, she'd leave while I, ah, relieved myself. Then she'd give me another one, right away. I remember Leno was on when she said that was enough to teach me not to get up. Even after she gave me two regular enemas to rinse, I felt queasy." He shakes his head. His hard cock swings slightly, too.

I'm so confused! If it was as horrific as it sounds, why is he erect on the retelling?

His mouth tightens in a wry smile. "That night the big dildo went in easy."

"But since you lied about getting enemas," I tell him, watching his face in the mirror, "I'm going to punish you with an enema. Of course." 'Of course'! I can't quite believe I'm doing this.

His eyebrows lift his forehead in worried ridges. "Of course," he echoes faintly. A drop of pre-cum forms at his slit. "Please, just..." He looks up again, his eyes begging.

I wish I knew what they were begging for! I wait just a moment, feigning impatience, and make myself blurt, "Please just what?"

He shakes his head but doesn't answer.

"'Please just punish my lying ass'?" I suggest. "Here, put a dab of the K-Y where it'll do the most good."

His ears turn pink as he obeys.

"Bend a little forward now, Travis. Good, now reach back and hold yourself open. Yes, but wider. Show me that anus." Travis's neck and ears flame redder than his rosy pucker. I turn on the water in the tub and test its temperature with my hand. Perfect. I fill the enema bag half way, pretending I don't see Travis surreptitiously watching in the mirror as I hang it and squirt a little water into the tub, displacing any air in the hose. Judy says that's important.

Although the nozzle goes in easily, he flinches. When I release the catch, the tube emits a deceptively small gurgle.

In the mirror, his eyes open wide. "Oh, Jesus! It's cold..." He turns his handsome face over his shoulder to complain directly. "It hurts!"

"Turn around. Mistress Judith told me a little cold water won't hurt you."

"She lied!"

"I'm not concerned with her lies, just yours."

"Oh, please, Mistress Kathryn, stop! I'm sorry!"

"I imagine you are." I savor his words, his tone, his misery, then feel guilty for it. "You remember your safety word?"

"Yes," he whines, trembling all over. The hose conveying this painful, yet harmless, discipline quivers with it. I watch with relish, aware that my lower lips grow slick--and that his penis stands erect despite his protest.

His eyes squinted tightly shut, Travis moans behind gritted teeth. More than once his exposed anus contracts spasmodically, jerking the entire apparatus. A heavy dewdrop glistens at the slit of his cock, matched by one I feel easing out of me.

The rubber bag dances overhead as his whole body shakes hard. Effort not to have the ultimate accident? Simple pain? Deep body chill? I wish I knew. It feeds something in me. Something voracious.

"Mistress, I can't stand this! Please stop it, just for a minute!"

He hasn't said 'mercy,' so I don't. I glance at the bag. Hung high to deliver the icy water with some pressure, its decreased bulge tells me it is already more than half drained. "Would you rather have the strap?" I offer. This is fun, playing sadistic ice queen to his cringing slave.

"No! Yes! I don't know! Please, mistress, it hurts so bad I'm afraid I'll--"

"You do and you clean it up. Then we start over, because we're going to complete this punishment in one session, not in increments."

"Yes, mistress. It's a punishment. I deserve to be punished, I do, I know I do. I lied. God, it's--I'll never lie again, I promise!"

"Right. You can change positions now if you want to."

At once he releases his spread buttocks, straightens until he stands upright on his knees, and squeezes his cheeks together so tightly they look like a pair of grapefruits. Eyes closed, Travis rocks his hips forward and back. The enema bag swings on its hook. I don't think he realizes the sexuality of his motion, or that his penis has angled so high that the wet pearl at the slit runs down the head. I rub it over the glans with my thumb.

His eyes snap open.

"You're done," I tell him. "Tighten up or you'll be scrubbing the floor." I remove the nozzle from his body. A single clear drop escapes and rolls down his thigh; it exhausts its water before reaching his bent knee. "Do you need the plug?" I ask. Judy sent it, and some of Travis's other 'toys,' in his suitcase.

"Please, mistress, it hurts so much, and I'm so sorry, just let me--"

"Do you want your plug to keep the water in?" I repeat.

"Please, please, I want the water out!"

"Eventually. Part of the punishment is waiting." The panic on his face rewards me amply; my lower belly gives me a pleasant quasi-orgasmic twinge.

"How long?"

"We'll see." The startled dismay on his face is delicious.

Resigned, Travis closes his eyes and nods both his head and his erection. "Whatever you say, mistress. I lied. Punish me for it."

I take the nozzle to the sink and turn on the faucet marked hot. Under the sink I find the deep blue dish soap I use to wash my lingerie and sweaters. Holding it, I turn toward him.

"Look at me, Travis. When this is over, shall I punish you with the other kind?"

His voice sounds choked, but he says, "Whatever mistress wants." His eyes plead.

I feel giddy at the sensuality of my power as I wash the nozzle with the dish soap and hot water. So I turn to him, in character. "I wouldn't have given you an enema if you hadn't lied about whether you ever had one." Judy tells me everything.

"I swear I won't lie again, please can't I just--"

"And I wouldn't have used cold water if you hadn't lied about lying when I called you on it."

"I'm sorry, whatever you say is fine, but it hurts! Please let me--"

"When I feel like it." I watch him squirm, feeling my pussy doing the same.

"Please, Mistress Kathryn, it's so--" He cuts himself off.

"So what?"

"So degrading. And so deserved."

Ooh! "Very good answer."

His smile is tight. "Thanks. Oh, God, another cramp... I don't know how much longer I can hang on."

"You'll hang on until I decide you've been punished enough."

His flushed face pales noticeably. "But I'm sorry now."

"So you say. I point out that you didn't say 'Mistress, I'm sorry now.'" Colder than the water!

"Mistress! I'm sorry, you know I am, and it's fine if you punish me, but I just barely have any control here!"

"Correction," I say, keeping my tone mild.

His head jerks up, the glittering green eyes narrowed with effort.

"You have no control. I have the control. It's only been--" I glance at my watch. "Four and a half minutes. Not quite half the time Judy made you wait. How does it feel?"

His voice sounds thick. "I hurt, Mistress Kathryn."

"You know I expect you to elaborate. Or will I have to punish you for that, too?"

"No! God, let this end, mistress. Please! Strap me instead. Okay? I mean it, strap my ass! I'd rather--"

"Your preferences don't matter. Describe how it feels."

"The cold is so awful! My guts are, like, tingling, and I'm getting cold all over. The pressure's really bad, I think because my body knows to get this out but my head won't let it. But it keeps trying. In waves, kind of. It backs off, and I think, okay, it hurts, but not so bad I can't take it, then it gets really intense and I think my rectum's going to explode."

"You won't explode from a quart of water. Get control of yourself!"

"No. Mistress is in control. Not me, not my asshole, not my gut. Mistress!"

"That's right." And so, so erotic!

"You are," he says vehemently. "You say hold on, I'll hold on. Oh, man, here it comes again, oh Christ!"

I pick up the enema bag. "You have ten minutes to let it go," I say. "Come into the kitchen for the next one." I use the same blue detergent in there.

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