Um. This was an attempt to get in all the not-used-yet squares around “enemas,” so: bodies and body parts, rough body play, painplay, mechanical/technological, bodily secretions, and penance/punishement. In 100 words.
“You’ve been bad, haven’t you?”
The mistress tightened the straps.
“Yes’m.” The Machine enveloped Engel, its metal joints whispering threats.
“Why?” She pushed a button, and his feet rose without his volition. The feet. Always the feet.
“I,” he gulped. “I liked her feet, Mistress.”
“Always the feet. Did she cry?” The Machine tilted back, until his feet were above his head.
“She moaned, Mistress.”
“Did she bleed?” The blades of the Machine would not kill him, but they liked his blood. The pain, exquisite, was sill second to the helplessness and the metal embrace.
“No, Mistress.” But he would.
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