Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 6

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 6 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

The plexiglass box was cramped.  It set in the middle of the floor, which allowed people to walk around it and view it from all sides.  Inside the box, Wretch, formerly Dr. Richard Richards, knelt.  His ankles were chained together and to a ring in the floor of the box.  His knees were tied wide apart.  He wore a device similar to a jockstrap.  But it was a tight, tight pouch squeezing his balls and cock.  A catheter was inserted into his pisstube.  His arms were held behind him in a leather sheathe that pulled his elbows close together.  He was gagged with a strap that held his mouth wide open.  A feeding tube was inserted down his throat.  He no longer wore a mask as they no longer needed to keep his identity a secret.  A stiff collar adorned his neck so he could look up and foreword but not down.  And there he knelt, second after minute after hour after day after week after month after year.  He could not believe what they had done to him.  All he could think about was needing to piss, a common feeling with catheters, the gagging reflex from the throat tube, the itching from the electrolysis that had permanently removed his body hair, the frustration of not being able to speak and tell anyone what was going on or even just scream in rage and frustration, the painful immobility, but most of all, the agonizing, aching, endless, gut wrenching sexual desires and unbelievably painful blue balls. 

Rachel Richards walked into the room. 

“Good morning, good morning and what a wonderful morning it is,” she mocked.  “The sun is shining, the birds are singing.  Oh, but that’s right.  You can’t hear any of that except when I hit the ‘on’ button on the intercom of your cage and you can’t see outside this room and only straight ahead at that.” 

Rachel brought her face close to the glass and mimicked a kiss an inch from his lips. 

“Mmmm, too bad, so sad,” she grinned. 

He writhed in silent rage and frustration. 

“Now, now,” she teased.  “I didn’t come here again just to tease you.  Mostly but not just that.  I have a present for you.” 

She held up a bulging red bottle. 

“Do you know what this is?” she wickedly grinned. 

Of course, he could not answer.  Even nodding his head was impossible.  She was giddy with her absolute power over him. 

“Tell you what,” she said.  “I’ll give you a clue.”

She disconnected his feeding tube from its normal feed and screwed it into the bottle.  He winced at the sharp, bitter taste as hot soapy water filled his mouth. 

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m washing your mouth out with soap.  And even though that’s fitting, its not all I’m going to fill with hot, soapy water, richiepoo.  I mean, poor wretchy.”

“Mmph.  Gack.  Gurgle.  Glub,” he moaned as she walked around behind him. 

He felt her finger inserting up his rectum with Vaseline. 

“You should be grateful I’m even lubing you up,” she laughed. 

Then he felt the nozzle being inserted deeply into his ass.  He writhed as best he could as he felt her lift the bottle high and felt the hot soap sloshing in his guts.  Then he felt his ass being plugged. 

“Now you just hold that nice enema for a few hours, richie.  Maybe even until tomorrow morning.”

His eyes were wide with pain and humiliation. 

“Oh, and wretchie, here’s a little hypnotic command based on all that nice conditioning Tabitha put into you- think of that hot soapy enema sloshing in your guts as the equivalent of a woman on her period and imagine what she goes through and also think of it as the equivalent of fucking your own ass with your thumbs.  Mmmm, I do believe that makes you all horny, hornier than ever.  Doesn’t it, poor, sweet brother?”

That made the conditioning kick in.  Now the cramping agony of the enema translated to sexual arousal and he was whimpering in frustration.  Having gone years with no sexual relief, he would have been anyway but now, not even the pain of the cramping, painful enema could distract him from his need to cum.  It only made his frustrations worse.  Rachel gave his tight, tight pouch a good squeeze and smiled, enjoying every moment of his torment.  Then, she turned and walked out as he could only stare at her shapely ass.