The Administrative Assistant

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The Administrative AssistantThis new story was heavily influenced by the cult film “The Secretary” with James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal released in 2002. Enjoy [user]]The Administrative Assistant My name is Roger Ryder and I am running my own consulting company since I was “down sized” a few years back.  Since then my business grew almost exponentially since companies these days rather hire a consultant than invest in their own workforce, which is great for me.I am my own boss and work at my own pace.  Lately, the administrative work got so immense that I am spending too much time on it.  One of my friendly competitors and longtime mentor suggested that it was time for me to think about hiring “a pair of hands” to help me with the administrative duties. So before I knew it, I was sieving through applications for an administrative assistant and started interviewing a few girls.  They all had completed a college degree, were book smart and good looking, but somehow something was missing.  I needed someone with panache, experience dealing with high strung executives and dealing with me, which is not easy at times. I almost gave up when I made a last effort and invited Susan Sanders for an interview.She had an interesting background as an assistant, having worked in several companies, different industries and different countries. Susan and I hit it off immediately. She had a great personality, was easy to talk to and looked gorgeous.  She was 5 feet 10 inches, with long brown hair, brown eyes, nice full chest, a slim waist and a plump behind. She was wearing fashionable, but conservative skirt with a white blouse, which revealed just enough of her cleavage as a teaser.  After I checked her references and did the usual background check, I made her an offer, which she accepted immediately. In the first week Susan made some great improvements in my office by organizing the files and giving the office “the female touch”.  My clients were asking who my interior decorator was.  Susan also had a way with some of my eccentric clients, making her a great asset to my business. Everything seemed to going in the right directions.  While we addressed each other as “Miss Susan” and “Sir”, we started to have some friendly banter – sometimes with some sexual undertones.  She also paid attention to the little things, like bringing me a cup of Cappuccino in the morning and Espresso after lunch.  She really took good care of me and I was pleased with myself in finding and hiring her. But then three weeks later, one of my best clients and good personal friend called me to ask me whether I had drunk one too many of my Martinis while writing the report I sent him.  I looked up the electronic copy and to my surprise and shock; the report had several mistakes in it, which the spell checker wouldn’t recognize.  I was embarrassed, because I had trusted Ms. Susan and signed the report without proof reading it.   I apologized to my friend and called Ms. Susan in my office to confront her with the report.  When I asked her what happened, her face turned red like a tomato and she started to apologize profusely. I mentioned to her to be more careful in the future and thought the situation was resolved. A week later I checked on some of the correspondence and noticed some mistakes again.  I called Ms. Susan to my office again and asked her very sternly what was going on. She went red again and told me that she had a hard time concentrating on her work the last couple of days.  She told me then that she will face the consequences of her doing, went to her desk and started packing. I went after her and tried to convince her to stay.  “You really want me to stay, Sir?” she asked.  “Yes, please! We will work on this together and I will do whatever is needed to have you concentrate more on your work.  Why don’t you take a couple of days off and gather yourself again.” She thanked me thoroughly and promised to stay, so I went back to my office to read the article I had started before. My reading was interrupted, when she knocked at my door and entered.  “Yes, Ms. Susan. Come in.  What can I do for you?” She looked down on her shoes and was fidgeting with the hemline of her skirt. “Well, Sir. You mentioned you would help me?” she asked a little shy.  “Yes, Ms. Susan. I will do whatever I can do to help you.”  “Sir, you might remember that I was educated in an international boarding school in Switzerland.” “Yes, Ms. Susan. I recall something like that from your resume, but what does that have to do with our current situation.” Susan was increasing in her fidgeting and couldn’t or wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “Sir, when I was in the boarding school, I also had a hard time in concentrating on my school work. And…”  “Yes, Ms. Susan. Please go on.” “Sir, the headmistress took me under her wing, so to speak, and worked with me on my lack of concentration.”  “OK, Ms. Susan.  Please come to the point, what would you like me to do? Call your former headmistress and see whether she can tutor you again?”  Susan now sighted and looked shamefully up into my eyes.  “Sir, she…” Susan came closer to my desk and leaned over it.  In a slight whisper, she continued, “she gave me a thorough spanking, Sir.”  I cleared my throat, “Ms. Susan, did I hear you correctly – you said, she gave you a spanking?”  “Yes, Sir”, looking straight into my eyes from my desk leaning on her hands.  “Ms. Susan. Are you seriously asking me to give you a …  eh… spanking?” It suddenly became very hot in the room and started to sweat. With a very seductive voice, Susan pleaded, “Yes, Sir.  Please I need your help in this.  Please Sir, it really helped me in school and I am certain that it will help me to improve at work.” “Sir, you mentioned that you had seen the movie ‘Secretary’ with James Spade and Maggie Gyllenhaal.”  I coughed and cleared my voice, “Yes, Ms. Susan, I remember seeing it awhile back and discussing it with you just recently.  But clearly you must be joking.  You aren’t suggesting that we are going to engage in some eh… questionable relationship at work, are you?” My mind was racing.  Is she trying to set me up for a sexual harassment suit? What is going on? “Sir, I certainly understand your hesitation, but I drafted an amendment to my contract to the effect that I am consenting in being helped this way in my professional and personal development, “ handing me the drafted document. While I was reading, she continued,” Sir, we both are adults and I am not trying to engage in some questionable relationship – as you so eloquently put it, but in some needed therapy for my lack of concentration. Please, Sir.” The letter read like something out of the twilight zone, a mix of lawyer meeting the master of the dungeon.  She even include a “safe word” – PINEAPPLE. “Well, Ms. Susan, I am not sure what to say. I see you even include a safe word for us.”  “ Yes, Sir.  I thought it necessary, so we don’t get carried away.” Susan, took the document out of my hands and signed it with my pen.  She handed it back to me, “Sir, if you can’t help me, I have to resign from my position.”  She starred into my eyes with her beautiful brown eyes and my heart (and brain) just melted away. I signed it, too, and placed it in my personnel files.  “Ok, Ms. Susan.” I cleared my voice, “How are we going to do this?” “Sir, I am already in position.  Just get on my side of the desk.” She leaned completely over the desk, thus perfectly bending over and presenting me with her plump backside.  I walked over to the other side, fetching my wooden ruler, and standing directly behind her.  She smiled a little when she saw me pick up the ruler, and slowly pulled up her skirt exposing her bottom covered in lacy white silk panties.  I noticed that she was wearing no pantyhose, but a garter belt and stockings.  I swallowed hard and started having second thoughts about this whole situation.  Then she reached back again and pulled down her panties very slowly.  She realized my hesitation and looked back from her position bahis firmaları at me, “Sir, I was a very bad girl and very bad girls will get spankings on their bare bottoms.” “Ms. Susan, I hope you know what you are asking for.” “Yes, Sir. Please, I need twenty strokes with your ruler. I will count hem for you, Sir.”  I positioned myself slightly to the left of her to better spank her nice white globes, “Are you ready, Ms. Susan?” “Yes, Sir!” I took it easy with the first strike with the ruler, so she looked back at me, “Sir, I think you can do better than that.  Please, Sir. This is supposed to be a disciplinary action.”  So, for the next one, I swung back the ruler in a high arch and let it rip. The cracking noise the hit made, startled both of us.  Susan jumped and groaned.  “One. Thank you, Sir!” Her lily white ass showed the first red bruise.  Whack, the second. “Two. Thank you, Sir!”  And on I went, smacking her beautiful behind with the ruler.  Susan started to take in a sharp breath each time the ruler came down hard on her buttocks, which turned now an angry fiery red.  I felt sorry for Susan and asked her after a dozen strokes, “Ms. Susan. Are you asking for mercy?”  “No, Sir.  I was a very bad girl and I need to take my medicine to get better.  Please, Sir, continue.”  I finished the remainder of the treatment on her buttocks.  She would probably not be able to sit for a couple of days without being reminded of this. I carefully leaned over her body and whispered in her ear, “Ms. Susan, I hope that this was an effective treatment for your lack of concentration.”  I had placed my hand next to her to avoid any body contact.  I noticed with some surprise that she softly interlocked her fingers in my hand and chocking back some tears whispered back, “ Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”  The sexual energy in the room could probably solve some of the global energy crisis. Once I was finished, Susan pulled carefully her panties up and got up from her compromising position.  She turned to me, straightening out her skirt, and choking back some more tears. “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your help in getting me straightened out again.” She carefully walked out of my office. “You are welcome, Ms. Susan.  I hope you don’t need no more repeats of this … eh… treatment.” She turned around from the door and smiled wickedly, “Sir, I am not sure about that.”  I had a hard time getting the picture of her plump red buttocks out of my mind.  I was struggling with my sexual feelings for her to go ahead and to mount her right then and there.  My hard cock was hurting in my pants and I was wondering whether Susan had noticed my erection. I had almost forgotten about this incident over the weekend, when I came back to the office on Monday to find a cane in our umbrella stand.  Pulling it out of the stand and carefully weighing it in my hand, I turned to Susan, “Good morning, Ms. Susan. What do we have here?” She looked up from her paperwork and smiling at me mysteriously, “Good morning, Sir. It looks like a cane to me, Sir.  I took the liberty to procure this implement, as it is more practical in our treatment.”  Walking over to her desk and playfully hitting my hand with the cane, I joked, “Thank you, Ms. Susan.  How thoughtful of you. Maybe, we should check this … eh… implement out, whether it conforms to your stringent requirements.” I didn’t know what devil rode me to blurt this out at her. Her face lit up, “Yes, Sir.  I think that is a wonderful idea.”  I almost chocked on my cup of cappuccino Susan handed me.  “Ms. Susan, didn’t I spank you just last week pretty hard?  Wasn’t that enough to get you focused?  Besides, I didn’t notice any more mistakes since.”  Susan blushed and looked down at her desk, “Well, Sir. You are right, but I need a quick reminder of 10 strokes with this cane, please Sir.” ‘Now what?’, I was thinking, ’this happens when you think with your dick rather than your brain.’  Well, now I couldn’t back off anymore, so I turned on my heels and went to my office with Susan following me without hesitation.  But this time she bent over a stool she must have brought earlier into my office.  She bent over the back and again pulled up her skirt.  “Sir, would you please pull down my panties.”  I tried to hide my trepidation and control my trembling hands. I slowly pushed my forefingers behind the elastic band and carefully pulled down her panties, savoring the moment.  When the panties were about down half over her buttocks, I gently moved the rest of my hands behind the rubber band.  My hands relished her firm round buttocks and gradually removed her knickers.  Susan started to lift one of her legs indicating that she wanted me to remove her panties.  I kneeled down to remove them and from down there I had a beautiful view up her crotch.  Susan had shaved her pussy and wait was that – a piercing of her clit?  I was feeling like the proverbial boy in the candy store. My stiff penis was throbbing with excitement and a little voice told me to forget about the caning.  I got the urge to start worshiping her lovely pussy by eating her out.  Susan turned around to me, “Sir, would you like me to spread my legs a little more?” I cleared my throat, ”Ah, Yes, Ms. Susan, that would be wonderful.”  So, she went ahead and spread her legs and bent at her waist forward over the back of the chair holding on to the sides of the seat.  I slowly got up from my superb position and found the cane. “Ready, Ms. Susan?”  “Yes, Sir!”  I swung back the cane and hit her lovely buttocks. Whack! Number One.  Susan sharply sucked in air. “Are you Ok, Ms. Susan?”  “Yes, Sir. ONE!” A nice red line already developed, where the cane made contact with the soft creamy skin of her rump. Whack! Number two.  After number seven, I got the idea to spice this up a little and hit her crack instead.  Susan groaned immediately, when the cane made contact with the softer tissue around her bung hole. “Good, Sir! You need to be very firm with me! Thank you, Sir, for taking care of me!”  After the last one, my hands itched to caress her red hot bottom. “Well, Ms. Susan, I hope you are learning you lesson,” patting her hot buttocks.  “Yes, Sir.  I hope so, too,” getting up slowly from her bend over position and straightening her skirt.  She moved closer to me and deeply looked me into my eyes.  We stared at each other for some time, until the office phone interrupted us.  The phone rang out and we looked at each other deeply.  I cleared my throat, “Well, Ms. Susan, what do you think?  Should we accept the new implement?”  “Yes, Sir. I certainly approve of the new implement and truly appreciate your time working with me on my treatment” she replied and left my office with a wicked look on her face.  “Aren’t we forgetting something, Ms. Susan?” I asked her.  She turned around in the doorway of my office, “Yes, Sir?”  I pointed to her lovely white panties lying on the floor in front of me.  “Sorry, Sir.” she came back and bent down to reach for the panties.  She slowly stood up, coming up close again to my face and looking deep into each other’s eyes.  She slowly came closer and kissed me on my cheek, “Thank you, Sir.  Thank you for taking care of me.”  She turned around and left with her panties in her hands.  For the rest of the day, I couldn’t get rid of the image of her plump, juice pussy in front of me.  I had a hard time of controlling my desires to take her right here and now. A week later, I noticed again that Susan made some mistakes and I thought that it is time to “spice up” the “treatment”.  I excused myself to run an errant and told Susan that I will be back shortly.  I have been into enemas for as long as I can remember and the little red bag was a constant companion of mine.  For the longest time, my fantasies included giving a warm soapy enema to a girl, followed by having the favor returned.  However, so far all my girlfriends thought that enemas were weird or dirty and that I was some sick fellow.  So, I planned to increase Susan’s focus by a good kaçak iddaa dose of an enema. I drove home to fetch some of my equipment and stopped over at the d**gstore to procure some more needed ingredients.  When I returned to the office with my goodies, Susan had gone to lunch and I could hide my stash in my private bathroom adjacent to my office.  Susan and I always joked about the “executive bathroom”. Once Susan came back from lunch, I asked her into my office. She already expected trouble and brought our little “friend” with her.  Before I could start on her, she jumped right in. “Sir, I am truly sorry to disappoint you again.  I really don’t know what to say. I think you need to increase the severity of your treatment, please.”  With that said, she went to my desk and assumed her usual position, bending at her hip and stretching out her upper torso over the desk.  I noticed with surprise that she was not wearing any knickers today.  “Ms. Susan, you are correct.  I have to implement some urgently needed changes to your treatment.  Are you familiar with enemas, Ms. Susan.” She got up from her position, turned around startled and looked at me with some horror in her eyes, “Yes, Sir…. I told you that I was in a boarding school in Switzerland?”  I nodded silently.  She choked emotionally, “We would get enemas at least once a month.  The teachers claimed for health reasons – to clean us, but I think some of the teachers took some sick pleasure out of it.   They wanted to humiliate us.  Also, when we were misbehaving, the teachers would send us to the nurse for a punishment enema.  These were very different. We would get them over the whole weekend and the nurse made sure that we wouldn’t forget them soon.  I dreaded them like most of my classmates.  Please, Sir, don’t give me an enema, please.”  I smiled at her, “Ms. Susan, I think we both know that what you need right now, is a good, soapy enema to focus your thoughts on your work.  I believe that you are no longer responding to spankings alone.  I believe that a good hard spanking combined with by a good soapy enema will have the expected result. Don’t you agree?”  She blushed and looking down at her feet answered with real fear in her voice, “Yes, Sir. You are correct. … You know best, what is good for me and I trust your judgment.”  “Good, Ms. Susan.  Then this is settled.  Please resume your position. For starters, I will give you a small, but powerful enema to clean your rectum.  Then we will follow up with 2 quart soapy enemas until you are cleaned out completely.”  I noticed that she was starting to cry silently. I lowly removed some gloves from my desk drawer in front of her and put them on with a snap. I went behind her and pulled up her lovely skirt to expose her plump buttocks, “Ms. Susan, could you please spread your cheeks.”  She reluctantly pulled her buttocks apart to give me a lovely view of her pink rosebud.  I spread some Vaseline on my finger and started to spread it around her bunghole.  Susan inhaled sharply.  I took my time before I finally penetrated her ass.  She started groaning, while I was spreading the Vaseline around in her hole.  “Oooh, Sir, please.  I will be a good girl.  Please don’t give me the enema.” The groaning changed to moaning. I noticed that her pussy was getting wet. “Ms. Susan, you will be a good girl and accept your treatment!  Are you ready for it?”  “ Yes, Sir.  Sorry, Sir.  Please start my eee-nema,” she responded while I was carefully inserting the warmed up fleet enema and squeezed the solution slowly into her trembling bottom.  “Oooh, Sir.  Please, I have to go!”  “No, not yet.  Ms. Susan,” I naughtily replied to her pleading.  “Ms. Susan.  This is just the first dose.  And here comes the second.”  I showed her the 50 mL clear plastic syringe with a curved black nozzle. “This one contains glycerin, which is a very strong laxative.  You may want to go immediately, but I need you to hold it in as long as possible, Ms. Susan.”  She sniffled, “Yes, Sir.  I will try my best… but I don’t know.  May I please go first?”  “No, Ms. Susan.  I have to insist that you take both and keep them in.  So, would you please spread your bottom again.”  She obliged again giving me a perfect view on her beautiful rosebud. Susan jumped a little as I inserted the slightly larger nozzle.  “Ready?”  “Yes, Sir.”  “Here we go…” pushing the plunger in.  “See, Ms. Susan, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”  pulling the syringe out slowly. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.  Pleeease, may I go now, pleeease, Sir?”  she pleaded with me.  “Look, Ms. Susan, the whole idea about this enema is to get you focused.  There is nothing more important to you right now than to make sure that you don’t make a mess in my office.” She started to cry, ”Yes, Sir, I understand, buut … I can’t hold it much longer.  Pleeeas, let me go, Sir.  Pleease, I promise to be more careful in the future.” She clenched her bottom and danced from one foot to the other.  It had been almost 10 minutes – the glycerin was really kicking in. “OK, Ms. Susan, we will continue this, but you may relieve yourself in the ‘executive bathroom’.” “Thank you, Sir, thank you,” she replied while moving to get rid of the powerful solution.  I heard her slamming down the seat, plugging down on the toilet, and let it rip.  She didn’t have time to close the door, so I was privy to the cacophony of noises – groaning, splattering interrupted by some loud, wet farts. She started to cry. I carefully closed the door, more because I didn’t want to have the strong aroma permeate throughout my office.  After a long time, she finally emerged out of the bathroom.  “I am soo sorry, Sir.  I couldn’t hold it in anymore.  Please forgive me, Sir,” holding the red bag, which I had left in the bathroom.  The bag was a 2 quart open top beauty, which she had filled to capacity so that foam was pouring over the rim.  “Sir, you need to punish me for not obeying your order. Please, give me my well-deserved enema.”   OMG, I didn’t know what to say.  After the harsh first one, she requested another one. I cleared my throat, “Yes, Ms. Susan. Let’s hang the bag on the coat stand,” pointing to coat stand in the corner of my office.  I positioned the stand next to my chair and sat down.  “Ms. Susan, it might be better to remove your clothes.  We don’t want them to be soiled, do we?”  She hung the bag up and slowly peeled out of her skirt, petticoat, blouse, and bustier. I couldn’t help but to start at her full tits with erect nipples and dropping my view to her garter belt, stockings, and shaven pussy.  “Sir, do you want me to lie on your desk again?”  I cleared my throat and waved her over to my chair, “No, Ms. Susan, please lie over my knees.”  “Yes, Sir, as you wish!” So she came closer and lay over my lap.  I was in heaven, to have a nice lady over your lap presenting herself for an enema – it can’t get any better than this.  She spread her legs to give me unobstructed access to her rosebud. For some time I admired the view – her lily white buttocks surrounding her perfect little bunghole and her little pink pussy with her nicely formed lips.  I came back to reality, when Susan cleared her throat, “Is this how you want me, Sir?”  “Yes, yes, Ms. Susan.  This seems to be perfect,” I replied and started to apply a generous amount of lubricant to her opening, which soon would be violated by a rather large nozzle she had chosen for herself.  “Sir, this brings back some memories. The headmistress would give me my enemas in this position when I had been naughty and finish the punishment with a sound spanking while I had to endure the hot, soapy enema in my stomach. If I didn’t keep the burning solution in me long enough, she repeated the whole procedure.” “Well, Ms. Susan, I was thinking exactly along those lines.  I believe that there is not a more powerful procedure available for little naughty girls than a hot, soapy enema and a sound spanking to remind them of the proper behavior for a young lady.”  I started to inserted my lubricated kaçak bahis finger in her bud and twisted it around. She started to wiggle and groaned passionately on my lap.  “Ms. Susan, you are you ready for your treatment?”  “Yes, Sir.  Please give me my well-deserved punishment.”  “OK, Ms. Susan, her it comes,”  I replied and plunged the black, bat shaped nozzle, which measured a threating 1 ¾ inches in diameter and was 6 ½ inches long. Susan tried to escape from this enormous invader.  I twisted the nozzle slowly but steadily into her yielding bunghole, while she was moaning and groaning.  Finally she cried out in pain.  “Well, well, Ms. Susan. You are a big girl now and you have chosen a big girl nozzle for your treatment.  Do you want me to be merciful on you?” I asked her giving her the escape of our chosen safe word.   “No, Sir.  I am soo sooorry that I have been a naughty girl.  It’s just…  I am not used to these big nozzles anymore since I left the boarding school, but you need to use on my behind to teach me a good lesson and become a good girl again.”  So, I pushed the nozzle forward into her anus, which finally yielded to the invader with a big sight from Susan.  “Thank you, Sir!”  Without warning, I opened the clamp and the harsh solution was invading her innards.  She answered with a sharp intake of air and started to twist on my lap.  I remembered her veiled whish for a sound spanking, unfortunately I didn’t think about bringing a nice paddle.  So I started to give her a good hard hand spanking, while the enema continued to run into her bowels. Susan started to whimper and wail on my lap as I peppered her behind with my hand.  Her prized ass changed to nice reddish hue. Finally, a soft gurgle announced the enema being completed.  I shut off the clamp and whispered softly into her ears, “Now, Ms. Susan, your real punishment is starting.  You will hold this enema for 20 minutes.” Susan started to moan, “Oh, please Sir, not so long.  I can’t hold it that long.  Please I need to go. Pleeaase.”  Tears were rolling down her lovely face when she looked back up from her destitute position on my lap.  I caressed her hot bottoms, “Well, Ms. Susan, didn’t we agree that you needed to learn your lesson? And that a hot soapy enema would be the fitting punishment for a naughty girl like you?”  “Yes, Sir.  Sorry, Sir, I am just … I am just so full and the soap is causing a lot of cramping.  But… You are right, I deserve this punishment.  I want to be a good girl for you…” “See, Ms. Susan, that’s the right attitude.”  I couldn’t fail to notice that Susan was rubbing her pelvis against my lap.  She must have noticed my hard erection as well. Her pussy was quite excited and wet. “Let me see, Ms. Susan. Maybe I can help you and take your mind of your troubles,” and started to finger her swollen clit.  She answered with a sharp intake of air and moaning, “Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir. Please don’t stop, Sir…” This was quite a show on my lap, her juices were flowing all over my lap and I couldn’t help but insert a finger into her slippery channel. She started to buck and drill down on my finger. “Oooh, Sir. What are you doing to me, Sir? MMMMhhhh.  Please don’t stop, Sir.”  I managed to move another finger into her and reached her G-spot.  The explosion following was otherworldly. Susan screamed her little head off. Thank God, it was a late Friday afternoon and nobody was hopefully in the adjacent offices, but not too late, so to have the janitors coming by.  Finally, she calmed down. “Thank you, Sir. May I go to the potty now? Please, Sir.”  “Yes, Ms. Susan.  We better keep the nozzle in until you get to the bathroom.  We don’t want to make a mess, do we?”  “Thank you, Sir,” she got up slowly from my lap clenching her cheeks. She gave me the bag from the hat stand and tippy toed to the bathroom with me in hot pursuit.  When we reached the restroom, I hung up the bag on the shower curtain, while she offered me her buttocks facing the front of the toilette.  “Sir, could you please remove the nozzle, while I will sit down.”  I carefully twisted the nozzle out of her clenched butthole, while Susan was moving closer down to the toilette bowl.  “Here we go..” finally the colossal  invader came out of her ass followed by an explosion of the contents of her bowels. “OOhh God. I am sooo sorry, Sir. This is soo embarrassing…”  “Ms. Susan, it’s OK.  You needed this, didn’t you?”  “Yes, Sir. I needed the enema… “ Susan was interrupted by the continued eruptions from her backside, “ to be good girl and…” Splatter, fart, groan, ”and get all the naughtiness out of me. Thank you, Sir. Thank you for making me a good girl.”  “You are quite welcome, Ms. Susan. As I said before, I will help you in any way I can.  Take your time and come out when you are done,” I told Susan and closed the bathroom door behind me.  My prick was starting to seriously hurting and I was day dreaming what to do next with Susan. She finally came out of the bathroom.  “Sir, would you please give me another one, please!” holding the other bigger bag towards me.  “Sir, I need another bigger enema to rinse me out and to be thoroughly cleaned for you.”  When I looked puzzled at her and the bag covered in foam, she replied, “Sir, I found this bigger bag and I think I need a bigger enema to get all the soap and remaining filth out of me.  Please Sir, you said you would help me.”  She pressed the bulging bag into my hands, walked over to the couch in the office, spread a towel, and lay down on her side on it.  “Please Sir, clean me totally out and make me a good clean girl again, please,” exposing her anus to me.  What a sight this was!  Susan had certainly found the bag of enema stuff I had brought in from home.  The bag, she had chosen, was a large, open top beauty, which could hold up to 6 quarts – twice as much as the bag used before. She also had attached a thick, long colon tube – I was beginning to wonder what enema treatment Susan received in that Swiss boarding school.  She certainly was not a novice to world of enemas. I sat down next to her on the couch and started lubing up her bunghole. “Ms. Susan, this will be some treatment. Are you sure you want this?  You know, once we start, there is no going back, and this bag and nozzle is not for amateurs.”  She coughed to lear her throat and then turned around at me smiling, “Sir, I am a little disappointed that you think of me as an amateur…  As I told you, I received enemas quite frequently during my time in Switzerland.  Sir, I just wasn’t prepared for it the first time you gave the enema to me.  Sir, I want to proof to you that I can take this. Please, Sir, don’t hesitate.  Thank you, Sir, for teaching me the right way.”  “Well, Ms. Susan, I certainly don’t think of you as an amateur.  I just don’t want to harm you.” “Sir, you don’t ever harm me.  You are taking such good care of me, thank you, Sir,” she turned her lovely bottoms towards me and spread her ample cheeks to expose her nicely lubricated back door. Without further ado, I slowly twisted the thick, long tube up her hole, which greedily received it. After a couple of inches were inside her, I started the flow of the soapy solution.  Susan started moaning again, “ Please, Sir, shove the tube all the way up into my bowels.  They need a thorough cleaning, because they have been neglected for so long.”  Her wish was my demand and I slowly twisted the tube upwards around the first bend to enter her colon. She was enjoying this as much as I did, as I noticed that she was moving her pelvis up and down the sofa cushion she had laid strategically below the towel. She started to groan and I gave the flow and her a break. “Let’s take this easy Ms. Susan.” “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” she croaked back.  Soon after, I started the flow again and moved the rest of the colon tube into her awaiting colon. Susan moaned in pleasure. I moved my hand towards her slippery pussy and started to slightly squeeze her clit between my thumb and forefinger, while I shoved my fingers into her overflowing pussy.  Susan answered with soft whaling and bucking.  She was truly enjoying her “punishment”; however, the large amount of soapy solution makes for some tremendous cramps as I know from my own experience. 

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