Page 12 of UnTrained: Volume One
“Please,” she whispers again, her gaze fixed on mine.
My first instinct is to let her know that she’s safe. That we’re going to bring her back to her old life, that this is truly just to make sure she’s okay. Gavin isn’t going to hurt her. But so far, she doesn’t seem to trust that kind of messaging.
I decide to test out a theory. Holding her gaze, I ask, “Do you want to please your Master, 127?”
Immediately, she nods. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. This isn’t going to hurt unless you fight. Now, I want you to relax your bottom and let Gavin in.”
Her wide eyes stay on mine as Gavin prepares the enema, pulls on a new pair of gloves, and coats the nozzle with lubricant.
She pulls in a breath when he breaches her bottom hole with the nozzle, but her gaze doesn’t waver, even as he presses it deeper and deeper.
“Good girl,” I say again. Fuck, I wish I knew her name.
Gavin opens the clip, allowing the cleansing solution to flow inside her bottom.
She lets out a low moan as it starts to flow.
When she closes her eyes, I reach down and take her hand. To my surprise, she wraps her small fingers around my palm.
I can tell when the cramps start, because she grips even more tightly onto my hand, but even then, she doesn’t fight.
"I know it's uncomfortable," Gavin says, his voice gentle. "Just breathe through it."
“Oh, God,” she says, her voice low. “Oh, God. Please.”
“Almost done,” I say, looking at the bag. She’s taken more than half.
She tosses her head from side to side. “No. Please. I’m too full.”
Gavin reaches for the clip, ready to pause the flow, but I shake my head. Now, I know what she needs.
I let her hand go and instead wrap my fingers around her delicate neck, squeezing ever so slightly until she stops moving.
“Good girl,” I say when she stills. “Now hold still and take this. All of it, baby. For me.”
9
LANA
“Take it, baby,” he says again. The authority in his voice triggers something inside of me. He leans closer. “For me, baby. Take it.”
I shouldn’t want this. His dominance shouldn’t turn me on.
But there’s a part of me, deep down inside, that I can’t quite ignore.
“Take it for me, baby,” he says again, his voice low against my ear.
The words send heat spiraling through me despite everything I've been through. Despite the clinical setting, the humiliation, the way they bought me like an animal.
My body betrays me, responding to the dominance in his voice in a way that makes shame burn in my chest.
I nod, unable to speak as the last of the liquid flows into me. My abdomen is stretched, full to the point of pain, but I hold still under his grip on my throat. The pressure of his fingers is just enough to remind me who's in control.
"Good girl," he murmurs when the bag finally empties. "Now you're going to hold it for five minutes."
Five minutes. It might as well be five hours. My muscles clench involuntarily, fighting to keep everything inside as cramps roll through my belly in waves. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cool air.
