this.”
“Do you like knowing that you have no control right now? That your body and all the passion and pleasure it receives, depends completely on me?”
“No,” Dahlia groaned, the pressure growing increasingly uncomfortable, “this is horrid! Shit…”
“Would you be begging for Blake to fuck you right now if he were here? What would you ask him to do?”
“Oh, God,” Dahlia wept, “make it stop! It is making me sick…”
“Answer me. Tell me what you want, Dahlia,” the other woman demanded gently, lifting her hand and signaling to cease the procedure. “I want to know what you want and why.”
“ I don’ t know,” Dahlia sobbed, her swollen tummy feeling like it was twisting in rebellion. “He helps me feel!”
“Feel what?”
“Like I am alive and wanted! Like someone cares enough about me to stop me from running away from myself,” Dahlia bawled. “Instead of telling me that I was screwed up, he accepted me.”
“You need to know you have a place to belong, don ’ t you?” Mrs. Alonso asked, stroking her hand back and forth across Dahlia ’s wet back.
“Yessssss,” the girl cried, “a place where no one leaves because of me.”
“Do you believe that your mother left because of you?”
The wracking sobs answered the question. Mrs. Alonso clicked her tongue as she massaged the back of Dahlia ’ s neck. “There, there… You cannot accept the blame for your mother ’ s decisions, no matter what excuses she might have used. You can only accept responsibility for your own choices. If you are to become part of Blake ’ s household, then you must change your attitude.”
“I will! I swear I will!”
“You have significant boundary issues and these must be addressed. First, you are to stop imposing upon the others. What he does with his harem is none of your damn business. If he chooses to take you on, it will be by his invitation, and forcing yourself in is not only disrespectful to the members of the house, but also of him. Being a pain slut does not automatically secure you a place in this house.”
Mrs. Alonso nodded toward the men and stepped back as they straightened the platform so that Dahlia was perched upon a metal bowl that emptied into an enclosed drain. She continued.
“You will not ingratiate yourself in the lives of the submissives in this house. If they are interested in you, then they will make the move. There is nothing more pathetic than grasping for scraps when a table is full of other things. You must discover your own life apart from this house and become secure with it. Only then will you be perceived in a less self-absorbed light. Empty her.”
Dahlia gasped as she felt the plug being captured and the painful sensation of it being yanked from her body. A torrent of warm water was sprayed upon her back as her bowels exploded out from under her. She wept loudly; the humiliation and discomfort made her feel both debased and elated. Her sobbing continued as a warm, soapy sponge cleansed her still-bound form.
“There is a place for everyone in this world, child,” Mrs. Alonso cooed, patting water from Dahlia ’ s face, “and just because we think we want to be in one specific place, doesn ’ t mean that we belong there. This may, or may not, be the place for you, but you will never know if you try to manipulate your circumstances.”
“ I don’ t want to be alone anymore,” Dahlia sniffed. She wrapped her weak arms around the neck of the man who lifted her from the platform and buried her face under his neck. Mrs. Alonso tucked a dry blanket around them.
“Become your own best friend. When you accomplish that, then you can become a friend to others. Work right now on getting to know yourself and worry less about seeking pleasure. There is a time and place for your hedonism. You will know when it is time to move forward when you are free from petty jealousy, possessive demands, and, most important, the insatiable need to be the center of
“Do you like knowing that you have no control right now? That your body and all the passion and pleasure it receives, depends completely on me?”
“No,” Dahlia groaned, the pressure growing increasingly uncomfortable, “this is horrid! Shit…”
“Would you be begging for Blake to fuck you right now if he were here? What would you ask him to do?”
“Oh, God,” Dahlia wept, “make it stop! It is making me sick…”
“Answer me. Tell me what you want, Dahlia,” the other woman demanded gently, lifting her hand and signaling to cease the procedure. “I want to know what you want and why.”
“ I don’ t know,” Dahlia sobbed, her swollen tummy feeling like it was twisting in rebellion. “He helps me feel!”
“Feel what?”
“Like I am alive and wanted! Like someone cares enough about me to stop me from running away from myself,” Dahlia bawled. “Instead of telling me that I was screwed up, he accepted me.”
“You need to know you have a place to belong, don ’ t you?” Mrs. Alonso asked, stroking her hand back and forth across Dahlia ’s wet back.
“Yessssss,” the girl cried, “a place where no one leaves because of me.”
“Do you believe that your mother left because of you?”
The wracking sobs answered the question. Mrs. Alonso clicked her tongue as she massaged the back of Dahlia ’ s neck. “There, there… You cannot accept the blame for your mother ’ s decisions, no matter what excuses she might have used. You can only accept responsibility for your own choices. If you are to become part of Blake ’ s household, then you must change your attitude.”
“I will! I swear I will!”
“You have significant boundary issues and these must be addressed. First, you are to stop imposing upon the others. What he does with his harem is none of your damn business. If he chooses to take you on, it will be by his invitation, and forcing yourself in is not only disrespectful to the members of the house, but also of him. Being a pain slut does not automatically secure you a place in this house.”
Mrs. Alonso nodded toward the men and stepped back as they straightened the platform so that Dahlia was perched upon a metal bowl that emptied into an enclosed drain. She continued.
“You will not ingratiate yourself in the lives of the submissives in this house. If they are interested in you, then they will make the move. There is nothing more pathetic than grasping for scraps when a table is full of other things. You must discover your own life apart from this house and become secure with it. Only then will you be perceived in a less self-absorbed light. Empty her.”
Dahlia gasped as she felt the plug being captured and the painful sensation of it being yanked from her body. A torrent of warm water was sprayed upon her back as her bowels exploded out from under her. She wept loudly; the humiliation and discomfort made her feel both debased and elated. Her sobbing continued as a warm, soapy sponge cleansed her still-bound form.
“There is a place for everyone in this world, child,” Mrs. Alonso cooed, patting water from Dahlia ’ s face, “and just because we think we want to be in one specific place, doesn ’ t mean that we belong there. This may, or may not, be the place for you, but you will never know if you try to manipulate your circumstances.”
“ I don’ t want to be alone anymore,” Dahlia sniffed. She wrapped her weak arms around the neck of the man who lifted her from the platform and buried her face under his neck. Mrs. Alonso tucked a dry blanket around them.
“Become your own best friend. When you accomplish that, then you can become a friend to others. Work right now on getting to know yourself and worry less about seeking pleasure. There is a time and place for your hedonism. You will know when it is time to move forward when you are free from petty jealousy, possessive demands, and, most important, the insatiable need to be the center of
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