A Devil in Hingham | 6 | Buttermilk

| 6 |

With a rope noose around my neck, Chastity led me out into the yard like a dog. My bottom clenched around the ginger inside it, holding it in as I walked so I was offered no relief. The torturous root inside my cunt slipped out quickly – given how wet I was there was little I could do to stop it. Chastity paused a beat when she heard it fall to the floor, but just laughed at me. What she planned would already be punishment enough without her pausing to discipline me further.

It was strange to go outside and see the sun still shining brightly, the sky bright blue. The day deserved darkness, clouds, and cold. The sunshine made me feel all the more exposed as I was led naked along the back of the house towards a old metal water-pump in the yard.

“What are you going to do to me?” I demanded, though I already had a good idea. That clyster syringe gave it away, but I dreaded to think Chastity would truly torture me like that. We stopped at the water pump, and she carefully set down the pitcher. It was filled with something creamy and white – buttermilk?

“I’m going to offer you some relief, Amity,” she said sweetly. “The sting of that ginger will be lingering inside you otherwise, and that would just be cruel of me to allow, wouldn’t it? Now, let me get those ropes off your arms; I believe you’ll do well enough without such restraint now.”

I didn’t want her relief. I’d take the sting if only to avoid the impending humiliation. But there was little I could do. If I struggled I had no doubt that she would fetch out Caleb, and I certainly didn’t want that either. She slowly unknotted the ropes that so tightly bound my arms, and the relief when I could finally roll my shoulders forward and stretch out my arms was nothing short of sheer ecstasy. My limbs were covered in coiled red marks – the bite of the rope still imprinted upon me. It looked almost beautiful. But my relief was short-lived. Once I had stretched out my arms, Chastity tied the rope around my neck to the pump and said, “On your hands and knees now, dear. I’ll take the ginger out first before we fill you up. A buttermilk enema would feel just lovely wouldn’t it? Smooth and cool.”

I couldn’t stifle my whimper as I knelt down. The dirt was slightly damp around the pump, and patches of grass grew there. We were behind the house, but I still desperately hoped that they were not expecting any visitors. Chastity squatted behind me and caressed her hand over my oiled buttocks, still tender from the brutal punishments she and her husband had administered.

“I do hope you don’t choose to misbehave again, Amity,” she said. “These welts are rather severe…certainly not worth adding more to them, is there?”

I shook my head quickly. “No ma’am.” Her finger stroked over my tingling opening as she grasped the bit of ginger that was protruding and slowly pulled it out. I hissed as the sting intensified once more, all the lingering juices sliding off inside me. Who ever had first devised such an idea was cruel indeed. She flung the root aside, and came around beside me so I could watch her open the syringe and begin to slowly pour the buttermilk inside. My arms began to shake. I could get up and run away couldn’t I? Certainly so…the rope would not be difficult to untie and I was confident I could fight away any of her attempts to stop me. By the time she had fetched Caleb it would be too late, I could be far away hiding in the woods.

But part of me deserves this, I thought. I’d willingly given my pride and devotion to a devil for my own success. It made sense that even now, in the depths of depravity, I was still forced to face that yet again my body was giving away my desire.

“Now I want you to be a very good girl for me,” Chastity said, tipping my chin up to look at her. “I’m going to fill you up with this whole syringe, and I need you to hold it for me until I say. If you don’t, I’ll fill you up again and get something to plug you up with. Then you’ll have to kneel out here an awfully long time all plugged up. Do you understand, Amity?”

“Yes, ma’am.” As fearful as I was, I was eager to be good. Chastity had a way about her that made even being utterly humiliated preferable to disobeying; not only because of my fear of the consequences, but because I would hate to hear disapproval in her voice.

“Very good! Now stay just as you are.” I felt the metal tip of the syringe probing me, shockingly cold as it slid inside. It was slim, not a strain on me as it entered, but the cold and the impending discomfort made me tremble nonetheless. With the tip fully inside me, Chastity said sweetly, “I’ll go slowly. Be sure not to struggle, love.”

The cool liquid began to fill me, shocking immediately and swiftly becoming worse. I bit my lip and bowed my head, trying not to make a sound as she slowly emptied the syringe into me. It was true that the buttermilk swiftly soothed the stinging of the ginger. Instead, the sting was replaced with the slow uncomfortable stretch of being overly full.

“You’re doing so well, Amity!” Chastity praised. “We’re halfway through this syringe already.”

“No more,” I whispered, feeling the cramps start in my belly that made me desperately want to relieve myself. “Please…it’s too much…”

Chastity laughed. “Or don’t be silly, love! You can take this whole syringe inside you, I know you can. It’s going to get terribly full, and then you’ll have to wait for my permission before you can have any relief, but you certainly can do it. See, you’ve taken a little more already!”

I began to moan as she kept filling me, head hung, face burning. I could feel my belly distending, my desperation growing until I was beginning to whimper frantically for relief. Chastity giggled at my pleas, slowly emptying every last drop of buttermilk inside me.

“You’re lucky my husband isn’t the one doing this,” she said, after refusing even more of my begging. “He would have hung you up by your legs from one of the tree limbs and filled you up even more than I will! Count yourself lucky, dear. Just a little bit more. And after this, your tight little hole will be so nice and smooth for your final lesson.”

I shuddered at her promise of a “final lesson” even as I struggled to take the last drops of her enema. When she finally announced that it had finished I was overcome with relief, the prospect of being able to relieve myself of that terrible fullness washing over me. But she didn’t remove the syringe right away.

“Remember what I warned you, Amity,” she said. “I’m going to take this syringe out now, but you’re going to hold this buttermilk inside you until I saw otherwise. If you don’t, I’ll fill you up again and plug you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I whimpered, desperate, hoping she would be merciful and wouldn’t make me hold it too long. She withdrew the syringe, and I felt a little dribble of buttermilk down my legs. I sucked in my breath, struggling through the overwhelming urge, the shame of needing to relieve myself making me want to curl up into a ball, or scurry off and seek privacy somewhere. But there was no privacy here. Chastity could see all of me.

“How does that feel, Amity?” she said, circling me slowly.

“So full,” I moaned. “I can’t…ma’am, please…it’s too much…”

“Of course you can, dear.” She crouched down near my head and took my face in her hands, gently tucking away my hair as I gasped and struggled to obey. “This is what happens when all that sin needs to be flushed out of you though, isn’t it Amity? And you have indeed been a very sinful, very naughty girl, haven’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am…”

“Say it. Go on. Say how naughty you’ve been. Admission is the next step to forgiveness.”

“I’ve been a very naughty girl,” I sobbed, barely able to form words as I struggled to control myself. I could still feel buttermilk running down my legs, unable to stop it despite how hard I was trying. There was just too much in me. “I’ve been terribly sinful and have done awful, perverted things for my own gain. Please…please, ma’am…”

“So do you renounce the Devil?” Chastity insisted. “Do you renounce and curse all that he has given you for your perverted ways?”

I choked up. Renounce the Devil…my Devil…I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. I had all that I did because of him, because of the bargains I had made to a figure of shadow. I had never seen my Devil’s face but I knew he was always there, and he would hear me renounce him. He would know. He would see my ungratefulness.

I shook my head slowly. “I can’t. I can’t do it. I won’t.” Terrified of the consequences but determined, I went on, “My Devil has given me everything. And though I will confess my sins – for my sins are many – I won’t – I can’t curse my Devil. I am His unto death.”

Chastity gave me a long, hard look. I anticipated her scolding to begin anew. Worse, I felt certain she would go inside to fetch Caleb, and have him string me up from a tree as she described and fill me even more. But instead, to my shock, her face softened. “Such loyalty you have, dear Amity,” she said, with a wistful smile. “A dutiful servant you are indeed.” She stood, and released my face. I grit my teeth, determined not to beg now that I had so thoroughly defied her. Surely my punishment would only be worse for it.

“You may relieve yourself, Amity,” she said at last, much to my shock. “Just there where you are. Remain on your hands and knees like a good girl.”

I obeyed with utter relief, the buttermilk flooding out of me. It mattered little how embarrassing it was to kneel there and do it in front of her; I was just grateful to have my urgent need gone. I hung my head, utterly spent, awaiting her declaration that my next lesson was imminent.

“Now clean yourself up from the pump,” she said. “It’s time we joined my husband inside. I’m sure he’ll be very eager to hear just what a loyal servant of the devil you are.”