UNTITLED

BY GF

Lost in the Unknown

Her surroundings were like that of a dream. She could barely see
- or not at all, there was no way to be sure. The sounds coming
to her ears were unnatural, eerie, out of this world. She thought
she was flying, without having to move her arms or legs.

Then, she felt a sharp pain coming from her bottom, much more
distinct than what she had been sensing before. Too precise. From
that moment on, she seemed to fall back on Earth, and rapidly.
She could now open her eyes a little. The room she was in was
dimly lit. Looking straight in front of her, she could see a
plain grey wall with nothing decorating it. Then, she realized
she was on her tummy, although her numb arms and legs were not
straight alongside her body. She tried to move her limbs, to no
avail. She felt that the left side of her face was resting on
something soft. She tried to turn her head and in an effort to
lift it she was able to look on her left. The same plain grey
wall came into view. Then, she rested her chin on the same
padding and the wall she saw in front of her was no different
than the other two.

As her senses became more acute, she was able to realize that her
upper body was resting on the same narrow padding her head was.
She could also feel that her legs were bent perpendicularly to
her body, and that her knees were on a harder surface. She tried
to bring her ankles up, off the surface, but she could not. The
numbness slowly vanishing from her arms made her try to move
them. Again, she was unable to. She lifted her head once again
and was able to look down at her hands: they were open, her
fingers extended, flat on the same soft surface her knees were
resting on.

A sense of panic started to overwhelm her at the sight of round
and thick, bright silver restrains around her wrists. She saw
that she could move her fingers but that it was simply impossible
to get her arms free of the restrains.

It was now with her eyes wide open, fully aware of her senses
that she tried once again to look around the best she could. She
realized that she was on some sort of table, since she noticed
for the first time that she was high over the floor. And, sure
enough, she could now see the edge of that table, being about one
foot away on either side of where her hands were.

Her breathing was now quick. She coughed twice, involuntarily,
which made her feel the pain in her bottom, the same pain that
seemed to have started everything.

For several minutes she cried and called for help. Nothing
happened, no one came for her. She started to sob softly,
hiccupping irregularly, keeping her left cheek on the padding,
staring at the empty wall as silence slowly took over the room
once more, when her sobs finally subsided.

She could not understand what she was doing there; let alone how
she had gotten there in the first place. It was as if her
memories had been stolen from her. And yet, she did remember who
she was, where she lived, who her parents were, where she went to
school, her favourite dolls.

Disrupting her from her thinking, a low humming sound invaded the
room. As the minutes went by, the sound grew louder. And then,
she felt a searing pain at her anus, as if it was being open by
an enormous object. She screamed in surprise. A moment later,
something cold started to invade her bottom. Keeping her entire
body still and her eyes big in attention, she tried to
concentrate on the odd sensation, trying to discard the pain she
still felt between her bottom cheeks. Before long, she felt her
tummy being quickly filled with the cold substance.

Suddenly, she felt strong, painful cramps in her abdomen that
made her scream loudly. She could feel her tummy becoming so
distended, pressing painfully against the padding she had been
installed on, that the rest of her upper body was literally being
pushed up, pulling uncomfortably at her restrains and stretching
the skin of her hands.

Shortly after, the cramps she was still feeling were combined
with a searing burning sensation. She felt she would explode and
screamed as loud as her young lungs permitted her. She tried with
all her might to push whatever was inside her, with no success.

At the peak of her pain, her entire body shivering from the cold
liquid in her tummy, she started to feel a different sensation:
the substance was quickly leaving her tummy. After barely a
minute, she felt empty and relieved. She rested her head back on
the padding, panting heavily, cold, trying to regain her calm.
She still felt her bottom stretched open, but that seemed quite
acceptable after what she had just felt.

Her serenity was once again interrupted when something began
filling her tummy again. This time is was something really hot.
She panicked once more, furiously struggling against her
restrains, trying to get up, trying to get away, trying to escape
what could only be her worst nightmare ever.

And then the burning sensation came again. She felt that her
insides were on fire from the intense heat and the stinging. The
torture did not seem to want to stop and she cried and screamed
at the top of her lungs, her wails almost bestial. Why was it
happening to her? Where was she? She thought she was dying,
punished for a crime she was oblivious of ever committing.

At long last, like before, the substance was sucked out of her
tummy. Seconds later, it was as if nothing had ever happened in
her tummy, although she still felt a slight feeling of heat in
her tummy.

To her greatest relief, she also felt her anus getting smaller
and something being pulled out of her bottom.

But her redemption was soon replaced by fear and uncertainty as
she could now hear slow and clear footsteps in the room, coming
from behind her.

Fear in the Understanding

"The Enema Machine!," an unseen, happy masculine voice exclaimed
from behind her.

"Fully automatical, with several combinations possible, plenty of
customizable options and an autonomy of five hours," the voice
continued.

"That is simply wonderful indeed," another voice replied, this
one dreadfully familiar. "I am sure this will be highly effective
on my daughter, as I just witnessed it," the feminine voice went
on, making the captive girl shiver.

The girl then felt a gentle hand brushing slowly against her
back.

"See how lucky you are, sweetheart? This nice machine all to
yourself!," the girl's mother told her, keeping out of her sight.
The girl tried to lift her head and look behind, wanting to see a
comforting face, but her movements were too limited.

"I know you expressed some concerns about your daughter's age
before, Madam, and whether the Enema Machine might therefore
inflict too severe a punishment on an eight-year-old like her,
but I assure you that we sold several copies to parents of
children as young as three," the man said from behind the table.
"And needless to say, they quickly turned out to be extremely
satisfied customers!," he said jovially, a hint of pride in his
voice.

"Well, I agree that Tammy could use a few regular sessions on the
Machine," the mother mused, almost to herself. "Heaven knows she
often misbehaves in ways I strongly disagree with," she
continued, her voice now full of conviction. "Indeed," the man
took over immediately, "we found that 93.8% of the children
submitted to the Enema Machine at least once a week adopt a more
much acceptable code of conduct within two months after the
initial purchase, a percentage that increases to 97.4% after six
months," he said, his chest raised in self-satisfaction.

"Now that you witnessed a first demonstration, let me guide you
through a second one, this time with detailed explanations as it
takes place," he proposed eagerly, already moving closer to the
back of the table.

"First of all, it is very important that the child is properly
installed on the table. As you can see here," and the man pointed
to the table's base, "the table can be raised and lowered to the
mandatory height, to match the enema tube's. Also, the padded
block on which the child is placed," he now tapped the wooden
block between Tammy's thighs, "on her hands and knees, is also
adjustable, a necessary detail to suit younger or older children,
depending on their size and height.

"When the child's wrists and ankles are securely in the four
cuffs, the final preparations can take place," he continued,
patting the eight-year-old's left bottom cheek playfully. "You
lubricate your daughter's anus thoroughly, preferably with
Vaseline, and even slightly inside," he explained, as he ran a
gloved, lubricated finger against her tiny orifice and then,
pushing it inside just a bit. He pulled his finger out a moment
later, took his gloves off and discarded them on a garbage can by
the table.

"The rest is really entirely automatic. If you can please
position yourself beside your daughter, near that large pillar,
to have a close view of her bottom...," he said, while he himself
moved toward the back of the room, placing himself behind a
control panel.

He turned a few controls and at once the low humming Tammy had
heard before invaded the room. Then, a little panel located on
the large pillar placed directly behind the little girl slid
sideways, revealing a rectangular hole. Shortly after, a clear
telescopic tube of about half an inch in diameter came into view,
slowly sticking out of the pillar, aiming straight at Tammy's
anus. Its hydraulic mechanism made her feel uneasy, bracing
herself for the worst.

Once against her anus, the tube penetrated her and stopped at a
depth of about two inches, making Tammy gasp in discomfort. The
man then turned another button that made the end of the tube,
made of silicon, expand to a full two-inch in width. A loud
scream instantly escaped the little girl's lips.

"You could not see what just happened, of course," said the man,
noticing the mother's reaction at her daughter's sudden scream.
"The part of the tube now in Tammy's rectum has been expanded to
act as a plug to prevent her from expelling the liquid out -
voluntarily or not.

"Now, if you could come over here please...," inviting her, with
an extended arm, to come behind the control panel. The woman
walked away from the table on which her frail, naked daughter
were still restrained and placed herself by the man's side,
looking at the complicated-looking console.

"From this, here, you have access to all of the Machine's
features. As I quickly described to you earlier, you can decide
whether your daughter's enema is going to consist of water or any
other liquid, as well as the temperature, the volume used in
every cycle, the number of cycles, the duration of every cycle,
the intensity - or speed - of the flow and, of course, if you
want to add another substance to the liquid used," he said, with
an excitement easily heard in his explanations.

"For example," he began, "let's suppose that your daughter did
something to deserve a five-hour punishment enema - which is
actually the longest period a child can spend on the Machine, you
would first simply press that first button up here, called
'Maximum' on the left, under the column 'Session length (hours)'.
Or, under that one, you have a numbered pad that allows you to
manually enter the desired duration," he quickly explained,
pressing the '3', '3' and '0' buttons to show her, the numbers
now appearing in red on a digital screen. "As you can see now,
the overall duration is set to three and a half hours.

"Next, you want to choose the duration of every cycle, that is,
the time it takes for the liquid to get in your daughter's
rectum, plus the retention time, as well as the extraction time.
Under the column 'Cycle (minutes)', you have the main numbered
pad. You choose the duration in minutes," he showed her, pressing
the numbers '3' and '0'. "Now, we have set the duration of every
cycle to thirty minutes," he explained, as Tammy moaned in
discomfort from the middle of the room.

"Then, right under," he went on, not minding the girl's torments,
"you have to set the duration of the three sub-cycles. So let's
say that you want the entire volume of water to get in Tammy's
tummy in two minutes (to make it a very fast flow!), you just
press '2' on the 'Injection (minutes)' pad. Then, you have to
choose the retention time, right here, let's say... twenty
minutes. Same thing, you press the numbers corresponding. Then,
the remainder automatically appears on the third screen, down
here, which is now eight minutes. That is the time the Machine
will take to suck the water out of your daughter's insides," the
man now made a pause, giving the mother some time to look at the
controls.

"You also have full access, then, to the fun options. Further on
the right, here, under the column 'Liquid volume (quarts)' you
can determine how much liquid the Machine will use with every
cycle. I know you mentioned that you had been very disappointed
with your daughter lately. For the first demonstration, earlier,
we used two quarts of water, for only two cycles of five minutes.
Let's press '3' for this one, shall we?", and Tammy let out a
long wail at those words.

"Then, over here, you have the temperature, in Fahrenheit. Let's
go with 35," he suggested, a grin on his face, and the mother
nodded in a satisfied manner. "You now have to decide what liquid
you will use for the enema. Water, oil, milk, coffee... you have
the choice! Of course, water is the less expensive of liquids for
this machine. But I also know that my customers are wealthy and
do not hesitate to use other liquids to diversify their enemas,"
he quickly suggested in a business manner, "and that is why we
are happy to sell those alternate liquids, in barrels, at a
reasonable price," he hurried to offer nicely, a curt and polite
smile on his face. "Please follow me back to the table," he told
the mother.

The man then left the console and headed back to the middle of
the room. He touched the large pillar with one of his hand. "As
you saw earlier, that pillar is where the enema tube comes out
from," he started to describe casually. "The liquid used for the
enema comes from a 1000-gallon tank (containing five reservoirs
of a 200-gallon capacity each) above, usually installed between
the basement ceiling and the main floor. The tank can of course
heat or cool whatever liquid you choose to fill it with. It only
requires twenty minutes to make the liquid the temperature you
desire. The liquid then comes down the core of the pillar and
into the enema tube that you see here," he said, leaning closer
to the clear, large tube invading Tammy's rectum. "If you look
closely, you will see that the tube is divided in two halves: the
upper half is for the incoming liquid and the lower for the
waste. During the injection cycle, the lower half is sealed shut
by a liquid-proof valve located at the end of the tube in the
inflated silicon balloon now hidden in your daughter's rectum of
course," he explained, smiling at the mother all the while.

"After the retention cycle is over, the Machine will literally
suck the liquid from your daughter's insides through the lower
half of the tube, very much like a vacuum pump would. Its sucking
mechanism is powerful enough to ensure that she is completely
emptied of all the liquid and feces that were filling her, that
is, until the next cycle begins!" he exclaimed, letting out a
brief chuckle. "All the waste is then drained down the pillar
into the sewers," he told her, wrapping up the main description.

The man took the mother back to the console, where he showed her
the last few buttons on the right, where she could choose the
liquid to be used: 'Water', 'Milk', 'Coffee', 'Oil' and
'Customized'. "If you want an enema made out of one of those
liquids, the Machine will automatically take into consideration
their chemical properties and adjust the variables by itself. For
example, if you set the temperature too high for an oil enema,
the Machine will lower the temperature to a level good enough to
avoid internal burning. Also, if you choose to put milk in one of
the reservoir of the tank, the Machine will make sure to keep it
cold enough, so it doesn't perish," he told her, proud to
illustrate the features. "One reservoir can also be used to
customize your own concoction, with our help or all by yourself.
You can put a mix of the main liquids, add some other ingredients
to them like soap or lemon juice... your imagination is the limit
there! We have some enema recipes that we can deliver to our
customers upon request," he assured her with a casual wave of the
hand.

He then pressed the 'Milk' button. "It will be very nice to see
the tube becoming creamy white, don't you think?," he asked the
woman and she could only nod in appreciation of his insightful
initiative.

"Well, then, everything in now ready! All you have to do is to
push the big and round 'Start' button down here," he concluded,
stepping aside as Tammy's mother placed herself in front of the
console again, a clear expression of satisfaction and excitement
in her eyes. Slowly, looking at the tube penetrating her
daughter's bottom from the corner of the room, she approached the
button with her slightly trembling hand...

Torments in the Abandonment

Although her hand had been trembling in excitement seconds
before, it was with a strong push, full of conviction, that she
hit the 'Start' button.

"With such grace!," the man exclaimed with a broad smile.

The cold milk started to invade Tammy's rectum at once, making
her scream in surprise more than pain at this point.

Then, for the first time since she realized where she was
(although she still was not sure where was anyway), she saw the
tall and imposing figure of her mother standing in front of her,
arms crossed against her large breasts. The sight of a familiar
face, at last. The milk, quickly filling her tummy with coldness,
made her moan in discomfort.

"Mommy! W... what is... happening? W...why?," she questioned her
mother, her eyes wet, as streams of tears full of incomprehension
flooded her lovely cheeks.

"Well, sweetheart, you have been a very bad girl lately and
frankly, Mommy has reached the point where she cannot take
anymore of your bad behaviour," the woman replied in a soft
matter-of-factly kind of voice, her stern face impassive. Her
hair, brought neatly on her head, almost gave her an austere
military look. "But see how much I love you, Tammy," she
continued, as she caressed her daughter's wet hair with a strong
hand, "and what I am willing to go through to make sure you
behave like the best little girl. This machine is extremely
expensive, but I have the very best of your interests at heart
and I really don't mind such petty details," she told her, a tiny
smile now forming on her lips as she looked down her screaming
little one with her deep-green eyes.

Tammy's abdomen was already distended most painfully by the three
quarts of milk as the first two-minute injection cycle ended.

"Do you see how big your daughter's tummy is now, Madam? That is
another interesting feature of the Machine: we could have
designed it in a way to install the child on her back, but we
thought the punishment would be much more intense - and
effective! - by adding the pressure of the filled tummy on the
padding, you see?," he pointed out to her, as his hand reached
out and pressed down slightly on Tammy's lower back, increasing
her torment.

"Mommy! It hurts!," Tammy wailed loudly as the cold milk was now
taking a long, twenty-minute break in her tight tummy.

"How many of those did you sell so far?," the woman casually
asked the seller, not minding the screams erupting from the
child's mouth, inches from where she was standing, talking in
between them.

"Well, we sold about five hundred of the first model. This model
is brand new; we completed its design barely three months ago.
You will actually be the third buyer of the second model. An
Australian couple, parents to a twelve-year-old teenage girl and
a single, Swedish father of a four-year-old girl bought our first
two," he explained, clearly satisfied. "We expect to sell many
more copies of our second model, though, as our waiting list has
now reached 9 months. You couldn't have chosen a better timing to
place your order as you should be getting your machine in about
three weeks," he said, reassuring her. "In the meantime, our
technicians will go to your place and install the reservoir and
all the plumbing, so everything is nice and ready by the time you
receive your order. Why don't we go finalize the paperwork while
the retention cycle does its work?," he suggested, walking away
from the table.

The woman nodded curtly and followed the man in the adjacent
room.

Both returned into the room about ten minutes later, just in time
to hear the Machine come loudly into life again, a vacuuming
sound now coming from within the pillar. A short instant later,
milk could be seen flowing slowly through the lower section of
the transparent tube.

"It will take the Machine, then, 8 minutes to extract the milk
from your daughter's rectum and colon," the man explained, as he
placed himself behind the table and crouched down a bit, looking
at Tammy's huge abdomen. "It can always be amusing to watch the
girl's tummy getting back to its original size," he suggested, as
the mother got behind the table as well. Her daughter's immature
vulva was also in clear view, just under the milk-filled enema
tube, the labia slightly parted to reveal a tiny bit of her
vaginal opening.

"And that concludes the first cycle, as you were able to witness
closely this time," he said, as the last remnants of milk were
sucked down the pillar. Immediately after, the sucking sound
subsided and was replaced by the normal humming as milk started
to flow back in the now limp little girl.

"As you know, there are six other cycles to go before your
daughter's enema comes to an end. It might be a good thing to
increase the room's ambient temperature a bit to counter the
coldness of the milk, since she has another three hours to go,"
he explained to her, as he walked to a thermostat nearby, turning
it clockwise.

The mother then walked to her daughter again, rubbing her
shoulders, neck and hair. "See, honey, there's nothing
complicated about it: you misbehave, you get punished. And you
already went through the first cycle like a good girl," she said
softly, the necessity to talk louder than her daughter's screams
now futile, since she was merely sobbing at this point. The three
quarts of milk now inside her did not even make her cry this
time. Tammy knew there was nothing she could do, nothing she
could even say that would make it all stop. She just endured what
was happening to her, trying to imagine she was in another place,
a peaceful beach perhaps, in some tropical country. But the
eternal snows kept coming back at her, depriving her from her
paradise, as the cold pain took over her attempts to escape in
her imagination.

She was barely hearing her mother and the man talk anymore.
Everything seemed to be fading away around her and yet she could
still feel everything in her bottom and her tummy. She wanted her
surroundings to be like that of a dream. She wanted to fly, not
having to use her arms and legs. She knew it was not possible.

Then her sobbing stopped completely. She rested her left cheek
gently on the padding. She knew she had been bad. Could she
really blame her mother for taking care of her? For wanting the
best for her? She loved her mother so much. Thinking for the
first time about how she had let her down, about how selfish she
had been by misbehaving like she did, she closed her eyes and let
silent tears of shame fall down on the table. She no longer
wished to escape her fate: she accepted it.