Daddy Knows Best
Daddy told me a week ago that I had to leave the door open when I went to the potty; all babygirls needed to be supervised when using the bathroom. I was appalled. I didn’t want him or anyone watching me use the toilet! Of course, it only took one time for him to catch me with the door closed for me to learn my lesson.
He yanked my bum right off that toilet right in the middle of my peeing! He dragged me down the hall with my pants around my ankles and then put me over his lap and delivered twenty-five really hard smacks with the paddle across my rump. I screamed and cried for him to stop. Naturally that didn’t work any, it only made him do it harder. By the time he was finished I had tinkle dribbling down my legs because I wasn’t finished when he caught me with the door closed.
It even got on his jeans, how embarrassing for me! A grown woman pissing herself. He was not happy with that and told me that big girls didn’t pee themselves, especially not when they’re on Daddy’s lap. He delivered two more smacks to my already cherry red bum and half pushed, half pulled me off his lap. Off to the bathroom we headed and he stripped my clothes right off and plunked me onto the potty again.
I had to pee in front of him, with him watching. I blushed right down to my toes I think. When I was finished he made me get into the shower and wash myself up with him still watching me. Those two things should have cured me of being embarrassed in front of Daddy. Still I held onto my modesty and refused to defecate in front of him, that was just too personal. He knew it was just a matter of time until I had to.
And he made me a list of rules too! Number one was that I had to ASK him before babygirl could go potty. That was so that he could watch. Number two was that the door always had to be open when I went. He said that those were to get rid of all my modesty and so that I’d submit to him completely. I thought that the incident where I pottied on his leg had gotten rid of all my modesty. Boy was I wrong. I still had a lot more to learn over the next few days. I refused to go poop in his presence. Daddies are usually right, and this case was like no other.
I held it as long as I could. Every time the urge hit me to go poop I held it. Daddy looked at me and my discomfort and knew exactly what was wrong. The only thing he told me on the first day was, “Babygirl, you’ll have to go sometime. If you don’t go soon you’ll need an enema.”
The second day I fought the urge to go poop again. I thought that if he wasn’t around I could sneak to the potty and tend to my business without him watching. At night, perhaps. He outsmarted me and put a small chain around my ankle and a lock! it was long enough where I wasn’t uncomfortable trying to sleep but I did have to wake him in order to go potty.
Peeing in front of him wasn’t so bad any more; I didn’t blush every time after a while. It became second nature for me to ask before going and I became used to his following me and making sure the door was open. But he knew that I hadn’t gone number two, and that I was getting mighty uncomfortable.
On the third day he told me again, “Babygirl, the longer you wait the worse it’s going to be. You’ll have to ask me to give you an enema now that you’ve waited this long because it’s the only way you’ll be able to potty now.”
That really weighed on my mind. I’d have to ASK him to give me an enema? Ohhh no, I couldn’t do that and blushed at the very thought. Not only did he expect me to poo in front of him, he was going to make me ask for an enema. This man was insane, he was downright sadistic…but he knew that I was doing this to myself.
Finally the morning of the fourth day I was really uncomfortable, I’d not pooped in four days! It was sheer torture, but it was all self-inflicted. It was mind over matter. All I had to do was ask and I’d have relief. But the bad part was now that I was so miserable, I knew he was right. I’d need an enema to be able to relieve myself.
I went and crawled in Daddy’s lap and very quietly whispered to him, “Daddy, I need to potty and it’s number two.” I couldn’t bring myself to ask for the dreaded enema even though I knew that’s what was needed. I hoped he’d just do it and not make me voice those words.
The man was true to his word. He followed me to the toilet and I sat. Nothing happened. Nothing was going to come out, it’d been four days and I was constipated. Daddy watched me and my inner struggle. He knew I didn’t want to ask and he saw how deeply I blushed.
Almost inaudibly I said, “Daddy, I need help to potty, I can’t go.” He wasn’t going to let me get by that easily though.
“What is it babygirl that you need to be able to go potty? And you need to speak up if you expect me to hear you, girlie.” He inquired innocently. Like he didn’t know! The man knew exactly what it was I needed. He was going to make me actually say those words even though I didn’t want to. This was the final barrier of my modesty…or so I thought.
I sighed and tossed the last shred of my modesty to the wind, “Your babygirl needs an enema to be able to go potty because she’s been silly and held it for four days, Daddy.” He smiled at me and warmly took my hands, then kissed me softly.
“Good girl, I’ll make it up for you now. You know that if you’d have tended your business the first day then you’d not be in this predicament.” He turned and pulled an enema bag out of the cabinet, turned on the water to warm, then got a bar of soap and proceeded to shave some off the side of it, dropping the shavings into the enema bag.
He very carefully cut a piece off one side and laid it on the edge of the sink as I watched intently, shaking slightly on the potty. I’d never had an enema, even as a child, and I was strangely curious as to how this was going to happen and what it’d feel like. Would it hurt? Would it be pleasurable? Would it actually make me go poop and give me the relief I so desperately needed?
Once the bag was filled with warm water and all the soap shavings, he mixed it. He then hung the bag on the towel bar and attached a long piece of tubing to it. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, there was no way that all that water would fit inside me!
Finally he turned back to me and said, “Babygirl, I need you to take your pants off and get onto your knees on the floor. Then put your head down on this towel.” He pointed to the folded towel and then helped me to the floor as I slid out of my jeans, shaking all over.
“First I’m going to put a bit of lube onto your bottom, then I’m going to put this piece of soap into your bum. It’s to help you to poo like you should have four days ago.” He didn’t want me to be scared, I knew that. Daddy was always good at making me comfortable when he did things, even if they were unpleasant. True to his word he applied a bit of lube onto my bum and worked his finger in and out slowly, allowing me to relax. Once I was relaxed he ever so gently put the piece of soap there and pushed it inside.
“Now babygirl, I’m going to insert the nozzle and let you get used to it, then I’ll turn on the water and let it flow very slowly into you. That’s going to wash everything out.” Then I felt the end of the enema nozzle press against my tight hole. Steadily he applied pressure and it went inside me. Once I was ok with that I heard the clamp click and then felt a trickle of water inside me. Not too fast, just like he promised. Daddy was always so good about being true to his word.
“Dear, if you have any tummy cramps then let me know and I’ll slow it down for you so that they stop.” Softly stroking my back and keeping me relaxed he softly murmured to me to keep my nerves calmed. After about 10 minutes I had a cramp and almost uncontrollable urge to go.
“Ohh, Daddy I really need to go, now!” Rubbing my tummy and clamping off the flow, he reassured me that I was ok. Those things fixed my need to go and allowed me to take some more of the warm fluid into my bottom.
Turning it back on, he allowed me to take some more of it into my bowels. A total of thirty minutes later I was shocked to learn that I’d taken every bit of what was in that bag into me. My tummy felt really full and swollen.
He helped me to my feet and sat me onto the toilet. “Babygirl, now you’re going to really feel like you need to go. Anytime is good, you’ve done excellent and taken all the enema, just like a good girl that I know you are.”
Now I’d peed in front of him, on him, asked for an enema and received one. There was no more modesty left in me. I let go and felt the huge rush of fluid come out of me and into the toilet. Finally after four day I got relief and felt hugely better.
Daddy always knows best what his babygirl needs. Next time I won’t wait for four days to poop, I’ll ask him when I need to go and then do it.