A New Computer, Losing Track of The Days (Cont.)

(Originally written as one post, it had to break this up into two due to that pesky word limit.)

It was now laying in several inches of it's own filth, that coated it's skin and saturated it's hair. It's task now was to edge five times. It did these as quickly as possible, with finding any pleasure, even the kind that can't be released, terribly difficult in such circumstances, and then shameful once it happened. It indicated that somewhere in it's brain there was enjoyment of this terrible torture.

After edging five times it turned on the shower to cold water. It gasped, taking all of it's willpower to not recoil from the cold water that now so happened to hit right between it's legs. Edging now was terribly difficult and must have taken a half hour to get the first couple. The next were easier with it's pussy now wet and crying for more. That tends to be the case with multiple edges, the first few are difficult to arrive at, taking several minutes and the last several can be completed in quick succession.

It turned the water off, that now nearly had it submerged, forcing it to prop it's head up uncomfortably to just barely keep it's mouth out of the putrid water all while shivering violently and crying. It hopes that this wasn't against the parameters of the punishment.

It both dreaded and looked forward to it's next punishment, demonstrating that it was now on the bottom of Maslow's hierarchy, desiring the warmth of the enema water and the fact that it would cleanse it's bowels of the foul mixture from before. It struggled into the knee chest position, turning it's head so that only half of it's face had to be in the putrid water .

It was difficult while shivering to get the nozzle into it's anus, but it managed, turning to sugar water on quickly and relishing the warmth flooding it's insides. After this it added the baking soda solution, and at first it was fairly pleasant compared to say, a castile soap solution. This pleasantness wouldn't last.

After inserting the plug it rolled onto it's back in the putrid water and awaited the inevitable torture this as of yet pleasant enema was about to wreak. It noted a strange emotion, that of being betrayed. As if the enema was a person that offered an escape from torture only to betray it.

It did not wait long for this betrayed, as the enema seemingly exploded inside of it. It could visibly see it's abdomen, already visibly full from two liters of solution swell more and more. It clutched it's swollen tummy, again crying like a small child, calling out to master as if it was calling out for it's mother. The pain wasn't as bad as the first mixture but it was still terrible. An ordeal that just kept getting worse.

It looked as if it was in the early stages of pregnancy, and the cramps were awful, as bad if not worse than the cramps of the first mixture, amplified perhaps in that they were not competing for brain capacity with burning.

It surrendered quicker this time, laying back in the putrid remains of of the last ordeal to wait for permission to expel the second enema. Hoping that this doesn't break the parameters of the punishment, it forced itself to masturbate, inserting a few fingers and rubbing it's clitoris every so often to keep it's pussy wet, making it's next edges come easier.

after another eternity the timer buzzed and it removed the plug. The enema mixture, now a brown foam, exploded from it's anus, the explosion occurring centimeters from the surface of the putrid water from before and coating the sides of the bathtub. It let out an animalistic groan of relief as it emptied itself, lying back in the now even deeper filth-water and panting, an inebriated smile crossing it's lips, eyes closed.

It immediately capitalized on this pleasure of relief and came to the edge quickly, edging again and again before turning on the water and edging more. It would later be terribly ashamed of it allowing itself to feel good at such a time, but the ordeal had brought it down to an animal that took whatever pleasure it could get in moment. Like an abused dog being given a treat.

The final edge was exceptionally close and audibly stopped itself, squeezing it's eyes shut and holding it's breath as if the orgasm was about to come but then not allowing anything to happen. So much energy built up only for nothing to happen. It was awful. Having not orgasmed since it's ownership it has forgotten what one really feels like, beginning instead the relish the moments leading up to one.

It stood up and emptied the tub, cleaning it out before cleaning itself off with more cold water and then going to sleep on master's floor in master's room, window wide open no covers. Warmth was not a luxury it had earned.

Alas it has so much more to discuss, it will be one first thing after school tomorrow to continue it's account of it's month long absence, it promises! It is feeling akin to the feeling it has when edging, leaving the story off without finishing it, but it's late and it has school tomorrow.