Do Me Bleach My Butt Novels & Stories

I hopped off the table and looked at it. “I guess I’m bleaching that in a minute.” His laugh was deep and rich, and it made me smile. It was contagious and addictive, and I found myself giggling as I grabbed the bleach spray and a cloth. I coated the table in the spray and scrubbed it. “Do you often clean in the nude?” I glanced over my shoulder to see his pants back on. “Nope. This is a special show just for you.” He smacked my ass. “Tease.”

His gaze was dark and unreadable. My moan caught in my throat in an instant, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me as I hurriedly sat up straight. "Uncle Theo, you're back." Worried that he would find out I had been running laps as punishment, I guiltily reached out to turn off the massage gun. However, in my panic, I accidentally pressed the button to change it to the highest speed instead. And so, a strangely shaped object protruded from between my legs while a loud buzz cut through the silence of the room.

I continued hissing at myself. I reached for some tissues and began cleaning my juice that was on the desk. I had to make him pay for this humiliation. I had to make him beg. Make him squeal until his cum messes up his desk. I paused, mid stroke. What was I thinking? Why was I thinking of having sex with him? Making him beg? Making him squeal? I grunted and wiped the table aggressively like that could erase the mistake I had made. My phone buzzed and the screen flicked. A message popped up on the notification bar.

Then he continued to go to the bathroom. Doris felt shameless to say that, her face was red now, it was like a tomato, she asked herself: - Why am I so shameless?

I can hear their screams and shouts of both agony and rage making me smile in satisfaction. I'm just glad the whole shop was soundproof. “These would be a good addition to my collection,” I informed him absentmindedly while reaching for the bleach on the cabinet below the table. “This would hurt but you'll live,” I mumble as I washed his wounds with bleach. Scream after scream erupted from his mouth while his body convulsed uncontrollably as the pain intensified. “Pl-please ju-just ki…kil…kill me.” He croaked out in a barely audible voice before passing out.

He smiled back at me, showing me a set of dimples. I scurried into the bathroom, locking the door, although that doesn’t seem to stop him, it still makes me feel a bit better. I ran the shower and stripped. After checking the water and getting under the stream I breathed out a sigh. I washed my hair and then squeezed a generous amount of vanilla soap onto a loofah and began scrubbing furiously, trying to remove the feel of his hands. After scrubbing for 20 minutes I finally got out. I rubbed my belly and remembered why I was doing all this. For them. For my babies and for my mates. But will I survive the guilt? Will I retain my sanity? I’m not sure yet but I have to try to get out of here so

Not like they ever will. I take my clothes off and examine myself in the bathroom mirror. There are a lot of bruises and for the most part, my skin is red and there are even bits of blood on some of the bruises, but the good thing here is that I have the new anti-septic to clean it up. I change the water settings to warm, but not too warm. Basically, it is almost hot, and I let the water run down my body, occasionally squirming in pain as it hits my bruises.

I go into the bathroom and explain to Cole that Marcus is going to fuck me which he finds very exciting. "Do you need help with anything?" Cole asks when I get a spare enema kit from under the sink. "You get in the shower while I do this, I'll manage." I blush. Cole kisses my cheek and gets into the shower and starts washing himself. I fill the small bulb shaped thing with warm water and look at it with a grimace. I've only had to do this once before and I didn't enjoy it. I put one leg on the toilet seat and bend forward so I can insert the thin nozzle into my asshole and squeeze the water inside. Why did I think this was a good idea?

NOT EDITED I looked at the stack of bedsheets, ready for me. I sighed in frustration and set it down on the laundry basket. Focusing on this white bedsheet felt like a real struggle, especially when the stain wouldn’t come out easily. “I should have done this earlier,” I gasped as soon as an idea struck me. I saw a bottle of bleach in the corner. They are gazing at me, anticipating my arrival. I looked at my fingers, offering them my apologies. They don’t deserve what I went through. I took the bottle of bleach and poured it into the washing machine without a second thought.

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