It’s the second Loki Renard newsletter! Complete with exclusive previews and excerpts and enemas (strictly one enema per reader).
“Toxins are building up in your body,” he said. “That’s what’s causing the fever. It’s only going to get higher and worse. Your liver and kidneys are going to shut down. There aren’t going to be enough painkillers on this ship to mask the agony you feel as you die from organ failure if I don’t do this now.”
When he put it that way, it did sound serious. “Okay,” she said. “You should have told me that first instead of wasting time smacking me.”
“I didn’t want to frighten you,” Rake said, turning away to go through the medical supplies. “This is a quick and easy fix if I get the right solution into you. Assume the position please, young lady.”
Lyra did as she was told, hating every second of it. The cloying sense of nausea seemed much more ominous now and all she wanted was for the procedure to be over. Easier to call it a procedure than an enema, even in her mind.
“Okay,” Rake said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m ready. Just try to relax, okay?”
She nodded and shut her eyes. With her eyes shut she could maybe pretend that what was happening wasn’t actually happening. That plan lasted about as long as it took for Rake to part her bottom cheeks and dab cool lubricant against her anus.
“Oh, my god,” Lyra groaned.
“It’s okay,” Rake soothed. “You’re doing fine.”
She felt something long and hard nuzzling at the lubricated aperture and let out a little hiss of surprise. Slowly but surely, the end of the enema nozzle began to sink inside her body, taking her in a place she’d never been taken before. Rake seemed almost practiced in the art of giving an enema; she felt it in the sureness of his touch and the way the nozzle moved inside her with little resistance.
“Take it out,” she whimpered softly.
“Soon,” he said. “Just try to relax.”
He might as well have told her to get up from the bed and try to fly. It was impossible to relax with her bottom full of hard plastic being propelled by the hand of a strong man. It seemed to take an eternity for him to be satisfied that it was in the right position.
“There,” he said, patting her bottom gently. “That’s perfect.”
Lyra let out a little groan of pure mortification.
“You’re going to feel a lot better soon,” he promised as a trickle of warm liquid began to seep inside her bottom.