Boris pushes the black beads into Vanna’s asshole. The nylon string holds six beads, with about an inch between each. At the end of the string is a little ring for pulling it out. “Hold still,” Boris says to Vanna, who is on her back on the mattress in the corner, her legs up over her head. “I’ve just got a couple more to go. There. Only two to go. Oh, baby, you’re so hot in there.” Boris takes his time fitting the final two beads. “This is going to feel so good when you’re sitting in your meeting,” Boris tells her. “Then when you get them home, I’m gonna pop them out. I might pop them out all at once, like little firecrackers. Or I might pop them out real slow, like a big fat frog. And then when they’re all out, I’m gonna fuck you there. I might put it in real slow, like a big fat frog pushing in in in. Or I might jam it in, like fire engines rushing to a fire. Your ass is so hot, baby. So fucking hot.”

“But what if I have to go?” Vanna asks. “It feels like that right now. Like I have to go.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to go,” Boris assures her. “We’ve cleaned you all out. We’ve cleaned you out real good.”

“But if feels like it,” Vanna says.

“That’s good,” Boris says. “That’s how it’s suppose to feel. Now be a good girl and go to your meeting. And then come straight home. I’ll be waiting.”

Vanna returns home in tears.

“How was the meeting?” Boris asks.

“Horrible!”

“Oh, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“It was. It was worse. Really, really shitty. I was so embarrassed. I was so flustered. I couldn’t say anything coherent. I really made a mess of it.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“I did! The whole time I felt like I had to go. Like there was this big fat frog trying to squeeze out of me. Like I was leaking. Mr. Westerbrook asked if anything was wrong. I almost burst into tears. I should have. I should have cried and gone to the restroom and...”

“But you stuck it out?”

“I did. I don’t know why.”

“Because you’re a good girl.”

“I’m not a good girl. I stink at being a good girl.”

“No you don’t. Now slide down those pants and panties and get on all fours and let me take a look.”

Vanna shucks down her pants and panties and lies down on the mattress on her back. She lifts her legs up over her head.

“No,” Boris says. “On all fours. Didn’t you hear me.” He swats Vanna on her bottom, a good solid cuff. The sound of the slap snaps through the room and quivers Vanna’s bottom flesh, though her boyish hips are not especially well padded. The pink of her butt reddens immediately. Immediately she scrambled over onto her hands and knees. Her thin arms tremble. Her small breasts sway. Boris smacks her other butt cheek.

“Ouch,” Vanna yelps. “What was that for?”

“Balance,” Boris says. “Now put your head down and get your ass up.”

Vanna ducks her head to the mattress.

“Oh, yeah!” Boris says. “Your ass looks so cute with the little tab sticking out. Like one of those talking mama dolls. If I pull the string will you say, ‘Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me with your big fat dick.’? Well, go ahead. Say it. What are you waiting for?”

“You didn’t pull the string.”

Boris smacks her ass, harder than before.

“Ouch!”

“Say it!” Boris smacks her again on the other side.

“Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck my ass with your big fat dick.”

“That’s good,” Boris says. “But I didn’t say ‘fuck my ass.’ You’ve got to learn to listen. And that pretty peach of yours looks so delicious. I bet it’s really juicy inside. Is it? Is it really ripe and ready for fucking?”