Parole Officer (Pt. 3)

"Margaret, Margaret, Maggie. Wakeup!" Margaret's stepmother said, shaking the sleeping girl. Waking with wide eyes and beginning to stutter out a reply, Margaret realized she left the pacifier in her mouth while she slept. Her gloved hands prevented her from removing it.

"What's up?" She tried to say, only to be reduced to simple gurgling through the pacifier. Her stepmother sat her up and pulled the pacifier out from her mouth, allowing her to repeat herself.

"Remember, we need to get you started on an enema before your parole officer arrives! Here, come on!" Margaret's stepmother said, pulling the still out of it girl from the bedroom and into a nearby bathroom. The revelation hit Margaret like a truck, as she 'remembered' (fake) memories of being told that by her stepmother, and how she needed an enema in front of her Parole Officer.

Reaching the bathroom, Margaret rationalized what was happening as her stepmother kept her moving; she was happy Margaret seemed to be doing nothing but being compliant. After all, she had promised the Parole Officer and his boss to witness how she had to give 'Messy Maggie' an enema just to make sure she didn't make a mess any where. Doctor's orders, after all.

"Phew! Maggie, you nearly broke filled this diaper to it's limit. Just what is your momma feeding you!?!?" Margaret's stepmother said, undoing the tapes around the diaper and letting it hit the ground. To Margaret, it was a grotesque reminder of an accident; to her stepmother, a triumph of the gel suppositories'.

"I'm....I'm sorry. I just keep having accident after accident. Please, I promise this is new!" Margaret cried, her anguish mixing with the hangover and withdrawal to make her statement incredibly emotive. Margaret's stepmother noticed light tears at the corner of the girls eyes.

Patting the girls back, she consoled her and tried her best to assuage her cries. "Margaret, I'm not mad. Stress gets to you. Especially stresses for a cloistered girl like you. Here, bend over sweet thing."

Margaret listened to her stepmother's words, glad to have been soothed with their honey. It helped her stop from screaming as she felt something touch against her butt, then butthole. Jumping, she only stopped when her stepmother spoke up.

"Margaret, please. I know it's not comfy. Just relax, a mother knows how to do these things." Her stepmother said, convincing the girl just enough to allow the nozzle of the enema equipment into her body. A warm liquid began to rush into Margaret, and she felt her stomach begin to swell slightly, then more, and more, and finally, she noticed her stomach really pushing out. It was little more then a bump, but it was noticeable.

"Ugh. Ow. Um. Ugh..." Margaret repeated over and over, hating the sensation. Her stepmother cajooled her, rubbing her back and giving her a baby bottle. The mix of liquor and fruit juice hit her hard, and soothed the pain.

"Maggie, remember my bitch neighbor with noises. Here's your pacie." Her stepmother said, letting Margaret gag herself; surprised at how...easy this had all been, Margaret's stepmother felt emboldened.

Her guests would be here any minute.

In all his years of criminal justice, the Chief of Local Parole Operations had seen many things. Some funny, others sad, and some just downright weird or unexplainable. What stood in front of him was very much the latter.

"See, Maggie needs one of these every morning. Even after filling up her pampers..." Margaret's stepmother said, gesturing to what was still at the girls ankles. Next to the overfilled diaper was a baby bottle. "...My messy girl needs one."

"Um. Alright." The Chief and his officer said, clearly disturbed. "I understand. We're just here for the document you promised. Doctor's note?" He pleaded, clearly not wanting to spend a minute more.

"Are you sure you don't want more details? See, it's soapy water, she'll need a second, of course. Here, you can hold the bag..." Margaret's stepmother gestured, making the man back up.

Once he had a copy of the Doctor's note from the day prior, the Chief fled the scene quicker then any criminal ever might. Neither he nor his officer would want to be back.

"Whew! They certainly ran like bat's out of hell, didn't they!" Margaret's stepmother said to herself as Margaret stood there, standing for another few seconds with the water filling her body. It had been what felt like hours with the liquid in her body. The only thing that stopped Margaret's body from rejecting the liquid was the nozzle in her bum.

Looking at her stepmother with wide eyes, Margaret got her message across, as pity filled her face.

"I'm so sorry Maggie!" Her stepmother said, moving her from her current standing position to sitting on the toilet. Once the nozzle came out, Margaret felt the sensation of instant relief as what she felt like her guts spilled out.

After taking that promised 2nd enema, Margaret hopped in the shower, and felt cleaner then she had in well...years. If she gave credit to one thing from that enema, it certainly did empty her out from the crap she had eaten in the past few days. Stepping out from the shower, Margaret allowed herself to stretch and enjoy the relative relaxation of the bathroom. The door opened, and Margaret nearly yelled until she realized it was her stepmother.

"Oh, Margaret. I'm sorry dear. Living alone all these years has made me forget my manners like knocking. Could you forgive me?" Her stepmother asked.

"Of course!" Margaret said, smiling. She realized her mistreatment of her stepmother for all these years had isolated the woman. The **** spoke up in her system, giving her the most pleasant buzz.

"Want to get dressed, or are we streaking all day?" Margaret's stepmother said, causing a giggle from the girl.

"Get dressed. Unless we're streaking together." She said, causing a hearty (false) laugh from her stepmother.

First came the diaper, with little to no protest from Margaret. Putting on the dress she had got from the thrift store a few days prior, Margaret admired herself in the mirror as her stepmother put the bows in her hair. Just as she was about to speak up, her stomach grumbled. Loudly. It demanded something.

Filled to her content with bacon, scrambled eggs, spiked coffee, and cereal, Margaret sat back in the wooden. Life felt grand, and she only moved to the couch with some urging by her stepmother.

"Want to do some yard-sale searching? It's a Saturday so I'm sure we'll find some stuff." Margaret's stepmother asked the girl. Her face gave a quick flash of 'no', which caused a reply from Margaret. "Oh, why do I even ask. I know it's a lame thing. I only started liking to because of your daddy..."

"We'll go." Margaret said, making sure she stuck by her promise: her stepmother wouldn't have to deal with being alone anymore.

Her stepmother stuck by her promise as well: bring Margaret down as much as possible.