[AnalAddict]

I’m in a strange mood today. I’m craving submission, and yet I can’t seem to sink into the feeling like I usually do. MadScience’s ‘extra training’ struck me as perfect—it messes with my mind and pushes me out of my comfort zone.

Second training, so I knew the drill. Strip, assemble my dildos, my large plug, mirror, and my filled enema bag to take with me in the shower. Despite being plugged the entire day, the 40 strokes of my 9 inch dildo left me gasping with the stretch and depth, aching to go fast while knowing my only option was to go slow so I didn’t edge without permission. It gave me the singular delight of feeling every inch move in and out of me. I inserted the other dildo in my pussy, clamping down my muscles to try and hold it in. I could of course squeeze my thighs shut, but that would defeat the task MadScience carefully designed for me, so I kept my legs spread enough to make it a challenge while I sucked the 9 inch dildo clean. Obviously I lost the struggle against gravity and wetness once more, and the dildo dropped on the shower floor after a few minutes. I looked as flustered as I felt in the mirror.

I noticed a few small differences in this training, though I’m not sure if they’re related to my mood or my ability to take an enema. I seemed to have less trouble taking the 2 liters this time, and the cramping was less pointed and more a general feeling of bloating and unease, slowly growing into discomfort and a slow, intense cramping that had me wonder when the timer would go off. This time there was no shame while I stood in the shower, ass plugged, 9 inches filling my mouth and 8 inches in my pussy. Instead, there was a drive to make it intense, hard. I choked on the dildo while I slammed the other one inside of my dripping pussy, as deep as it would go. Ten, twenty hard thrusts, before I had to slow to stay off the edge. Slower until the intensity had waned a little and I could drive the 8 inches into me again with enough force to make me gasp. The sounds—gagging, the dildo slapping against my flesh, the wetness I fucked it into—drove me mindless. And while the cramping got worse toward the end, it fit with the intensity of the fucking I was giving myself. By the time I looked at myself in the mirror before releasing the enema, I was panting, eyes glittering with need and skin flushed.

Knowing I might enjoy the final assfucking as punishment for dropping the dildo a little too much, I decided to take it laying down on my stomach to make the fit even tighter. Forcing the thickness of the dildo inside of me that way required force, a steady pressure to get it inside me, and allowed me to experience every inch, in breath-taking detail. I felt full and used and a little desperate. There was no slow build toward an edge that I simply needed to stop in time. Instead, the intensity and the pressure nearly broke me before it suddenly turned into a dark pleasure, which had me stop thrusting immediately to avoid crashing over the edge.

I don’t even know how to describe what went through me when I was done, trying to catch my breath, still on my stomach with an ass that burned and a pussy so wet it left a spot on the mattress. It wasn’t submission per se. But it sure as hell was a mindfuck that left me reeling and off-balance and in a much better place. I guess desperation suits me.