This is part 3 of the saga. If you haven’t read the first two, go back and check them out: Part 1 Part 2
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As we walked around the store, I wasn’t ashamed of the baggy men’s clothes that I wore. However, after I spied an energy drink that I was craving as I had not had any caffiene that morning, I started to feel unsettled at the nothingness that was the pockets of the clothes that I was wearing.
Now, we’ve split dinner in the past and I let him cover a thing or two, usually insisting on paying for the next excursion or meal. This was different. He’d removed that option by locking away my wallet. He’d taken away my choice in buying myself something or at least letting him buy it for me. There was no “letting”. I had no choice, no control in the matter.
If I was to have it, I was going to have to ask him to buy it for me.
Now, one could argue that I did have a choice as to whether I was to ask him for the drink or to go without. To those people I would ask if they or if someone they know starts their morning with a caffinated beverage? To those very same people I’d ask what it is like to be a person or around said person who drinks caffiene every morning on a morning that they’ve gone without? No folks, unfortunately, it wasn’t much of a choice.
I now understood the concept of financial domination in a very direct sense.
I’m not a shy person, but when I walked over to him with the drink behind my back and looked up at him with my innocent wide eyes, I could barely answer him when he asked, “what is it, babydoll?”
I stuttered and murmurred a few vowel-ish sounds before I held out the drink. Still stuttering I asked, “D-do you think I c-can maybe get this?” My goodness that felt awkward. But he smiled his smile and assented and grabbed the can to put in the cart.
Well, if I thought that was embarrassing, I was in for a rude awakening. Normally, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by his command to go grab a Fleet enema, even if he said it a bit loud and other people waiting in the deli line turned around to look at us, but I was already well out of my comfort zone. I was in a town I didn’t know in a state I rarely frequented wearing clothes that belonged to a man twice the size of me and the only possessions I had on me were my ID and my cigarrettes.
So, looking down to avoid any scalding looks, I felt my cheeks grow hot as I wandered off to find the item. Truth be told, the only time I’ve cleaned myself out for anal is before I make porn. But if he wanted a clean asshole, that’s what he wanted and it’s what he’s going to get. I was beginning to get used to the idea at this point that he was in charge for the weekend.
-=Fast forward to scene after enema is completed (sorry, Lochai, it really isn’t my thing), Chinese food dinner is consumed, and a Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode is watched.=-
Tricera-top managed to pry himself out of the comfy cuddle we’d managed and went into his room. From my vantage point, I couldn’t see what he was doing exactly, but I knew he was rifling through his play bag and stiffened, both in anxious excitement and anxious foreboding. When he came out of the room he was holding buttplug that was well past a comfortable size.
“That’s HUGE!” I exclaimed, butt clenching as I sat up staight.
“Mhmm. About the size of my cock,” he said matter of factly. I gave him an incredulous look. As he came closer I deliberated and decided, indeed, it was the width of his cock, at least. His cock just didn’t look that big when it was attached to a hulk of a man.
He produced a Magnum condom and tied it over the buttplug, then handed me the newly wrapped toy and a bottle of lube. Following his instructions, I went into the bathroom and went about putting the thing in me. Using quite a bit of lube (I love lube, have I mentioned that?) I started to gingerly prod and poke and twist and press the thing in. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not used to big things in my anus, so yeah, I went through that momentary panic of “It’s not going to fit, no way, my hole can’t get any bigger!” I almost wish he’d tied me down and jammed it up there without any ceremony (ok, that sounds kind of hot, I’ll be filing that idea away for later) and came close to the point where I’d ask him to help when it slipped in.
I felt a millisecond of disbelief, then all I felt was pressure as my body adjusted to accommodate this intrusion. I came out with my hand on my belly and looked at him, uncomfortable and unsure. He put his arms around me and then led me by my hand to the bedroom where we messed around quite a bit as I got more used to the plug in my ass.
When he went for the condom, I felt unsure. All of the times I’d attempted double penetration with my toys, I’d slide one into one orifice just fine, but when I started to slide the 2nd toy in, the first popped out. Even when I held the first in, the second seemed to get “stuck” a quarter of the way in. It seemed like my body couldn’t accomodate two shafts unless they had the diameter of a roll of quarters. I was laying on my back and he positioned myself between my legs and slowly, slowly slid in.
I won’t lie, at first it hurt, even though he went in easy, but then again, so did anal the first time I tried it. I breathed through a few crampy twinges as he push all the way in and began to pump slowly in and out. Soon he was going faster and harder and any pain I felt dissolved and was simply replaced by this “full” sensation. I see this sensation of being “full” described all the time, even in erotic fiction, but now I know what it feels like. This wasn’t my first time doing double penetration, obviously, since there’s video evidence to the contrary. But it was my first time not doing it with my (smaller scale) toys and a hitachi to my clit. It was my first time not being tied in some kind of contorted position being beaten by god knows what while being filmed for a website. There was no rush of countless sensations making my brain go haywire. No, the only sensation was down there. The only sensation was how full I felt.
And it was amazing.
I was stuffed completely, but it wasn’t just the sensation of being stuffed that I was revelling in. The fact that I enjoyed the sensation of being stuffed was turning me on. Me?! The girl who once earned the nickname of “Baby Pussy” at Kink.com because of my tiny labia and tight hole? Why yes, now she’s a wanton slut who enjoys being penetrated by two fairly large objects…
The first orgasm hit me like a ton of bricks. I cried out (which is rare, ordinarily I’m silent except for my ridiculous “O-face”) and tensed so much I was afraid I’d push the plug out. Still flying from my orgasm, I felt a rush of euphoria realizing: This is him consuming me. Owning me. All of me. The second orgasm was slower, a tingling sensation that built up from my toes sizzling through my body before it washed over me. We continued like that for what seemed like hours, him pumping, me getting off every time I focused on how fucking full I was.
When it was over, we laid together until we could gather our wits together. Slowly escaping the post-sex haze, we started to de-tangle our intertwined bodies in an attempt to get moving. We still had plans for the evening.
