I didn’t want to come from anal.

I don’t know why. I believed I wouldn’t be able to, and i didn’t want to try. When he told me I couldn’t touch anymore, that I couldn’t edge anymore until I learn to cum from anal, I was upset.

I told him he was being too mean. Ironic that I, the girl who begged him for cruelty, the girl who swoons when he is cold, would tell him that it was too much, but it was too much. It had been four days of anal only, and I was breaking. I was fragile.

I came home last night, needing him, wanting him, aching for his attention, his care. And he was gentle, sweet. And he said “I found something special for you, baby.”

The recording.

The perfect recording.

Within seconds my mind was fading. Hypnosis is one of those things that I never thought I was into, but works amazingly well on me. Sometimes I forget how to cum. Sometimes I forget my own name. Sometimes I’m just his dirty plaything.

The first time he didn’t even let me touch. I sat there, my legs spread, my eyes closing, my mind fading, my cunt leaking. The second time he let me hump and I humped like I never have before. I came so close, but I couldn’t cum, he wouldn’t let me cum. When it ended, I cried. The third time I was back to anal only.

I listened a few more times but by then my mind was mush. I couldn’t think. I think I cried a bit. He wouldn’t let me touch no matter how much I begged. I listened for more than two hours, over and over and over again, and then I broke.

The aftercare was good. He still wouldn’t let me touch, but I clung to him, wanting him, needing him. He owns me, and I couldn’t do anything except submit to him. My whole mind was his. My whole body gave everything over to him.

It was perfect. 

But he said I was still on anal only.

We continued today. There’s so much more that happened today. The crotch rope. The menthol. How much I cried and begged and argued. How scared I got, and how he comforted me. He was so mean to me. I told him I had an idea, and he said “I don’t want to hear it”, and if I could’ve touched, I would’ve cum from just that. 

I begged to touch my clit while I was fucking my ass. I told him it would feel better if I could touch my clit while fucking my ass.

“I don’t care. Shut up, you little anal whore and fuck it. Your cunt is out of bounds.”

I cried. I thought about safewording. I told him I wanted to safeword but I also didn’t want to stop it. Eventually, as he soothed me, I calmed down, and I plugged my ass again. 

And then, a few hours later, I got some bad news. News we were expecting, but which made me sad anyway. I tried not to shatter, but there were some cracks. I asked to touch again. I begged to touch again.

And after making me listen to the recording one more time, he said yes.

And then I couldn’t stop. I edged, and I listened, and I edged, and I listened again, for hours. Hours, until my clit was sore. I told him it was time to stop, and he said no, keep going. I told him I was getting sore, and he said good. I told him I’d had enough touching and he said, maybe I’d learn to do as I am told then. He said he wanted me on anal only. He said I was a bad girl.

The cracks broke further. I listened to the recording again. And I shattered.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please. Please Sir. I’m sorry. I want to be a good girl. Make me a good girl again. I’m sorry.”

He shushed me. “I know you are. Make your clit suffer for me.” 

Who knew touching could turn out to be a punishment. 

I got close, so close, too close. I apologised and I begged and I edged and I suffered.

“Good girl,” he finally said, and relief washed over me. I was his good girl again.

“Good girl. That’s enough for today. Anal only again tomorrow.”

I didn’t want to cum from anal only. I didn’t think I could, and I didn’t want to try.

He made me edge until my mind broke.

I still don’t think I can. 

He made me edge until my mind broke.

I am still scared of being on anal only.

He made me edge.

I still don’t want to be on anal only.

But for him. For him, I’ll try.

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