I’ve long had a love-like-dislike-embarrassment relationship with my arse. Not my cheeks – those I adore. But my rosebud. Little brown eyeball. Bunghole.
Yes, I think bunghole is the word I’m looking for. As I write these very words my hole, it is bunged. For I am in training. Tethys wants to fuck my arse when I arrive in Melbourne (and I definitely want my arse to be fucked – my cunt gets dripping wet at the very notion), but it’s not ready for the determined deliberate inevitable and inexorable cock of m’Lady’s ownership without a lot of prior work!
The training is organised and sensible based upon repetition and slow increases (which is much more fun that visiting the gym ever was!). I have three plugs, and am to use each for 10 days. Each day I wear it for 15 minutes longer than the previous day. I don’t do anything special when wearing the plug (unless informed otherwise). Just read, or work, or watch television, or write my blog posts.
I am still on plug #1, a lovely small glass number known as the Pawn Beauty. This is how it looks in my arse:
Today is day 7, and I am wearing it for two hours. Saturday, at 90 minutes, was (if I recall correctly), my anal record – for which m’Lady is very proud, and I am delighted.
But Sunday. Sunday was a disaster. I barely managed to wear the plug for fifteen minutes, just lying in bed, before I had to take it out – it just hurt so much! After cleaning it and leaving it to dry I went back to bed and, flushed with shame, texted Tethys to tell hir. I was mortified. I had thought I was doing so well!
What was fair discomfort in the last 20 minutes of wearing on Saturday evening – discomfort I had put down to a) being at a play party, b) sitting on a harder sofa than my own, and c) moving around more than I was used to with the plug in – had on Sunday been instead rather painful.
It wasn’t until I woke up this morning that I realised I’d also had painful bowel movements all of Sunday – and that perhaps those had also contributed to an uncomfortable experience? The foods I ate over the weekend, at various social events, were entirely different those I ate across the week. And as such, my bowels reacted differently. Was it such a surprise that they disliked what I slid in as much as what I was pushing out?
m’Lady was very kind to me in my misery and shame. Hir punishment was that I needed to write this post, noting my disappointment in myself (which I certainly am), my contrition (yes indeed), and my determination to continue my training in preparation for my visit.
A gentle punishment, and one I was pleased to carry out. My bottom has been full the past two hours, and I very much look forward to the time when, in just over a months time, they are filled by whatever zie chooses it to be filled with, in person!
Thank you, m’Lady, for your patience with me.