Amber's Inner Life

This is a continuation of: Unspeakable Acts in Paris Hotel I treasure secret memories of that one time I sold myself. Read that one before this to get up to speed on my back story.

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This short piece is, for the most part, completely fictional - and 100% true.

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Last year I started working out with a personal trainer. When I am alone I imagine him talking to me, directing me, directing my pleasure. Instead of him instructing me to lift weights or to do sprints or box-jumps I imagined him instructing me to lie back, relax, get nice and warm and comfortable, remove this or that piece of clothing, gently touch here, stroke there, lubricate you-know-where. I imagined him showing me his biceps and his glutes. I fantasized about him progressing to encouraging me to insert toys in my mouth, my pussy, my ass. When things get hot enough I imagine him insisting that I press an oversized dildo up in my ass (In reality I only ever use a very small sized dildo or butt plug in my ass, I want to keep it tight in case I ever do run into Philippe again). I imagine pleading with him that it was too big, but he would insist and I would comply. Usually that is enough, I would climax whilst fantasizing that my ass dildo was 5x wider than it actually was and that he had compelled me to insert it. Not taking 'no' for an answer. As I came I would fantasize that he was overseeing my ecstasy, checking my technique, my form, congratulating me afterwards.

Sometimes in actual gym sessions when I completed a heavy lift and the endorphins flowed, I feel it in my pussy and ass. Particularly if he encouraged me and then congratulated me afterwards. My brain was cross wired from associating his voice with encouraging impossible physical feats, be they in the gym or in my fantasy insertion scenarios. The euphoria of completing a challenging lift was acquiring a pretty heavy sexual charge. I often wondered if it would be possible to really mix the two. Sometimes I would have to relieve the tension in the shower after the gym session. Generally I prefer doing that at home, generally I would say that the gym shower cubicle is not private enough, but sometimes I just had to. Other times my husband would get some pretty enthusiastic sex later that day or I would just have to take care of it myself before he got home. A few times the anticipation was just too much and I gave in and got down to business in the car before going in to the gym, the afterglow and tingling still there as I started to lift.

Since my experiences in Paris I have to admit that that one event has kinda dominated my inner life. Everything that happens, every fantasy that I have, somehow gets interwoven into memories and re-imaginings of that day. I realize its a loop, the more I do it the stronger it gets.

More than a few times I had imagined my PT fucking my ass. Sometimes I would imagine it happening in the gym but more often it would happen back in that motel room in Paris. Continuing from where Philippe had left me. Sometimes I would imagine him knocking on the door after Philippe had left. Sometimes I would imagine him being respectful but more often I had had him play less than respectful. I would imagine him forcing his way in as I answered the door or I would imagine that he was waiting outside to rush me as I left. He would push me back into the room and close the door on us. He would tell me that my anal training was not complete and that I need to take all he had to give me before I could go to my husband.

I would plead. I would tell him I was already burning back there, I can't take any more. He would be unmoved. He would overpower me. Generally speaking, nobody wants to be overpowered. Generally, I really don't want to be overpowered. But I would construct these specific fantasy scenarios where he would overpower me. I think perhaps that going with Philippe as I did was as far as I could go against my husband, I couldn't bring myself to cheat further, so the only possible way to go further was if I arranged to be forced. He would overpower me, push me face down on the bed, tie my hands behind my back. I would fight back, he would stuff my underwear into my mouth to muffle my screams. I imagine him less gentle than Philippe, I terrorize myself by anticipating him plunging straight in. I don't think that is even possible. Is it? It would be horrendously painful. I don't think I could take it. But I imagine him doing it to me, I imagine I am powerless to stop him. He would sodomize me over and over.

Once I imagined he phoned down to the reception to invite the receptionist to come up to observe. That was particularly out of control. I didn't think I would ever see her again but there she was in my fantasy. She watched impassively as I begged him not to rape me. She watched him put it in my mouth after he finished in my ass. She had that smug 'I knew you were a whore' look on her face. 'Once you sold it all inclusive, now they just take it for free' she commented to me with delight on her face. Fucking humiliating, why do I do this to myself. Fucking HOT. I think I actually screamed out loud as I came alone in my house.

Then, one time, he arrived before Philippe had left. They got along surprisingly well. They spit-roasted me, DP'ed me. His lack of respect rubbed off on Philippe. They took turns forcing me. Disregarding my wishes, ignoring my objections. They imprisoned me, made me their shared sex slave, made me late for meeting my husband. They encouraged each other to sodomize me.

They raped me - each to please the other.

They joked at my expense as I sucked my own filth off their dicks. I did it, I polished their cocks. That was the hottest thing I had ever... I climaxed, whole body trembling, as they forced me to take their double penetration, the taste of their shitty cocks still in my mouth. I don't know if that one will ever happen again. It was too much, even for me, I felt dirty. I definitely didn't want her to see it, not as long as I can help it, don't think I could take that.

I had to cancel two gym sessions after that, I was too embarrassed to look him in the eye after I had gotten so into how he and Philippe had DP'ed me. He didn't know that was the reason, obviously, he didn't know about any of it, it was all in my head. Nevertheless, I had to take a week to cool off, I texted him, told him I had the flu. I felt like I had way overdone it, I blew my husband twice in one day to try to recenter myself. He was wondering what the hell had gotten into me. I just told him I wanted to show how much I loved him, which, in any case, is actually true. I held out for two weeks without masturbating. I was trying to reset myself. I was feeling pretty clean, virginal even.

Usually my sex drive peaks about a week or so after my period. When I was single I learned that in those few days it is better to masturbate liberally than to risk acting out unwisely. Paris being a case in point. These days, my husband has learned to time his kinkier suggestions with precision! I like that he puts in such effort.

Anyway, those days came around so I had to relieve the pressure, but I limited myself to normal fantasies. No overseas trips, no strangers, no Phillipe, no PT, no anal, no force, no rape, no hotels (no hotel receptionists), no selling, no money, no whoring, no spit-roasts, no DP's, a few other no's that I haven't told you about yet. Holey moley that is a lot of no's! I fell back to my teenage go to, Tom Cruise (Eyes Wide Shut era) secretly moves in next door to get away from the paparazzi, we get chatting over the fence in the back yard, we totally hit it off, turns out we have absolutely loads in common, he invites me in for coffee, we drink wine. I help him prepare for his next movie, he really needs to work on a romantic scene in the hot tub, etc etc... totally normal fantasy, thank you very much. I was proud of myself for being so innocent and clean! I felt positively virginal!

However, its not possible to completely wipe the slate clean, these imagined scenes leave a mark. I now have a recurring intrusive thought, every so often. A visual of the moment PT and Philippe first make eye contact and instantly connect. In the moment I see that they understand each other and I understand them. They instantly realize they will make a perfect team, they both owe higher regard to each other than either of them do to me. I understand they will disregard my wishes, they will overpower me, they will use and abuse my body to strengthen their bond. When it happens I feel it in my pussy and ass, both. I have to consciously control my breath, touch the wall or sit down. I have to be stern with myself, I don't want to go down that rabbit hole again. Too powerful. I don't need it. Soo powerful. Soo dirty. Resisting makes it more powerful, giving in also makes it more powerful. Pursuing a thread like that also leads to variations on the theme, new who-knows-how-kinky spinoffs. I won't be able to hold out forever. I sometimes wonder if other people do this shit to themselves or if I am in the extreme.

To balance things out sometimes I imagine my PT powerless. Either he is firmly tied up so that his huge muscles are of no use to him, or he has lost his strength like Samson so I can easily overpower him. He begs me to stop toying with him. He pleads with me not to punish him. I threaten to fist him. I tease and terrorize him. He can't take it, he is so used to being strong and in control. He can't take the idea that I am in control of him now, that I choose for him, that he might like it. He apologizes profusely for all the ways that I imagined him forcing himself on me. LOL. He begs for forgiveness. Begs me not to punish him. He does not want to face up to the possibility that deep down he wants to be punished.

Sometimes I go ahead and punish him. I watch the hope flicker out in his eyes as I turn down his appeals. I snap on some latex gloves and break out the KY jelly. I let him deal with the emotional complexity of being dominated. As I tower over him I watch his facial expressions play from confusion to horror to acceptance.

But usually I cut a deal with him, I agree not to punish him if he does a naked workout for me, or walks naked through town as a forfeit, GOT style, or sometimes I let him make sweet tender love to me. LOL. When he works out for me I warn him that he has to lift heavier than ever before. I enjoy watching him struggle and strain to please me. His muscles get viably bigger as he works for me. I like the feeling of power and it does usually get me off. But, its not the same, I mostly just do it to balance things out, make sure my depravity in the other script doesn't weigh heavily on my self esteem. As if!

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Do other people do this kind of shit to themselves or I am in the extreme?

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