Anal Academy Pt. 02

Like those that had come before it, the pace of the dildo's movement escalated; Holly's breathing continued to match it stroke for stroke, slow and steady but ratcheting up with each passing minute to the point of heavy panting. The piston's pumping came fast now but with a shallow depth, which kept the experience manageable for Holly's nubile ass. In between breaths and alongside them Holly's whimpering was transitioning to a wider range of guttural, animalistic sounds. In one moment a moan, in another a squeal, in another incoherent fragments of half-started words followed by a building "aaaaaaaaahhhhhHHHHHHHHH" that filled the room with an intoxicating mixture of Holly's pain and Holly's pleasure. Every conceivable swear word or combination of swears that existed in the recesses of her lizard-brain spilled out unconsciously. These verbal fits and starts coalesced eventually into simple, outright screaming. Allowing her voice to fill the space with every decibel of volume she could manage, Holly released every inhibition, every fear, every ounce of tension that she held onto.

Holly let it all out in that moment and was made anew as a vessel free from the unnecessary trappings of decency.

Mercifully and, Holly noted with surprise, somewhat disappointingly, Ms. Witherspoon turned down the machine's pace and slowed the pumping to a halt. Holly gave one more moderate yelp as the dildo's head withdrew completely from her.

"That is all for now. You will have another session this afternoon. We must save some of your strength." She began unfixing the various straps, buckles, and locks holding Holly in place. "You will remain in this room. In the cage you fill find your attire and a meal waiting for you. A member of our team will return in the afternoon to conduct your second session. Do not attempt to leave the room. The door is locked, and you will be unable even if you try, but were you to succeed, the shock collar would deliver a very unpleasant experience. You may move freely within this room, but its four walls constitute a perimeter that you should not breech."

Ms. Witherspoon departed, exited The Pound, and it was not until the door shut closed behind her that Holly realized she was no longer tethered to The Muzzle. She stood up gingerly and weak-kneed, bracing herself to remain upright. Once stable, she walked to the cage and ate the lunch that awaited her. She did not bother with the jumpsuit. The room was perfectly warm, and what was the point anyway? She'd just have to take it off in a few hours to get railed all over again. She stretched herself out on the bed - nude, wet, sticky, satisfied - and stared up at the wall, the vast arrangement of cocks.

Holly remained for an undetermined amount of time, scrutinizing each dick in turn, from A1 through Z5, each unique from the last. She wondered if there was this much variety in all of the real flesh and blood dicks in all of the world, or were there varietals here unknown to nature? Some hours passed this way, until one of the jumpsuited men opened the door bearing Ms. Witherspoon's tablet. He went silently about his work, oblivious to her presence. He busied himself with the tablet interface, and the trophy wall moved itself in response.

"Just some routine maintenance," he called out to no one in particular.

Next he approached The Muzzle and began adjusting its configuration. Gradually the bench and stirrup formation mutated into something unrecognizable. Holly wondered where she was supposed to lie or if she was intended to lie at all. "Yep, yep," he muttered under his breath.

"Ok!" He clapped his hands together with all the pep of a junior varsity volleyball coach. "Let's get started! I'll be your Master for this afternoon's session. Forgive the dog training theme; it wasn't my idea. Master is just what we call your handler or supervisor for any given session." He looked down at the tablet. "I see you had ol' Witherspoon this morning. You must be a VIP or something! Well, I'll treat you right either way." He motioned her towards him with a beckoning wave.

"You can come on over; I won't bite. We've actually got a bit of a choose-your-own-adventure situation on this one, so I'm gonna need your input." Holly walked over. "Please look up at the wall here and pick which one of these bad boys you want next. If you enjoyed one from this morning we can repeat that, but honestly I recommend trying something new. Variety is the spice of life, am I right?!" He winked. "Take your time; it's an important decision."

Holly didn't need much time. In her hours-long perusal of the wall earlier, she'd fallen for G4. Its contours and proportions were similar to Frank's cock, only smaller. It was familiar and approachable.

"Fabulous choice! That's actually my personal favorite." He noticed the surprised look on Holly's face. "You see, I'm not only a Master, I'm also a client!" He gave another jaunty wink. Holly wasn't sure whether she wanted to punch him or have him assfuck her with a machine. She chose the option least likely to result in her electrocution.

"So what's next?" she asked.

"Straight to the point! I love it when customers know what they want. Alright! You've no doubt noticed that I've reconfigured The Muzzle. You can start by putting your knees here and here." He indicated two pads with indentations for her knees spread widely apart. Holly did as she was told. "And now if you just lean forward and put your head and forearms here, here, and here," he tapped three locations in front of her, "then you'll pop right into place."

Holly immediately understood the position she was being folded into. It was one of her favorite ways Frank fucked her at home. As she leaned forward slightly from her current position upright on her knees, her thighs stopped against a surface perpendicular to the ground, which then folded down at an acute angle so that her stomach and chest came to rest at a downward angle. Armrests were to the sides and out front for her to brace herself with. It was a "doggy-style" position manipulated and pretzel-twisted to stick her ass as far out and up as possible. Her face sat within a padded ring like the headrest of a massage table, and the Master went to work tying and buckling her into place.

He too slathered her ass with oil but was not as invasive as Ms. Witherspoon, considering her innards were already well-lubricated from the morning. Next Holly heard the wall whirring to attention, bringing her chosen cock down to greet her. Without warning she felt the tip brush against her backside and felt herself relax and unclench as a reflected greeting.

"I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I like to call this setup 'Double Trouble.' I'll get us started and we can take things from there." He blew his whistle, and Holly once again detected the now-familiar sensation of a dildo pushing its ways into her ass, inch by inch.

G4 was just how she'd imagined it - pleasant, filling, but none too expansive. As it gained momentum tracing a path in and out of her, Holly wished that she had freedom of movement, so that she could rock herself in time with the thrusting, pushing back as it pushed forward to accentuate the penetration. Compared to her previous two scenarios, this particular ass fucking was so vanilla that it lulled her into a false sense of security. Holly savored the relative blandness and predictability of this moment and paid no attention to the machinations of her Master behind her back.

Her reverie abruptly ended. Something changed. The sensations were now so new and unannounced that it took her several beats to parse them.

A second dildo had found its way into her pussy. "Yep, that's the 'double' part of Double Trouble," the Master exclaimed, clearly happy with his handywork.

Holly did not reply, focused on comprehending her new reality. She always knew that one day she would try anal sex, at least once, but she never dreamed she would ever be double penetrated. Similar to most of her experiences so far at the Anal Academy, this was not unpleasant. It wasn't painful or harrowing (despite the relative kidnapping and bondage). It simply required time to process. Her brain was processing old, unsexualized feelings and parts of her body, and combining them with new, foreign sensations and trying to make sense of the many crossed wires.

In her new predicament Holly focused first on the overwhelming sensation of fullness. One of the things she loved most about Frank was the fullness she felt when fucking him - the way his cock stiffed even more, occupying more space, as he was about to cum - the way his cum leaked out of her, as if there was no room even for those few drops of semen. Now having both of her holes filled and pleasured brought to mind that same overflowing fullness, only to an even deeper degree. She felt as though she had been having sex in black and white her whole life, and now she fucked in technicolor. As the two dildos fought for space within her, occasionally G4 in her ass would press upon its companion in her pussy and direct its thrust straight into her G spot. Every few thrusts she moaned loudly as the stars aligned, and her favorite area was stimulated.

Each dildo had its own cadence of thrusting. Sometimes they both advanced together, as one. Sometimes one withdrew as the other pushed in. Holly savored the unpredictability, the symphony of sensations that crescendoed and quieted and harmonized as the fuck machines danced a duet with her ass and her pussy simultaneously.

Holly purred her enjoyment, a deep satisfied, rumbling purr. In response her Master quickened the pace. Holly was fucked faster; she was fucked deeper; she was fucked from all angles. Her purr grew to a growl. She embraced her position as an animal, on all fours and made to be obedient. With her ass high in the air, she took dick into both of her holes, and her enjoyment was manifest in the animalistic sounds she made in response.

"Fuck me like a dog," she eventually mustered in English. "Tie me up, and push me down, and hold me there while you fuck me doggie style." The intensity was ratcheted up in response. Her Master was kind to her. She released more nonsensical sounds into the room. The call and response continued as she asked for more, and he supplied it, and noises voiced her pleasure, and he provided more of that pleasure. From deep in her gut she called out with a mixture of grunt, bark, and elongated howl.

Holly felt something growing inside her. She could not make out the specifics over the deafening cacophony of sensations thrust into her, but somewhere deep within her loins she detected something growing. It was the rising tide of a wave, the likes of which she'd never seen. A shattering orgasm was beginning to take hold, and there was nothing Holly could do about it. She could not shift her angle to delay the pleasure. She could not demur and say it was too much. She was tied down to within an inch of her life, unable to budge, fucked by tireless machines that couldn't come, couldn't soften, couldn't tire. Her Master knew it too. He was as relentless as his machines. He wouldn't stop until he had witnessed the fruits of his labor.

Holly felt the wave lift her up. Her soul was carried up and out of her body, and she rode the wave it as it crested and crashed over her flesh. Strapped down like she was, Holly could not shake and buck her way through this orgasm. She merely vibrated and strained mightily against the apparatus. She was held under water by the force of her contractions and felt drowned by the ripples of pleasure wracking her body. She screamed out so long and loud that she nearly forgot how to breathe, coughing as she vaguely remembered to take a breath in.

Slowly the machines ceased and withdrew. All that was left now was to lie like a puddle and whimper and moan and plead to be left in peace. Whether due to shock at the severity of her orgasm or respect for her post-coital daze, the Master was efficient and wordless in his disassembly of her bindings. Holly couldn't move. Her body was now just the remnants of something she could not recall, the wreckage of an existence she could no longer return to.

The man in the jumpsuit pulled the sheet off her bed in the nearby cage. He brought it over and wrapped it around Holly's body before lifting her up, holding her in his arms like the hero on the cover of a paperback romance novel. He carried her out the door and down the hall, around corners, and eventually he brought her into a solitary, unadorned room with a bed where he laid her down gently.

"The other women in your group will be having dinner together in the Mess Hall soon, but I'm not sure you are in any state to join them." He smiled kindly. "You just rest here. I will have dinner brought in for you, and someone will be along to retrieve you in the morning."

He walked out, and just as the door was about to close behind him, he pushed his head through to add, "You're going to need the rest."