Anal Academy Pt. 03

These thoughts alone seemed to entice her body into another orgasm. It was small, somewhere between a mere tremor and an aftershock of what had come before, but there was a release all the same. Her master was caught off guard by the abrupt changes before him on the screen, and he fumbled to bring the whistle to his mouth before blowing it briefly while Holly released what was within her. She said nothing. She did not plead for anything to stop. In the wake of this minor orgasm, she was not sensitive, but rather she was even more accepting of the vibrator's gifts. Holly moaned as one who has finished a good meal but left room for dessert.

She heard an abrupt ripping sound and looked aside to find her master tearing a length of duct tape from a roll. He laid the body of the vibrator to rest along her stomach and placed the duct tape across to seal it in place, the head still perfectly positioned over her clit and vibrating ceaselessly.

"I am going to keep this in place and on a low setting. We will entice your body slowly into a heightened state of arousal. I'm not sure if you're into cooking or not, but this would be the 'low and slow' portion of our process. I am going to step out for a while, and we will give this thirty minutes or so. The monitors will tell me when it's time to return." Without looking back he walked quickly from the room and closed the door behind him.

Holly was left in place, immobile, strapped down into the chair apparatus, with a vibrator duct taped to her pelvis and moving insatiably against her pussy. She would have been horrified if she wasn't in heaven at that moment. Her body crackled with electricity, like she was a battery being recharged by the droning pulsations. She relaxed fully for the first time all day and let the waves of pleasure lap at her feet. She began wiggling a bit, as much as the restraints would allow. With all the attention on her pussy she'd nearly forgotten about the dildo placidly residing within her ass. She awakened its presence as she writhed about, feeling it within her as she moved.

Hello there, old friend, she thought.

When she grew tired of straining against her restraints, Holly closed her eyes and simply awaited what was next. The vibrator kept her at a consistent, moderate level of ecstasy, but no crescendo was in sight. She basked in its dim glory.

After an unknown period of time the door reopened, and the master walked back in carrying a jumble of something that Holly could not identify. He went about his business connecting components to parts of the chair beneath Holly and the monitor on the table.

"Now is the time in the process," he began, "where our trainees are typically unable to push out any further climax. But we need more from you. I must extract more from you, even if your body is unwilling." He held up the implement and Holly absorbed its foreign design. "With this I can draw more out of you than you might think possible. I will suck out your very essence, and we will take what we need from you." The contraption had a small open nozzle attached to a body with a variety of tubes connecting various portions in ways that were incomprehensible to Holly. It was a jumble of wires, tubes, and metal - an amalgam of electricity, plumbing, and engineering designed for sinister purposes.

He hit a switch, and the machine whirred into action. He held his own hand up to the nozzle, and Holly saw it drawn into and suctioned against the apparatus. It was like a perverted handheld vacuum cleaner. He noticed her watching him.

"Like I said, I'm going to suck out your very essence."

He leaned across her and grabbed a corner of the duct tape affixed to her abdomen. In one abrupt motion he pulled the tape up and off her skin, bringing the vibrator off along with it. Amidst the searing pain of tape pulling at skin, Holly felt a sense of loss and longing, as she had grown accustomed to the light dalliances of that vibrator.

However, her pussy would not be unattended for long. The master brought the sucking nozzle closer and closer to her, until he could fit her fat clit entirely within its embrace. In that moment he looked like an entomologist trying to capture a particularly rare specimen within a small jar he was cupping onto the ground.

The effect was instantaneous the moment he achieved an airtight seal between the nozzle and her flesh. Holly's clit was being suckled, retracted, and stimulated in ways that were totally foreign to her. She heard the whistle blow before she even realized what was happening. Holly came within seconds, and the volume of her screams drowned out even the whistle. Her screams were of actual terror, shocked by the rapidity and strength of her orgasm.

It faded away, as did the whistle's blow, but Holly's body remained tense, every muscle contracted and waiting. She was waiting for the next orgasm, which she knew was moments away. This one grabbed her and would not let go. Holly's eyes bulged and rolled and she bit her own tongue to keep her from screaming any more. She bucked at the restraints so hard that she felt herself push the dildo another inch deeper within her ass.

This too faded, but it was not replaced by dullness or sensitivity. Holly's body had been so primed, and this device was so perfectly calibrated to a pleasure previously unknown to her, that Holly felt ready for more. It was an all-you-can-orgasm buffet, and Holly was famished.

"More," she whispered.

"What's that?"

"More..." she moaned.

"Come again?"

"Yes, exactly! More, you fucking asshole, more! Do you hear me?! I want more! Does this thing go any harder?"

"Well, technically yes. There is one other setting. But honestly it is entirely experimental. We have never gone that high with someone before."

"Give it to me," she emitted as a low growl.

"What?"

"You heard me." Holly gritted her teeth as she was on the verge of another orgasm. "Give it to me." Her body again erupted into contracted spasms, and the whistle was heard once more.

The master looked up into the camera in one corner of the room. Ms. Witherspoon's voiced crackled on the speakers. "You have permission. Go ahead. Give her what she asks for." He reached for the undercarriage of the suckling machine and flipped a hidden switch. Holly felt the forceful drawing at her groin increase.

She could feel it now - her very soul being sucked out through her clit. She lost track of the particular sensations assaulting her body. She no longer felt the contours of the dildo in her ass or the sucking of her clit. It was all a formless amalgam of pleasure. Her pelvis began shaking uncontrollably, and the tremors spread to the rest of her body. From head to toe Holly was wracked by orgasmic epilepsy. The whistle blew and blew and blew again. Holly lost all sense of time and became unable to distinguish where one climax ended and the next began. Her body shook, and her mouth spouted an endless cascade of non sequiturs, sentence fragments, and inhuman sputterings. Eventually the discrete whistle blows became one long endless note with brief pauses for the master to gaspingly inhale as he tried to keep pace with his monitor's off-the-charts readings.

"That's enough!" Ms. Witherspoon's voice erupted on the loudspeaker. "For God's sakes, she's going to dislocate a shoulder shaking that hard in the restraints."

The suction was removed, and the whistle fell silent, but Holly's body still quaked - her muscles involuntarily contracting for the next several minutes until the various electrical impulses had run their courses, and her flesh was finally still. She whined like a dog locked in its crate waiting for a thunderstorm to recede into the distance.

"Well that was," the master paused and considered his words, "something." He unbuckled her from the chair and placed a hospital gown-like garment over her. "I'm not sure you can stand and put back on your jumpsuit, so this will have to do for now."

Holly tried to return a clever response, but the muscles controlling her vocal cords, like every other muscle in her body, had been made jelly, and she slurred something unclear even to herself. She couldn't enunciate a single English word, much less stand up and move around.

"We are in uncharted territory here. I've never seen anyone have... however many you just had. I mean, I could barely keep up just blowing out air for the whistle - can't imagine what you-" he broke off and surveyed the wreckage of her body. "I'm just going to leave you so you can take all the time you need. The door will be open. If you just take a right, the first door on your left with be the Mess Hall. It'll be lunch time soon." He backed out awkwardly and was gone.

For the longest time Holly did not even attempt to move. It was like she had forgotten how to move, as if her brain had been wiped so clean she could not initiate even a signal to her body to move. Fortunately, her diaphragm still worked on its own accord, or she might have died of asphyxiation on the spot.

A sense of normalcy descended on her, and Holly wiggled her fingers just to prove to herself she still could. She wiggled her toes. She engaged her core and tried to sit up but immediately realized this was a mistake. She had summoned just enough momentum in her torso to roll over but not enough to sit up. Holly tumbled out of the chair and hit the (thankfully padded) floor face down. She pushed herself with one arm and managed to roll over, once again looking up at the ceiling, this time from the floor.

How long had she been in this room waiting for her facilities to return? An hour? More? Only a fraction of function had come back in that time. Holly resolved to not wait any longer, lest she be unattended in this room for days. Even if she couldn't stand, she could raise herself just high enough on her knees and elbows and shimmy back and forth to effectively army crawl across the floor. Her pace was slow, it took nearly ten minutes to crawl to the door, but she was making progress, and her strength was slowly returning.

By the time Holly reached the hallway she was fully up on all fours. She felt a breeze brush against her wet pussy, as the gown left her very exposed on the backside. First door on the left, she thought, first door on the left. When she arrived at the door, she found her arms would not cooperate with the motion needed to reach up and turn the door handle. The limbs were fine to lean on as she crawled but were not strong enough to reach out with.

Holly stared at the handle and considered her options. She could lie down and wait for someone to find her. But goddamn she was hungry, and she wanted in now. She found just enough strength in her hips to sit up higher in her crouch, bringing her face level with the handle. She opened her mouth and used the gravity of her head to force the handle down with her top row of teeth. The door cracked open, and Holly's body tumbled half inside, her legs still sprawled out in the hallway.

The other women in her cohort, all in their matching jumpsuits and with fully functioning limbs, rushed to her fallen body.

"What happened?"

"You alright?"

"Let's get her in a chair."

Holly felt herself grasped and lifted. She was transported to a chair at their table and propped up in place by the women now seated on either side of her. They sat mouths agape, waiting for Holly to say something.

"Weaken et burnday," she mumbled.

"What"?

"What's that sweetie? What are you saying?"

They were feverishly trying to make sense of Holly's abrupt appearance. Unbeknownst to Holly, the other women in her group all assumed she had dropped out of the program after she did not turn up the second night. They were quite shocked to see her fall through a door in the middle of lunch.

"Weekend at Bernies," she finally communicated. "I'm like Weekend at Bernies." A little nervous laughter ensued. Her strength slowly returning, Holly reached across the table and grabbed a dinner roll from a plate at the center. She ate greedily and settled in, telling the women what had happened since she'd been forklifted from The Kennel. They nodded knowingly at various parts. Clearly their experiences had been similar, though not nearly as extreme as hers.

They recounted their own experiences to Holly - bound, collared, fucked, stretched. The specifics varied but the themes remained the same in each story. Holly felt better about her own journey while hearing about theirs. She was not alone; she was part of a pack. The foxhole rapport came easily, and the women even laughed as they shared their favorite and least favorite dildo options from the Pound's vending machine array.

Holly saw the other two cohorts of women in the other two Mess Hall rooms, separated by the familiar glass partitions. They watched her laughing, near-joyful group in complete shock. The adjacent group, who must have been in the middle of Day 2 in the program, especially could not comprehend how the women one day further along at the Anal Academy could be seemingly happy in the midst of this backdoor torture complex. Holly gave them a jaunty wink and turned back to the discussion amongst her sisters. Her strength was returning, sustained by sustenance and fellowship. Perhaps, Holly thought, her soul had not been completely drained by the chair. Perhaps more had been given to her than sucked away.

"Alright, that's enough, you lot." A master had opened the door to break up the revelry. Holly instinctively stood, as did the other women. She was surprised by the stability of her gait. Her body was her own once more. "Follow me."

Silently the women fell into a single file line and followed the master out the door and down the hallway. He brought them to a set of eight doors Holly had not seen before.

"You know the drill," he called out. "Everyone take a door - doesn't matter which. Only one bitch per door, no doubling up." Holly stood at a door marked 34C. She turned the knob and stepped in, expecting another Kennel-like optical surprise with multiple doors all opening into the same larger space.

Instead, she stepped into a discrete, tidy bedroom. The décor was vaguely Victorian - intricate quilts, lace doilies on a small table in the corner, patterned wallpaper, and way too many throw pillows. A four-poster king bed occupied much of the square footage. Holly heard the door close shut behind her and turned to see that there was no doorknob on her side. It could not be opened from the inside.

Unsure of what was to come, Holly thought it best to rest and save her strength. She slipped between the sheets of the bed and drifted off to sleep.

She was awakened sometime later by voices in the room chattering indistinctly. The delirium of her resolving slumber kept their meaning a mystery to her. Holly rolled over and opened her eyes, expecting to see a pair of masters fumbling with some new ass fucking implement. Instead, she witnessed Mr. Petat and Ms. Witherspoon carrying on a conversation. They noticed her awakening and turned towards her.

"My dear, so nice of you to join us." Petat clapped his hands together smiling broadly.

"To what do I owe the honor of your personal presence?" Holly asked. Petat rubbed his clasped hands together, an uncertain searching look on his face.

"Ah. Ah yes. Unusual, it is, for me to be so directly involved in one of these." He glanced at Ms. Witherspoon beside him. "But there are some things required of me, that only I can provide. Some tools of the trade, so to speak." He trailed off, and Ms. Witherspoon stepped forward a half pace.

"Holly," she began, "you have completed all the individual components of your training. You've been stretched, molded, trained to the whistle, and you have known pleasure in places previously unimaginable to you. In this final session we bring all the pieces together and make you entirely ready to receive your husband."

"OK," was all Holly thought to say.

"Do you trust us, Holly?"

Holly considered the question.

"Well. I'm not sure I would say 'trust' exactly." She read their faces for any glimpse of what was to come. "But I guess you could say I'm game. I'm invested in finishing this. And," she smiled, "if you promise to send me home with one of those clit sucking machines I'd go along with just about anything."

Petat chuckled loudly. "Oh-ho, my dear. You're too much. Unfortunately for you that device is strictly proprietary and cannot leave Academy grounds. Now, now, what next."

"Holly, I am going to talk you through the mechanics and purpose of this final session," Ms. Witherspoon said. "You'll notice the purposeful normalcy of this scenario. You'll find nothing here that you would not find in a typical household bedroom. There are no elaborate restraints, no fucking machines, no proprietary implements. We will not force anything upon you, but you must complete this session willingly. The purpose is to mimic, as near as possible, the sex life you will be returning to at home. If you are to enjoy anal pleasure for the rest of your life, you must begin by giving your ass willingly. You must call upon all of your learnings at the Academy thus far but do so of your own volition. Do you understand?"

"Yes. At least I think so."

"Good. You can begin by getting out from under the sheets and situating yourself on all fours, facing that wall." She pointed to the wall opposite the door. Holly did as she was told, propping herself up in doggy-style, width-ways across the bed so that her head was oriented on the right side of the bed and her open ass faced the left side of the bed. Ms. Witherspoon picked up a small chair from the corner of the room and brought it over to face Holly. She sat down to continue her monologue.

Meanwhile, Holly once again felt her open ass and pussy exposed to the circulating air of the room. She still wore the gown over her torso, but it was such a useless imitation of clothing that she dispatched with it quickly, balling it up and throwing it into the far corner. Holly had no need of modesty and pushed her shoulders back confidently as she struck a pose on all fours entirely nude.

From behind her, Holly heard the soft rustling of fabric as Mr. Petat did whatever he was up to back there.

"You have been well trained, and we are proud of your progress. But to take a flesh and blood cock, especially one as generously proportioned as your husbands, is another matter entirely. We have found that the only way to transition from the Academy to the bedroom is to move beyond simulation."

At her back, Holly could hear a plastic bottle being opened and something squirting out. A slick, wet rustling told her that something was being lubricated.

"Typically, this work is done by the masters. Right now, each of the seven other women in your cohort are in seven separate bedrooms spreading their legs for seven real cocks given to them by seven of our most able-bodied masters." A shiver went down Holly's spine. "We attempt to match our trainees with masters who have cocks similar to their husbands. When each man drops off his partner on the first day, he walks through an x-ray scanner that measures him and estimates his length and girth when fully erect. That is how we begin the match making for this final session.

"Unfortunately, no one employed here matches the unique dimensions of your Frank. Well, no one excepting Mr. Petat. This will be a first for the Academy's history and for Mr. Petat. He is loath to get too involved in the nitty gritty of day-to-day operations, but he is making an exception for you. I hope you acknowledge the extraordinary nature of his giving and accept it with gratitude."

Holly turned her head over one shoulder to look behind and saw Mr. Petat preparing himself. He had removed all clothing except for an undershirt, the bottom of which had ridden up his protuberant belly and was bunched up resting atop his obtuse stomach. The bottom of his belly hung slightly, its mass drawn by gravity. For a normal man a belly that size might have obscured the entirety of his groin. However, from the dark nether regions behind the hanging flesh sprang a magnificent cock. Its size could not be denied. It rejected cover and pushed beyond the belly like a houseplant growing towards the sunlight of a window. He was running his hand up and down the length of his manhood, stimulating himself to full mast and applying lubrication throughout. He grinned sheepishly when he realized that Holly had turned to look at him. A silent shoulder shrug told her that this wasn't his idea, but he too was along for the ride.